#because i felt guilty for playing when i should be drawing the requests :')

[sraksha]

Heyyyy!

So the OC drawings are gonna take a bit longer than they normally would becauseeee... I'm moving! To my first own apartment! Yayyy!!

It'll probably be a few weeks before i manage to settle in and have everything set up. So much to do, so little free time after work.

I'm super excited and i hope you understand the delay ♡

[perfctvelvet]

A smut involving Jenna or fem reader as a stripper or only fans star?

Down; Jenna Ortega/Fem!Reader

Content: 2nd POV. AU. Stripper!reader, teasing, Jenna gets reader off.

A/N: I had two requests for stripper!reader with jenna so I just combined them :) I think I've only wrote a strip/lapdance scene once and that was years ago so forgive me if this is little awkward!

Muse was nothing short of a poor excuse for a "high-end" private club. The floor was sticky from spilled overpriced drinks and the air was thick and muggy. Behind the branding and high-earning clientele, it was simply a strip club.

The year end company dinner started at Jenna's boss's favorite restaurant, to a bar across the street, and eventually to Muse. One by one her co-workers fell off, citing their tiredness as the reason they need to leave. In reality the crop of people that wanted to be out all night weren't the most ideal people to party with. Jenna said she would leave when her closest co-worker, Eve, decided to leave. However when it was her turn to bow out for the night, Jenna looked amongst the people she would be left with. It was nearly all of the senior-level employees of her department. Why she thought she could be one of the boys for the night, just for a small chance of career advancement, was beyond her. But she stayed. She stayed until she was front and center of a woman in sparkling lingerie that exposed her breast.

"We were surprised a girl like you could hang," one of the more obnoxious colleague nudges her side and winks at her.

Maybe this was some sort of joke on their behalf. The photo of her with her ex-girlfriend had sat on her desk for months until things came crashing down. Jenna wasn't ashamed, but her rule was to never talk about her personal life at work. That photo was the most she's ever said about the inner workings of her life and it was clear people had picked up on it.

Perverts.

Jenna is sure her colleague's wedding bands are shining under the stage lights, but no one seemed to care. It was par for the course; some wealthy, married men found their enjoyment in going to a club and seeing what they don't have.

Jenna found the women on stage to be pretty, beautiful even, but she felt out of place. She felt like everyone's eyes were on her like she had "newbie" written on her forehead. If she was with friends it would be different, possibly, but she was with men she has to turn reports into on Monday morning.

The same obnoxious guy in her office leans over and yells over the music, "you want a lap dance?"

The look on her face must've been a stupid one because he laughs at her.

"Not from me, of course. From one of the girls!"

"No, no. No thank you!"

It was then and there Jenna didn't realize what she got herself into. The men she work with don't like to hear the word "no." And when he got the others in on it, she soon found herself in a private room waiting for a "special visitor." She could've easily made a great escape the moment she entered the room, but was scared she would come face-to-face with the woman who was suppose to entertain her for the night. It made her feel guilty. Besides it might be best for her to occupy this person's time instead of one of her co-workers.

The lights dim in the room and the silhouette of a woman appears behind a curtain. Her outline giveaway that she's braless too, her nipples erect. Soft music played while the woman swayed her hips. She certainly knew what she was doing, moving her body to each sultry beat. Jenna can't deny that it is sexy to watch even if she wasn't use to this setting. Her ex had modeled lingerie for her and even gave her a drunken lap dance before, but this felt much more intense even with the curtain in the way.

She wondered what goes through the woman's head while she's doing this. Is she being a good audience member? She should clap every time the woman pauses? Can she even see her?

Her heart skips when the curtains began to draw back and you're revealed to be the woman behind them. You've seen plenty of women in the clubs (and nervous people in general), but you instantly took a liking to Jenna. She looked all cute just sitting there, clearly feeling our of place. Must've been a dare.

Jenna watches you closely as you begin to move to the music again, but she doesn't dare make eye contact with you. She's sitting so stiffly in her chair, you almost wanted to come down and shake her loose. There was nothing to be nervous about but the first timers were always a bit endearing to you.

You walk down the steps and stop right in front of her, giving her no choice but to look at you in the eyes. Her eyes are so gorgeous and she has a sweet face. It becomes more obvious to you that someone else definitely put her up to this.

"Relax," you whisper, voice lacing with the music.

Her ears perk up at the sound of your voice, as silky as the lingerie on your skin. It could be the loneliness from the break-up and missing a warm body against hers, but Jenna felt a tinge of desire for you.

She's like this with everyone. This is just her job.

Jenna listens to you and sinks into her seat. As she leans back, you lean in, turning around and sitting on her lap. Your hips swirl against her and you feel her clench her legs together. The purpose was to turn the client on, but you were enjoying this a little too much for your own professional lines. You turned your head over your shoulder to watch Jenna's face and she quickly adverted her eyes once again. You almost laughed at her reaction, but didn't want to make her nervous again.

However it was almost impossible not to make Jenna with the way you moved against her body. You leaned back and she she moved with you in the process. Your head rests on her shoulder and your arm comes around to wrap around her head. It takes everything in her not to run her hand up your body and grope your tits. The cool air made them so stiff that they begged for attention. There was a wetness that was growing between your legs that you tried to ignore, but some people turned you on so much that it drove you crazy. Jenna could feel your passion radiating off of you. You closed your eyes and let out a groan as if you were turning yourself on. It was in Jenna's instincts to do something to help you, but she remembered the setting. It was polite to keep her hands to herself, but you didn't want that. You grabbed one of her hands and placed it on your chest. Finally she seemed to give in a little and groped your flesh causing you to let out a heavy sigh.

"Baby," you moaned as if you too were intimately familiar with each other. It let Jenna play into the fantasy a little more.

She touched you like she would touch her ex-girlfriend. If she closed her eyes she could imagine that it was her. Guilt swam in her belly along with desire. All of her thoughts were in her head, so it wasn't like you had to know, but she would feel wrong for doing a pretty girl like you injustice by imagining she's thought someone else.

Jenna opens her eyes back to reality. Your exposed neck is right within reach of her lips and she takes the opporunity to just kiss your skin one time. She pauses for your reaction and feels warmth spread through her body when you moan in approval. She kisses your skin again and again until she feels comfortable enough parting her lips to suck on your skin. Now you're the one clench your legs together in search for some kind of relief.

This all escalated quickly and you know the timer is going to be up soon. The room was only booked for 30 minutes. You didn’t want things to end so soon, but just like Jenna you also had your rules about work. you felt the urge to take things farther and it was getting harder to ignore.

“Touch me here,” you say desperately.

Once again, you grab her hand and move it on your body. This time it lands in between your thighs. You spread your legs wide to give her a hint and she bravely takes it. She rubs your clit through your panties. The wetness of your arousal seeps through the material and Jenna can feel it.

“Just like that,” you sigh with pleasure.

Jenna is too stunned to speak. She didn’t expect that her night would end with her making a stripper cum. She wishes she could feel your bare, wet flesh against her skin but she wasn’t going to push her luck. She let you take control of the situation. She was like most clients who were eager to please but you liked how she touched you more so than others. She wasn’t too rough with you but used the right amount of pressure to make you pop. She sucked on your neck and rubbed you like you were precious cargo. It was possible that you were fulfilling a fantasy for her which was your job.

"Oh baby I'm gonna cum!"

The way you drag out the syllables and how it's followed by a moan makes Jenna heart beat out of her chest. She wonders if you can feel it while pressed so close against her. She can surely feel your clit pulsing under her touch. She rubs you through your orgasm as your entire body shakes. It's been so long, probably months, since someone has made you cum so hard and it was at the hands of someone who obviously has never stepped into a strip club before. It was easy to suss those ones out, and Jenna had something in her eyes that screamed naïve and you were sucked into what brought her here. She was probably put up to this, but to be bold enough to touch a stripper let alone make her cum, she was something else.

Once your movements stilled and you got off of her, Jenna looked everywhere besides into your eyes. "Uh...thank you." She scurried out of the room before you could say anything and before the allotted time for the room was up. It's unlikely she'll ever come back this place again, but this city isn't as big as many would think, and you hope that you'll be able to say 'what a small world' very soon.

[losing-it-lately]

Hi!!! Can I request a song fic, “Maria, Count me in”, with Remus Lupin x reader!!

Dear Maria, Count Me In

wc: 0.7k

best friend!remus lupin x reader

fluff, i could only find the song dear maria, count me in, but this was so fun and it was kind of cheeky to me, so i decided i would write about a best friend remus who would do anything for you, including playing along in your schemes (ends in some kissing too 🫣)

You weren't short on cash, but it never hurts to have a little bit more? At least, that's what Marlene Mckinnon said to persuade you into making personalised charms and potions for students. It's tough to be an entrepreneur stuck in high school, but you were determined to work this out. The first iteration of the plan started in the great hall after hearing some kids complain about how often they misplaced their robes. “A crystal orb showing the location of an item could be helpful,” you whispered to your friends, and when everyone agreed instead of laughed at the absurdity, Lily realised you had a gift; your final iteration of your plan was with Remus in the Astronomy tower.

“I think I should start my own business.” Nights like this were perfect for everything; gorging on whatever snacks you want, sharing your most intimate secrets, planning out stupid pranks, and tonight, it would be for gauging your new idea with Gryffindor’s best prefect. You could feel Remus shift on the blanket next to you. As he continued to look at the stars, he started humming in approval. Maybe this was a great idea. And so the star gazing was cut short for a detailed plan including marketing, price gauging and magic; Remus Lupin doesn't half-arse things as he says every single prank.

In the bathroom with Moaning Myrtle, a sign was placed: “Out of Order” with both of your initials underneath. Next was the word of mouth. Kids from all houses, mostly older teens, started purchasing things. Sweets to prank their friends, a drink to reduce hangovers or to keep them awake, a charm that can write notes for you. Then the littles came in, asking for ways to track lost items, maps to see which staircases are changing, charms to turn drawings into little friends that follow you around- business was truly booming.

But it wasn't too long before a professor found you both. While Slughorn and Mcgonagall loved having you as students, there was a “legal guideline” that prevented you from selling to students without a license and having unchecked charms and potions. You both had become totally busted, losing all your Hogsmeade privileges for the next month and having a detention every Friday, and you felt so horrible. Every week Remus would be stuck cleaning random cauldrons and crap because of your idea, the one that he refused to get money off of. You were so sure that you could have taken the brunt of the punishment, but he refused consistently. It made you sick to your stomach.

“I still don't understand why you're here, Remus.” The feeling was eating away at you. “This wasn't your idea! At most, this is 90% my fault.”

Remus hated seeing you sulk like this. He just didn't want you to be alone in these detentions (or wanted to be alone with you), of course, he would admit being a part of the problem.

“I’m your best friend, if I bail, who else will you be counting on?” A shy smile spreads across his freckled and scarred face; Remus loves all the different ways that he is yours.

“I just…”

“Stop feeling guilty. This was my choice, I’m not going to let you clean these flasks alone” His hands were on your shoulders, and his eyes were bearing into yours… until they weren't. It was so miniscule, the faintest flicker down to your lips. But you saw it, and worse, you felt it, you felt the tension shift. One hand crept upwards to your neck, resting patiently at the base. You let out a hasty breath and he responded in the softest chuckle. It was too late before you realised you had been looking at his lips the entire time.

“Can I,” the softest whisper that made your chest coil up.

You squeaked a response out, “what?”

“Kiss you. Can I kiss you?” If he hadn't been leaning in, you wouldn't have heard the full question, but it didn't matter; you had started nodding as soon as you responded.

He brought himself closer, using gentle hands and even gentler lips to bridge the gap; Remus kissed soft and then he kissed harder with passion.

He pulled away momentarily (pulled away being a stretch as he still resided in your personal space, you could feel him breathing in your air). “We should stop, we have the pots.” His cheeks rosied a little. Like a little kid with candy, he didn't want to ruin it too quickly. “Can you kiss me when we are done too? Maybe on a first date?”

[andswarwrites]

Day 17

I'm a mom who has a mom, and isn't it true that there are certain aspects of motherhood and daughterhood that give you insight so you can have empathy both for your mother and your daughter?  Let me explain.

When I was a kid my mom would repeatedly tell me: "You'll understand when you have your own kids."  I remember balking when she would say that.  I would fantasize about the kind of mother I would be, and how I would let my kids do this and that, eat this and that, and I would play with them.  There are of course differences between my parenting style and my mom's, but I understand what she meant.  As a parent, you are juggling so many tasks, decisions, cares; your child doesn't understand why you have to say no to what  to them seems like a very reasonable request, but for you it is just too much to add right now.

I sometimes say "no" or "let me think about it" or "maybe some other time," not because I can't comply with what N- is asking, but because I simply do not have the mental energy to make another decision right now.  By the end of the day, I have made so many mini choices, from the order in which I'm going to go about my work for the day, to what I'm going to feed myself and my daughter, to how I'm going to respond to messages and texts, to how I should word a certain phrase, so any additional question feels like the drop that overflowed the bucket.

On the other hand I remember how disappointing it was when I was little and it seemed like my mom was always busy, so I tend to, if she wants to play together, suggest Lego; I used to build multicolor houses with her with her Duplo, but now she's moved on to Lego at her age.  Her dad paints miniatures, and he enjoys painting with her.  N- used to try to get me to play with her MLP or her LPS figurines, but she has a friend who enjoys doing that a lot more than I do, so now I'm off the hook.

I want to create pleasant memories for my daughter, the way my mother did for me.  What I remember the most is when my mother and I would chat in the evening, when both of us were relaxed, and she would get me talking by asking me questions.  I do my best to replicate that.  I honestly think the best gift a parent can give is time.  Time and peace.  And to have a peaceful home environment you need inner peace yourself, which means keeping stress at bay, which can be easier said than done.

I'm generally pretty calm, but I do let certain feelings and emotions build up until they are released in a short, sharp burst of harsh words.  When that happens, I apologize as soon as I can.  And you know how amazing N- is?  She is so forgiving.  She does not hold onto a grudge.  She sees the best in people, and when she forgives, she forgets.  The only time this proves a challenge for her is when someone she loves is wronged.  To me that proves her loyalty.

Many people considered my parents strict.  The way I would describe my upbringing is that they had standards and requirements, but they also encouraged me to learn and take on responsibility.  At times I felt like I wasn't given sufficient freedom, but I think my mom especially was very protective.  I think N- is far less sheltered than I was, because her childhood has been vastly different from mine.  And since she is so creative, I do give her a lot of breathing room.  I encourage her to draw in her sketchbooks and on the computer, to animate, to compose music, and to write stories.

I used to feel guilty that I seem incapable of providing N- with the same structure I grew up with, but I realize now that S- and I are not bad parents just because we let N- have a messy room, which I was never allowed.  I don't really command N- to do things, I remind her and I make suggestions, but I don't enforce.  Of course there are rules that she has to follow, and she has responsibilities, and she's going to accumulate more as she matures.  I wouldn't call us lenient, I would call us relaxed.  And N- is far from rebellious, and she likes to take initiative.  The other day she completely cleaned her room, from the floor to her bed to her desk, without being told.

You know the saying "When I say "Jump" you ask "How high?"?  I've never liked it.  I feel like if our children feel they can communicate freely, and ask the reason for certain rules and regulations, it will make it easier for them to follow direction.  I think the reason N- went ahead and impulsively cleaned her room is that she agrees with me, and a living space that is neat and clean is good for mental health.  I don't need my home to be pristine, I just like a certain amount of order, and I like pretty things all around, from the pile of books on the end table to the scented candle and teacup on the table.

I think the most important quality I can cultivate as a mother is empathy.  And I need empathy as a daughter as well.  Those regular chats I used to have with Mom?  I still have them, just over the phone.  Today she called me and poured out her heart about something that had upset her.  All she needed was a listening ear and some comforting words and I was happy to provide those.  Every human has a unique perspective, and I think it enriches everyone when that perspective is shared, and it enlightens us to one another's point of view.  Within reason of course, there are some disagreements that are unavoidable

I sometimes wonder how close N- and I will be after she leaves our home.  Will she call me every day like I call my mom?  Will she live nearby enough that I will be able to invite her over for dinner regularly?  She's turning thirteen soon, which means she'll have Instagram.  I can't wait to tag her in posts and send her memes.  I remind myself every day to treasure the time I get to spend both with my daughter and my mom, because life is fleeting, and change is inevitable, so from tears to laughter, just being together is precious.  All of it.

[purple-babygirl]

request if open; daddy!bucky had a bad day and little!reader is just trying to comfort him but he accidently lashes out and yells at her/pushes her and immediately feels guilty but she regresses even more into her little space and is scared of him, you can kinda play around w this and figure out how it ends! xx

Pairing: Mafia!Daddy!Bucky Barnes x f!little!reader

Word Count: 3,423 (you know you love me)

Warnings: ddlg dynamics, yelling, harsh treatment, crying, angst turned fluff?

A/N: thank you so much for sending this in, nonnie. i took your request and ran with it to angst land. Hope you enjoy xx💜

~~~~~

signature needed

“Dada,”

She could see Bucky’s frown, the lines on his forehead wrinkling his handsome face up. She knew it meant he was upset and she never wanted Daddy to be upset. She knew he never left her upset.

Bucky’s been looking like that since he walked through the mansion door that morning, barely acknowledging her when she greeted him. He almost forgot to give her her welcome-home kiss even.

“Not now, angel,” Bucky murmured, proceeding to flip through the papers covering his desk, huffing and puffing every now and then at the mess he was stuck trying to fix.

“Wanna show you somethin’,” she whispered, biting back a smile.

“Later, angel. I’m busy right now.”

He regretted telling her to come in. He should’ve known she’d be nothing but a distraction.

“Dada, jus’ take one look,” she bounced on her feet before slipping a neat sheet of paper on top of Bucky’s desk, momentarily blocking his view of the contracts he was angrily staring at. Now that made Bucky mad.

“I said I was busy!” Bucky shouted as his head snapped to her, his hand slamming down on the paper without even seeing it, blindly crumpling it and throwing it on the floor at her feet. She flinched at the sudden outburst, taking a step back.

“Dada,” tears filled her eyes as she looked at her discarded paper. Bucky just broke her heart.

“Why don’t you ever listen!” Bucky grabbed her arm tighter than usual, pulling her back to him, “How many times do I need to repeat the words for you to understand! I said not now, didn’t I?!” He let go of her arm with more force than he’d intended, making her stumble a little.

She was terrified now. Her heart pounded in her chest as she looked at Bucky with wide eyes. He has never lashed out on her like that, not even when she was big. She was scared. As her breath picked up, she wished she’d never left her playroom.

“Get out and don’t step into this office again until I tell you you can, you hear me?” Bucky growled, oblivious to the signs of regression and horror showing on her face.

Her quick nods set off no alarms in his head as he watched her run out of his office.

Bucky felt bad about taking his anger out on her the second she fled the room. He flopped back down with a huff, flipping through the contracts again and again with no focus. He threw them down carelessly, running his fingers through his hair, tugging at the roots in frustration.

Cracking his hurting neck, Bucky regretted raising his voice at her. He couldn’t see the words on the contracts; her teary eyes flashing through his mind every time he tried reading.

Why did he have to yell? He could’ve just looked at her paper. She was likely trying to show him a drawing. Why couldn’t he just go with it? He’s sworn he’d never let anybody hurt his angel and then he goes and does this?

Bucky was ashamed. What kind of Daddy was he if he treated his little like that? It was no excuse that he was still getting used to being a Daddy. Bucky knew that wasn’t how a man should treat his girl.

He bowed forward, picking up the balled paper by his desk. He carefully straightened it, deciding to fix his angel’s damaged drawing and make it up to her.

Only it wasn’t a drawing; the paper was a handwritten Daddy-Angel contract. It even had colourful flowers, bees and butterflies decorating the paper and everything.

She was probably trying to play office with him; probably just wanted Bucky to pretend he was signing her paper too.

A sad smile spread across Bucky’s lips as he read the paper. The contract stated that

- Dada will smile

- Dada will not be angry no more

- Dada will let me sit on his lap (will be quiet pp)

- Dada will play with me after work

Dada: ……………..

The paper ended with a free space for Bucky to sign in case of agreement to the ‘terms’.

There were a lot of moments where Bucky wished he could turn back time, but not being able to do so in this very moment seemed to torture him the most. He was an asshole.

She just wanted him to calm down. She respected that he was working and she wasn’t trying to interrupt, she merely wanted him to smile. She even pinky promised to sit quietly in his lap.

Bucky has messed up and it was for nothing because the damage to his work has already been done. He shouted at her like she was responsible when she was just trying to help him feel better.

Bucky got his pen out of his pocket, signing the empty place by his name, remorsefully sighing at his utter stupidity.

~

“Angel,” Bucky called, knocking on the door before opening it.

She wasn’t in her playroom, but Bucky could see her round table full of similar papers to the one he had folded in his pocket.

She’s made at least 6 of these ‘contracts’, some of them were written in different colours or had spelling mistakes.

She’d obviously worked hard until she settled on the paper to give him and he ended up throwing it on the floor.

Bucky’s hand rubbed his face, frustrated at himself and his lack of control. An asshole was what he was. An asshole.

“Angel, where are you, baby?” Bucky sighed, opening the bedroom door to see her sitting, hugging her knees on the large bed.

She looked too tiny bundled up like that and her muffled sniffles punched at Bucky’s heart.

“Angel.”

She only lifted her head up when she felt the bed dip under Bucky’s weight and panic flashed over her delicate features.

“Baby, don’t cry,” Bucky said, his hand instinctively moving to wipe her tears only to have her flinch back, squeezing her eyes shut as if she was awaiting a blow.

Bucky’s heart stopped beating for a second when he realized what had just happened.

She was scared of him. His angel had flinched away from his touch. A huge lump formed in Bucky’s throat as she opened her eyes again, “angel?”

“Please don’ hurt me. Won’ come to the office. Won’ leave the room.” She shook her head and sobbed, scurrying back on the bed and away from Bucky.

This pained Bucky more than any punishment he thought he deserved. The look on her face was enough for him to want the walls to open up and swallow him.

“Angel, I would never hurt you. You know that.” Bucky whispered, sniffing back the tears about to spill down his bearded cheeks.

He needed to hear her say she did. He needed to know she knew Bucky could never hurt her.

She looked from Bucky to her left arm where his metal hand had grabbed her earlier. His fingers had left a mark around her arm. The skin was still pulsing as if his hold on her never loosened.

It was too late and it didn’t matter what he said because he’d already hurt her and the evidence was on her body.

Bucky’s mouth opened and closed as he swallowed again. He didn’t know what to say. He was supposed to be the one protecting her, not the one hurting her. How could he do such a thing to his angel?

“Oh, baby,” he breathed, shaking his head regretfully before trying to get closer to her.

Her instant reaction was to crawl back further and Bucky’s heart sank to his stomach. He felt his soul leaving his body when he looked her in the eyes and saw fear.

A tear betrayed him, falling down, gliding by his lips. Bucky wiped it away quickly, sniffing and clearing his throat.

“I signed your contract, angel.” Bucky got the paper out of his pocket, opening it and putting it on the bed for her to see.

Her eyes looked down and more tears left them at the sight of her once fine work now ruined.

“I’m so sorry, angel. Daddy was bad, baby. I’m sorry,” Bucky pleaded, his fingers reaching out for hers.

She pulled her hand away quickly, hiding it behind her back and Bucky knew he had really messed up. It was no use trying.

She was scared of him. His touch frightened her and was no longer a symbol of comfort to her.

He took his hand away, straightening his back and getting off the bed.

“I-I’ll see you at lunch then.” Bucky sniffed again.

“And angel?” he called from the door, getting her attention.

“Thank you for caring for daddy. I love you.” Bucky has never heard his voice as weak as he did in that moment and he felt even worse when she didn’t say it back.

~

When the table was set and Bucky came out of his office to find her chair empty, another lump was quick to form in his throat.

He wasn’t even hungry. He had no appetite to eat; he just wanted to see her but didn’t have the guts to peek into their bedroom again.

“Angel?” Bucky was ready to knock on the bedroom door but it was already open.

He carefully pushed it and took a look inside to find the bed empty. He tried not to freak out as he knocked the en suite bathroom door and got no answer. When he opened it, she wasn’t there either.

Bucky could hear his own blood pumping in his ears because she was no where to be found in her playroom as well.

She left. She left him and she had every right to. How could he lose her? How could he lose the one good thing in his life?

Tears distorted Bucky’s vision as his hand clutched the side of the door. His heart clenched at the thought of never seeing her again, never hearing her sweet voice call for him again; never getting to smell her on his pillow again.

The sound of her feet padding on the floor behind him pulled Bucky out of his head and he thought he’d imagined it for a second. He turned around and she froze when his eyes fell on her.

She shifted on her feet, hiding one behind the other and internally hoping Bucky wouldn’t notice she was roaming around with bare feet when he’d specifically asked her not to before.

That was the last of Bucky’s concerns at the moment though. He was just relieved she didn’t leave him even if he deserved it.

“Where were you, angel?” the tenderness of Bucky’s tone let her know he wasn’t mad at her for walking around shoeless.

“Couldn’ fin’ PinePine,” she replied softly, referring to the white feline, “’s lunch time.” Her eyes remained fixed on her feet as she avoided Bucky’s.

He was secretly thankful for that, not wanting her to see him in tears twice in the same day.

She was so pure; so caring and loving to everyone around. Bucky found himself slightly jealous of his own cat for a second there.

“Where did you find, PinePine?” He asked calmly, just wanting to hear her speak to him.

“Downstairs,” she answered shortly, leaving Bucky disappointed.

“Let’s go then. The table’s set.” Bucky smiled, hesitantly offering her his hand.

She stood unmoving for a few seconds, eyes still casted down, before she decided to hold onto Bucky’s pointer.

He sighed, knowing she was still scared but didn’t want to reject him. She was so sweet on him even when he least deserved it.

~

When lunch was over, Bucky let her know she could come to the office whenever she wanted, although he doubted she would. She gave a small nod before running back to the other room as Bucky shouted an “I’ll get back to work then.” behind her.

He didn’t actually get back to work. He couldn’t focus. He couldn’t think of anything but the way she pulled away from his touch every single time he tried to come near her, or the way she forced herself to hold one of his fingers as they walked less than 10 steps together to the dining room. She'd even begged him not to hurt her earlier.

How did he let himself fuck up so bad? When did they get there? What was he going to do now? How does one get forgiven after being this awful?

A lamp lit above the mafia boss’ head and he grabbed a clean sheet of paper before he could lose the idea.

Bucky was going to write his angel a contract. A pardon contract.

His Daddy-Angel 2.0 contract stated that:

- Angel will forgive Daddy

- Angel will not be sad with Daddy no more

- Angel will sit on Daddy’s lap (even if she doesn’t wanna be quiet)

- Angel will play with Daddy after work if she still wants to

Angel: …………….

Bucky sighed as he tried to draw anything other than sloppy hearts in the empty places around the words to decorate the paper but he was terrible at this. He was desperately in need of his angel’s forgiveness though so he scratched his beard and kept working.

Bucky needed to know she wasn’t actually scared of him; not her. Anyone but her. He wouldn’t be able to take it. He wouldn’t be able to ever tolerate himself if she didn’t forgive him.

Bucky’s tongue was hanging outside the side of his mouth as he drew another birdie on the bottom of the contract. It didn’t really look like a bird, unless of course that bird was struck by lightning a hundred times before, but Bucky thought it would do. After all, he was no artist. He didn’t draw. He didn’t deal with colours; he dealt with weapons. His hands were rough for a reason. But he would do anything for his angel. Anything to win her over again.

A knock on his door cut off his focus and Bucky groaned.

“Come in.”

He felt sorry for whoever had the bad luck of interrupting him during his contract-making, ready to yell at someone.

Bucky looked up from his desk when he didn’t hear anyone speaking, and his face has never softened so fast.

It was his girl who’d come into the office. She had her folded contract in her hand and her eyes were looking kind of puffy from crying.

Bucky just stared at her in remorse, pushing his chair back a bit as he watched her walk closer to his seat.

He wanted to tell her he was sorry. He was so sorry. He’s never been sorrier in his life. He wanted nothing more than to take every word and every harsh touch back.

She stood there for a second, waiting to see if Bucky was going to kick her out this time too. When he didn’t, she rounded the desk and stopped by Bucky’s chair.

Bucky remained speechless, not wanting to scare her away again. She came to him. She came on her own. Unless she came to throw the contract in his face and break up with him, that should be a good sign.

Her tongue peeked outside, wetting her lips nervously before she stretched an arm out, ever so carefully nearing it to Bucky’s thigh. Her gaze was glued to Bucky’s face, gauging his reaction. When Bucky’s frown didn’t show up she let her palm touch Bucky’s leg.

Bucky didn’t understand what she was doing but he wouldn’t dream of questioning her. He was just glad she was okay with touching him again at all after what he’d done, even if she was doing it so cautiously it broke his heart to a thousand pieces.

With her stare trained on Bucky, she stepped forward, slotting herself in the small space between Bucky’s chair and his desk, facing him. Her hands moved to grab on Bucky’s strong shoulders, still watching his face. She swallowed before effortlessly climbing on, cozily curling herself on his lap.

Bucky’s heart swelled as he felt her nose nuzzle his shirt. His own emotions overwhelmed him and tears gathered in his eyes.

“Angel?” his voice was barely a whisper as he looked down to her, careful not to startle her.

She looked up at him worriedly, thinking he didn’t want her where she was.

Her eyes showed fear for a short second before she unfolded the scrunched paper in her hand, a finger pointing to the third term.

“Dada signed,” she said, her eyes so innocent and Bucky couldn’t contain himself anymore.

“Oh, angel,” Bucky’s tears uncontrollably rolled down, wetting his beard.

He held her so close, she could hear his heartbeats drumming in his chest.

“Baby, I’m so sorry.” Bucky cried, wetly kissing her forehead over and over.

“I’m sorry, my angel. Forgive me,” he repeated, leaning down to kiss her bruised shoulder before lifting both hands to his lips and kissing them, “I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.”

“Dada,” her smaller hands cupped Bucky’s cheeks as sadness covered her features.

She’s never seen Bucky like that. Not even at his father’s funeral did he sob like that.

She didn’t know it but to Bucky, the thought of losing her hurt more than the actual loss of a family member who never gave two shits about him.

She was Bucky’s everything. His love, his partner, his companion, his baby angel. She was the one who stole his heart and took good care of it. Bucky would give up anything and everything in life and choose her to forever keep, protect and love.

Her short thumbs wiped under Bucky’s eyes, pushing his tears away. She turned to straddle him and wrapped her arms around his neck, laying her cheek on his shoulder.

The smell of her hair calmed Bucky’s heart down as he turned his face to kiss her head, hands settling on her back, “I will never hurt you, angel. Please tell me you know that, my love.”

Bucky’s hoarse voice had her pulling away from the hug. She sat back and looked her man in the eyes, her thumb brushing his chin, “I know,” she whispered and Bucky could see it in her eyes. She did. She believed him. She knew he wouldn’t hurt her.

She stroked Bucky’s cheeks as he sniffled, smiling gratefully at her reply. And his whole world lit up again when she smiled back, timidly pecking the corner of his pink lips.

Oh she was a real angel. No one’s ever been this kind to Bucky before, only her. Bucky kissed her hand one more time, quietly thanking her for forgiving him.

“I made you a contract too,” Bucky told her with a chuckle, pointing to the desk behind her as he wiped his face with the back of his hand.

Her mouth opened in a silent gasp, her smile reaching her wide eyes. She turned around in Bucky’s lap, planting her knees on the chair between Bucky’s open legs and stood on them to take a look.

She took her time reading the words and then she was off Bucky’s lap and bolting out of the room.

The man was about to lose it again, thinking she’d remembered his cruelty towards her and changed her mind when she came running back inside the office.

She climbed back on the chair between Bucky’s thighs, her glitter pen in hand.

Bucky sighed in relief, his lips spreading with an adoring smile as he watched her write her name letter by letter in glittery ink where her signature was needed. Bucky held her waist, kissing her back as he admired how focused she was.

She closed the cap on the pen, placing it on the desk before picking up the contract to show Bucky.

“Angel signed,” she beamed, plopping herself against Bucky’s chest and clinging to him, earning a hearty chuckle from him.

“I love you so much, angel. More than anything in the world.” Bucky gently held her face by the chin, giving her lips a short kiss.

“I love you too, dada.” She smiled, blushing as she hid her face in his chest again.

Bucky wrapped his arms around her, holding her to him and closing his eyes, just enjoying the feel of her body against his once more, silently promising his angel to never hurt her ever again.

~~

Tags:

@harrysthiccthighss

@tinystudentfirepurse

@lavendercitizen

@tumblin-theworldaway

[problematicfavesareproblematic]

I Wish I Could Leave This Alone (I Know How Much You Want Me To)

Babe Heffron x Reader (plus guest) One Shot

Summary: Babe’s birthday gift to you has an unexpected party crasher

Warnings: smut, angst, infidelity (?), reader overthinking while getting dicked down, I wrote this and immediately posted it so it will be edited at some point

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Babe’s kiss was soft, but his touch was not.

 You couldn’t help the groan that escaped from the back of your throat as one of his hands gripped tightly at your hip, and when he smiled against your lips you couldn’t help but feel like you’d had done something to amuse him.

 “What?” you pant, leaning back at the waist to break the kiss and frowning at his smirk. 

 He chuckled warmly as he walked you backward towards your bed, the hand at your hip finding its way under your shirt and up against your sternum.

 “Where’d you go, Gorgeous?” he asked playfully, and you immediately felt guilty. 

He was right, you’d gone somewhere else for a while. That wasn’t fair to him, and you knew that. And while he was quick to call you out on it, he never seemed to truly take offense to it. You weren't sure what that said about him. Or you, for that matter.

You shake your head and bring your hands to the hem of his t-shirt, lightly tracing your nails across the sensitive skin of his lower stomach. “Started getting a bit ahead of myself, that’s all.” 

 Pressing a kiss to the hinge of his jaw, you use your position to slide your hand down the front of his trousers and cup him through his boxers.

“You forgot to breathe,” he mumbles, his voice slow and distracted. “Can’t have you blacking out and embarrassing yourself like that—Woah.” 

 A smile of your own breaking across your face, you nose at him until he brings his mouth to yours again, making a show of inhaling sharply as the backs of your knees hit the bed.

 “Good note,” you say breathily as you pull his shirt up his back, giggling idiotically as he intentionally gives you a hard time of it. Your shirt doesn’t last long either, and with a practiced ease, you have each other stripped and bare in the blueish darkness of your barrack.

 He isn’t gentle when his hands grip your bare skin, his movements excited and rough as he settles against the headboard and pulls you up to straddle his lap.

 “I remembered, by the way.”

 Taking his face in your hands, you hold him away to study him, confusion marring your constantly furrowed brow. “Remembered…?”

 His eyes are aglow in the dark, so amber and warm that they reminded you of the spiced ciders your family would make during the holidays back home. A wicked smile crosses his face, and he chuckles quietly.

 “I told you what knowing my middle name would cost you when you asked me last month, and the information I wanted in return. And I told you I wouldn’t forget…”

The cogs clicked in your head, and you made a sound of upset when you figured out what he was talking about. 

 Detail for detail, that’s the deal, Sweetcheeks.

 “Happy Birthday, Sargent Y/N.” He waggled his eyebrows, and you booed him quietly.

 “What are the odds a blowjob will make you forget about it?” you ask with a wince, gasping when he playfully rolled his hips up to meet yours. Feeling how hard he was made your blood begin to run hotter.

 “Hmm,” he hummed, leaning forward to suck a kiss on the delicate skin beneath your collarbone. “Somewhere between none and slim.”

 With an annoyed hum, you lean your head forward to rest atop his head and let him mouth at you, your hand coming up to pull at his hair only when you knew he was intentionally trying to leave a mark. 

 “And do you remember what I said I wanted to give you for your birthday?”

 Feeling the blood rush to your cheeks, you realized that you could only sit in hot embarrassment as he laughed at you again.

 “Such a prim and proper lady, scandalized by the idea of riding my face—”

 “Edward!” you hissed, hands that once held his face now pushing it away. “Don’t say it like that, come on—”

 The auburn-haired man laughed, catching your wrists and pulling you into his chest. you grunted with frustration, your face now pressed against the hollow of his throat.

 “It’s not like my mouth hasn’t been down there before, you know.”

 Sighing, you let yourself sag into him slightly, trying not to lose yourself in his lighthearted tone.

 “Yeah, but not like that, when I’m just…you know.”

 “Oh I see, you like it better when I do all the work and you get to take the princess position, huh?”

 “Jesus Christ, Babe” you sit up again with a huff, attempting to pull your wrists back from his unyielding grip. “I try to be serious for one fucking second….”

 Rolling his eyes, he surges up and kisses you sweetly, and for a minute you feel yourself begin to slip out of your body again.

But he brings you back. He always brings you back to him and here and now.

 “C’mon, Sweet Thing…” he croons shamelessly against your lips, rough hands releasing your wrists and sliding teasingly up and down your thighs. The touch has you trembling in his lap, and he’s kissing you before you can be too embarrassed. “If you hate it, I’ll stop and you can fucking edge me until I blackout, I swear to god. You gotta let me see you like this, Y/N. Please, Gorgeous…?”

Good GOD he was shameless, literally begging you to allow him the chance to make you feel good, to show you how good he can make you feel- how much he wanted to be the one to do it to you first.

 Anticipation was knotted in your throat as you smashed your lips to his, a flutter of heady resolve resting in your belly. As if he could taste what you were thinking, he wrapped his arms around you and hummed against your mouth.

 “God, you’re so perfect...” he pulled you into him, rolling his hips in a way that seemed to remind you of the urgency you both had felt before. 

When he pulls back this time he’s grinning at you like a complete idiot, happier than any man should be at the prospect of cunnilingus, in your opinion.

 But Edward Heffron was nothing if not enthusiastic in his pursuits.

 “Hands on the windowsill,” he said breathlessly, his cheeks turning pink and making you want to kiss him again. When you didn’t follow his request quickly enough he guided your hands there himself and folded your fingers around the frame of the open window. 

 You quirked an eyebrow at him. “Do I want to know how long you’ve been thinking about this, or will I be insulted?”

 He smacks your thigh lightly, drawing a surprised yelp from your lungs that melts into a hum of amusement as he kneads the reddening flesh.

 “How about we err on the side of caution and say….. just within the past few months?”

 “And you held me in the highest regard before that- right, Private?”

 He says nothing for a moment, and when he does agree to your proposed question he mumbles it into the valley between your breasts.

 “Hmph. You’re a terrible liar. This had better be worth it.”

 Seemingly satisfied with your ability to keep your hands where he set them, Babe encourages you to rise up to your knees so you’re no longer flush in his lap. Immediately, his eyes flick down to your sex, and you cannot help the way your thighs start to shake

 He says something under his breath that you can’t quite catch before he looks back at your face and his expression softens for a second.

 “Remember what I said earlier? I mean it, you know I mean it—”

 You’re nodding before he can finish the sentiment, letting a soft smile play at the corners of your kiss-swollen lips. “You’ll be the first to know if I want to stop. Promise.”

 With one more biting kiss to the middle of your chest he brings his assault downwards with hands, lips, and teeth- his touch just the right amount of hard and teasing to send your head swimming long before you finally feel his breath on the overly-sensitive skin of your inner thighs.

 “Oh fuck,” he sounds far away, but maybe that’s just because you’re feeling too big for your own body at the moment. “Could die happy here…”

God, he’s such a whore.

 The first touch of his tongue has you pitching yourself forward, eyes squeezed shut as you let your face poke out the window enough to feel the breeze on your clammy face. 

 Shit, he was good at that- it felt so good. If you didn't have your own goddamn skeletons in your proverbial closet you may have even been jealous to think of all the other women who had been privy to this most spectacular consideration. Babe was kissing you down there just as sweetly as he had ever kissed your lips, and it made you briefly wonder if anyone else from your past could have made you feel as high as he was making you feel right now.

 Bowing your head to look down at him, your breath catching at the sight of him looking up at you from between your thighs, his arms folded around your hips to control the small jumps you couldn’t seem to get a handle on.

 “Fuck, Babe!” you bite out, the idea of him looking up your body and watching you squirm threatening to overwhelm you. “Can’t fucking do that, ‘s gross angle for me…”

 “Oh?” he said, the sound and feeling of his voice running up your body in the most sinful way. “I beg to differ...”

 Knowing that watching him watch you would ultimately be too much, you shake your head to clear your thoughts and lift your head to look back out the window into the night air.

 Only to come face to face with Ronald Speirs.

 A sound of surprise, shock, embarrassment, and panic got caught in your throat alongside your cresting moan and resulted in the most depraved cry that seemed to surprise all three of you.

 Your blood boiled as it froze in your veins as you made eye contact with Speirs, mortification and utter shock leaving your mouth hanging open in a silent shriek of horror.

 You had no idea how long the other man had been standing there, but if the look in his eyes was any indication it had been long enough to know exactly what was happening on the other side of the wall, just below the window frame. A cigarette hung forgotten between his lips as he openly stared at you, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed silently.

 When Babe’s hand came up to squeeze your breast enticingly, you nearly jumped out the window. 

 Oh my God This can’t be happening right now I have to stop him Oh fucking hell….

 Your head whipped down and he looked up at you with heavy-lidded eyes, mouth red and damp as he panted wickedly up at you. “You okay, Gorgeous?”

 A crushing realization fell onto you in that very moment: there was no way you could tell him what was happening- who was there watching your shared private moment outside. Because that would mean that you’d have to explain that Ron always did this, that every night he would smoke near wherever you were sleeping that night and keep watch like a possessive and protective shadow. 

 And the only way you could explain that was by telling Babe about what you and Ron had once had- no, almost had. He rejected you, you reminded yourself harshly. He made his stance on you abundantly clear when he’d had you transferred into Easy Company. The fact that Speirs still behaved as if he was somehow responsible for you was not your problem.

 Besides, you had Babe. You wanted Babe. Even if the ache in your heart tried to tell you differently.

 You made your peace with Ron Speirs’ rejection a long time ago.

 Not trusting your voice, you nod vehemently and hope what is happening outside isn’t clearly written on your face. 

 A smug grin stretches across his face. “Good, ‘cause you taste better than I imagined…..”

 You curse as he pulls you back down to his mouth, your head flashing back up to see that Ron has gotten rid of his cigarette and shucked off his heavy coat and gun. His dark eyes look downright predatory, and if you had any sense in your sex-dumb head you would stop this debauchery and transfer somewhere far away from the both of them.

 You open your mouth to do something, anything to save yourself some dignity in this fucking exhibitionist nightmare, but Speirs’s finger flies up to his lips, the command clear even through the darkness.

 You knew this would happen eventually something in his gaze seemed to accuse. Did you really believe you could forget who you’re wishing was beneath you?

 But as you watch him tilt his head, something else is conveyed: he’s asking for permission. 

 He didn’t intend to leave. He wanted to watch.

But he would, if you wanted him to.

 It was cruel of him, and something in the way he worked his jaw told you that he knew it too, but like you he was too far gone to stop it. 

 You both know better, each of you having your own reasons for not wanting to inevitably hurt the other and cross that line. Your own sick, backwards ways of self-protection and showing affection for the other seemed to be twisting and becoming more complex as time went on. 

The more involved you became with Babe….Ron suddenly wanted to be your friend again just after you had first slept with Babe.

 You immediately understood that you and Ron were nearing your final days of dancing around each other, that you would have to be the one to stop it. Because Edward Heffron was too good and too kind to be fucked with like this. Eventually, you would have to stop being so selfish.

 In a final show of weakness, you nod silently to Ron, your breath coming in quick bursts as your lover has patiently worked you up and up to the crest of your crescendo, none the wiser to the wicked thoughts and realizations spinning around in your head. 

 I really am a monster.

 But you couldn’t focus on that right now, not as Ron stalked right up to the window with such confidence that you thought you had gravely misread the situation and he was going to announce himself to Babe. 

 You had just begun to make a hush of protest when his cold hands gripped yours and he knelt down so he was nose to nose with you, his hot glare turning it into another embarrassing sound of pleasure.

 “Shit!” You whimpered, your body trembling more violently as the coil in your belly began to constrict. Ron’s thumbs rubbed the back of your knuckles in a soothing motion as he made a sound of pity low in his throat, the clucking of his tongue quiet enough that it disappeared in the sounds of the forest surrounding them. 

When you get a better look at his face you can see his look of empathy is almost mocking, and you briefly wonder if you would ever have sex with someone who didn’t like to antagonize you the whole time.

 As you try to pull your hands out from under his, he shakes his head sternly before wrestling them into his grip, the action pulling you slightly further out the window and making you gasp.

Babe chuckles and grips your ass to control the speed in which your hips rocked, a nibble on your clit nearly making you scream.

 You’re a terrible person. You’re the worst kind of woman. you hate yourself for this.

 Ron’s brows furrow and his face goes soft, eyes a warm burn rather than a vengeful inferno. You don’t realize you have begun crying until he brushes the tears from your cheeks with quick fingers.

You press your forehead against his as your body bows in warning, your orgasm approaching with unforgiving intensity. 

 Ron doesn’t kiss you and you don’t kiss him. You never had and after this long, you don't think you ever will. You hate how much you wished you could though.

Especially with another man’s tongue working you into a frenzy at the same fucking time.

 “Please, I want you...” you said pathetically, and Ron had the grace to look down in shame. Guilty fingers intertwined with yours and with a sad grimace he kissed the backs of your hands.

 “I know you do, I’m so sorry,” he breathes across your knuckles, tongue darting out to wet the chilling skin where he kissed, kissing your hand as he had wished to kiss your mouth each and every day since he had met you. 

 But you couldn’t, he couldn’t. And he wouldn’t let you ever try.

 You came with a silent cry, only the whispered reminder from both of the men you loved to breathe saved you from falling apart in the most critical moment.

 Because you are cruel you take one hand from Ron, the one he wasn’t kissing, and pull it back. 

 Babe’s overgrown hair is soft and damp as you reach down to rake your fingers through it, quickly finding his hand on your hip and clinging to his fingers with painful desperation as you quake above him.

Pulling you impossibly close to his mouth, Babe holds you as you tremble through the last of your pleasure, suckling once, twice more before noisily pulling away from you. 

 The sound was so lewd even Ron had to close his eyes and grit his teeth in order to stay quiet.

your hair clung to your face, and after sliding his fingers from yours Ron brushes the sweaty strands around your hairline.

 As you begin to catch your breath, you remember who you are, who all you’re with, and all that’s brought each of you to this point. You remember that Ron Speirs has to go, will always have to go. 

 He didn’t want you to be his,  wasn’t interested in sharing his barracks or you asking him about his past or remembering your birthday. You didn’t matter, none of this did. 

 All that mattered to him was the fight. The big picture. “We’re all already dead. Why bother acting like this is anything other than a distraction?”

 “Y/N,” Babe’s gentle kisses land on your hips and you realize that the time for your decision is coming sooner than she had anticipated. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

 You take a few more shuddering breaths with Ron, and from the way he tightened his jaw you knew he knew that you were going to have to let one of them go. And, because he’s just as selfish as you are, he doesn’t want you to choose Babe. 

 He’d rather keep you like a lark he can turn to for reassurance and comfort. Like a bird in a cage.

 With a final sniffle, you look down, away from Ron, and give all of your attention to the beautiful, sex-mussed man who was looking up at you so sweetly and with such a clear desire for approval that you almost started crying all over again.

 Ron lets you slip your fingers from his and takes a silent step back as you return your attention to your lover. You let him disappear into the night.

 “Nothing at all, Babe,” you reassure him with a sigh, moving shakily down his body so you can kiss him as deeply as you can, sealing your body to his as you hold his face between your hands. “I just forgot where I was for a second there.”

 Nipping at your bottom lip, he waits until you pull back before smiling stupidly at you.

“That good, huh?”

 Shaking your head, you scoff and flick his chest. As he starts to chuckle, you roll yourself off of him enough to scratch your nails lightly across his stomach.

 “I’ll give you a full review after round two, how about that?” You smirk as his eyebrows shoot up, sitting up and swinging your leg over his hips to straddle him. “But right now, how about I reward the idiot I love for remembering my birthday?”

 If he’s surprised by your sudden proclamation of affection, he makes no show of it. And somehow that makes the moment all the sweeter.

~ ~

(HELLO SO SORRY FOR THE LATE FIC I LOVE YALL COVID IS A BITCH! I’M CURRENTLY WORKING ON THREE FICS SO HOPEFULLY THEY WILL FOLLOW SHORTLY! OKAY BYE BYE MY GORGEOUS GEODUCKS!)

taglist: @mrseasycompany​ @itswormtrain @mrsalwayswrite​ @happyveday​ @sunsetmando @ricksmorty @now-im-a-belieber​ @tvserie-s-world​

[seriouslysnape]

Hi, love! Could I request something with Snape and a female reader? They dating but lately, Snape is busy with work and the reader doesn't want to disturb him or tell him she needs attention because she's quite shy and doesn't want to be a burden. But when she finally gathered the courage to tell him, he's quite surprised she missed his affection so much. Smut or just fluff whatever you feel like writing will be nice! Don't feel pressure to write it if you don't like that idea. Thank you and have a great day! (PS: I miss Alan Rickman so much T^T such an amazing actor! Ps2: Because of you I started to be a Lupin girl like whaaat he so sweet, I love how you are writing him!) 🖤💚

This is SO sweet. Like SO SWEET. And also, I was the same way! I didn’t start REALLY liking Lupin until I started reading Lupin stuff!

__

Time for You

Severus Snape x Fem. Reader

Warnings: Smut, Oral sex.

Word Count: 1,891

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you.”

__

Communication is always a crucial step in maintaining a healthy, successful relationship. You knew that making your needs, wants, concerns, etc. verbally known was very important.

You were bored. Plain and simple, you were completely stricken with absolutely nothing to do while Severus remained holed away in his office. You would think that a school instructor would take the summers off, but Severus had a plan to change his usual class curriculum, so he had been working around the clock to create a brand new Potions class.

He had been staying busy for the first few weeks of summer, working several hours a day in his home office. Severus was always very in the zone when he worked. He tuned mostly everything out, only taking a break when he couldn’t stay awake or needed to eat or use the restroom. It was a monotonous cycle that had made your home life boring, and had taken a toll on your summer vacation.

He didn’t realize that he had been rather distant, and that he hadn’t shown you much attention at all. It didn’t help that you were too timid to actually speak up and say anything to him. You had always had a hard time expressing your wants and needs to Severus. You never wanted to come off too clingy or too pushy. You hated to ever interrupt him while he worked, so for the most part, you had stayed quiet. You didn’t want to get on his nerves or upset him.

Although, you could probably count the times he’s actually been upset with you on one hand.

You were growing more and more needy for him with each passing day. You missed his touch, his voice, and his hands on you. You just wanted him to pay attention to you, just for a little while.

You paced outside of his office, trying to encourage yourself to go talk to him. He was your boyfriend after all, and effective communication was important. Severus always expressed to you how he wanted you to tell him if you needed something. He wanted you to be happy and content, but if there was something that was making you unhappy, you had to be the one to tell him.

You took a deep breath, building up the courage to go talk to him. If nothing else, maybe you could steal a quick make out session.

You slowly pushed the door open to reveal Severus scribbling away on some parchment at his desk. He had stacks of lesson plans for the upcoming school year and a list of new materials that students would need. He had been going hard at this for a while. You just wished he’d take a break. You peeked your head in.

“Severus?” You called out to him.

His head didn’t turn to you. His body language gave no indication that he had heard you at all. You fully entered the room, closing the door gently behind you. You approached him from behind, gingerly resting your hands on his shoulders. His entire frame relaxed at the feel of such a soothing touch. He sighed lightly.

“Hello, darling.” He greeted, pausing his writing for a moment.

You rubbed his shoulders, drawing soft groans from him.

“How’s it going in here?” You asked.

“Quite well actually. I’m happy with the progress I’ve made.” He replied.

You pressed a kiss to the top of his head, his black hair was soft on your lips. Your hands moved from his shoulders so you could run your fingers through his charcoal colored locks. You massaged at his scalp as he continued to work, talking to him sweetly.

“It’s a beautiful day outside. It’s warm and the sky is clear.” You pointed out to him.

His eyes shifted from his desk to the window. He hadn’t even taken a moment to look at the perfect summer weather. It had been an unusually pretty summer, and you hated that Severus was spending it cooped up in his dark office. The two of you should be having a picnic under your favorite oak tree, or even feeding ducks by the lake. He was missing out on such a flawless summer. That only prompted you further to get him away from his loads of work and actually enjoy his time off.

“Oh, it sure is,” He announced; “You should get out of the house for a bit. Take a walk through the park, yes?” He suggested.

You took a breath.

“I want you to come with me, love.” You requested, pulling his hair carefully behind his ears.

A sigh resonated from his chest. He’d love nothing more than to break away from his desk that he had shackled himself to and soak up the outside freshness with you, but he had convinced himself that he simply had too much to do.

“I need to work. I’ll never be ready by September if I fail to keep working.” He said, still writing with his favorite quill that you had given him as a birthday gift.

He didn’t seem to notice that you were hinting at something. Over the years, he had learned how to gauge your behaviors and your moods to notice when you wanted something, but he still encouraged you to tell him yourself. Now though, he was so occupied that he didn’t notice at all. You felt a twinge of annoyance that he wasn’t taking you more seriously, which is what caused you to blurt out rather sternly.

“Severus, please.” You begged.

Your breath caught in your throat the moment the words left your mouth and Severus’ quill stopped scratching. You had surely gotten his attention, because you were never one to snarl at him like that. He set his quill down completely, turning in his chair to look back at you. You were stunned still, surprised at yourself for having such an involuntary reaction.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you.” You apologized, giving in to the urge to leave him to keep working.

You went to walk away, feeling as though you had totally crossed a line. This was always the sort of thing you tried to avoid; getting upset and possibly causing an argument. You weren’t the best when it came to confrontation, so you tried your best to maneuver around it. Before you could make any real progress to leave the room, a hand caught your wrist.

“Wait. Don’t go,” He pleaded, standing from his desk; “What’s the matter, [Y/N]?”

He knew now that you were trying to tell him something, but he wanted to see if he could get you to tell him without him having to figure it out himself. He saw the way your eyes shifted to your feet. He didn’t want you to shut down on him when he knew you wanted something.

“Please, tell me.” He added, bringing your head back so you’d look at him.

You bit your lip hesitantly. You didn’t want to seem like you were nagging him or overly pushy. But that didn’t make the fact that you were craving for his affection any less true.

“I miss you.” You finally confessed.

Severus’ expression softened even more than it was already. He could hear the desperation and longing in your voice. You were feeling neglected, and he felt guilty for not making you feel appreciated. He did appreciate you in all aspects. He adored you and he loved you. It wasn’t fair that you were feeling this way.

He was rather astonished that you had missed him enough to speak up in such a way. That’s how he knew that you were really missing him.

“Oh, my dear. Why didn’t you say anything sooner?” He questioned, caressing your smooth cheek,

You gave a simple shrug.

“I didn’t want to bother you.” You explained.

“You never bother me. I always want you to feel comfortable talking to me.” He invigorated.

You nodded into his hand, an internal cheer of victory playing in your head when he lowered his head to kiss you. His lips caught yours in a sensual way, making up for all the lost kisses from the last several weeks. You were stealing kisses from him left and right, making his heart flutter with desire. Before you knew it, you were greedily making out and he had swept you away through the house to your bedroom.

You fell onto your back onto the mattress as he continued to kiss you deeply and roughly. The noises flowing from your chest were nothing less than eager and craving. You reached for his belt, the clinking noise of it releasing was enough to get you totally excited. He pushed your hand away, a ravishing chuckle rumbling from his chest as he briefly stopped kissing you.

“This is all about you, darling.” He growled.

His lips detached from your skin, his body shimmying downwards, his face just inches away from your heated sex. He draped your legs over his shoulders as his tongue wasted no time licking a heavy stripe and your hearty whimper filled the room. He sucked and kissed as one of your hands was steady on his head to prohibit him from going too far, while the other was pressed against the headboard behind your. It felt like electricity was crackling all through your body as he mercilessly pleasured your.

“Oh, fuck...you’ve got quite the mouth, Professor.” You tried to laugh, but it came out as another moan.

Obviously this wasn't the first time you had ever been in this situation with him. But it still surprised you every time.

His chuckle vibrated against you, his voice muffled slightly;

“You better believe it.”

He knew your body backwards and forwards, which is why he put his arm over your waist to keep you from squirming too much. He smirked as he felt your muscles contract against his hold. It was a damn hot sight to see. His face buried between your legs, his tongue and lips working wonders on the woman he adored so much. Normally, he’d hold off on letting you cum. He’d slow his movements to tantalize you and make you beg. But you deserved what you wanted after these weeks.

“Severus, please...” You said feeling your legs begin to shake as his movements didn’t slow.

“I’ve got you, baby.” He spoke.

Your head fell back onto the pillow as a flash of white covered your vision. Your legs tightened on his shoulders as you crashed over your high. He continued to suck your and work you through it. He licked and swallowed your cum and lapped up your release. His name fell from your lips once more as you felt yourself settling back to normal. He grinned once your breathing attempted to slow, he returned to your side. You supposed that you owed him now, but that’d come later. He kissed you less harshly than before, you could taste yourself on his tongue.

“I love you.” You breathed out, sucking on his neck.

“I love you too.” He returned.

He hummed as you left a few hickeys on his neck. His lips finding yours soon after. He was making it a goal to stay as close to you as possible for the rest of the summer.

Potions class could definitely wait.

[fieryhonesty]

“Story’s based on a request from a Nonnie and they are right! Our Xiao needs hugs and rest a bit.”

Words: 1910

Genre: fluff, f!reader

Xiao is always keeping things for him. He will never seek company to share his burdens. After all, there is no trouble which will last long enough, he says. However he can't deny there are moments when he is fed up. Be it the never ending war he fights or his own problems. Which are having roots back in history.

Sometimes there's too much to handle at once, yet he stands tall and faces it headon. Never argues or falters with decisions. As long as it means he can protect Liyue. 

To anyone who has never seen him or rarely, he looks like a strong and cold man. But is he really like this? He is an Adeptus, he has seen a lot and experienced some battle scars. Was Xiao always like this? Back in the days when all other Yaksha existed. 

Many things happened in his life. He can't even count or remember it all. But all those things made him who he is now. Although there are things which still surprise or confuse him. 

He never liked showing himself in front of mortals. There are just a few ones which he tolerates or even allows to talk to him. If he is in a good mood of course. The ones who know Xiao also know about keeping distance when he is upset.

But there's one mortal whose boldness or maybe stupidity never ceases to amaze him. He told you so many times to leave him be, added harsh words and yet... you didn't turn away. Instead approached and offered a companionship. 

He eventually gave up with chasing the silly female away. At first he didn't know why she was so stubborn. Mortals are strange but you are like one or two levels stranger than anyone else. Just why do you wish to spend time with somebody like him?

You are like a bridge between the silent and closed up Adeptus and mortal realm. Part of him is still hesitant and refuses to share his burdens. He might have allowed you to stay beside him, be it in silence or tell him what you did that day. What strange things happened or something. He would just sit there and listen. But none of this means he will let his guard down. He will always be fully aware of what's happening around. 

You are often asking yourself: does he ever rest? As you know him for a while you are able to recognize when he is really sad and you shouldn't say much. Or when he is quite alright and willing to listen to your rambling until you fall asleep. The fact you can peacefully sleep in Xiao's presence amazes him.

Today is one of those nights when he would have preferred to be just alone. But why does he feel this burning desire to pay you a visit? Is it because you didn't come for a few days and he got worried? No. That can't be it. Xiao has no attachment to anybody, especially mortals.

Truth to be told, he feels tired and despite feeling the way he feels. He decides to silently knock on your door. At first he thought he knocked too lightly. For a brief second he thought to himself to leave. Why is he here anyway? But then he heard your footsteps from behind the door. 

He feels so conflicted. He shouldn't be here, seeking anyone's company. Solitude and sadness are nothing to him.

When you open the door of your apartment, the cold is immediately making you shiver. Not wasting any second grabbing Xiao's wrist and pulling him inside. The cold is too much for you. How the heck he can just stand there and not shiver?! 

Be it anyone else touching him, he would have asked them if they do have a death wish. He got used to your touch at least a bit. You sometimes gently squeezed his hand in a friendly gesture. To assure him you are there, willing to listen to anything or just sit silently and observe the sky.

Letting go of his wrist and looking into his golden eyes. As usually his expression is the same but you can feel he is not alright. His shoulders are unusually down and overall his posture is different. 

"Is something wrong?"

You ask with a slightly tilted head to the side. You are not even aware of this, you do it automatically all the time. It's kind of cute but don't expect the Adeptus will say it out loud. He is already confused. He wanted to be alone, why did he come here. He is clearly delaying your bedtime. He should have never come. But the words escaping his lips are even more confusing him. 

"You didn't come..."

Is he really worried about a mortal? Didn't he promise to himself to never get any attachment to anyone? Not even to another Adepti. 

Your next move is really bold and unexpected. Xiao gasps in surprise as you wrap your arms around him.

"Y/n? What are you...?"

Perhaps embracing him would not be the brightest idea if you consider how little he knows about human interactions. But you couldn't help yourself. Feeling a bit guilty for making the poor man worried. He already has a lot on his plate.

"I'm sorry if I did worry you."

You said as you gently rubbed his back, drawing circles in a soothing manner. 

It took him a while to realize what was going on. He seen this act between other mortals but never cared what does it mean. It's just two people are in close proximity, touching each other. But there's something strange about the act. 

Your warmth. 

He didn't feel cold while being outside, he is used to it. But when he feels your warmth he can't help it but feel a bit at ease. When you pull back to check on him, he feels a little... sad? Perhaps he missed the opportunity to repay the act. 

"You know. There's something I had noticed about you, Xiao."

He lifts an eyebrow at you. Unable to contain the curiosity.

"How much do you trust me?" 

You ask while trying to keep your smile. Aware of how much the question doesn’t make sense with what you said before.

Xiao on the other hand is pondering over your question. How much does he trust a mortal like you? And why are you asking him in the first place?

"That's stupid thing to ask. You should have known the answer already."

There we go again. Xiao and his not so sugar coated words. Surely you know he has at least a bit more trust in you than other humans. But would he let you touch him even more? No matter how you put it, it will sound wrong.

"Well then... it just crossed my mind out of nowhere but. Uh... There's something that always bugged me. Do you ever rest or relax at all? I mean yes you do just hang around at Wangshu here and now. But I mean like a real rest..."

You had to stop yourself. Feeling how your monologue was getting worse by each said word.

"I don't need to-"

"Yes, you do." 

Oh no. It slipped out faster than you could think of it. He is silent, eyes slightly narrowed. Did you anger him? It's quite easy to do it after all.

"What do you propose then?"

"Eh?" 

"Don't 'eh' at me. If you think I need to relax then you should have an idea how."

You are finally on the same page. Sometimes you hate your brain to jump into way too fast conclusions. You motion for him to follow you to your living room where you both sit on the sofa. Telling him to sit turned back to you. 

You are sitting behind him. What are you planning? Ah! A gasp escaped his lips making him feel embarrassed. You just barely touched his shoulders. Not even using too much force, just a gentle squeeze to test waters. 

"So, can I give you something that my mom calls a medicine for tired muscles?" 

A simple massage. Just by a single touch you could feel how tense his muscles are. He nods. Being glad you can't see his face now. Biting his bottom lip. He didn't know how much his back actually hurts. Not paying attention to it anymore. But now, he is melting under your touch. 

You try to be gentle but also applying some pressure to help his muscles to relax. You had learned how to massage when you were teen as your mother always had back pain from her work. This was the fastest help, along with pain killers.

Xiao deeply exhales, closing his eyes. He hates to admit it but this feels good, maybe too good. Perhaps he could let his guard down for a bit, at least for now. Letting your skilled fingers caress him. Exhaustion and fatigue is slowly getting under his skin. And this warm feeling, he wants more. Just like when you embraced him a while ago. 

You noticed how much he relaxed under your hands. You can't help it but smile from ear to ear. The mighty Guardian, always so rigid can't endure the pleasant feeling. 

"If you are tired you can sleep over, I don't mind. Unless... you have plans to mess up your back just right when I fix them up?"

You had secretly hoped he wouldn't disappear when you are done. You know when he leaves your place he will go back to his stiff attitude again. 

"Somebody has to keep you safe at night. Take it as a payment..." 

You giggle as he says that. You could tease him about admitting he likes this but decided to rather not.

When you were done and brought him a spare blanket you noticed his blush. Not saying anything and just offering the warm cover. What you did not expect was him grabbing your wrist. 

"Xiao?"

"How can... I keep you safe if you are in the other room?"

Oh damn. Your brain is preoccupied with why he just won't admit he wants to keep you close. 

"Um, you want to move the sofa into my bedroom?" 

He groans. Why you must play dumb now? All he wants is more of your warmth. When you embraced him, when you touched him. He felt at ease  which is new to him. Is it too much to ask for more? Well, maybe he should actually ask and be straight for once.

"Just... stay close." 

"Oh-"

That escalated quickly. For both of you. You decided to spare him from more suffering as you could see his face was slowly turning to tomato color. And you? You weren't much better. Turning off the lights before sliding under the blanket. For once being glad to have a bigger sofa. 

As you are both laying on your sides you feel Xiao's hand hesitantly go over you to pull you closer to him. Don't even think of escaping when he falls asleep. He has you secure. And certainly he won't admit any of this the next morning.

He is tired and confused by his behavior but he decided to blame it on his fatigue. You better don't mention any of this. Not even the way he is having a firm grip of your clothes. Or how quickly he fell asleep.

[rocorambles]

Spread Your Wings

Pair: Ukai x 3rd-Year Female Manager Reader 

Genre/Warnings: NSFW, Yandere, Toxic Relationship, Corruption Kink, Manipulation, Degradation, Slapping, Choking, Branding, Marking, Humiliation, Dub-Con, Mind Break, Cum Play

Summary: When Ukai sees the innocent naive baby crow who’s helping to manage the chaotic flock, he can’t help but think it’s only right for him to help her spread her wings. After all, that’s what a coach is there for, right?

Requested by Anon

Ukai had noticed you right away. He thinks it's almost like fate, the way his eyes just naturally fall on you as soon as he steps into the gymnasium and he knows he should be focusing on checking out this new team he's somehow agreed to coach temporarily, but it's hard to think of sweaty brats when you're walking around, a breath of fresh air in the midst of chaotic shouting and movement. But at the sound of his name, he forces his attention back on the court, focusing on the plays in front of him despite the temptation to sneak glances your way as you excitedly cheer on your fellow third-years and he can't help but think you're absolutely adorable as you grin from ear to ear as the team plays, although he finds the returned looks of endearment from your classmates to be much less adorable. But despite it all, he's more than mildly impressed with the team's ability and as everyone files out and you give him a shy smile and a polite bow, suddenly the idea of permanently being a coach doesn't seem that bad after all. 

He should feel guilty for making you do so much work by yourself, for always ushering out the rest of the team as fast as he can, spouting bullshit excuses about them needing rest and that it's a manager's job to put away all the equipment, but there's no room for remorse when it's finally just the two of you in the empty gym. He pretends to put away a few things, jot a few lines in his notebook, anything to make him look busy, but in actuality you're all he cares about and he watches as you bend over to pick up stray balls, your pants stretching over your ass as you lean down and he wonders how your cheeks would feel in his calloused hands. He watches as you reach up to take down the net, eyeing the bit of bare skin revealed when your shirt rises up with your movement and he wonders what it would look like with finger shaped bruises decorating it. And when he goes home after nights like these, he closes his eyes as he lays in bed, stroking his cock to the thought of fucking you in the equipment room, to the thought of how pretty you'd look covered with his cum, to the thought of how perfect his name would sound when you moan it. 

However, he's nothing but a gentleman when the two of you interact with each other and maybe growing up in a small town like Miyagi has made you naive, but you're completely oblivious to the predatory gaze that follows you around, that eyes the flouncing hem of your school skirt as you make your way to the gym, a warm smile on your face as you greet him. Maybe if you weren't so trusting you would have seen how the blonde haired man stiffens as you bend down to take off your shoes, giving him a brief glance at your panties. Maybe you would have seen his fists clench as he restrains himself from pouncing on you right there and then. But it all goes unnoticed by you and you just happily chat with Ukai as the two of you make your way to the locker rooms to change, genuinely enjoying getting to know the older man better. 

Ukai is handsome. You'd have to be blind as a bat to not notice that and as cliche as it is, as soon as you had turned 18 and entered your final year of high school, boys and men caught your eyes differently than they used to. It's ironic considering how inexperienced you are, having had nothing more than a kiss here and there, but suddenly you can't stop admiring Asahi's strong figure as it arches through the air when he spikes, your eyes linger a little too long on Suga's lips as his mouth curves into a smile, your thighs rub together at the dominant tone in Daichi's words when he uses his captain voice. 

But no one distracts you more than Ukai and you can't stop staring at the way his lips wrap around the cigarettes he smokes. Your throat goes dry at the sight of his forearms flexing as he crosses his arms, and you wonder if he'd be as stern in bed as when he scolds the boys. You're secretly glad for the amount of time the two of you have alone after practices and maybe you take a little longer than you should to put away everything as you watch him from the corner of your eye, but he never seems to mind the wait, so you continue to draw it out. 

You wonder if it's just your imagination that he seems more and more touchy as time goes on and you swear his fingers are almost purposefully brushing against your hands every time he passes you something. You swear he purposefully stands or sits so near you that you can feel his body heat warming your side. You swear his hand purposefully touches you lower than it should when he gives you a friendly pat on the back. But he's nothing but friendly and polite when it's just the two of you and you're not sure why you feel a tinge of sadness at that realization. 

But Ukai only has so much control and when the team goes to Tokyo for a week long training camp and he sees you walk out of the girl's bathroom with that flimsy little outfit you call pajamas, your nipples evident through the thin fabric, your breasts bouncing in a way that makes it obvious you aren't wearing a bra, your ass practically falling out of your booty shorts, he can't stop the way he corners you against the wall, your surprised squeak only making his cock twitch as he hungrily captures your lips with his. He panics as he pulls away from the kiss, cursing himself for not sticking to his long-term plan, but when you shyly tug on his shirt, drawing him back down, and you hesitantly kiss him back, he melts into your touch, a smirk dancing on his lips from the success of finally having you in his clutches. 

It's pathetic how easy it is to sneak you into his room at night and he can't help but think it's even more of a sign that this is fate. He knows he should feel guilty about the way he insistently coaxes you past your limits, the way you nervously bite your lower lip indicating how uncomfortable you are with how rapidly he's corrupting and defiling you, but he can't help his excitement and eagerness to fully claim your body as his and you never outright stop him...not that he'd listen to you if you did. 

When you had told him you were practically untouched, he had to fight the urge to not just shove you down on his mattress and rip you apart with his cock right then and there. A pretty young thing like you was asking for trouble by revealing such delectable information to a wolf like him. But Ukai has always liked playing with his food before eating it and he takes his time with you. 

The first time you're splayed out in his bed he slowly undresses you, relishing in how you shudder at just the slightest brush of his rough hands against your skin. It's all so new to you and you can feel your mind spinning just from the sexual tension in the air as layer after layer of clothing is stripped from you until you're completely bare under his still fully clothed body. You're already panting as he takes a moment to devour the sight of you and you gasp when your hands that instinctively move to cover yourself as much as you can are caught in large hands and held down on either side of your head. 

"Don't you dare hide from me. I want to see every inch of you." 

Your heart is racing as his lips kiss and lightly suck your neck and you mewl as his tongue continues trailing down your jugular, teeth nipping at your collarbone, lips brushing against your hardening nipples. And your back arches as he purses his lips and teasingly sucks on your nipple, one of his hands releasing yours as he tweaks and pinches your other nipple. You're nothing but a puppet in his hands and Ukai loves how sensitive you are, how responsive you are and he relishes in the way your body writhes against him, unknowingly grinding against his erect cock. If this is how you are just from your nipples, he wonders how much more you'll descend into lust if he does this…

Your eyes shoot wide open as fingertips drag against your glistening pussy and you whimper as Ukai brings his coated fingers to your face. 

"I've barely touched you and you're already soaking wet, babe. You sure you're a virgin? Because it sure seems like you're a slut." 

You cringe at the harsh words and you open your mouth to deny it only to let out a choked scream as he shoves two fingers into your tight walls. And oh God, you've touched yourself before, but his fingers reach deeper, trailing across places inside of you you've never felt before and suddenly it's hard to think of any retort to the humiliating words he spits down at you as he rapidly thrusts in and out of you. Maybe you are a dirty slut like he keeps on saying. You certainly sound like one as your wanton moans mix with the slick sound of your pussy as he adds another finger inside of you. You can feel a knot coiling inside of you, your thighs clenching, your fingers twisting into the bedsheets, and all it takes is Ukai's thumb circling your clit and his mouth greedily suckling your nipple to have you fall over the edge and you scream as you clench and release all over his fingers. 

You're exhausted, your chest is heaving, and your mind is blank with pleasure, but there's no time to rest when Ukai shoves his coated fingers into your mouth and orders you to clean the mess you made. A part of you wishes your first sexual experience would have been a bit more gentle and loving, but you're delirious in your post-coital bliss and he had made you feel so good, surely you owe it to him to listen to him, right? You obediently suck, swirling your tongue around his fingers, grimacing at tasting yourself, but you let out a startled noise when you see him pull his pants down and begin to furiously rub himself and you try to back up, unsure of what's happening, but he wraps a hand around the front of your throat, keeping you in place as he paints your breasts with thick spurts of white. You feel so dirty and tears threaten to fall from your eyes as he coos down at you about what a gorgeous cumrag you are for him, but when he wraps his strong arms around you, you can't help but sink into the comforting warmth he provides, your physically and mentally exhausted body yearning for aftercare, yearning for affection after being so thoroughly used for the first time. 

And that's how you find yourself back in his bed a second night. You're confused as he moves lower and lower on the bed, unsure what he's planning until your breath hitches at the feeling of air blowing against your already dripping cunt and your thighs instinctively try to close shut, but they're kept spread apart by strong hands as he begins to mouth and kiss your sensitive lips and you cover your face in embarrassment when he inhales your scent. But when he flattens his tongue against you and slowly drags it across your dripping slit, you try and shove his face away from you, telling him it's dirty, but you're scared into submission when he snarls at you and venomously hisses at you to lay back and take it like a good whore. Dumb little girls like you don't know anything about what makes them feel good. 

You’re shell shocked into laying back, frightened from having such demeaning words thrown at you when you’re so vulnerable, but your body is forced to relax as moan after moan escapes past your lips as he slurps every drop of you up and you let out a high-pitched keen as he shoves his tongue deep inside of you, swirling the wet muscle around as he attempts to lap all of you up and it’s embarrassing how quickly you come undone as he noisily sucks your clit. Your body slumps onto the bed as you try to catch your breath, but you wail when Ukai’s tongue never stops moving and you know there’s going to be bruises from how hard he’s pressing against your thighs as he keeps you still despite your struggling. You beg for him to stop, to let you rest, but it falls on deaf ears and you think you might go crazy as all too soon you’re being forced to another peak and your face is a mess of snot and tears as your body convulses once again underneath him. 

You’re still twitching when a hand drags you by the roots of your hair and you sob as your head is shoved into Ukai’s crotch, pre-cum smearing all over your face as he slaps your face with his cock and it’s all you can do to open your mouth as he shoves his shaft inside of your wet hole, forcing you down and down until your nose brushes against his lower stomach and all you smell is his musky scent, all you feel is his tip pressing against the back of your throat, all you know is the discomfort of not being able to fully breathe as you’re forcefully pulled up and down his length until you’re shoved down one final time as warm liquid seeps down your tight throat. You curl in on yourself when he finally releases you, feeling used despite the lingering toe curling pleasure that’s languidly coursing through you, but when he gives you the friendly smile you’ve come to love over the months you’ve known him and genuinely praises you for being such a good girl, your heart flutters and you let him draw you into his lap as he affectionately holds you and you think that maybe it’s not so bad after all. 

But it’s the third night you slip into his room that you’ll consider the turning point in your relationship when you look back on it and the first time he takes you is everything you’ve imagined losing your virginity to be like. It’s a 180 degree difference from how he’s been the last two nights and you love it. You love how gentle he is as he sensually kisses you, you love how careful he is as he slowly sinks his cock into your tight virginal hole inch by inch, and only when you’re the one urging him to continue, begging for him to fuck you does he move his hips back and forth, showering you with praises about how beautiful you are, how good you feel, and you think you might be addicted to how right it feels when you cum, your pussy clenching around his cock, how perfect it feels to be full of him and his seed. And it’s like a switch in you has been turned on by the man on top of you as you wrap your legs around his back, forcing him to stay inside you, lewdly shaking your hips and whining for more despite the fact that you’d just climaxed and Ukai smiles at the obscene sight you make. But he only responds by gently kissing you and pulling out, making sure you’re cleaned up and taken care of despite your slutty complaints for more. And you’re left to pout as he winks and sends you back off to your shared room with the other female managers, unknowingly falling deeper and deeper into his trap. 

He doesn’t text you to come to his room for the rest of training camp and you’re practically running solely on sexual frustration by the end of the week. You wait for the breathing around you to even out at night before your hands slide down between your thighs, but it’s never enough, it’s never the same, even when you try and imagine larger, rougher hands and fingers replacing yours. Imagination can only do so much when you’ve tasted reality and you glower across the cafeteria as Ukai chats with Saeko in front of you, her chest practically bouncing in front of him as she laughs at something he says. Ukai almost wants to laugh at how predictable you are and he rests a hand casually on Saeko’s shoulder as he continues talking, making sure you take notice of the contact, take notice of the way he leans in close to Saeko’s face as he whispers something in her ear. And finally all his scheming comes to fruition as the team returns to Miyagi where he quickly shoos them all away to get some rest, keeping only you behind with him as the two of you work together to put all the equipment away and he hides the smirk that threatens to spread across his face when you practically tackle him in the storage room, grinding against him like a bitch in heat and while you bounce on his cock there on the dusty floor, you promise to be his secret cute little girlfriend, his secret fuck doll, his secret cum bucket. 

Luckily for him, you’re not the only naive little crow in Miyagi and the two of you go on unnoticed, the boys too focused on volleyball to notice anything off between the two of you, to notice the way your body’s changing, to notice how their manager is becoming nothing more than their coach’s little slut. They don’t notice the slight quiver in your voice or the slight whirring noise coming from inside of you as he increases the vibrations of the bullets inside of you. They don’t notice the way you always wear your jacket to hide your constantly aroused nipples. They don’t notice the way your thighs clench as you struggle to keep all of Ukai’s cum inside of you. And it’s so easy for Ukai to train you more and more each day after practice until just hearing his voice is enough to elicit a full body shudder, until just a touch of his fingertips against your skin is enough to have you arching into his touch, until you can’t go a day without his cock inside of you, until you’re completely and utterly his.

The two of you can barely wait for Nationals, excited to finally be able to spend entire nights after nights with each other, and it starts off perfectly. What’s not perfect about having his cock balls deep inside of you, your loud moans echoing off the hotel walls as he ruins you over and over again? But his fantasy is shattered when he turns the corner on his way to the restroom and finds you boxed against the wall by Miya Atsumu. Just seeing Atsumu touch something that belongs to him is enough to have his teeth clench, but it’s the little giggle and smile you give the blonde setter that have him seeing red and his nails dig into his clenched palms so tightly that tiny drops of crimson litter the floor underneath him as he watches you two. But the pain grounds him a bit and he continues to the restroom. He can wait until tonight, until there’s nowhere for you to run, until there’s no one to witness how he’ll tear you down and put you in your place, remind you who you belong to. 

You eagerly slip into Ukai’s bedroom, excited for another long and deliciously exhausting night, but you hesitate as you draw near where he’s seated on the bed, mouth set in a stern line, eyes glaring at you. 

“Keishin, is everything oka-”

“On your knees now.”

You immediately drop to your knees in between his spread legs, wincing at the sudden harsh contact, but you shiver as a warm hand gently rests on your cheek, a thumb caresses your cheekbone, and you instinctively lean into the touch. 

“So how long have Atsumu and you been fucking?”

Your blood goes cold at his words and you recoil from his touch, or at least you try to, but you whimper as the hand that had been so tenderly touching you swiftly moves to wrap around your neck, holding you in place, cutting off your airflow, bruising the tender skin. You desperately claw at his forearm, nails digging into his skin and leaving red scratch marks all over him, but you go limp when a sharp stinging pain echoes throughout your body and suddenly your lack of oxygen isn’t top of mind as you slowly come to terms with the lingering burn of your smarting cheek and Ukai smiles at how docile you become after a single slap. You’re still struggling to breathe, but your hands return to the top of your thighs, fingers digging into your flesh as you stare up at him with teary eyes. Cute. 

“I think you’ve forgotten who you belong to and I’m going to remind you that I’m the only man allowed in your life, allowed to touch you. Get on the bed, lay on your back, and stay still. You’re going to take everything I give you and you’re not going to fucking whine or complain.”

You take deep heaving breaths, gasping as you drink in much needed oxygen when he abruptly releases you and terror roots itself in you, driving you to lunge at the bed as you quickly follow his orders, not wanting to make him angrier than he already is. But when you’re spread out on the bed, your eyes nervously follow him as he takes a step back to light a cigarette and you take the tiny lull of his actions as he takes a drag as a chance to plead and reason with him, to explain yourself. 

“Keishin, I swear I never let Atsumu do anything other than flirt with me. Please, you have to believe me. I only love you. You’re the only man who’s ever touched me.” 

You hold your breath as Ukai slowly turns his head to look at you, blowing smoke from his lips as he regards you and you sigh in relief when he smiles as he slowly walks towards you, cigarette still in hand. And you lace your arms around his neck as he hovers over you, only to try to shove him away from you as an agonized scream is wrenched from your throat as he digs and rubs the burning end of his cigarette into your inner thigh. But he’s too big, too strong, and he doesn’t even budge an inch as he just shushes you, affectionately capturing your lips with his as he continues grinding the burning stick into you until there’s no more heat, and an aching soaring pain thrums from the spot. You’re sniffling, fat drops of tears running from the corners of your eyes when he finally pulls back and he smirks in satisfaction at the circular brand he’s left on you, practically folding you in half as he raises your leg enough so that you can also admire the semi-permanent mark he’s left on you and you just sob harder at the horrifying sight of burnt, marred skin. 

“That’s what you get for being a little whore. You really thought it was okay to let another man even flirt with you? To think that they even have a chance with you? Well, I guess now you really won’t be letting Atsumu anywhere near your tight cunt. I wonder what he’d think of you when he sees that you’re already a used and owned slut. Actually, maybe I should make it even clear.”

Your body flails at those words, already dreading more excruciating pain, but you slightly pause when you see him set his cigarette aside, reaching over to grab the marker he uses to draw out game strategies for the boys instead. You hesitantly lay back on the bed as he uncaps the marker and you nervously bite your bottom lip as the tip of the marker dances across your entire torso in decisive strokes, but it’s the sudden flash of a camera that has you alert again. You cower at the dark tinge to the hungry look in his eyes as he stares at the picture he took, but after being so thoroughly corrupted by the older man on top of you, you can’t help the way your thighs clench and your pussy dampens at the image on his screen as he turns his phone towards you. Your face is a mess, tears, snot, and drool glistening in the dim light, but it’s the large black words scrawled on your naked torso, above your branded inner thigh, that has your heart racing. 

Ukai’s Little Slut 

A tiny part of you understands how incriminating this photo is, how you’d die of shame if this ever got leaked to your fellow third-years, but the larger part of you, the part of you that’s had lessons ingrained into it every day, takes twisted pride in the possessive claim and Ukai smiles at your lust blown pupils. You don’t know how many rounds the two of you have gone, how many times he’s had your body falling apart on his cock, his mouth, his fingers, how many loads of sticky white fluids he’s left inside of you and on you, how many positions he’s forced your body into. Your mind can’t wrap itself around anything through the dizzying pleasure your body is drowning in and your dumb fucked-silly face only has Ukai working himself into more of a frenzy as he greedily wonders how much wider your mouth can open, how much more your eyes can roll back into your head, how much louder he can make you moan and scream. And only when he’s absolutely exhausted, heavily panting, sweat dripping down the sides of his face does he let your spent body heavily drop onto the bed, enjoying how your body twitches on the rumpled bed sheets, how broken little cries still trickle out of your mouth, how your now loosened pussy convulses around the seemingly endless stream of cum that’s starting to trickle down your thigh. 

An idea forms in his head as he watches the dripping fluids and you whimper as he finger fucks his cum back into your cunt, quickly pulling your panties back on and up you, forcing you to stay full with the sloshing liquid in your stomach. You’re still out of it as he devours the sight of you covered in his seed, a layer of sticky white coating and hardening on your breasts, the crude words still clearly displayed on your abdomen, black, blue, purple, and red bite marks and hickies decorating any other remaining inch of your skin, your new burn only accentuating your debauched image. But you try to rouse yourself back to reality as he lightly slaps your face until your eyes fixate on him. 

“You’re not allowed to wash any of this off. When you go back to your room, I want you to sleep in this filthy mess you got yourself into. I don’t care how uncomfortable it is, how dirty you feel. You’re going to be a good girl and all day tomorrow, you’re going to keep on being a helpful manager even with a stomach full of my cum. When you come back to my room tomorrow night, I better see everything just as it is right now. You like that idea, right? You like being my dirty cum bucket, my little used toy? I wonder if Atsumu would even want to look at you if he saw you covered in cum, branded and marked like fucking livestock? Should we show him tomorrow?”

You flinch at the idea of anyone else seeing you in this state and you rapidly shake your head from side to side, weak pleas and promises spilling from your lips.

“No, I’ll be your good girl. Please don’t let anyone else see me like this. Only for you. Always only for you.”

And how can Ukai’s heart not melt at the sight of you being so good, so adorable, so submissive? 

“Such a good girl. I love you, you know that right? I love you so much.”   

And how can you resist the way your heart warms at those words?

“I love you too, Keishin.”

[shorkbrian]

THIS ISNT A REQUEST its just me. LOOSING my mind over the Levi Ackerman stuff you write. like?????Levi injuring/hurting his s/o to make sure they dont go anywhere is so fbsjsja and accurate. I can physically SEE the way his hands would move to their knee and theyd be nervous but not sure just yet. Then he'd mention the expidition next week and just like that they'd know excatly what hes about to do.

Commander Erwin knowing but not doing anything about it because hell if humanities strongest solidier is gonna do that shit hes not gonna stop it. They're just gonna have to shh and be quiet. agsshsjsna I love that youd exposed me to this lmao

kashfaskak big Brian time omg

(What To Expect - no NSFW, bone breaking)

You’d get called to his office, hands sweaty and maybe shaking a bit as you open the door.

Levi’s standing at the window, looking out as he thought about who-knows-what, but he turns when you enter, indicating for you to sit.

He starts talking to you, menial conversation that is flavorless and dry, not filled with his common veiled threats or dark confessions of all the things he wants to subject you to.

Levi steps around behind you, hands falling heavy on your shoulders, and you both pretend not to see the violent flinch that the movement draws from you. Levi knows you’re afraid of him, but that works in his favor. 

You aren’t sure what he wants from you yet, maybe a blowjob? But he’s still talking, small hands beginning to knead at the muscles of your shoulders, finding the knots, the sore muscles and digging into them painfully. 

Long moments pass of Levi’s low voice filling your ear, his fingers pushing down hard into your muscles, making you wince and struggle to not move away from his touch.

But it hurts.

When he finally lets up on the painful massage you breathe a sigh of relief. The relief is short lived as he moves to your side, trailing his fingers down your arm to your hand, tracing over the tendons there with a foreboding sense of finality.

“Levi sir?” You question as he falls silent, the man intently studying your hand. He rubs his thumb over the callouses lining your fingers, the callouses that all cadets gain from operating the omni-directional mobility gear. Levi himself has similar callouses, although his are deeper and far rougher, his experience and expertise evident in the scars and weathered skin on his hands.

He lifts one of your hands as he studies it, bringing it closer to his face. You let him, just as you always do. Levi is not to be disobeyed. Maybe he’s in the mood for a hand job today?

“The upcoming expedition is going to be.... difficult.”

Your blood runs ice cold, filling your body with frost and snow. You feel like you can’t move. This can't be going anywhere good.

“I’m expecting there to be heavy losses.” The man continues, moving your fingers, bending them. “It’s a shitty fool’s errand, trying to drive back the titans that far from the wall.”

You want to snatch your hand away, but his grip is becoming increasingly tighter, one of his hands circling around your wrist to hold you fast. There’s an inkling in the back of your brain that whatever is going to happen will hurt. Levi’s going to hurt you.

“I’m ready to serve the regiment in whatever way necessary Sir.” You whisper, watching Levi play with your hand as if it were a toy that he didn’t understand.

The man nodded his head slowly, before his eyes flicked to yours. “That’s what makes you such a fine cadet. The best, actually. Always willing to do whatever your leaders command...”

What was he getting at?

“Sir? Is something wrong?” The silence is stifling, you have to ask. Maybe he just wanted to talk, maybe he just wanted to caution you about getting rest or tell you to train more. Maybe he’d act like a normal captain, and treat you like a normal cadet.

Levi sighed heavily, before the hand caressing your own stilled. “If I ordered you to stay behind, I know you’d feel guilty. Your comrades would wonder why you’re getting special treatment, the other officers would bitch and moan like whiny little piss babies about how I’m showing weakness. There’s no way for me to ensure your safety.”

The words he spoke were true.

“It’s alright Sir, I can take care of myself. I don’t need protection.”

Your hand was crushed in a painfully tight grip, Levi leaning over your chair. 

“You’re so naive. You’d get killed before you could step outside the wall.” He spoke quietly, grey eyes boring into your own, insistent.

He was scaring you.

Not knowing how to respond, you stayed silent, trying to shrink back in your chair, away from the heavy presence of your captain. The man clicked his tongue, before straightening again.

His eyes moved from your face to your hand, where he paused, before taking a closer look.

“Ah, but my finest cadet can’t go over the wall with such an injury. Stupid brat, should’ve gone to the med unit.”

What was he talking about? What injury?

You voiced your confused thoughts, and Levi grimaced, lips drawn in a thin line, eyebrows furrowed. 

“Your fucking hand, it’s broken. You broke it trying to get in some extra training with your ODM gear, didn’t you?”

“Sir, I don’t understa-”

Blinding pain lanced up your arm, and you doubled over in your chair, trying to pull your crushed hand out of Levi’s grip as you cried out.

The man kept a straight face, although a part of him felt sorrow for your pain. But it was necessary.

Another deft move with his fingers, and one of your fingers snapped like a twig, the sharp crack resounding in the room above your pained whimpers.

“Sir!?!” You cried, Levi finally allowing you to wrench your hand out of his grip, clutch the mangled extremity to your chest.

He’d broken your hand.

Levi had shattered the fine bones across the back in a terrifying display of strength, before cleanly breaking on of your fingers.

“A pity, I could’ve used you on the expedition. Too bad your shitty hand is broken.” His voice was flat as he stepped away from you, rounding his desk to sit in his chair with finality. “You should get it looked at, otherwise it’ll heal weird and you’ll be an ugly cripple.” 

You felt like screaming, anger welling up inside.

A knock on the door startled you, Levi uttering a soft “come in” before you could say or do anything.

Commander Erwin stepped inside, blue eyes flitting between you, Captain Levi, and your broken hand. There was a moment of stillness in the room.

You couldn’t let Captain Levi get away with such flagrant abuse.

“Commander Erwin! Captain Levi broke my hand.” You explained, rising to your feet.

Bushy blonde eyebrows raised slightly, but Erwin didn’t seem surprised. No, he seemed... disappointed?

“It appears so. Go get it set and bandaged Cadet, you’re relieved of duty at this time.”

You couldn’t believe your ears.

Commander Erwin believed you, he just didn’t care.

It seem that Captain Levi was allowed free reign

[haechanniesunflowers]

y/n slaps yandere!Ateez during an argument

Warnings: this kind of behaviour is sick and you shouldn't take inspiration from it. I do not support it, none of us support it or should support it. It is wrong in every way.

Mentions of blood, rage, extreme violence, gore, brutality

Requested by @btsxgx

Hongjoong

He has one rule you must remember all the time, you are not allowed to touch him without his permission, he hates being touched

You want to hold his hand? Ask him. You want to wake him up from a nap? Call his name. But you do not touch him without his permission or else he will punish you and he's a masochistic psycho so you better keep your hands to yourself

Today was a bad day for him and he was taking it out on you. He was humiliating you for no good reason even though you were on your best behaviour for him. His words were getting unbearable and then you snapped and argued back

He was stunned because you never raise your voice at him so he got physical and started pushing you harshly

In an attempt to stop him your palm landed across his jaw and suddenly everything was quite, all you could hear was your heart thumping because you had just touched him

He grabbed you by your neck and shoved you to the ground on your back and stepped on you with one foot on your ribcage

He was putting too much pressure

Hongjoong made you look at him and "you want to hurt me? That's why you hit me? Your weak hands won't do it, let me do it for you" and he started hitting his face

You tried stopping him and apologized but he wasn't having it

You had touched him and now this was your punishment, he'd hurt himself and blame it on you

Seonghwa

He's a possessive yandere so don't even think about meeting your friends

But you still kinda wanted to meet your friends so you did that, without him knowing because he was busy at work

y/n's luck really ran out today huh? Because you just came back home after having the time of your life catching up with friends and umm... is that Seonghwa in the kitchen? yes honey and I'm so sorry

"you're home early" you started the conversation and back hugged him

"yeah my students finished with their vocal lessons early so I decided to come home to spend some time with you but I guess you were out whoring around with those pathetic sluts you call friends" he said in a sweet voice but you were taken aback by his words

You let him go and tried distancing yourself from him but he grabbed your wrist and pulled you to his chest and kissed you

You resisted and accidentally hit his face and you could feel him staring to breathe heavily

He stopped kissing you and pushed you towards the counter and grabbed your hand and smashed it on it several times

You were screaming your head off so he chocked you with his other hand

By the time he was done, your hand was purple, yellow and blue and two of your fingers were bent the other way, the joints completely broken. You felt dizzy and threw up

"oh no sweetheart are you okay? you should go sit on the couch I'll make some soup for you maybe you'll feel better" he cooed as if he didn't just violently break your hand

You screamed and begged for him to take you to a hospital and he took your hand in his and squeezed it while staring at you lovingly and said "of course sweetheart, afterall your stupid friends hurt your beautiful hand and I'll tell the doctor about that, maybe he'll tell you not to see them again. And then I'll report them to the police, look at how brutal those bitches are, did they really have to break your hand?" he said and took you to the hospital (yikes)

Yunho

Remember that episode of powerpuff girls in which the girls time travel to the future and the whole town is ruined because they weren't there to save them and everyone's old and keeps saying "it's your fault". That's Yunho. Everything is your fault and he'll cry over it and if you deny or leave, he'll end up in the ER.

Please explain to him why you were excitedly thanking the cashier for the store restocking your favorite moisturiser because girl you were obviously cheating on him like that *rolls eyes*

You guys got in the car and drive off and suddenly Yunho inquires about the incident with tears in his eyes "you're going to leave me for him aren't you"

He starts whining and crying and you're scared because he's almost overspending so you slap him to bring him to his senses and ge stops the car

"y-you hit me? It's because you hate me now isn't it? You love that man and now you're going to hit me to make me feel worthless" he says but you answer with a wth because you're fed up of his jealousy and he presses the gas pedal and starts driving recklessly

You start apologizing and reassuring him that you aren't going to leave him and that you love him too much to do so, even though the relationship was exhausting but you had to say this to save your life right now

Yunho stopped the car again and hugged you and smirked to himself

"haha works every time" he thought to himself

Yeosang

His silence speaks volumes

He's the unpredictable kind

So when you slapped him for constantly scolding you for saying no to his stupid plan of going to Jongho's house to watch movies he left you alone and went on his own

But he didn't come back home for the next couple of days

You were ecstatic because "yes finally now I can have some time to myself" but days turned into weeks and now he hadn't contacted you or come home for a month and as much as you hate to admit it, you were worried so you called Jongho and asked him about your boyfriend but Jongho said he hasn't spoken to Yeosang for over a month and revealed that he didn't come to his home to watch movies the day you had the argument with him

You called all his friends but they all said they didn't know where he was

You were scared and guilty and cried

You went to the police station to file a missing report and a search for Kang Yeosang began

The police searched everywhere for him for a few weeks but there was no sign of him

Until one day, a month after the search began and you were starting to lose hope, he came back home

You asked him where he was and he told you he was home

You told him to stop playing with you and demanded to know where he went and why he left you alone

"I just told you I was home, I saw how worried you got and how you cried for me. I saw you sleeping on the couch and in our bed, waiting for any lead for me"

You were terrified of what he said because all of that was true but you knew for a fact that he wasn't home so how did he know all this

"what's going on Yeosang?" you ask him in fear

He just smiled and sat on the couch and turned the TV on

You came to sit next to him and there was silence for some time until he said "y/n? Next time try to hit me, there will be a search party for you"

San

The brutal sadist

You knew better than to get on his nerves because he switches from his usual sweet doting personality to a violent mad man

But you were on your period and everything was making you angry

San was feeling horny and wanted you but you didn't want him to come near you

You were beyond angry when he didn't stop and kept kissing you and trying to undress you, so you slapped him

San caressed his cheek and laughed a little and you knew you've done fucked up

You instantly start apologizing but San kept laughing with his hand still on his cheek

"kinky. do that again" he said

But you didn't want to do that again so you kept telling him how sorry you were and that you wanted him

He looked at you and smiled and said "I said, do. that. again." you were crying at this point

The next thing you knew, San was dragging you out the room by your arm and took you to the basement where he kept his tools. You were still apologizing in hopes of him going easy on you

He fixed your arm in one of the machines (the one which Ester uses to break her arm in the movie Orphan) and kept going until you heard the sound of your broken bones

San started slapping you and you were begging for mercy at this point

He was completely out of it and looked like he would kill you right then and there

You woke up in a hospital bed and heard the doctor telling San that "your girlfriend needs to see a psychiatrist because if she has hurt herself like that now, who knows what she would do to herself in the future"

The doctor came to check you and San held your hand "honey I was so scared! why did you hurt yourself like that. You didn't even think what I would go through, you know I can't see you in pain"

You felt tears escaping

Mingi

Mingi had just insulted your sister for visiting you and kicked her out of the house

You were furious and argued with him about it and he just said "I hate her, so she shouldn't come here where I can see her"

You said "well I hate your bitchass friends and family too, they shouldn't come here either where I can see them"

He started using slurs against your family and you slapped him out of anger

He quickly pushed you towards the wall and punched you

Your lips were bleeding but he wasn't done

He said he'd do the same to your sister she ever comes here again

You protested and called him out but he punched you again, this time drawing blood from your nose

You really didn't think Mingi would ever hit you like this but he just did and you wanted to run out of the house, away from him

But he grabbed your leg as soon as you tried to get out of the room and got on top of you

"you're really getting on my nerves today bitch"

He punched you one more time and you fainted

Wooyoung

Wooyoung is the brat tamer kind and that's what you were being right now, a brat

You wanted to leave the house and go shopping but he wasn't in the mood to go out and you weren't allowed to go without him

So you started whining

He was getting annoyed and warned you

But you had a death wish of some sort and kept whining

He had had enough and started being rough with you to stop you

You protested and accidentally slapped him

You really outdid yourself and now you were in for it

He dragged you to his room, tied your limbs and ripped your clothes off

"now I'm going to punish you for what you've done baby girl and you're going to count for me"

You tried to keep yourself composed

The whip stung your back and you screamed

"that isn't a number I hear, let's start again"

Jongho

Jongho didn't like to use his strength against you under any circumstances

He loved you too much and felt that he needed to protect you

You were happy with him but sometimes he was too much

He just told you that you are forbidden from seeing your male friend again because Jongho got the vibe that he was interested in you

You told him he was thinking too much and that your friend didn't really like you like that

But he said "no means no, you're not going to meet him again"

You were angry at him because you had to meet that friend in less than an hour "how am I going to explain this to him"?

"tell him you don't want to see him, if he's smart he'll get the message" Jongho replied

"Jongho you're being unreasonable and stupid" you said and he came to stand in front of you with his arms folded on his chest

You hated that he was challenging you right now so you slapped him

He didn't even budge because your slap was nothing compared to what he could do and he didn't want to slap you

But as payback, he forcefully took your phone and called your friend

"you make my girlfriend uncomfortable, don't ever try contacting her or meeting her again if you know what's good for you" he said on the phone

You were embarrassed and annoyed

[rattyoakenbitch]

❝𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐨 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐞❞ ─ 𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐨

hey, it's not like you ever tried to stay . .

❥ content ; gn reader, angst, dark themes, yandere themes, toxic relationship

❥ warnings ; sxlf hxrm & mxtilation, swearing, verbal abuse, manipulation, slight nxdity lol

❥ synopsis ; all you wanted was his attention. and by the gods, you were going to get his attention by any means.

❥ a/n ; first mello fic (: i've been wanting to write something dark for a while and ig i finally got the opportunity lol. i thought i got out of my death note stage but i'm back, so please don't be afraid to send requests or ask to be added to my nonexistent taglist! alsoo while this oneshot does include s/h, i am in no way glorifying or romanticizing it!!! but i do tend to write angsty and dark fics. again, this is a work of fiction and i don't intend for anyone to take this too seriously and let this influence them.

The loud crash of a glass echoed throughout the room as a vase went flying through the air and collided with the wall, just a few feet from where you were standing.

You didn't flinch. Didn't scream. Didn't cry. Didn't react. You were used to Mello's fits of rage by now, months into your relationship. If you could even call it that, at this point.

You knew Mello wouldn't dare lay a finger on you; if he did, he'd cut off his own hands and have live with the guilt forever, knowing he brought you harm. Which is why you didn't react.

However, he didn't seem to have a problem when it was only verbal.

"I don't fucking get you!" Mello spat harshly and continued to rant, "Why did you think that was okay?! Did you once consider how I felt?! I was worried sick that some asshole hurt you but you come back a day later and tell me you were at some boy's house!"

You only scoff, leaning against the wall in a relaxed manner, eyeing the remaining shards of the vase carefully. Just like Mello, you were incredibly stubborn.

"Answer me, Y/N!"

"Okay, Mihael," you state cooly, using Mello's legal name and causing him to listen more intently. "First of all, I don't know what you expected me to do when you invited your weird mafia 'friends' over while I was trying to sleep. Second, he's not 'some boy', his name is Y/F/N and he's one of a few people I can trust. I don't know what you think of me."

"You could've gotten a hotel room, that's what!"

"With what money, Mihael?! What fucking money? You forced me to quit my job and then practically lock me up in this hell hole that I can't even call 'home' anymore!"

Mello huffed. "Pfft, you should be grateful. I've kept you safe all this time, away from the dangers of the world. You're alive because of me. Me. You're mine."

"Yeah, some fucking life, right?"

"I provide for you, I protect you from the monsters out in the world, but you still decide to go and whore yourself out to your little 'friend'," Mello sneered, his sharp voice dripping with venom.

You stared at your boyfriend in disbelief. All words, all arguments and nasty retorts expiring on your lips.

"I.." You start, but laugh pitifully. "I don't even know what you're saying. I don't know if you even know what you're saying. Honestly, Mello, just when I thought you couldn't surprise me anymore, you start spewing complete and utter bullshit out of your mouth." Mello's silence only egged you on. "It's no wonder Near always came in first place." Aaand there it was. You snapped.

If looks could kill, you'd be dead. Mello's eyes widened in anger at the mention of Near, reminding him of his inferiority.

In a completely different situation where he wasn't on the receiving end, Mello would be smiling proudly, listening to your clever retorts and comebacks. You've always been as stubborn and hot headed as him, and he really liked that about you, fuck that "opposites attract" bullshit. (I ACC LOVE THAT TROPE LOL IM SORRY) However, considering you were both extremely toxic people, it was far from entertaining when it was you who got in a fight with the other.

You didn't stop, though. If he was gonna play that who-could-be-more-toxic game, you weren't gonna back down.

"I don't know if it was the explosion or you've really always been that stupid, but you need to get the fuck over yourself and stop throwing tantrums when you find out that I have a life, too, and I have friends. Friends who actually give a damn."

You stare down each other in silence, a heavy tension hanging in the air. Still, after a few moments, Mello didn't make any effort to speak or react, other than walking out of the room.

Days, weeks went by. Mello hasn't spoken a word to you. Hasn't even looked in your direction when you passed each other or walked into the same room. You didn't exist anymore, and it worried you.

Mello was never like this. Within a few days or even hours after an argument, you would easily kiss and make up. Had you gone too far this time?

Besides the fact that Mello was intentionally giving you the cold shoulder, he was also busy with work, and was out of the house from midnight to early afternoon. During that time, you would stay at home and carry out your every day mundane tasks and chores.

Even now, you didn't seek comfort in your family or friends. You were either busy keeping the house clean, sleeping, or entertaining yourself on social media. But it was all a sad attempt to keep your mind occupied on anything else other than Mello.

And one day like any other where Mello was out doing whatever the hell mafia dudes do, you snapped. You decided you were sick of the silent treatment.

If Mello was gonna play dirty and ignore you, you were gonna give him something to react to.

Mello came home some time after sunset. Kicking off his boots as he walked in the front door, he immediately knew something was off. It was quiet - too quiet. Despite the fact that you were practically taking some sort of forced break after the argument, you acted the same. You went about your day and didn't bother acting shy or timid around Mello. You still hummed earworm pop songs to yourself or put on a podcast to fill the tense air. But now there was nothing. Just Mello, the walls, and the silence.

Mello cautiously walked around the house and searched for any signs of you, fearing the worst.

As he frantically looked around, he stopped abruptly at the sight of blood smeared onto the hallway wall.

Blood.

His heartbeat began to thump loudly in his ears.

Then he noticed more blood. And more, smeared up on the wall, and eventually a trail picked up. He followed the bloody trail as it lead him through the hallway and stopped outside of your shared bedroom that he hasn't been inside for weeks.

Mello shakily inhaled and braced himself for whatever gruesome scene he would walk into.

He reached for the doorknob, twisting it and letting himself in.

Soon as he did, he ceased all motions, his breath caught in his throat as he tried to process what his eyes were showing him.

There, you sat on the bed, nothing on but your underwear and one of Mello's shirts. On one hand, you loosely held a pocket knife. On the other, you had your sleeve rolled up, your inner arm facing Mello's direction.

Your doe eyes looked up from the floor and met Mello's panicked ones. He was finally looking at you again. Despite the gorey setting and the stinging in your arm, you smiled. You were real to him again.

Multiple cuts oozed blood and trickled down your arm, onto your now dirtied clothes and the once satin white sheets below you.

As Mello got closer, silently freaking out, he could now see that these weren't just cuts - you carved out words. Sentences, onto your arm.

Among the many bloody 'I love you's' and pleads, one word stuck out to him.

It was his name.

He felt sick. Distraught. Guilty. Afraid.

"Y/N," he choked out shakily.

His gaze trailed up your arm, your body, and fixated onto your seemingly innocent face. Your face was rested and gentle, your eyes still staring up at him with adoration and desperation. If it weren't for the blood that painted your whole body and surroundings red, he would have found comfort in your presence.

"I did this.." You ran your fingers along your fresh wounds, not once wincing or drawing back in discomfort. "For you."

You continued, a sick sweetness in your voice. "Jus' wanted to show you how much I love you.. You've been leaving me so lonely, Mello." You frowned. "It was only a matter of time before I had to do something. And now you're finally here.. And you won't leave me again."

[duskholland]

What about a Soft!Mob!Tom where the reader is suuper pregnant and tom gets anything she needs (like cravings or something), and even cuddles her.

Love u

grrr this is so cute. so so so so so cute. thanks for requesting! cw: food. 

– it’s mob monday !! –

“How’s that, darling? Is that better?”

Tom’s looking at you, concern written across his face. His tie hangs loosely around his neck, his shirt crumpled. For the last two minutes, he’s been fussing around you, trying to fluff up the pillow behind your back so you’ll be comfortable. It doesn’t matter how much you move and try to reposition—there’s been a sharp pain jabbing into your lower back for the last hour, and it’s been incredibly irritating.

You hum, shifting around slightly as you test the waters with this new position. A broad smile finds your mouth.

“Better!” You announce. You sigh as you lay back, your hand drifting to rest on the curve of your baby bump. You’re eight months pregnant, and though you’re enjoying your pregnancy for the most part, it’s grown tiresome. Your hormones are all over the place, your feet hurt all the time, and the cravings have been incredibly intense. 

“Can I get you anything else?” Tom asks. He reaches down to rest his palm on your belly, his pinky finger wrapping around yours. His eyes are tired but still so full of love, and you feel your heart do a backflip as you meet them.

“No, I’m okay.” You link your hand with his and squeeze him softly. “You should go back to your meeting. I’ll be fine here.”

He frowns, his eyebrows scrunching together. “If you need anything—anything—you call me. Okay?”

You bite back the smile that threatens to seize hold of your features, and nod. Tom’s been incredibly protective for the entire duration of your pregnancy, looking after you more than you’d ever expected him to. He’s always taken care of you, but it’s been upped—he’s uneasy whenever he doesn’t have an eye on you and doesn’t like being away from you for too long. He’s incredibly doting, and giving, and patient, and you love him so much it makes your heart hurt.

“Go,” you urge, knowing he’d happily blow off another meeting for you. “I just need to rest. Go do your job, mister.”

He kisses the back of your hand before begrudgingly stepping away.

“Fine,” he grumbles. “Love you.”

“Love you too.”

For a while, you flick through the programmes on the large tv attached to the wall of your bedroom, only paying partial attention as you’re between sleep and consciousness. However, when a cooking show comes on screen, you find yourself waking up. You look at the screen, your eyes widening as they fall upon the delicious spread of food. Suddenly, you feel an incredibly strong, inconvenient craving come on.

You groan as you reach out, looking for your phone. You’re distracted by the tv as you write out some simple messages to Tom.

You: hey can someone get me one of those waffles from that market in camden pls You: a really big one with the strawberries and the syrup on You: please xxxx You: oh and cinnamon. thanks

Tom: give me ten minutes

You smile as you put your phone back on the mattress, stretching your arms out above your head as you sigh happily. Tom’s got men on the ground all across the city, so you don’t feel as bad as you did when you’d begged him to go out at 3am to bring you KFC. He’d done it, because he loves you, but you’d still felt guilty. It eases your heart to know he’ll probably just relay the message to someone else and then continue with his meeting, unbothered.

Instead, you find the bedroom door opening nine minutes later, and in strolls Tom, waffle in hand, grinning like the Cheshire Cat.

“Here you go, my darling,” he announces. He passes you the plate and kisses your forehead before waltzing off to the side, his fingers going to his tie.

“Fuck,” you moan, taking the first bite of your food and feeling your tastebuds delight. “Thank you.” You look to Tom and frown as you see he’s stripping off. “Wait, what about your meeting?”

Tom quirks an eyebrow. “You need me,” he says, stating it as a fact.

You nod along, deciding not to tell him that you needed the waffle, not him, because now he’s walking towards you, shirtless and in a pair of grey sweats, and you realise...yeah. You’d quite like a cuddle.

“Definitely,” you agree. You finish eating and Tom takes the plate, putting it on the side. He offers you a glass of water, then waits for you to finish that too before approaching the bed. “Ah, fuck. I need to pee.”

Tom briefly rolls his eyes, well used to this by now. “You always need to pee,” he teases. He pulls back the duvet and offers you both hands, which you gratefully accept.

“Yeah, well, try carrying around a baby, and maybe then you’d understand.”

Tom kisses your temple before you walk away. You’re quick through the bathroom, and you find yourself yawning as you dry your hands on one of the soft cotton towels. When you walk back into the bedroom, you discover it considerably tidier than you’d left it. Tom’s apparently passed over it like some sort of cleaning fairy, and he’s moved away all the scattered clothes and dress pillows. He’s sitting in bed waiting for you, the big light switched off, and he’s apparently just as prepared as you to have a nap despite it only being late afternoon.

“You’re very cute,” you say as you get back into bed. You snuggle down and Tom curls into your side, throwing one of his legs over yours as he presses his face into your neck. His hand goes to your bump as he kisses up your neck, very softly.

“What d’you mean?” He mumbles, voice quiet and soft. His fingers draw light circles over your belly, and you hum contentedly. Already, you’re feeling sleepier, just from the darkness in the room and the warmth coming off Tom’s figure.

“So attentive,” you say. “So sweet. So...soft.”

Tom grumbles into your neck. “‘M not soft.”

“Yes, you are.” You snuggle further into the duvet and smile into the darkness. “Ditching your meetings for me, bringing me whatever I want, cuddling me all the time… You’re a big softie, Tom. It’s cute.”

“Hmph.” Tom rubs your stomach gently. “I just want to make sure that you’re okay. Happy mum, happy baby.” You roll your eyes as he repeats the buzz phrase which has characterised your pregnancy. Happy mum, happy baby has been his mantra. You aren’t complaining. It’s worked out quite well for you.

“Yeah, but when the baby’s here, you’ll be ditching me for her.”

“Never, darling, never.” Tom chuckles as he kisses your jaw. “You’ll just need to share the spotlight. Can you do that?”

You bring a hand up to play with his hair. “I think I’ll be able to figure something out,” you reply. You’re quiet for a few moments, your eyelids falling shut as you let yourself relax. You’re very content, with Tom’s soft curls against your neck and his soft breathing fanning out across your skin. You feel full of love. “‘M sleepy.”

“Go to sleep,” he whispers. Tom turns his head to kiss your shoulder. “I’m here.”

“Okay,” you mumble, yawning. One of your hands goes to rest on your stomach, and Tom repositions his palm so it’s resting on top of yours.

“Sweet dreams,” he coos. “Sleep well.”

[mizunetzu]

Mr Mizunetzu’s secret Santa! Kita x reader - cold, cold observations (he loves me so it’s okay)

( @luv-hqs hi HAHA!! I was ur secret Santa >:) Funny story, I accidentally deleted the ask you gave me that had your preferences, but I vaguely remember there being a “Kita” and “angst” LMAO SO I ROLLED WITH THAT TELL ME IF I GOT IT WRONG BUT HEY YALL GET UR FIRST INARIZAKI FIC FROM ME )

⚠️warnings - ANGST? Unintentionally cold Kita baby doesn’t mean it I swear, sad ending

Pronouns - male, he/him

you can find part two here!

——————

“I like you, Kita-kun! Please, please go out with me!”

(Y/n) thrusted himself into a sharp, 90 degree bow, squeezing his eyes shut and balling his hands up into fists, planted firmly against his sides. Kita looked down at him.

“Sure.”

“Wh-“ (Y/n’s) head tossed up, his (h/c)-colored hair whipping back as he did so. “Really?”

Kita nodded. “I like you too, so I don’t see why you’re so surprised. People date people who they like, right?”

A wide smile stretched across (Y/n’s) face, illuminating it just enough to catch the pretty cherry blossom petals fluttering around him. His face shone like the sun, even daring to put the big ball of light to shame. He stood back up, his smile still noticeably big and happy.

“Please take care of me then, Kita-kun.” (Y/n) stepped forward and sheepishly brushed his fingers against Kita’s shoulder.

‘He loves me...’

——

Please take care of me.

It was a simple request. A simple phrase. “Please take care of me,” not in a babied, maternal way, but in the way that (Y/n) hoped him and Kita would be as a lovey-dovey couple you see in romance manga. The kind you see and can’t help but coo at.

“You need to stop flailing your arms around. You’re weakening your spike, (L/n)-kun.”

Kita called out so suddenly, (Y/n) mid-spike, making him sputter and land awkwardly. The ball hit the net with a thud, before landing on the same side of the court it came from. Kita looked at (Y/n) skeptically. It was his normal, straight-laced face, but everyone in the gym could sense the intimidating aura Kita was projecting.

No one wanted to be on the receiving end of that aura, to be cornered by Kita’s judgementful gaze. Yet here (Y/n) was. How unlucky.

“I’m...I’ll do it better next time, Shicchan.”

“Shicchan?”

“W-well...you don’t mind it when I call you that in private, Sh-“

“This isn’t private, (L/n)-kun. We’re in practice.” Kita bore holes into (Y/n’s) skull, who was desperately trying to look anywhere but Kita. Aran scratched the back of his neck.

“Uh-it’s just a nickname dude, plus, you guys are dating, right? So it’s natural that (L/n)-san would call you that.”

“That doesn’t distract from the fact you need to get your spikes over the net, (L/n)-kun. Not on it.” Kita paid Aran no mind, and continued staring down (Y/n) with a heavy, emotionless gaze.

“S-sorry...” (Y/n) shrank back into himself. Everyone who was staring immediately scrambled to look away once Kita looked back. Kita wordlessly walked away.

“Damn, I’m sorry man.” Aran’s eyebrows contorted into a look of pity, while (Y/n) awkwardly chuckled.

“S’fine. He was...probably just having a bad day s’all.” (Y/n) brushed off Kita’s cold judgment faster than Aran expected. He smiled.

“He loves me, so it’s okay.”

——

Today is a good day. (Y/n) hummed as he strolled down the path to practice. In fact, today is a great day. (Y/n) didn’t know why, but it was a great day.

(Y/n) strut into the gym, carrying bag of steamed pork buns he’d bought at the convenience store a few minutes ago. The gyms inhabitants stopped one by one, their focuses shifting from their individual practice to (Y/n) and his bag of food.

Hungry players, especially Atsumu and Osamu, flocked towards (Y/n) with hungry stomachs or a sense of curiousness. Kita caught the ball he was tossing in the air and looked at (Y/n) with blank eyes.

“You’re disrupting practice.” Kita said, not moving an inch from where he was standing. (Y/n’s) smile faltered a bit.

“W-well I just felt like buying the team some food-I feel like we’ve been working hard and we deserve it-“

“You came to practice late to buy food that you could’ve bought after practice?” Kita’s question felt more like a jab at (Y/n’s) chest. Everyone crowding around (Y/n) froze up, a sudden icy-cold shooting down their spines. Kita’s unwanted, scary aura was back.

“I...”

“Why would you do that?” Kita cocked his head to the side. “You’re late to practice-you don’t even have your gym clothes on-and since you have food it’s either we eat it now and can’t practice-because we might get stomachaches-or we eat it after and it gets cold and you waste your money.”

The once bright smile caused by (Y/n’s) ‘good day’ finally cracked. He looked at Kita with embarrassment, trying to play it off with a less cheery, forced smile. He opened his mouth to say something, but his throat closed up and no words came out.

Kita sighed. “Well I don’t want you to waste your money. I guess we’re eating (L/n)-sans steamed buns now.” He turned to the coach. “Is it ok if we take a break from practice? (L/n)-kun brought steamed buns. If we’re lucky we can practice at the end of our practice time once we digest.”

Coach nodded awkwardly. Kita walked up to (Y/n), whose bag of food was being shared and distributed amongst Inarizaki. (Y/n) pressed his lips into a fine line.

“I’m...I’m sorry Shinsuke-kun.” (Y/n’s) happy day was weathered down and left with empty sadness in seconds. He felt so proud and courteous for buying his team a treat purely out of impulse, but now he just felt guilty for disturbing practice.

“It’s alright, I guess.” Kita’s words held no value, as he pecked (Y/n) on the cheek lovelessly. (Y/n) shot him a weak smile, cupping the cheek whom he had kissed gently.

‘He...loves me...so it’s okay.’

‘So it’s okay...’

——

It was such a small gesture. The small act of Kita drawing his hand away when (Y/n) reached out to hold it, him bringing his hand up to lock away in his pocket as they walked through the schools hallways. It was such a small, infinitesimal detail that (Y/n) should’ve brushed off with ease. Y’know, maybe his hand was just cold.

But he couldn’t.

He hesitantly slowed to a stop. “Shin...Kita-kun.”

Kita looked back, a blank look laced with the tiniest amount of confusion weaved inside. “Did something happen?”

“Do you love me?”

Kita dropped his voice down to a whisper. “Of course I do.” It came out his mouth no more than an automated machine would, as he dragged (Y/n) gently to the side of the hallway. “Be careful next time. We’re lucky not much people were around. Someone could’ve heard you.”

‘Heard you?’ (Y/n) furrowed his eyebrows. He wasn’t angry. No, no he wasn’t angry. He just felt like someone hollowed out his insides.

“Is it so bad if people heard me? That I love you and wanna know if you love me too?”

“Yes.”

Kita had no filter. He announced it like saying ‘The sky is blue’, stating it like a fact he expected (Y/n) to know. And he wasn’t even adorning a stern or intentionally harsh face while he said it. Though, it was the way Kita said it so bluntly and emotionlessly that made it hurt the most.

But now that (Y/n) thought about it, when was the last time Kita smiled because of him?

Has he ever even seen him smile?

Has he ever seen, touched, or heard any sort of proof of his love?

Of Kita Shinsuke’s love?

(Y/n) downcast his face. “I just wanted to hold your hand.”

“You know how people feel about gay relationships. Not even my baa-san knows yet. So what if one of our classmates see-“

“-but the whole team knows-!”

“-and I trust the team. They won’t say a word until we’re sure and ready to tell everyone.”

(Y/n) stayed silent after that. Then, he opened his mouth.

“...Then do you trust me?”

It came out like a cracked, hoarse whisper. Kita, for once, look stunned. His eyebrows raised slightly and his eyes widened, even if it were just a little bit.

“Of course I do.”

Another automated response.

(Y/n) nodded, letting Kita lead them back to the middle of the hallway to walk to practice. (Y/n) gave up on trying to hold Kita’s cold, cold hands, and instead thought solemnly to himself.

‘He...he loves...’

He paused. He looked over at Kita, who was looking straight ahead. He looked back down to his walking feet.

‘Does he love me?’

——

Kita looked around the gym. He saw Atsumu and Osamu yelling at each other about something he couldn’t quite make out, Suna fishing out his phone from his pocket, and Ginjima chatting and peppering a volleyball back and forth with Aran.

But no (Y/n).

Kita tapped Suna on the shoulder, who was zooming in and taking pictures of Osamu’s disgusted face. He hummed in acknowledgement, now trying to zoom in on Atsumu on the ground.

“Have you seen (L/n)-kun today?”

“In class, yeah. At practice, no.” Suna murmured. Kita nodded and thanked him for the info. That meant he was at school today, at least.

Excusing himself from practice, Kita stepped out of the gym. I mean, why wouldn’t he be worried about the whereabouts of his boyfriend? Especially with how odd he’s been acting, Kita couldn’t help but worry just a smidge.

After what seemed like hours of pointless searching, he eventually found a mop of (h/c)-hair sitting on a stone bench under the same cherry tree (Y/n) had confessed to him to. Kita had checked the place on impulse, not actually expecting to see someone there, but it was better than nothing. Kita walked up to the boy sitting with his back faced to him, and without even saying anything, (Y/n) gave a small hum.

“Mm.” Was all he said. His back was slouched, and he was still in his school uniform. His school bag laid pathetically strewn on the grass next to him, and if Kita could see his expression, it was probably unreadable.

“Practice is going on.”

“Mhm.”

“You should be at practice.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Why aren’t you going to practice?”

“Is everything about practice with you?” (Y/n) lifted his head. His voice was still calm, but it raised in volume ever so slightly. “Practice, practice, practice. What about how I feel?”

Kita opened his mouth to say something, but for the first time, nothing came out. He didn’t know what to do. Was he mad at him? Did he do something wrong?

“I...” (Y/n) choked back his words, letting out a sigh and slumping down on the stone bench once more. He flicked a fallen cherry blossom petal off his shoulder. “Never mind. I don’t feel like going to practice, tell coach th-“

“Is there something wrong?”

Kita question had come out of nowhere. (Y/n) bunched his hands into fists. “...now you notice?” He turned around, red in the face and tears falling freely in unison with the bittersweet cherry blossoms falling mockingly around them. “Tell me, Kita,”

“Do you love me?”

Kita furrowed his eyebrows. “...of course I-“

“”of course I do.” That’s what you always say..! Say something else, dammit! Say you love me!”

(Y/n) abruptly rose from his seat, stepping over the bench and grabbing Kita by the collar. He pulled him closer to his face, shaking him by the shirt with knuckles that almost turned white.

“M-Make me believe that you love me!” (Y/n’s) tears cascaded down his face, flinging in the air as he whipped his head down so suddenly. Small, choked sobs ripped through (Y/n), yet all Kita could do was stare. Stare with his blank, emotionless face. (Y/n) took his silence as his answer. The silence was so loud.

“...I think we should break up.” Kita’s eyes widened.

“Why?”

(Y/n’s) iron clad grip on Kita’s shirt loosened, he stepped back, face feeling raw after crying. “I don’t want to be with someone who can’t tell me they love me. Once you can tell me you love me, and mean it, I’m all ears.”

“(L/n)-kun-“

(Y/n) reached over the bench and pulled his school bag up, dusting off the stupid pink petals that littered around his bag. He slung it over his shoulder numbly, and shot a curt “See you tomorrow.” At Kita.

All Kita could do was stare. With the emotionless face he now wished held more vibrancy.

“...I love you, (Y/n).”

It came out foreign on his lips. It was the first time he’d said those words, hadn’t it? I love you. A cracked whisper, and even then it sounded like it held no value. Kita took one last linger at the now-empty schoolyard, and walked back to practice.

——

When Kita came back to the gym, everyone was sitting in a semi-circle surrounding a whiteboard. Various lineups and positions were drawn hastily on the board, and everyone looked towards the gym door which Kita had come in through. He silently dragged his feet over to the circle of players, and took a seat behind Aran.

“Where were you?” Aran whispered. Kita ignored him, the lump in his throat stinging and bloating his vocal cords up to the point he couldn’t talk.

Every moment, every interaction, every cold, cold observation Kita ever had with (Y/n) flashed before his eyes. The coach’s voice and the squeak of the whiteboard marker melded together as memories of how kind (Y/n) had been played like a dvd in his mind. He’s been so warm. So, so fucking warm. Every piece of warmth (Y/n) shared with him, he took for granted when he told himself he wouldn’t. He wasn’t normally like that. But he’s been so, so cold.

Silent, hot tears blurred Kita’s vision. They fell slowly, and dripped onto the hardwood floor with no meaning whatsoever. He was so cold. He clasped his hands together, shaking, and trying to hush his ragged breathing and sniffles. He felt so cold. Eventually, the coach stopped talking, and one by one players started turning around, asking if Kita was ok.

But he wasn’t. He was so cold.

——————

Kokoro is brokoro in Mr Mizunetzu’s Christmas event

[regretti-spaghett1]

Somewhere in the journalist's notes it was mentioned that Wambus and Triffany's relationship is struggling because of Wambus' stubbornness and poor communication and I had to think about the state of their marriage at the start of the game.

I'd like to believe that Triffany didn't leave town because of Wambus and was gonna leave Snaxburg for the desert regardless of wether he accepted her request or not. The reason I'm saying this is because of Triffany even mentioning, that she wanted Wambus to accompany her on her expedition during her interview as well as her mentioning that she initially came to Snaktooth to look for her grandmother.

I'm assuming that Triffany wasn't going to force Wambus to join her when she asked him to go with her, but given how important it was for her to find Bronica or at least find out what happened to her, I guess she expected Wambus to accept her request. This might be far fetched, but I also guess that Triffany felt like her pursuit of answers was something Wambus should have taken part in since, as her husband, he's very close to her.

We don't know the exact details of their argument/dispute, but I could see this being one of the reasons as to why Triffany was so upset with Wambus. Perhaps she felt like he failed or refused to see how important it was for her to explore the island. Again, she probably wasn't going to force him to join her, but I suppose she still wanted to convince him to leave town with her, but gave up eventually and left on her own after repeatedly trying to change his mind.

I'm prone to assume that Wambus misunderstood Triffany leaving Snaxburg for the desert as her leaving because she was mad at him, resulting in him feeling guilty about the situation. I think if that were to be the case, then this would make it sort of a moment where the miscommunication part shines through. I'd also like to mention that we don't exactly know what happened the last time they saw each other before Triffany's departure, but it there's the possibility that the poor communication between the two definitely played its part in making their relationship a mess.

My conclusion: The writing in Bugsnax is immaculate, and I have no idea how to explain stuff-

There's also another thing I wanted to bring up, but I don’t know where to put it. Anyway though, I am bold enough to assume that the whole debacle between Wambus and Triffany sorta bleeds into how Wambus interacts with the other Grumpuses, mainly because, again, I believe he feels a strong sense of guilt for upsetting Triffany. From what the player has witnessed it's pretty apparent that Wambus does not really want to talk about his relationship with Triffany, especially at the start of the game. This becomes pretty evident when Wambus gets annoyed about being asked about his wife and during the first Welcome-Back-Party, when both Gramble and Beffica make remarks about his relationship with Triffany, resulting in him becoming furious and storming off.

It really just shows how much depth there is to the way the Grumpuses were written. You can interpret so much in the smallest interactions, draw so many lines between the characters. That's all, really-

[itsthemoofacewriting]

It’s heaven in your arms

Well, this is just a clusterfuck of emotions. Let me lead you down the path of grief and mourning only for it to end with a bed sharing trope.

I have no idea if there are even people that like the original trio together romantically, but I was really vibing, so hopefully I can convince some of my regular readers to take the plunge.

If any of my ZoNami readers are here, I’m doing the requests you all sent in – I swear!

I’m not sure what to expect from posting this, so I’ll say this once pre-emptively: if this isn’t your cup of tea, you know where the door is, please leave quietly.  

Summary: It may have been two years since Ace’s death but, for Luffy, sometimes it still felt like just yesterday. Or, sometimes, something beautiful can blossom from a place of hurt. Rating: T

You can also find this on AO3 and FFN.

Nami awoke, eyes burning from lack of sleep and mouth dry. It was still dark outside, and she grumbled to herself at waking up so early, but it was no use. She wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep until she had a glass of water. She swung her feet off the bed, clumsily trying to find her slippers before getting up. It was warm outside, so she didn’t bother with anything other than her pyjama top and shorts.

As annoying as it was to be awake so early, it was peaceful. It was a quick shuffle across the deck and into the kitchen, where she filled her glass hastily, already thinking about getting back into bed.

That last thing she expected when leaving the kitchen was the sight of Luffy sitting on the railing, facing the ocean with his feet kicking over the edge. Reckless as always it seemed.

“If you fell, no one would be around to save you,” She lectured.

His shoulders hunched; she’d surprised him it seemed, but he didn’t react as she’d expected. There was no carefree laughter or beaming grin as he told her not to be a worry wart. Instead, she received a muffled, “You’re up.”

Without looking at his face she didn’t know how to take that but his whole attitude was off, and it had alarm bells going off in her head. The comfort of her bed a distant memory now as she walked over to the railing to join him and settled her glass of water beside herself.

The words on the tip of her tongue vanished into the night air when she finally caught sight of his face. His eyes were red and puffy, his face pale despite his constant tan and drawn. It was an expression she’d never seen on his face. He looked defeated.

He looked tired.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

He shook his head, just as she’d expected him too and uttered out a quiet, “No.”

“That’s okay, but I’m going to sit here,” she told him. He could sit in silence if that was what he wanted, but she wouldn’t leave him, that wasn’t an option.

She took his hand in hers because whilst he may not want to speak, he’d always been a tactile person and she couldn’t just sit here and not do anything when there were tears still running down his face.

They sat in silence, only the sound of the waves hitting the ship could be heard with their thighs pressed snuggly against the others and his hand clasped in hers, a thumb absently roaming over the skin of his wrist. His tears had resided for the time being, only the stray one falling every now.

She felt like she was sitting with a deer, trying not to spook it because it felt like any wrong move would have him scampering away.

Well, that was until he pried his hand from hers and she was going to say something until his head feel heavily against her shoulder and an arm wrapped around her body. That was all she needed to let herself relax, no longer worried about scaring him away as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders to pull him closer.

It was another long moment of them sitting like that until he whispered in her shoulder, “It hurts.”

“What hurts?”

He was silent but the tears were back as she felt them soaking into her pyjama top.

“I had a bad dream.”

“Yeah? What about?” She encouraged softly.

“About him.” His voice cracked as he said it and his shoulders shook.

There was only one him she knew of.

“It played in a loop, and I couldn’t do anything.”

Although she was being fed the information in dribs and drabs, it wasn’t hard to piece it together. She waited for him to continue but the long pause told her he wasn’t going to.

She thought about what she’d want in that moment, if their roles were reversed, what she’d want from the other person sat with her, so she settled on, “I only met him briefly, tell me more about him. What was it like growing up with him?”

He was quiet and for a moment she didn’t think he was going to respond, that maybe that wasn’t what he wanted at all.

“He hated me when we were younger,” he said wetly, fighting through tears to talk. “I caused trouble, couldn’t fight and cried a lot. He called me cry baby all the time.”

“He didn’t when we met him in Alabasta though.” She remembered how he’d looked at Luffy, eyes full of adoration and voice warm as he asked the crew to look after Luffy for him.

He huffed out a laugh at her words, such a stark contrast to his normal boisterous laugh.

He told her everything. How Ace had gone from despising him to accepting him as a brother along with his other brother, Sabo, how they’d caused trouble together and had the best times together. How he’d made Luffy’s childhood a happy one.

It made her ache. Because as he talked, selfishly she thought about her own sister. How devasted she’d be to lose her, someone that felt like her other half since before she could remember, knew her better than anyone else, who she could talk to about anything. It was hard to explain a sibling relationship to someone without one, there was a different feeling to, you felt it in your core.

Mostly, she thought about how hollow she’d feel.

It felt like an unspoken rule that siblings were for life. You knew that parents were older and that they’d pass at some point in your life, but not your sibling. It felt like they were meant to be with you for life, that you’d grow old together and have each other’s backs no matter what to the very end.

She supposed that was part of the grief.

Although she didn’t know the ins and outs, even now Luffy was edging around his dream and what’d happened back then, she knew the key details - how Ace had jumped in front of him to save him. How Ace had died before his eyes. Even if she suspected there was more to that moment than what she knew, it was traumatic enough.

Another tangled chain to unwrap from the knotted ball of necklaces that was grief.

Ultimately, she didn’t need to know what the dream was about or what’d happened back then, because the picture she had in her mind was vivid enough and she knew how he felt. Watching someone slip away before your eyes, helpless as you watched them go and wishing you’d done something different.

Her heart bled for him as he spoke, words blurring into his tears, she could feel her own eyes prickling as sadness overflowed.

Hands clumsily wiped at her face and belatedly she realised Luffy had stopped talking. “I didn’t mean to make you cry,” he said.

Without thinking, she wiped his face in return. “It’s okay, I’m glad I get to share this with you.”

She cupped his face and she meant it as a soothing gesture, yet it seemed to have the opposite effect. Watching his face crumple before her eyes was so much worse than how she’d imagined it when his face had been buried in her shoulder. He was so expressive all the time that she shouldn’t really be surprised, his lips quivered and those big eyes scrunched as he tried to hold back his tears.

“I know I still have so much, and I should focus on that…”

“But that doesn’t make that little part feel any better?”

“Yeah.”

“I know. It’s not going to either.” He nodded glumly at her words, staying silent and she suspected it was because he couldn’t form words. “You love him. That’s not going to disappear no matter what happens.”

She continued because she needed to say it, to let him know this was okay before she the moment passed, and he locked this all away to deal with another night. “You’re allowed to mourn him, you’re allowed to feel sad without feeling guilty, but when it overwhelms you, tell one of us, okay?” She paused, thinking over her words, before adding, “And even when it doesn’t overwhelm you and you just want company, come find us.”

“Okay.” He sounded choked up, more so than before.

She brought him back into a firm hug, running her hands up and down his back, letting her words sink in and giving him a chance to speak or cry more if he wanted to.

His next words told her they were done for the time being.

“I don’t want to go back to sleep,” he said.

She didn’t have to ask why. She still woke up sometimes in the middle of the night, tears in her eyes as she relived all different versions of Bell-mère’s death, each worse than the last. She knew that he feared having to relive his worst nightmare over again or catching even a whisp of his brother behind closed eyelids, taunting him over the fact that that would be the only way he’d ever be able to see him again.

“I don’t either,” she lied smoothly, “We could raid the fridge-” Sanji would understand- “or I could show you a new card trick or we could go draw on Zoro’s face. He’s probably up in the crow’s nest and he sleeps like a log.”

Luffy grinned, it didn’t reach his eyes like it normally did but that was okay, it was an improvement on the solemn expression from before. “Usopp just bought new markers!”

They both turned at the sound of heavy footsteps and the very person they’d been planning to mess with was stood only a few steps away.

“Why do you two look guilty?” He looked suspiciously at them both.

Neither of them answered, but she saw the moment Zoro noticed Luffy’s face and took in his red, puffy eyes and worn expression. His demeanour changed instantly, he looked serious, and he didn’t say anything more as he joined them on the railing, pressing up to Luffy’s vacant side and taking his other free hand into his- he could probably feel that it was wet from Luffy’s tears.

The ocean lapped silently against the ship and whatever plans her and Luffy had made seemed to be put on hold as he stayed sat on the railing, but that was fine with her, she was happy to sit there with him in silent support.

“It should’ve been me,” Luffy finally spoke, voice sure but only a whisper.

Those were heavy words, she imagined how often that thought circled around in his head and how hard it must have been to finally say it out loud.

“That’s stupid,” Zoro said.

“Zoro,” she hissed. For his blunt words and because Luffy looked on the verge of tears, it made her heart crumble all over again.

“Ace loved you a lot and he didn’t do it for you to think that; he wouldn’t want that. It was his choice and he made it and he’d do it a hundred times over.”

He made a good point, she knew that, but a tough love speech felt too soon.

“Zoro’s not stupid all the time,” Luffy defended weakly, smile wobbly.

Maybe not.

“Oi.”

Nami shook her head, smiling slightly at their antics. “Unfortunately, I have to agree with you. Shall we agree it’s a 10% smart and 90% stupid?”

Zoro tried to look miffed, although it was betrayed by the smirk tugging at his lips. He knew what she was doing, trying to lighten Luffy’s spirits, so he let it slide.

“Well, we can’t draw on Zoro’s face now-” Zoro glowered at her- “but if you want an extra challenge, we could get Usopp or Sanji.” They were light sleepers; she knew he’d be up for the challenge.

Luffy smiled, nodding tiredly and stifled a yawn that had her and Zoro sharing a quick look between them.

“You can sleep with me if you want,” Zoro offered nonchalantly and Luffy perked up at that.

She should leave them to get on with it. They’d made their arrangements already and in the back of her mind, she knew she should, but Luffy’d told her so much, it felt callous to just palm him off. And maybe, somewhere deep down she didn’t like the thought of being left out. Maybe.

The words were out before she’d properly thought them through.

“You can both sleep in my bed.”

“Like a sleepover!” Luffy said and his eyes brightened, a shimmer of what normally resided there returning.

“It’s a one-time offer and no one tells Sanji!” Nami warned even though Luffy looked considerably lighter and Zoro was smirking at her. She didn’t doubt Zoro would store that away to use against Sanji later, but she’d deal with that then. And if he decided to blab, she’d then have the perfect opportunity to charge him, and he wouldn’t be able to say a thing.

The walk to her room was quiet, only the sounds of their shoes thumping against the deck with every step, getting louder and louder as they got closer to her room. She wondered if she’d regret this. What if she’d made it awkward? She should’ve just let Zoro and Luffy bunk together.

Opening the door felt heavy, like something awful would be waiting for her on the other side. Instead, there was just a dark, muted room to greet her and the awkwardness she felt doubled to the point she wondered if the other two felt it too. She wasn’t sure if she was thankful or not that Robin was still asleep, facing away from them.

All those thoughts were put to rest as Zoro and Luffy moved past her, seemingly more than comfortable with this arrangement than her. Zoro shucked off his boots and settled against the far side of the bed so his back faced the wall and Luffy kicked off his flip flops, his hat already sat safely on her bedside unit.

“Absolutely not,” Nami whispered fiercely, hands on hips and they both peered up at her quizzically. “I’m not sleeping on the edge only to wake up on the floor. Zoro, swap.”

“What, so I can wake up on the floor instead?”

“You can sleep anywhere!”

Luffy had snickered at their bickering, watching them go back and forth until he seemingly grew bored of that and stretched his arm out to wrap around her waist. As his arm snapped back, he dragged her with it, she collided with the both of them in her bed. Like a true rubber man, Luffy looked unbothered although she was fairly sure she’d kicked him, but Zoro wheezed behind her as she’d winded him with her elbow.

“That hurt!” Nami moaned.

“Think before you do that!” Zoro grouchily whispered.

“There we go, now we’re all cosy.” He ignored them both, nestling down into the bed as his arm reached across Nami to rest over onto Zoro.

“Luffy!” She squawked, rosy faced. “Move over! You have all that space!”

This was not what she’d had in mind when she’d invited them… into her bed. Although she didn’t have a massive bed, she’d thought they’d at least try to keep their distance, she hadn’t expected this. Luffy was so close she could feel his breath on her face and his hair brushed against her forehead, no doubt mingling in with her own strands. She could feel Zoro spooned behind her, his own arm outstretched across them both and she was only now just considering how appropriate her pyjama shorts were. Which was ridiculous, it was only those two.  

All of this didn’t feel right, they were there for Luffy, he should be the one in the middle not her. He should be the one squashed between them, safe and warm and feeling supported, not her. Yet one look at his face put all of that to rest. You could still tell he’d been crying; the puffiness would take a few hours to go down, but he looked relaxed, the tormented and weight in his expression gone.

He looked content.

And that was enough right now for her brain to shut off, thoughts pushed to the back for another day, and have her burying into the warmth from the two bodies next to her with the knowledge that everything would be okay for now.

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This was meant to be a one-shot, but it’s now a two parter at no one’s request. I’m writing/editing the second chapter right now; it’s on its way.  

I used to ship LuNami hard when I was younger, but I think I’ve lost my ability to write them romantically nowadays… unless you throw in Zoro and then it’s back on apparently.

I write and edit all my pieces by myself, so if there’s any errors, please excuse them.

Thanks for reading.