#but like… I feel strong- and they know I’m strong. I’m made of grit and willfulness and audacity and they reconcile it!

[serickswrites]

Lonely Place of Longing XV.V (The missing chapter)

Master list link here (includes chapter links, summary, and character bios)

A/N: I took this chapter out because it made references to things I hadn't talked about in this story (but will in the prequel series!). And because I felt like it would have made the chapter after this one (and in the story's current iteration Chapter 16) less climactic--though it probably would have been pretty climactic with the cliff hanger in hindsight. It's a short one, so please enjoy. The final chapter will be out on its usual post day!

Warnings: physical violence, blood, knife, stabbing, wounds, referenced death, character death, mcd, unconsciousness, referenced heat injury

“You are sadly still so predictable,” Owen drawled as he grabbed for another knife from his bandolier of blades. He had slipped back into their native tongue. He had, Dylan realized, always spoken to Dylan in their mother tongue. Only when it was absolutely necessary did he use the language native to Patricanus.

And you haven’t changed either. “Does it matter? We both know how this ends, Owen. Give it up.” I will end you. I will rip you limb from limb. I will destroy you. You did this. You gave me no choice.

“Yes, it ends with me winning and imbuing your sweet paramour. Do you think she will be as monstrous as me? Or perhaps as monstrous as you?” Owen chuckled as he dodged another attack from Dylan.

Dylan and Owen continued to trade blows. Both weapons fought with their powers, Owen combining his attacks with his physical weapons. Their chests heaved as they panted. Neither had had a fight that required this much strength in nearly a decade. “Isn’t this lovely,” Owen said as he tossed a bent knife to the side before drawing another, “two of the most powerful beings in the world set to destroy one another.” He glanced over his shoulder at Halle. “Perhaps she will join our ranks soon.”

Hold on, sweetheart. I won’t let him hurt you. “Owen,” Dylan said as he raised his fist once more, “it doesn’t have to be this way. If you agree to stop, if you agree to come willingly—“

“You’ll what, kill me quickly? I’m not going to do that.” Owen released a large pulse of energy at Dylan. It missed Dylan by a wide margin, blasting a large hole in the wall behind him. Shouts of pain and alarm rang out.

Dylan gritted his teeth. His side pinched. He could feel blood leaking through his shirt and making his side slick. He didn’t dare check the wound. It doesn’t matter. It is minor. Minor pain. I have had worse. I need to stop him. I need to stop him from destroying everything. He knew he was burning through his vast reserve of energy. But most of all, Dylan hated the loss of innocent human life. “Do you care so little for your minions you would kill them to hurt me?”

Owen smirked. “Yes, wouldn’t you?” Owen sent another energy blast at the wall, vaporizing the scattering men. “That’s what they are for. They are weak. We are strong. We can destroy everything.”

“You cannot do this, Owen. You cannot destroy everything. Think of what we could rebuild. Think of all the lives we could save.” Please. Please don’t make me do this. I…I don’t want to. Dylan realized with a pang of guilt. As much as he hated what Owen had done, as much as he hated the destruction and waste of life, he didn’t hate Owen. And killing Owen would kill a part of him. Please, we were friends once. We can still be friends. Please, don’t make me kill you.

“I can. And I will. Because I can. And because I want to.” Owen lunged towards Dylan again, his knife flashing bright. Dylan easily dodged Owen’s attack once more, but realized his mistake when Owen charged towards Halle.

“No!” Dylan surged forward, realizing too late, this was exactly what Owen wanted. Owen stabbed the knife up and into Dylan’s gut, burying it to the hilt. Dylan tried to breathe through the pain as Owen rode his body to the ground.

“Like I said, Dylan,” Owen ripped the knife up and through Dylan’s body until he hit bone. Dylan gasped through the pain, “so predictable.”

“Owen,” Dylan hissed as he felt Owen rip the knife from his gut. “Owen, please,” he said. “Owen, ahh—“ Dylan cried out as Owen shoved his hand into the wound. His world whited out with pain as Owen wormed his fingers into the wound on his side.

“There, that’s it. Yes, you are where I always planned for you to be, Dylan.” Owen’s face was inches from Dylan’s. “I have been waiting for this moment.”

“Owen, I’m sorry,” Dylan whispered. I cannot let you do this. I cannot let you win. If you win, the world burns. If you win, she dies. I cannot let that happen.

Owen froze. “What are you sorry for? Wounding me?” Owen wriggled his fingers deeper into the wound. Dylan cried out with pain. “What’s the best way and only surefire way to kill a weapon?”

Dylan gritted his teeth. I don’t want to do this. But you are leaving me no choice. Please, Owen. “Owen—“

“That’s right, you destroy the heart. A head shot will probably kill them, but not always. But the heart? The heart is the only way. I’m going to rip your heart apart, Dylan. And then I’m going to wake up your love so she can see your corpse as I turn her.” Owen twisted his arm, shoving it further into Dylan’s body. “I’ll reach your heart either through your belly or through your side. It doesn’t matter. I will have your heart. I will win.”

Destroy their heart. This is the only way. I’m sorry, Owen. I’m sorry this is what it came to. You left me no choice. “Killing me won’t bring them, any of them back. Killing me won’t bring her back.”

Owen froze. Dylan continued. “Killing me won’t change what happened. Killing me won’t bring—“

“You don’t get to say her name. You don’t get to say anything about any of them. And yes, killing you won’t bring them back. But it will make me happier.”

Dylan closed his eyes tight against the sting of tears. I am sorry. I am so sorry. I tried. You left me no other way. I would have found another way. You left me no choice, Owen. Dylan raised his shaking left hand to touch Owen’s chest as Owen tried to dig further and further, searching for Dylan’s heart. He didn’t even notice when Dylan touched his shredded shirt. “I am sorry,” Dylan whispered as he unleashed his power. “I am truly sorry, Owen,” he said to the red mist that filled the air.

You’re free now. Free from pain. Free from all of this. Free from suffering. I am sorry. Fare well, my friend. May the next life treat you better.

Dylan lay in the growing pool of blood for a moment longer, slowly trying to take stock of his injuries. He had worse pain. But he knew it had to be bad. It didn’t matter. He had to get to Halle. Sweetheart. I’m coming. Hold on. I love you. I love you. I love you.

With a stifled howl of pain, Dylan rolled onto his uninjured side and slowly tried to stand up. He pressed his hand to his gut as he rose on shaking legs, gasping with pain as every muscle protested the movement. He couldn’t stop. He had to keep going. He took two tentative steps on shaking legs. Good enough. I can get us out of here. I’m coming, sweetheart. Hold on.

Halle lay where she had fallen after her head struck the wall. She hadn’t moved during his entire fight with Owen. Please, be ok. You have to be ok. Dylan stumbled over to Halle, collapsing to his knees, relieved to see she was alive.

“Sweetheart, I’ve got you,” Dylan said as he braced himself. Carefully Dylan lifted her, stumbling slightly as he tried to get his balance. Though Halle was petite, he struggled to carry her. He knew his wounds were much worse than he initially thought as he struggled to balance. “I’ll get us to the team. They’ll look after you. Just hold on.”

Halle hung limply in his arms, her limbs swaying with his staggering. The room spun around him. No. Just a bit farther. Just a bit longer. Dylan refused to give up, refused to let his body give out. She needs help. I have to get her to help. Hold on, sweetheart. I have you. I love you. I love you. I love you.

Dylan only managed to get a few steps before his legs gave out completely. He didn't have the energy to get back up, to carry her and go forward. “Oh,” he sighed. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Halle. I can’t. You’re going to have to walk out of here. I….I can’t carry you. “Sweetheart, I’m sorry. I…Please wake up soon. Please be ok.”

He held Halle tightly in his arms. He rubbed gentle circles on her back. Dark spots flecked his vision. He shook his head. Come on, sweetheart. You have to be ok. I am alive because you are alive.You have to be alive. I love you. I love you. I love you.

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[anoddopal]

I need to talk about my Nasty Rotten Freaks™️ [☠️☠️☠️] or I’ll die—

[spidey-webz]

jealous logan — headcanons

pairing: logan howlett x f!reader

warnings: possessive logan, teasing, brief smut (including fingering, dirty talk), feelings of insecurity on logan’s side, angst, jealous behaviour obviously, 18+ ONLY

a/n: the logan brainrot is real. i can’t stop thinking about him so here are some headcanons while i’m writing a bigger one shot!

MASTERLIST | ASK

logan had always been the jealous type even though he would never admit it

seeing you with another guy always felt like trouble to him

of course, he accepted that you had other male friends and that was FINE, but going out with your boyfriend usually entailed having to make sure that he didn’t start a fight with someone

some people just wanted to cross a few lines and if they did so in logan’s presence, they’d be in for some trouble

violence wasn’t always the solution but a firm tug on another guy’s jacket usually made most of them run for the hills already

logan was a big, intimidating guy and the wolverine wasn’t exactly unknown

if you’re sitting at different ends of the table or at different tables altogether, he’s always going to keep an eye on you

because you’re his and he really can’t stand to see those slimy guys try their luck with you

strong arms would wrap around your waist as he’d casually join the conversation while another guy tried to talk to you

he does try to keep things civil if he can, even if he’s burning up inside

getting home after an encounter like this usually means that he’s just more desperate for you

strong hands would grab your waist, teeth nibbling at your ear as the deep rumble of his voice courses through your body

“i don’t like to see you talking to other guys. i don’t like to share.”

his finger would sometimes slip into your pants, brushing over your sensitive nub, teasing you

oh, he loves to be a tease

“only i know how to make you feel good”

his thick fingers would push past your entrance, curling in just the right way to find the perfect spot inside you

logan was always good at this but showing you that no one could ever satisfy you like he did gave him just the right bit of motivation to make it even better for you

“look how wet you are,” he’d whisper into your ear, often taking the time to suck his fingers clean after touching you

while he loved to remind you of who you belonged to, he also couldn’t shake the little bit of insecurity in him

especially if it was a younger man talking to you or someone who wasn’t mutant

he’d never be able to have a normal life and he’d grow much older than you, probably

what if you weren’t satisfied with this anymore one day?

what if something else just sounded better, more secure?

you’d always try to reassure him that you’re happy with him, but the feeling kept nagging at him every time he got jealous and had a bad day

because how could he live without you?

oh, he’d get so clingy when he’s jealous

when you’re alone in your shared home, he’d pull you into a tighter hug than usual before sleep

your head is buried in his hairy chest, his large hand moving up and down your back

“i don’t wanna lose you. shit, i hate to see you with other guys,” he’d say between gritted teeth, his eyes staring holes into the wall

when you look up at him, you meet his eyes and they’re filled with worry

“i don’t like the way other men look at you…” he mumbles

“then it’s good that i only want one specific man in my life,” you whisper in response, lips finding his in a slow kiss

[classyrbf]

please please please write one where everything toji does just turns reader on so much that she can’t let go of him and he literally begs and whimpers for her to give him a break and she keeps saying “just one more”? (established relationship ofc)

SWEET SPOT! — TOJI FUSHIGURO

SYNOPSIS...after you husband comes home from the gym, you find yourself getting all hot and bothered, pouncing on him the second the opportunity arrived

INFO...toji x fem!reader, reader is extremely needy for toji, creampies, overstim, riding, squirting, messy, not proofread

OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated

thanks for the request anon!

“Hah—fuck nngh! Baby, slow…down!” Toji says through gritted teeth as you bounce up and down on his cock for what seemed like hours now. Your hips slamming down on his as you milked his cock, swallowing him whole and taking him for everything he’s worth. He doesn’t know what’s gotten into you, ever since he walked through the door you’ve been acting like a bitch in heat. His hands gripped at your ass, eyes rolling back as he felt his third orgasm approaching. He doesn’t even know how he’s still hard, but goddamn do you make it hard for him to stop.

“Gonna cum again, Toji? Want inside of me again,” you pant, eyes glazed over with lust as you stare at your husband. His jaw was slack, moans and whimpers escaping his throat while his hips twitched beneathing you. “You make me crazy, baby. I love it.” You messily kiss his swollen lips, feeling his hot cum coat your insides, your back arching into him more as you continue to fuck him.

“Baby…baby…nngh! Please, fuck! It’s too sensitive. I need—ah!” Your pussy grips around him like a vice, the mess made between you two makes lewd sounds echo through your bedroom, something out of a porn movie. “I need a break, baby, please,” he begs, desperation written all over his flushed face. His hands are roaming all over you body, a reaction from the overwhelming feeling of you wet cunt pleasuring him.

“I…I can’t stop—hah! Need…need you so bad. Just wanna keep fucking you and fucking you and—mmm fuck yes!” You squealed once you feel his bulbous tip hit your sweet spot. “Got me all worked up, baby.” You press your sweaty bodies together, holding him against you tightly as you focus on rolling your hips just the way you like. You pull at the hairs on the nape of his neck, mewling each time he grazes over your g-spot, feeling his dick throb inside of you.

“Shit! Oh my god!” His eyes screw shut, chest heaving up and down as he ascends to an ethereal plane of pleasure, a place he’s never been before. “Gonna…fucking…c-cum—nngh fuck!” He’s cumming for a fourth time now, brain turned to mush while you sit there and take it, only turned on even more than before. Hard nipples press against his broad chest, a lazy smile on your face and you caress his cheek. Pools of cum leak from your pussy and down to his balls, creating a sticky mess on the sheets that neither of you cared about at the moment.

“I just wanna keep fucking you—need to keep fucking you,” you whisper in his ear, licking a stripe down his neck, a slightly salty taste lingering on your tongue from the sweat. You pepper kisses along his sharp jawline, gentle compared to your movement below. “Hah, Toji, baby, I’m gonna cum!” Your brows furrow as little whimpers form into pants and moans. “Fuck! Fuck!” You fuck him harder out of pure greed feeling the pressure in your lower abdomen when you finally lift your hips and let go. Streams of clear liquid shoot from your dripping cunt, soaking your thighs and Toji’s as well, his cum mixing in with your juices and dripping out of your hole.

You’re holding onto him for dear life, body quivering and growing weak as you continue to squirt, sheets soaked. “Oh my god!” You suck in a breath, falling into his arms as you try and come down from an orgasm that strong, shaky breaths leaving your lips. You stare at him through thick lashes, sloppily kissing his lips while his hands grope your ass, pulling you closer on his lap. You still felt needy, horny, rocking your hips back and forth to find any sort of friction. You moan into the miss before pulling back from your husband. “I just wanna sit on your face now,” you say without thought.

You push him back on the bed, his head falling against the plush pillows. You climb over him, each one of your legs on either side of his head and it takes no more than a second for you to properly sit on his face. A blissful sigh escapes you, throwing your head back in ecstasy when you feel his tongue dip between your folds. “Always make me feel so good,” you moan. One thing Toji knows, is he’s gonna be here for a long while.

[prentisslvr]

NOT STRONG ENOUGH

summary: you got injured whilst on the job and spencer isn’t to pleased (post!maeve)

pairings: grumpy!spencer reid x sunshine!reader

genre: hurt/comfort?

warnings: mentions of maeve’s death, and canon complicit violence

authors note: i saw someone in the spencer reid tag ask about a fic like this and it gave me inspiration to write my own!!

you hadn’t noticed the tight grip spencer had on the steering wheel when he drove you and him home, nor did you notice his face; if looks could kill, the car that was driving extra slow in front of the two of you would’ve spontaneously combusted.

however you did notice, the slam of his door as he got out the car, his clenched jaw and avoidant gaze as he helped you out, with your broken leg and crutches.

you were used to spencer’s grumpiness, he’d had such a pessimistic view on life, and you didn’t know if it was the optimist in you, or the young naivety, but you had always thought you could fix him.

you had grown to fall in love with spencer in all his grumpiness.

you enjoyed getting to kiss away his angry pout and massage his scalp as he grumbled about how awful his day was.

you enjoyed getting to listen to his rants and just smile and kiss him and take all his problems away, being his source of comfort, like he was yours.

you always loved how even though he was so grumpy, he managed to reserve some sweetness for you, it made you feel so loved, so seen.

spencer on the other hand couldn’t believe he managed to have you as his girlfriend, after maeve, he wasn’t sure he was made for love, it wasn’t meant for him.

but you were meant for him.

he was immediately taken aback by you, the new intern at the bau, so bright and happy, he’d wondered what someone like you was doing at a job like this. someone so young, so happy, so optimistic.

he remembered thinking about how this job would tear you in half, like it did him.

he vowed not to let that happen.

but as he watched, helplessly as you tackled the unsub to the ground, and getting into a literal tussle, he was filled with so much anger, at the unsub, but mainly at himself.

he knew when he was new, he wanted to do his best to stop the bad guys, even if it meant putting himself in danger, he knew the sings of a reckless intern.

why didn’t he stop it.

now you were half black and blue, and walking around the house, well, less walking, more being carried around by spencer, and he really just wanted to scream.

“that was so stupid, you know that.”

you blink, the food on your for you were about to shovel into your mouth forgotten. “i’m sorry?” you say confused, dropping the fork, it clattered loudly against the plate.

“that stunt you pulled.” he gritted his teeth. “i mean, what were you thinking, that you were gonna save the day?” spencer asked, tilting his head in such a way that made you feel taunted.

almost, belittled.

“i was thinking about that girl.” you say, brows furrowing, “and how nobody was doing anything, we were just standing there waiting, negotiating, i saw an opportunity and i took it, the girl is safe now and he’s going to be locked up for the rest of his life.”

“you’re not a hero.” spencer scoffed. “you got lucky, what would you have done if you died out there?”

“nothing, because i’d be dead.” you say, as nice and as kind as you were, you had a quick mouth and it drove spencer insane. “what’s up with you, why are you so upset over this.”

“upset!” he slammed his fist against the table standing up, causing you to flinch, and some cutlery to fall on the floor, your heart thumped in your chest, you weren’t scared of spencer, you had faith he would never hurt you, but he’d never been thing angry with you before.

“i am not upset.” he spits out. “i am enraged at how after all this.. after, me, you could still go out there and risk your life like that! after all i’ve done to protect you!”

“protect me..” you stare at him through a glare standing up yourself. “i chose this job, spence, i chose this profession, i knew what came with it, and i do not need to be protected!”

spencer’s chest heaved as he stared at you, in silence.

“i-” you huff. “i knew the risks that came with the job spencer, and out in that field, i knew what i was risking, but it’s my life spencer. i’m perfectly aware of what i am doing.”

spencer closed his eyes and heaved out a long breath, pinching his nose. “you don’t get to make reckless decisions like that!” he screams clenching his fists. “not when it comes to your life.” he whispered softly, slowly sitting back in seat, as if he’d folded completely.

“i don’t know what i’d do if i lost you..” he says, licking his lips. “when.. when you think about losing someone you love, you can’t imagine it, what it would be like, but i can, because i have, i have lost someone, multiple people.” he says.

“in that moment, when i watched you tackle.. tackle that guy.” he squeezes his eyes shut, tears threatening to spill, as you watch him intensely. “i knew what it would be like spend the rest of my life without you, and i don’t think i’m strong enough to come to terms with that.”

spencer’s admission makes your chest hurt, it never occurred to you what something like taking a risk could do to him. spencer already had lost a lot, and you didn’t want to become a reason he loses another.

you step forward nudging his chin so his eyes were looking up into yours, his cheeks were wet with tears, and for the first time you didn’t see a grumpy man, a pessimistic man, you saw a man who’d had his heart broken far too often.

you gently stroke his cheek. “hey, i’m not going anywhere anytime soon, i’m an intern, today was just an off day.” i raise my brows. “i doubt i will be allowed in the field for a long time.”

he smiled, his eyes still red from tears. “i know you love your job, and i won’t try and stop you from doing it, but please, be careful, if not for you, then for me.”

“i’d do anything for you.” you say, kissing him on the lips. “i’ll be careful for you.”

[oizysian]

31 // Surrender // What You Want

Summary: Wanda is very good at a lot of things

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Warnings: wrestling, humping, pussy eating, dirty talk

Word count: 700

Kinktober masterlist

”Give up!” She demanded and I shook my head, wriggling in her grasp.

“No way!” I grunted, trying to free myself from her iron grip. “I don’t give up that easily!”

She tightened her legs around me and I groaned from the pressure, my insides feeling as if they were in a vice.

I attempted to roll us over, putting me on top, but she fought back, pinning me down to the floor and holding me there. She wasn’t allowed to use her magic so this was just her pure strength - which was insane. She had to be somewhat strong to be an avenger, but holy shit, I was gonna have to give in soon.

“I heard that.” She said through gritted teeth and I let out a yelp.

“Stop listening to my thoughts!”

“You’re practically screaming inside your head, I can’t help it.”

“I’m screaming outside of my head too!”

“Give up then!”

“I’ll never surrender!”

She rolled her eyes at me and continued to hold me in place underneath her, despite my wriggling and thrashing, all I’d been able to do was turn myself on. Wanda being so dominant with me was insanely hot and her holding me down was doing more to me than I thought it would.

Shit, I had to quiet my thoughts or she’d hear me. I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself down and she squeezed again, making me lose my breath.

“Why don’t you verbalize those thoughts?”

“Shuddup!” I grunted, her leg slipping between mine and pressing against my core.

Shit, shit, shit, I was in deep now. She smirked, pressing herself down against me and I let a small moan slip out. I couldn’t help it! I was already turned on and now she was making it worse.

“Surrender.” She whispered into my ear, her breath hot. “Surrender and I’ll fuck you.”

As tempting as it was, I couldn’t let her win. I continued to struggle, even if it was futile. I could almost hear her laughing as I wriggled underneath her like a fish out of water.

“You surrender and I’ll fuck you!”

She laughed and shook her head, pressing her knee against my heat, rubbing ever so slightly against my clit.

“You’re not winning this. I’m stronger than you.” She kissed my neck and nipped it lightly. “And you love it.”

“I do.” I groaned, trying to ignore her. “But I can’t just let you win.”

“You’re not letting me win. I’m beating you.”

I growled under my breath at her words, knowing she was right. If I surrendered, I really was the winner, wasn’t I? I was the one that was gonna get the orgasms, I was the one that was gonna receive all the praise and pleasure.

“Okay, okay, you win!” I cried, letting go of her and allowing her to keep me pinned down, her knee still moving against me.

“That’s my good girl.” She cooed softly, using her magic now to keep me still.

She slid down my body and pressed kisses along my belly as she made her way towards the apex of my thighs. She tugged down my shorts and panties and dipped her head down, sucking my clit into her eager mouth.

“Wanda!” I cried, struggling against her magic.

She hummed against me and I nearly fainted at the feeling and the sound, so incredibly turned on. She lapped at me like she was starving and my hips rose to meet her mouth.

I wouldn’t last much longer and I knew that she knew it too. She just continued to devour me and my mind went blank from the pleasure. I could hear myself moaning, whining, but I could only feel her mouth against me. All of my other senses went dead as she ate me out.

“W-Wanda, I’m gonna -”

I let out a whimper and came into her mouth. She made sure not to let a drop go to waste, licking and sucking every inch of me. My body went limp and I panted softly as I came down from my high.

“See what happens when you give in to me?” She said smugly, kissing my mound. “We both get what we want.”

[princessbrunette]

“you still mad at me?” while balls deep with rafe 😵‍💫😵‍💫.

GODDDD U ATE W THIS PROMPT 😩 like my jaw dropped

rafe was always doing this.

he’d make empty promises, plans even — talk to you all sweet with a warm hand on your back whispering suggestion of “that was the last time i’m getting involved with all that crazy shit, baby. i swear. s’just me you n’me now, you hear me?” and you being the fool, believed him.

until of course you’re catching him pulling back up to the drive on his motorcycle, yanking his helmet off with that ill-tempered expression of his that just tells you enough that somethings gone on, you know, the one where his teeth are grit, lips pressed together like they’d been sewn shut. that’s not even where it ends, because often times barry is close behind, pulling up alone side so they can debrief loudly in the living room, stinking up the place with pot. even if you were mad, you know the rules. no coming down the stairs when barry’s over.

you almost had started to enjoy the feeling of sulking when rafe would eventually skulk up the stairs after barry had left, shoulders heavy and ready to grovel. naturally, you put up quite the fight — and what might surprise you is that rafe let’s you mouth off, even if he knows you don’t understand the importance of his situation and likely never will.

“again and again rafe! how many times am i gonna have to put up with you just running off to god knows where when you promise me you’re not doing all that anymore! you were supposed to be with me today!” you nearly stomp your foot, that last sentence coming out childishly like an abandoned middle child. he nods, jaw ticking as he stares at the ground scratching his forehead, waiting for his lashing to end. once the tears start to roll, that’s his queue. like clockwork.

“come on, hey. y’know i love you, sweetheart. i’m sorry, okay?” he rushes to your side, sliding right up next to you on the bed and thumbing at the first batch of tears on your cheek, his hand so large it cups your skull at the same time. you want to preen into his touch, so elated with any affection after a day of missing him, worrying about him — but you don’t, because you’re still mad. be strong, you tell yourself.

you’re weak. you hate yourself.

not even 10 minutes of your sobbing and complaining later and he’s got your legs over his broad shoulders, balls slapping lewdly against you whilst he all but pumps you. his hands that are on your waist, using you as leverage reposition themselves so that he’s holding himself up over you more. a large hand wraps gently around your ankle as he does so, making sure your leg doesn’t slide off the strong slopes of his shoulder.

squeals and more tears are being punched out of you with each thrust, but he can see you physically relaxing, he can see you reaching out to him with a wobbling bottom lip so that you can hold onto his arms like you always do when he fucks you. it’s neutralising you.

“fuck, that’s m’girl.” he pants, mouth gaping at the way your pussy flutters around him. you’re so reactive to his voice he can’t believe it, never having met anyone who is so enamoured with everything he does. shit, maybe he should treat you better after all. he keeps talking, because he thinks you deserve to cum a whole bunch tonight, after putting up with all his shit. having a girlfriends made him gone all soft.

“you still mad at me?” he tilts his head, and you’re not sure if it’s intended to be mean or mocking, because it certainly doesn’t come out that way — his voice kind and eyes kinder, rolling the well kept muscles in his core to grind his cock against that spongey spot deep within. you don’t answer his question, clinging onto that last crumb of dignity and restraint. you pout through your whimpers, turning your head a little. he takes that opportunity to burrow down into your neck, his open mouth panting against your tepid skin as he speaks lowly again. “dont be mad at me baby. i’m only tryna look after my girl, you want that right?”

“mhm…” you reply before you permit yourself.

he slides his arms under you now, letting your legs down from his shoulders to hook around his waist instead. he’s holding your body close to his as he grinds, his pelvis smushed against your clit, making your thighs tremble and suddenly you’re so god damn close it hurts and you’ll do anything to cum.

“so good to me, baby.” he sighs and you cry out, arching your body harder to his. “i know. let it out. i’m so bad to you sweetheart s’the least i can do.” he mutters self pityingly before letting out a groan, cock pulsing inside you. you remember thinking about how right he was about that when you fell over the edge into a white hot orgasm.

[the-fiction-witch]

Bracken Bunny

Media - House Of The Dragon Character - Davos Blackwood Couple - Davos X Reader Reader - (OC) Lady Y/n Bracken Rating - Smut (Non Con) Word Count - 1503

Warnings - Blood, Non Consent, Kidnapping

I held my breath, keeping my lungs strong and stiff. My knees were deep in the thick, slimy mud but I kept my legs still so I didn’t sink or slide any more. My fingers trembled slightly as I held the string taut. I watched my line of sight as the rabbit nibbled at the grass and slowly popped up its head. So I released the string sending the arrow across the grass and striking the rabbit.

I hurried over, taking my arrow back and putting the rabbit into my bag with the few rabbits, birds and mushrooms I had gathered while hunting.

It wasn’t much, I hadn’t found much of anything all day. The rainy and damp days are likely sending most game away.

I slowly walked the border between Bracken and Blackwood land, looking for any game on our side. Often gritting my teeth if anything was on theirs, I wanted to take it but I didn’t want to give any excuse for a fight.

I stopped short as I saw a deer chewing on a tree, I quickly grabbed an arrow and used the border stone to rest my foot to keep me from sliding on the mud. I held my breath as I drew my bow and quickly let it go, but the deer jumped away and I missed.

“Shit.” I sighed,

I’m not letting it go, I hurried over the border and followed the deer as close as I could to see it but not spook it.

The deer once again stopped in the open Blackwood field to eat some grass, I made sure it couldn’t see me as I drew another arrow making sure to line it up perfectly holding my breath and keeping my arm straight.

Just as I was about to release the arrow, I felt the cold sting of a blade against my bare skin, the blade pressed against my neck, and the hot breath on my ear. “Drop the bow,”

“Or what?” I whispered,

“or drown in your own blood.” He warns, “Drop it. Now.”

I grit my teeth and put my bow down on the grass,

“Good, now… tell me, what is a little bracken babe doing on blackwood land?”

“Tea Party,” I spat back,

“Humm, you weren’t planning on striking down that deer were you darling? A Blackwood Deer on Blackwood Land.”

“It’s not a Blackwood Deer, it was on Bracken land when I-”

“And now it’s on Blackwood land making it a Blackwood Deer.” He interrupted, “So? Did you plan to shoot?”

“... Yes.”

He chuckled, “I could have your head for that,” he paused, “But… you have a rather pretty head,”

I gasped, “Let me go. Let me go I’ll go home.”

“Awww… no, it’s a little late for that my little Bracken,” He chuckled smugly, “You are going to stay right here with me,” He growled his tongue slipped from his lips to lick the lobe of my ear, his other hand came around me holding my hip sliding over my dresses damp fabric, he got handsy sliding across me with little regard like I was some whore from a blackwood brothel.

I squirmed but he just held me tighter pressing the blade closer to my skin so if I moved more than even a breath it would cut my skin, “Let me go,”

“Now why would I do that? I think you and I could enjoy ourselves out here.” He purred, as his hand getting braver and less considerate brushing his hand across almost all of me, “quiet the pretty little thing aren’t you?”

“Let me go!” I snapped,

“No, no, you’re going to let me have my fun. Or I’ll cut your head off. You’re choice.” He demanded, “Yes?”

I didn’t answer merely huffed knowing I had little choice in this matter,

“Good,” He praised as his hand cupped my breast through my dress,

I gritted my teeth to stop my violet insults at him, trying to think of a way of getting out of this,

“Hum… how did the brackens ever get a pretty little thing like you,” He growled as he took the blade from my neck but before I could even move he pressed his body completely against my back thrusting his hips into mine and forcing me to feel the stiff shaft below his trousers, his other hand came to cup my other breast, his hands squeezing and fondling me. “Usually all Bracken girls are wide horse-faced little shits who look like they got pummeled with a sword… but you,” He smirked, “You’re beautiful, and ever so pleasing to touch little bracken.” He praised, “Let's get a better look at you,”

“Don’t. You. Dare.” I warned,

“Ohh I would, I would dare darling,” He smiled in my ear as he grabbed the fabric of my dress and gave it a firm tug forcing the top of my dress down and exposing my breasts to the air,

I screamed and tried to squirm away but he held me too tight,

“Ohh yeah, a very pretty little bracken,” He growled cupping my bare breasts in his hands and squeezing them hard, “Maybe I should take you back to Raventree Hall with me,” He purred gliding his tongue across my cheek,

I didn’t answer, too busy trying to get out of his perverted grip,

“Would you like that? Should I drag my little Bracken home with me kicking and screaming? Throw her on my bed and fuck her cute little cunt?” He smirked one hand moving from my breast to force its way between my legs grabbing me through my dress,

“My father-”

“Like I give a shit about your father. Or any other Bracken, All I want right now is this.” He smirked squeezing me tighter, “And I am very tempted to steal it,”

“Let me go. Let me go right now, or I will scream so loud every man in Stone Hedge will come and-”

“And what?”

“And drag you to Stonehedge on the back of their horses, and hang you from the tower.”

He chuckled, “You can’t really blame me, look at you. On Blackwood land, with muddy knees, a soaking dress, with your tits out. How am I meant to resist you?” He began to twist on my nipple as it hardened from the cold air,

I screamed from the pain, but he didn’t care. His one hand squeezing my breast his fingers twisting and tugging on my nipple, his other hand between my legs stroking so hard his fingers moved between my folds through my dress, his hips rubbing against my back forcing me to feel his hard shaft,

“Fuck… I might not be able to wait, I might just need to bend you over in this field,” He growled,

But quickly while he was so distracted I grabbed my blade from my belt and turned quickly sliding on the mud and grass and slicing his cheek as I did,

“Ahh! You little fucker!” He grabbed my wrist and for the first time we made eye contact, His smile only grew as he realized who I was,

And I gulped, eyes wide and becoming breathless as I now knew… which blackwood he was. Davos Blackwood, Lord Blackwood’s violet, hot-headed son, and I instantly realized just how fucked I was.

“My, my, my… Looks like I don’t just have some pretty little Bracken girl in my arms,” He smirked squeezing my wrist until I was forced to drop my blade, “But I have the pretty little Lady Y/n Bracken in my arms,” He growled licking his lips, “Ohh yeah, you’re coming to Raventree with me little lady,” He smirked as he forced me back around and used my belt to restain my hands behind my back,

“No, I am not,” I demanded my voice shaky,

“Yes, you are, How ever could I pass up such an opportunity? To keep little lady Bracken as my prisoner. They’re gonna have to be very compliant to get their little lady back.” He smirked, “And in that time I… will get to make very good use of you,” He growled biting my neck, “And I’ll be sure you pay you back for that little cat scratch,”

“I swear you try and take me I will scream bloody murder the whole way to Raventree,”

“Will you now?” He chuckled, “Not if I do this,” He grabbed my ribbon choker necklace forcing it off me and before I could even protest he forced it between my lips and tied it behind my head gagging me and silencing me.

I screamed but it only came out as a muffled mess, I tried to squirm but the belt held me too tight, I had no choice, no option but to do as he demanded.

He forced my dress back up to hide my breasts and wrapped his cloak around me pulling the hood up so anyone we encountered wouldn’t know who I was, “Come on now my little Bracken Bunny, Let’s get you someplace comfy.” he smirked taking my blade and my bow as he forced me to walk with him. 

[siren-141]

part two to this angsty beauty - enjoy 🖤

Your head pounded when you woke up, sunlight filtering through the curtains in your shared bedroom. Well, in your bedroom now. Who knows if you’d even be able to keep the apartment – would he want to stay here or would you? He said he’d be here today to pick up his things, so maybe he was letting you keep it. Maybe you’d surprise him with an empty apartment when he came to collect his things, and you’d be long gone.

Gone, that’s where you wished you could go. What did that even mean..?

It didn’t matter.

You got up and cleaned your face, throwing on some workout clothes and stepping out into the cold air. It was winter in New York City, and everyone else was bundled up with long coats and scarves, boots and their fuzzy socks peeking up at the top. You walked the five miles to the Avengers tower in some leggings, running shoes, and a light hoodie, not even bothering to put the hood on.

You slipped into the meeting just as it was starting, taking a spot next to Natasha this time instead of your usual one. There was an empty chair next to your ex-fiancé, everyone taking notice of it but not mentioning it more than a quiet glance amongst each other. Bucky listened with intent as if nothing had happened – you stared at the small scratch in the glass table until your eyes went fuzzy.

“I know we just finished one mission up – seriously, great job, you two-” he gestured to you and Bucky. Clearly not reading the room, he continued. “Truly a dream team, you two work great together.”

You could hear Bucky huff out a sarcastic laugh and you just rolled your eyes. How he had the audacity to sit there and act like he hadn’t just shattered your entire world last night, you would never know. It’s always been fucking hard to be with you. His harsh voice rang in your ears, flashbacks from last night hitting you like a train.

“Tony, could you..?” Natasha motioned for Tony to continue with his agenda and stop lingering.

“Right.” His voice was drowned out by the blood rushing through your ears, and you could barely hear what he was saying anymore, starting to zone out again.

Natasha nudged you, and everything came back into focus.

“Solo mission, Canada. Rumlow’s back.” She whispered it over to you as indiscreetly as possible, the details that Tony had just gone over, but without all of his theatrics.

You looked over at her. Rumlow? You mouthed. She nodded her head grimly.

“I can do it. I have the most experience dealing with him-” Bucky piped up finally, acting as some sort of martyr.

“I’ll go.”

All heads turn to you, finally having spoken up and looked up from the scratch on the table.

“Are you out of your mind?” Bucky’s words sliced through the silence. You locked eyes with him and there was nothing but fury and heartbreak in yours. You could see where his hands were in fists below the table, balled up and trying to keep his composure.

You looked at Tony. “I’ll go. Rumlow doesn’t know me. Even if he had files on each of us, you know mine is sealed. I’ve only been on covert missions that didn’t deal with the public-”

“Tony, you can’t let her go on this mission!” Bucky tried to speak over you. You could tell he was getting mad.

“-and because of that, my identity has never been known. To him, I’m just a random girl. Send me. I’ll get it done.”

It was silent in the room, and you could cut the tension with a knife. But Tony had made up his mind.

“Those are all…excellent points. Meet me in 20 in my office and we’ll go over it. You leave tomorrow.”

You closed your eyes, a feeling of relief washing over you. The meeting ended and you got up to leave, managing to round the corner before you felt a grip on your arm, stopping you dead in your tracks.

“You can’t go on that mission alone, he will kill you,” Bucky said through his gritted teeth. You tried to keep walking but his grasp on your arm was too strong. You knew you could never overpower him. “I’m going instead.”

“You know what you can fucking do-” you turned around in his arms and managed to shake out of his hold. By this time, the people who were left after the meeting were all silent and watching. You barely took note of them as you felt your vision cloud with rage.

“Hey, guys-” Steve tried to step in, tapping Bucky on the shoulder. It was no use. Your eyes brimmed with tears of rage.

“No, you go back to wherever the fuck you went last night and leave me ALONE!” you yelled at him, whipping around and starting to storm off. Before you got too far though, you turned back around and threw your engagement ring at his feet and let it clatter around the tile floors for everyone to see. “Sorry if I’m too hard for you to deal with right now, but I’m going on that mission alone and I hope that when I’m done, I can fucking stay up there away from you.”

He watched as you walked down the hallway and turned into Tony’s office, the door shutting behind you. He stood there in silence, the audience behind him in utter shock. They all began to dissipate, going in their own directions, until it was just him left.

I'll probably turn this into a multi-part fic, what do y'all think? part 3

[dayasusays]

helloooo i hope you're fine:) can we have headcanons or one shot of husband bruce being jealous and overprotective with reader? smut pls 😮‍💨

HAWWO :3 SORRY FOR DELAY i’m completely fine tyyy!!! hope u’re too 💋

oh. OH… overprotective bruce… 🫣

i enjoyed writing this!!! really!!!

warnings ! — SMUT, headcanons, public sex (the restroom at his gala), fem!reader, husband!bruce wayne

summary ? — you made him jealous.

౿ . . ` ౨ৎ ENJOY 🦇

⌗ — husband!bruce wayne, who needs to keep you in his sights during his gala because otherwise he'll worry.

⌗ — husband!bruce wayne, who only gets distracted for a couple minutes, but you already find someone to talk to.

⌗ — husband!bruce wayne, who grits his teeth when he sees some guy put his arm around your waist and pull you closer. and you don't even resist; you don't push him away, but you keep laughing and occasionally throwing non-ambiguous glances at bruce. oh, he gets it.

⌗ — husband!bruce wayne, who appears completely out of the blue behind your back, pulling you to him by the waist and whispering in your ear: “you have a new friend? how nice,” and leaves a brief kiss on your lobe while his head rests on your shoulder.

⌗ — husband!bruce wayne, who knows you have your privacy, but right now he's unceremoniously invading it. and you love it.

⌗ — husband!bruce wayne, who slowly pulls you towards the restroom and never for a second removes his hand from your waist.

⌗ — husband!bruce wayne, who leaves a ton of wet kisses on your neck, pressing his strong chest against your back. he can't resist little nibbles because you seem to have completely forgotten that you're married. married to a jealous man who will always find a way to show you that you belong to him.

⌗ — husband!bruce wayne, who keeps whispering in your ear: “have you forgotten your place, love? right next to me so everyone can see that you're my wife,” his palms move down to the slit of your dress and stroke the inside of your thigh, “look at you. you're so fucking beautiful that everyone wants you to be with them,” god, you've always been amazed at how good he is at speaking.

⌗ — husband!bruce wayne, who always takes the time to fuck you whenever you decide to tease him. honey, you're playing with fire because he can fuck you anywhere, whether it's the batcave, the car, the restroom at a restaurant or his gala.

⌗ — husband!bruce wayne, who doesn't waste any time when he enters you in one smooth thrust. you rest your hands on the sink, biting your lower lip and trying not to let out a loud moan, but he fills you so fucking well. “feels good, doesn't it? your husband's big cock inside,” bruce mutters, picking up the pace right away. he doesn't have time to mess around with you, my god, he has to go on stage in ten minutes to give a speech.

⌗ — husband!bruce wayne, holding you down while he fucks you. i mean, just look at him; it would be weird if he didn't. he'll never let you fall, holding you tight in his arms.

⌗ — husband!bruce wayne, who takes exactly five minutes to bring you to orgasm. he knows the exact angle at which he hits your g spot with perfect force with each thrust, he knows what to say to make you clench around his cock even harder, he knows which places to kiss and bite to make you even more sensitive. your husband is a goddamn detective, and you both love and hate that fact.

⌗ — husband!bruce wayne, who gives you a couple more thrusts, muttering angrily “he touched you so shamelessly and you did nothing,” his rough thrusts are almost torture because of your sensitivity after orgasm, “you won't get one more step away from me, princess, no one can touch you like that.”

⌗ — husband!bruce wayne, who always comes after you, biting your shoulder.

⌗ — husband!bruce wayne, who tidies you up in seconds by fixing your hair, dress and underwear; doesn't bother to clean you because “consider it a punishment, sweetheart. back home i'll be sure to do something about it.”

⌗ — husband!bruce wayne, who smiles slightly at your grumbling about how uncomfortable you'll be because the feel of his semen on the fabric of your underwear, while exciting, is still uncomfortable.

⌗ — husband!bruce wayne, who will leave a brief kiss on your forehead and remind you that you're the one who made him jealous.

“you do it every damn time.”

“and you still fall for it.”

“little brat… love you,” bruce pulls you closer, his fingers gripping your waist a little harder as you pull him in and kiss him.

⌗ — husband!bruce wayne, who spends the rest of the evening admiring the bites on your uncovered neck and shoulders. damn, he did it and he's so proud of himself. ୨♡୧

🦇 abt me | m.list

[bits-and-babs]

Im so sorry I didn’t see this till after request were closed but so idk if you gon see this but, f!reader had her nipples pierced? I’m sorry but I feel like price would be obsessed with readers piercings like if she had a tongue piercing too? Manz would go crazy. Smut? Dw if not <33

✦ 𝐒𝐔𝐁𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐆𝐄 ✦

– KINKTOBER DAY 6: NIPPLE PIERCINGS

cds!john price x recruit!reader | smut, 18+ | 1.2k words

summary: three months into your sas training course, chief directional instructor captain john price drills you on cold-water-shock survival.

cw: f!reader, cold water shock, power imbalance (recruit x directing staff), secret relationship, breast/nipple play, p in v sex, cream pie.

⇽ KINKTOBER MLIST | DAY 7: INCUBUS ⇾

It wasn’t as though there hadn’t been sufficient warning, but three years of service in the British army was nowhere near enough to prepare your body for the brutal battering that SAS selection subjected it to. Your blisters had blisters, and your body pulsed with a bone-deep ache every time you managed to crawl into bed upon dismissal. 

You had been sufficiently warned… About everything except this. 

Freezing cold water drips from your nose as you hoist yourself out of the pool at the base of the waterfall. Cold-Water-Shock training was a standard part of SAS selection– the ability to control your own discomfort and maintain a level head whilst also teaching the fundamentals of surviving sub-zero. January weather meant temperature levels were unsurvivable past a handful of seconds, and you could feel why. 

The process was simple. Fully submerge yourself into the icy depths before raising to the surface and keeping your chin above water. Next step; breathe. Regain composure and steady your breathing to fight the effects of cold-shock. Recruitment Staff would then ask you a handful of simple questions to assess competency before heaving you out of the water. 

You’d passed, you felt, with flying colours. The savagery of the otherworldly Brecon Beacons had failed to shake your resolve, answering the questions with ease. Even now, drenched to the bone and involuntarily trembling, you maintained a strong eye contact with Chief Directional Instructor Price as he eyed you with a stern expression. 

It’s momentary— barely there. You’d have missed it had you blinked. Price’s thick eyelashes, made damp by the sleet that had been battering the group all morning, dipped below your face. Sapphire blue irises glint in the low light when they zero in on their target. You hadn’t worn a bra this morning given you’d been forced out of bed at the arse-crack of dawn and expected to be in the van within five minutes… They’d left you little to no choice. 

Regardless of this reasonable explanation, you suddenly begin to regret your decision to forgo the cover, Staff Price gazing at the way your grey t-shirt clings to your pebbled nipples and the exposed shape of the piercing balls either side of each mound. 

“That’ll be all, 16,” he says, that raspy grit to his voice warming you from the inside-out. That fever encroaches on the apples of your cheeks when you realise he’s yet to pull his eyes away. 

“… Yes Staff.”

✦✦✦

“You did that on purpose.”

John’s voice, husky and full, was surprisingly even considering how tight your pussy walls clenched around his thick, veiny cock. You wail quietly at the soft breath that dances across your assaulted skin, nipples so incredibly sensitive. Sucked and nibbled and licked, the tender skin screams when Price drags the flat of his tongue over your pierced nipple with a delighted hum. 

“N-No—“ you choke out, the overstimulation of your nipples sending another shockwave of bliss down your spine. You know you’re squeezing him, because John ruts up into your fluttering pussy with a far less composed groan. “I didn’t— I didn’t mean to!”

“You’re not foolin’ anyone, Love,” John murmurs, gently taking your pebbled nipple between his teeth and rolling it. 

You see stars— swirls of technicolour dancing behind your eyelids with how tightly you squeeze them shut against the cataclysmic pleasure that seeps between your thighs. When John jerks his hips up again, you can hear how wet you are. It’s sloppy, disgustingly soaked, and Price loves it. 

“Fuckin’— Hah-“ John moans against the supple flesh of your breast, wrapping his lips around it and sucking on the hypersensitised skin. This time, when you arch your back from the bed with a wail of his name, he begins a slow and leisurely pace with his hips. 

Burying your fingers into the short-crop of his hair, you brace against the ticking bomb of your orgasm as it approaches. Each long stroke of John’s hips makes another disgustingly wet sound, your cunt greedily sucking him in and creaming around his throbbing dick as he flicks his tongue back and forth across your abused nipple. His other palm, battle calloused and rough, squeezed the other breast, thumb equally torturing your second nipple. 

It comes in waves; cresting, crashing tsunamis rather than soft laps of the ocean on a beach. A prickling heat that singes away the Beacon’s icy cold from your toes and creeps up the inside of your thighs. Your heart slams against John’s lips, your hands pushing into the back of his head to keep him there while you chase what could only be described as liquidation. 

“Ohmygod—“ you slur, and it’s as though the edges of your vision blacken. In truth, you’re not sure what you call him as you come apart on his cock, sobbing out a hapless string of garbled noises that don’t sound anything like his name. Toes curling either side of his hips, you fail to brace against the overstimulation that rips violently through you. 

“Fucken’ ‘ell—“ he groans deeply, a guttural growl that seems to vibrate the atoms in the air around you. The deliberate, methodical thrusts of his hips suddenly pitch to a sloppy, desperate gallop. John’s hands grasp the bed sheets so tight you almost hear the threads strain against the pull. 

He cums, coating the inside of your cunt with a rumble of your name that sounds so foreign to your ears with the afterglow buzzing in your eardrums. John continues to fuck you through it, taking pleasure in the way you squirm and squeal and cry until his cum seeps between your legs, coating the inside of your thighs with his seed. 

Sharp, heaving breaths echo in his small quarters, and you’re almost certain that his fellow DS had definitely heard you this time. But when John places his damp forehead to yours, eyes closed as he relishes in the bliss of being so close to you for just a moment longer, you struggle to find it in yourself to worry. 

“You should wear a bra,” John mumbles, pressing a kiss to your lips— but missing in the haze of post-orgasm-bliss and settling for a peck on the corner of your mouth. 

“Why?” You muse, still a little breathless as he works his lips down your chin and over your jaw. The gruff, burly Chief of Directing Staff was so affectionate when the door was closed. You knew that this thing you had going on was more serious than a thing when you stopped being anxious about getting caught and being kicked off the course— instead stressing about John offering his tenderness to another recruit. “If this is how you react to seeing me with a wet shirt and no bra, I’ll dunk myself in that water every damn day.”

In a moment of sobriety, John pulls back to look you in the eye. His aquamarine irises hold a heavy seriousness that makes your breath stall for a moment, afraid you’d said something out of line. 

“Love, I completed that whole trainin’ session with a rock hard cock.” 

A beat. 

Just before peals of laughter burst from you. John rolls his eyes, turning onto his back on the mattress. Still, he’s unable to bite back the smile that pulls on his lips.

cod mwii/kinktober taglist:

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@mockerycrow @bubuslutty @cheezitwh0re @haunt3dh3art @levi-llama @thebiscuitsheep @maelstrom007 @alexxavicry @bug-sy-boy @glennrheesworld @kittenfrostt @luvfromkat @blingblong55 @whore4dilfs @wolfyland07 @doggydale @dog55teeth @cabreezer0117 @cathnoneofyourbusiness @marygraceee @thatchickwiththecamera @legend-o-zelda @whore-for-anime @i-love-ghost @cyberpr1m3 @mockerycrow @bubuslutty @lundenloves @cheezitwh0re @haunt3dh3art @babychoi03 @infectedkura @allekat1988 @whore-for-anime @soupbinsoup @passi0np1t @mockerycrow @cyberpr1m3 @i-love-ghost @allekat1988 @infectedkura @babychoi03 @freakquenci @maviee @yunggoblin @sleepystaarr @watyousayin @soupbinsoup @passi0np1t @damn-dean-blog @pheonyxmoon @magicalreviewphantom @limegreenbabx @johfaam0 @iaur @justsayk

@bloodmoon-bites @wiltedwonderland @doggydale @limegreenbabx @namelesshumanperson @ninahhh-brahh

[antimonyandthyme]

Wouldn't it be crazy...if carcar in the situational prompt list no. 60... one/both of them being hit with truth spell/serum

They’ve all been through it. Oscar isn’t special, or any more special than the nineteen other people who share a track with him. On the cusp of breaking into Formula 1, every one of them had someone who sat them down, acted all nice, like a friend they hadn’t seen in years, then pried them open to get a glimpse of anything rotten. Oscar’s just thankful it was Mark. Someone who Oscar knew cared for him, for real, and this way he could look past the interrogation and assign it some form of kindness. In true form, Mark had gone about it in the most awkward way possible, as only someone who hated doing the questioning as much as he hated doing the answering could, and that at least hadn’t made Oscar’s skin crawl.

Hey, uh, kid. Is there anything you think I should know? Uh, romantic, or otherwise?

Even then, he’d been defensive. His past life wasn’t for sale, newly minted F1 driver or not. The girl he dated for longer than he should have, the guy he kissed in maybe too public of a place. Even in the face of Mark’s sincerity, he’d been torn between honesty and mortification.

He doesn’t know why the memory’s popping up right now. It’s Vegas, and so many things happen in Vegas that outside of the race, not a single other thing bears significance anymore. Oscar doesn’t question it when she gestures him over, or when she points to a deck of cards, laid out on a low table like a trap. Something in the air here shakes out his sensibilities, loosens his tongue.

“Will you tell me who will win?” He pauses, backtracks. She might not even know who he is. There are no cameras around. “I could place a bet if you help me.”

“You aren’t a gambling man.” Her voice is strong, rich like an anchorwoman, completely unlike how he’d expected her to sound. “And anyway, you’ll live it out, tomorrow.”

Oh. So she does know.

The furrow between his eyebrows he cancels out with a bland smile. He gets the impression he should leave.

“I could tell you other things.”

“What other things?” It’s good to keep his mind distracted on the eve of a race. He’s always said that. Has he always said that? Well. He’s saying it now.

She draws a card. “The Fool.”

“Not a good start,” Oscar says. “I think I’m gonna—”

“Inexperience and improvisation,” she says. Her teeth are wondrously bright, straight like gravestones lined up in a row. “Not bad, all things considering.”

All things considering, being how this season is going? What does she know.

“I’ve read this somewhere before,” Oscar says. If it’s a fight she wants.

“The Suit of Swords,” she continues, as if she hasn’t heard him. “A logical mind and a spoken word.”

“You have a preplanned deck, for anyone who walks pass.”

“The Tower. Misery, distress. Unseen catastrophe.”

Oscar grits his teeth. “And then you use the same cards, in the same order, for every person. You’re purposely vague.”

“The Three of Wands. Stepping outside of comfort. Persevering.”

“Everything you say can apply to anyone,” Oscar says. This is as combative as he gets. “It’s all a trick.”

“Ah,” she says, and for a second, Oscar thinks he’s broken through, that she’ll snap at him, shoo him away. “But the Seven of Swords, reversed. A turning point. Starting anew.”

“I’m leaving,” Oscar says. Getting distracted on the eve of a race is folly. He’s always said that. Said that to Carlos, only a month or so ago.

“Only one remedy, for someone as recalcitrant as yourself.”

“I’m leaving,” Oscar says again, tongue like cotton. His feet stay right where they are.

She presses the last card into his hands. That video that had gotten viral years ago, the one where you could hand literally any item off to someone who was speaking on the phone. A shoe, a burger, a baby. This feels weightier than a baby. Oscar’s fingers open and close around the card, a wind-up doll dancing along to someone else's tune.

“Norris is winning tomorrow,” she says.

“Oh, fuck off.”

--

They both went into it with the exact same intentions: to come out of it perfectly intact. It was such a foolish notion from the beginning that they were unwilling to allow any heartbreak over it. So stubbornly, wholeheartedly, they worked their damnedest to come out of it perfectly intact.

If he can look past the way his heart wobbles in his chest whenever Carlos so much as looks his way, Oscar will say it’s been a success. He goes to bed, wakes up, races, while forgetting the intimate press of Carlos’s lips against his. They have a renegotiated new normal, the distance between them adjusted to a boring meter. Just close enough so as not to appear frosty, but far away enough that their shoulders can’t possibly accidentally bump.

“Oscar,” George greets cordially. “Feeling good about today?”

“Like hell I am,” Oscar says, with all the earnestness of a puppy still learning how to use its paws.

Multiple calculations flicker across George’s face. Like how much he actually wants to get into it, and how best to weave his way out of it.

“Chin up,” George says, then turns to Alex.

Oscar rolls his eyes. Catches himself doing it, and makes a concerted effort to pull his eyeballs back down into place. It isn’t like him to be so careless with expression. People act like honesty’s a virtue, then jump back like it could scald the moment it pops up in conversation. He sidles away, and finds himself waving at the crowd, a painless armlength from Carlos.

He suddenly, fervently, hates night races. He’s exhausted. It must be why. When Carlos opens his mouth, says something entirely cordial and normal, like How are you, Oscar’s tongue wriggles itself and lets loose.

“I miss you,” he says. The words are out before Oscar can clap a hand over his mouth. “I feel like shit and I miss you.”

“Right,” Carlos says. Still waving at the crowd, but with his shoulders pushed all the way up to his ears. “And I’m Cleopatra.”

“You’re more beautiful than—aw fuck.” He actually bites his tongue. To stop himself from talking. He needs to stop talking.

“Oscar,” Carlos says. He looks a second away from bolting, except there’s not much place to go, being on a moving bus. “What’s wrong with you?”

“Recalcitrance,” Oscar recites. “And an inability to be honest. Fuck. Fuckkkkk.”

“I’m serious, Oscar. If this is some mind game, you can drop it, yeah? We’re both adults. We can be adults about this.”

“I can’t,” Oscar says pleadingly. “I can’t stop thinking about you and I can’t stop wishing it could be different even though I know I was the one who—”

“Enough,” Carlos says, more hurt than Oscar’s ever heard him. This is what honesty does? Oscar should have burned those cards in front of that woman. “You can’t do this now, it’s not fair. After all you said before, you don’t remember that?”

“I lied, I’ve been lying,” Oscar says. “But I can’t now, apparently, you have to believe me.”

“I don’t have to believe anything,” Carlos says. “I don’t need you fucking up my race.”

“Lando’s going to win,” Oscar says miserably.

“You’re an asshole,” Carlos says, then goes to shoulder his way into some other group, and return to waving at the fans, leaving Oscar now a very painful one, two, three, four, five meters away.

--

Lando—wins? Then gets his win stripped away because of some penalty, moving Max up into first, Oscar into second, and Carlos into third.

She’s right, but only on a technicality. Oscar doesn’t want to give her that. And anyway, second place is pretty damn euphoric. He also gets to spray Carlos with champagne. Soak Carlos with it. Pretend the crinkles on Carlos’s face are for him.

He’s not thinking about his lack of filter when there’s a mic shoved up into his face.

“Obviously, I feel for Lando. It’s never a nice experience when you think you have something, but you don’t.”

Behind him, Carlos is waiting to give his interview. In front of him, the reporter’s face is suitably sympathetic.

“I mean, obviously, sometimes. It’s not even your fault. But sometimes—it is?”

“Right,” she says. “About the penalty, right?”

“Uh huh, the penalty. Sometimes it’s totally your fault. When you push people away.”

“You mean off the track?”

“Yeah, off the track,” Oscar nods fervently. He needs to buy this lady a bottle of wine, bless her. “But Lando will recover, the team will come back stronger.”

“Are you happy with your podium today?”

“Of course,” Oscar says. “I’m happy Carlos was up there with me. He deserves it. I’m happy he’s getting these podiums with Ferrari, so they can see—”

What they’ve given away, what they’ve pushed away.

Carlos is suddenly closer, behind him. Hand on Oscar’s lower back, subtle enough that no one else can see. Chiding, but gentle.

“—see him celebrate with this team.” Safer, but no less true. “I’m. Uh, very happy.”

“Right,” she says. “Just one more thing.”

“Ay,” Carlos says, in that lovely, good-natured way of his. “Is my turn now, no?”

“Of course,” she laughs, utterly charmed. “Oscar, thank you for your time.”

Carlos’s hand on his hip feels almost protective, the way he nudges Oscar away from the pen. Go, go. Button it up. You’re not for sale. Go.

--

Carlos examines the card under the neon glow of the strip. The waxy paper’s almost see through when he holds it up. You stare too long and in the end, you find you’re just looking directly at the lights, hurting your eyes. Unsurprisingly, when Oscar took him to where the woman had her little table set up, she wasn’t there.

“I think you got sold some snake oil.”

“I didn’t buy anything,” Oscar says.

“But you’re being made to pay,” Carlos says, grinning. “I’ve never heard you like that before. I’m happy for Carlos, just like that! To the media too. Impressive.”

“Go on,” Oscar says. “Kick a guy when he’s down.”

“Sorry,” Carlos says, sounding like he means it. Oscar’s heart does that pathetic quiver before it rightens itself. Carlos is always so quick to retract his claws, the moment he thinks he’s drawn blood. “It’s just, you know, kinda nice, having you like this. You’re never like this.”

“You could.” Oscar swallows. Prays that he has it in him to be brave. “Ask me anything now. I wouldn’t be able to lie.”

Carlos looks at him, before looking down at his feet. “That’s cheating, no?”

“For you?”

“No,” Carlos says. “For you. You’re cheating, like this.”

Ah. If Carlos had been anyone else, maybe he could have just asked and spared them both the trouble. Something like, Hey, hey. Be honest. Do you have feelings for me? Instead, Carlos hands the card back. Unwilling to go for the jugular. Classic Carlos.

Oscar wants so much to take his hand.

He clears his throat. “Do you remember. Uh. Before you started in F1. Did you ever have to. Like. Go through all of your past with anyone? Tell them who you dated and stuff?”

“Ah,” Carlos says. “Eh. Well. My Dad mostly already knew everything.”

“I think Mark wanted the ground to swallow him up, asking me.”

Carlos giggles. “I bet you were very embarrassing.”

“I, uh. Wasn’t very honest with him.”

“Good,” Carlos says.

“Good?” Oscar says, like some lost puppy.

“Yes, good,” Carlos says seriously. “It’s not for anyone else.”

Oscar waits for Carlos to ask, even while knowing Carlos never would. Not like that. Ball’s in Oscar’s court, as they’d say. For when he finally works through his recalcitrance and inability to be honest. I don’t want to reveal you to the world. Risk you in the slightest, Oscar wants to tell Carlos. That’s why I said all that I said. That’s why.

The card’s not strong enough for that. Not when Carlos, who’s equally as stubborn, refuses to invoke its magic. He’s protective like that, Carlos. Oscar offers him a wobbly smile, an olive branch. All that he can give right now. Generous that he is, Carlos allows the distance between them to shrink to something almost friendly, almost enough to bump shoulders.

--

Just for the fun of it, Oscar goes back, a couple of hours before he’s due at the airport.

She’s there now, of course.

“I don’t need this anymore,” he says, placing the card back onto her table.

She tuts at him like she’s disappointed, but shuffles the card back into her deck anyway.

“Also, Lando didn’t win.”

“Boy,” she says. “Do you think I actually watch Formula 1? Run along now. Do this your own way.”

“I will,” he says. “Thanks, I guess?”

She laughs. Grins at him in a way that’s both sinister and encouraging. Were her teeth always gleaming gold? “Your flight’s going to be late,” she says.

“Oh, fuck off.”

[explicit-tae]

Ungodly Hour (Jimin)

I think you deserve a treat.” @seokjinkismet @bloodline1632 @babycandy111 @investedreader

Word Count: 7.081

Warning: dirty talk, sexting, cursing, jimin being in denial, hatefucking, slight enemies to friends to lovers??, kissing, semi-public sex, masturbation (f), oral sex, finger sucking, unprotected sex, voyeurism/exhibitionism, face-slapping,

Kinktober Masterlist

“So,” Jungkook begins, lightly tapping his foot against the floor. “you pay for Onlyfans...”

“Shut,” Jimin’s teeth grits. “the fuck up.”

Jungkook roars with laughter, his head pushed back to let it out. Like clockwork, Taehyung begins to laugh which causes Hoseok, too, as well. 

Jimin’s ears are red, just as his neck, with embarrassment. 

This wasn’t the norm - he wasn’t the butt of jokes. Jungkook was and always has been. He doesn’t know how to handle the embarrassment. He does understand that he hates you with every fiber of his being.

Maybe hate was a strong word. Jimin didn’t hate you - you were, however, a rival of his. 

You and your constant smart remarks underneath his tweets. 

You always go against him in debates while in classes with such a condescending tone that has his hands clenching.

The way you post suggestive pictures on your twitter pages that doesn’t show everything, but just enough to have his mind wandering for more.

The way you tempt him with the link to your Onlyfans pinned on your profile that even he - someone who loathes you - has to check and see just how much of a mess you were. 

The way that you weren’t a mess in the slightest and all of the free pictures you show only forces him to subscribe to you to see more; not because he thought you were attractive - just because he was a naturally nosy individual.

“I hate her.” Jimin says what he’s thinking aloud. “Because of that bitch, now I’m Jungkook.”

“A simp?” Taehyung questions with a raise of his eyebrow. 

“You’re going to start barking next?” ask Hoseok.

“Okay,” Jungkook raises his hands in confusion. ���why are we reverting the bullying back to me?”

Jimin rolls his eyes. “I’m doing no such thing.” he hisses. “Okay, fine. I may have subscribed. I was bored.”

Hoseok snorts.

“So bored that you became her top earner in the last few months?” Jungkook was having entirely too much fun with this. Finally, he wouldn’t be the one laughed at. Sure, Jimin and you weren’t dating and probably never would - but no longer was he the only “simp” in the friend group.

“She’s lying!” Jimin scoffs - even if you weren’t. There were certain videos that in order to be unlocked, he had to pay for them. And how could he not when you made them entirely too enticing for him, showing only a few seconds of clips that would draw him in. 

“The screenshots she posted aren’t lies.” Jungkook purses his lips to hide the smirk.

Jimin is silent for a moment, his hands tapping rhythmically onto his thigh. He snatches his phone from the side of the couch to see if what Jungkook was saying is true - and low and behold it was.

“That fucking bitch.” Jimin swallows, not believing that his life was going downhill. Everyone would see him as some sort of simp freak like Jungkook, but worse! 

“I think you’ve met your match, hyung.” Jungkook roars with laughter again. 

“Why did you provoke her if she had all this dirt on you?” Hoseok shakes his head. 

“I didn’t think she’d know it was me!” Jimin throws his phone to the side. “Shouldn’t things like that be confidential?!”

Maybe it was dumb - he had signed up with his actual account. However, he figured that you wouldn’t be able to see that. That only meant you could see everything he sent you - the gifts from your wishlist were probably the worse ones. 

Jimin was feeling sick.

“It was confidential. Until you provoked her.” 

Jimin licks his lips and rolls his eyes. 

“You know this is normal, right? I mean…” Hoseok shrugs his shoulders. “You’re attracted-”

Jimin scoffs loudly. “As if.”

“Jimin,” Taehyung shakes his head. “We’ve seen how much you spent on her. Literally.” he begins to chuckle. “And that’s okay.”

“Yeah, it is!” Jungkook nods his head encouragingly. 

Jimin swallows. No, it wasn’t okay. If Jungkook was agreeing with him about something then that only meant that he was slowly becoming like the younger boy. Soon it’ll be Jimin obsessing over what you’re doing, and how much he wants to see you and-

Jimin gags. 

Honestly fuck you and everything you stand for. 

And even if that’s what Jimin stood by, even now as he lays in his bed staring up at the ceiling. His mind wanders to you, as disgusted as he was at the fact. 

Jimin snatches his phone from his nightstand and he’s determined. 

Fuck you for embarrassing him, truly. He was going to unsubscribe from you and then you wouldn’t have anything. It serves you right for attempting to humble him.

Jimin opens his phone with every attempt to unsubscribe from your Onlyfans and save him the embarrassment until a message pops onto his phone from a number he doesn’t recognize.

Curiosity gets the best of him and Jimin clicks the message. His eyes widen and it doesn’t take long for him to feel the erection through his pajama pants. 

It was you. How you got his number, he’s unsure. Yet, you seem to have gotten closer to Jungkook’s girlfriend - someone else who irks his soul - and just maybe you’ve gotten it from her. 

You had sent him a picture.

Of course, it wasn’t just any picture. It couldn’t be just any picture that would allow his cock to grow hard in seconds and his palms to grow sweaty. 

It was a picture of you in the very same lingerie you had in your wishlist - the very same one he bought for you. 

By now, Jimin knows your body. He’s become more than acquainted with the shape of your hips along with the plumpness of your breast; even the softness of your smooth skin. It’s pathetic, truly, and he’s grown ashamed of himself.

It’s a lilac color that he knew would look amazing against your skin - and it does. It’s a lacy fabric so he could just see how erect your nipples were and how it clung to the shape of your body. 

Jimin is unaware how long he’s staring at the picture until you send him another message.

‘I think you deserve a treat.’

Jimin swallows thickly, finding that his throat is dry and he is in serious need of some water. He coats his lips with his tongue, his eyes trained onto the picture, contemplating if he should respond to you or not.

You were the reason for every irritation currently in his life - exposing him as some sort of horny loser that dotted on your every command. As if he was a sort of dog that humps your leg needily!

But…this picture.

Jimin would be lying if he said the picture of you didn’t cause his already sweaty palm to grip his cock entirely through his pajama pants, mind racing if he should allow you to consume him once more. He was on a mission to humble you the best way he knew how - by unsubscribing. But here you were, as if knowing his plans, sending him pictures that would surely cause him to become distracted.

Jimin is startled when his phone begins to sound loudly, your number on his caller id, as if taunting him even further. Jimin doesn’t answer it instantly, not wanting you to know just how stuck on his phone you had him.

“What do you want?”

Jimin can hear his heart pounding in his chest as he awaits your response. He attempts to sound annoyed with you and he ponders if you know that it’s all an act.

“Jimin…”

Jimin feels the hair on his arms stiffen and rise, as if a cold breeze just runs through his body entirely. The way you say his name, so sickly sweet and yet, a hint of something sinister underneath.

“Are you upset with me, Jimin?”

Jimin swallows, his hand squeezing his phone tighter in his hand. You rarely say his name to begin with so to hear it come directly from your sweet lips causes something to go through him. Maybe it’s because Jimin knows just how sweet your voice is - how lust-filled the moans you release through them. 

But, Jimin understands that you cannot know just how much he is affected by you. He won’t allow you to have the upper hand. You won the battle, sure, by embarrassing him. However, the war was his to accomplish.

“I am.” Jimin grunts. “You’re a bitch.”

Jimin hears you laugh behind the phone and his heart jolts in excitement.

“We both knew that.” you say coolly. “Isn’t that what excites you?”

Jimin scoffs. 

“Don’t act all high and mighty, Jimin.” you respond. “You watch me fuck myself faithfully. That has to excite you somehow.”

Jimin’s eyes widen a bit, mentally cursing himself for allowing you to gain the upper hand. 

“Not anymore.”

“Ah, so you’re that upset, huh?” 

You don’t seem bothered by Jimin stating that he’s going to unsubscribe to your godforsaken onlyfans and inside, he’s seething.

“So upset that you vowed to stop jerking off to me?”

Jimin scoffs. The nerve of you!

“You’re going to lie and say I didn’t give you the best nut of your life behind a screen?” you begin to laugh, a melodic tune that infuriates him to no end. “You’re embarrassed to know that Jungkook isn’t the only one simping.”

“Like I’d ever truly simp for you!” Jimin snaps, nearly barking right into the phone. “A whore like you should be thankful that I would even give you my money. I saw you as nothing but a charity case.”

You’re silent on the other end, eerily so. Jimin takes a few moments to collect himself, contemplating that maybe his ego got the best of him for a moment. He licks his lips, his mind pondering if he should…apologize. He wants to gag.

“You must live alone with all that hollering you’re doing over the phone.”

Your tone is as nonchalant as ever and deep down, Jimin is glad that he hadn’t taken it too far to truly upset you.

“And here I was calling you to make sure I didn’t bruise your ego too much.” you tsk. “Looks like I did.”

You begin to giggle again. Your attitude strikes a nerve through him that only you ever hit. The flashbacks running through his mind of all the times you and he went at it - debates, during class presentations, under tweets and even now. You got off on irritating him just the same as he got off from you.

“I wanted to make it up to you.”

Jimin furrows a brow at that statement. 

“Make it up to me how? Beg me not to unsubscribe?”

Jimin hears you snicker from behind the phone. “No. You can unsubscribe right now.” you say, yet again with little care that it strikes yet another nerve through him. “But, we both know if you wanted to, you would have already.”

Jimin hates how right you are. He doesn’t want to stop the endless amount of pictures and videos you share, especially the exclusive ones that have to be bought. Money isn’t an issue for Jimin and he found that he’s spent an insane amount on you already - no wonder you’re such a bitch. How could you take him seriously if he wasn’t even taking himself seriously now.

Jimin groans.

“How are you planning on making it up to me?” Jimin questions. “Publicly apologizing to me and admitting you’re inferior to me-”

“By allowing you to fuck me raw.” you interrupt him entirely, causing Jimin to choke on his own speech. Once more, the phone tightens in his grasp and his breathing hitches. “Of course, you’ll need to share your STD results and I’ll share mine-”

“What the fuck are you getting at?” Jimin hisses, his heart pounding. Surely you were attempting to embarrass him by seeing how fast he’d react to your insane comments.

“Are you saying you don’t want to fuck me?” you hum. “After all the times you’ve watched my videos? Sent me gifts? Or was I just a charity case?”

Jimin takes a deep breath. Okay, sure. Maybe he shouldn’t have said that - but he was upset at the moment. He has never met anyone where he felt as though he’s met his match. Him, Park Jimin, felt like you, Y/L Y/N, matched his energy so perfectly that he doesn’t know how to handle it.

“You don’t have to do this because you feel like you have to.” Jimin murmurs, unclenching his phone slightly. It’s an act of kindness he’s supposed he can spare towards you. 

“I know.”

For a moment, the both of you are silent. He waits in anticipation for you to speak further.

“I’ll text you my results and you do the same.”

Jimin feels it once more, the jump in his stomach. He never truly thought either of you would get to this point, nor does he understand how it even got here. 

“You actually want to do this?”

“It was bound to happen.”

Jimin knits his brows at that. Was it?

Once Jimin joined your onlyfans and witnesses just how, dare he say, enticing you were, he was ashamed to say that he was captivated.

Possibly that was why he had to antagonize you during classes; an act you returned without an issue.

One too many times did Jimin and you go at it during classes, far too enthralled in debating one another, did his mind wander to something darker. Bending you over and forcing you to shut up like he wanted you to was one way.

Taking a deep breath, Jimin licks his lips. “Just for one night…” you begin, a tone that catches Jimin’s ear, causing it to twitch. “...I’ll do as you say.”

“What makes someone worthy of leading?” 

Class is nearly over, yet Jimin and you never halted your debate. Overtime, it became practical that even the professor enjoyed listening in on. 

“The true question is, why would someone want to lead anything?” you ask with a tilt of your head. You wore a skirt today, Jimin notes, and your legs are smooth and shiny beneath the classroom's bright lights. “I believe it is because they’re narcissistic.”

“Narcissistic?” Jimin scoffs with a roll of his eyes. He catches the way you begin to coat your lips with a shimmery gloss.

“Yes, Jimin. Is that a big word for you?” you blink his way.

 A few snicker sounds throughout the class and Jimin could only give you a short grin. Later, he was going to have you shut the fuck up like he truly wanted you to.

“Money. Power. Respect.” you hold up your fingers as you list off your point. “It all leads down to greed and narcissism.”

“So…regular humans?” Jimin furrows a brow. “Please name me someone that doesn’t require anything you listed off.”

You lean back against your chair, arms crossed.

The past week, Jimin and you continued to talk over the phone. It wasn’t always sexual, and oftentimes it would be about school. The time clock was ticking down to the time you and him would be together - the weekend was what he suggested. Still, the show must go on; even if you were determined to fuck his brains out.

“Beyond popular belief, Jimin,” you begin, your eyes shining with mischief. You know what saying his name does to him and there was nothing a little teasing would harm. “there’s people out there that aren’t fueled by greed.”

“Maybe so.” Jimin shrugs. “Still, whoever the hell those people are possibly think they’re the best, right? They believe they’re the best type of people to do the job? Is that not narcissistic?”

“Those people could want it more than others do.” you respond with a shrug.

An alarm sounds - placed by the professor that indicates when classes are over.

Taehyung watches from his seat as Jimin and you continue to stare at one another, hard gazes that are full of lust that he wants to scoff. He believes that the both of you need to fuck it out - immediately. 

You gather your things, being the first to take your eyes away.

Jimin watches the way your hips sways as you saunter away, your legs appearing longer than usual. Taehyung notices the dark look in his eyes - more than lust, yet not pure hatred.

“You, my good sir,” Taehyung slams a hand on his friend's shoulder. “want to fuck her so bad.” he says with a loud cackle. “The sexual tension is high as hell. You got the rest of us horny and-”

“Shut the fuck up, please.” Jimin snaps, shrugging off Taehyung’s hand. Usually he wasn’t this snappy with him of all people and truly, Taehyung doesn’t take it to offense. “I hate her.”

“Sure.” Taehyung smirks, his eyes following Jimin’s gaze right in time for you to turn your head to look their way; directly at Jimin. “I’m positive she hates you, too.”

“Fucking bitch.” Jimin murmurs, gathering his own belongings. He continues to murmur beneath his breath, storming out of the classroom and going the opposite way of Taehyung. 

Jimin’s eyes catch you almost instantly in the sea of scattering students. Once more, almost as if you can sense his hard eyes on you, you turn your head to look at him. You flash him a low smirk that only begins to irritate him more.

You enjoyed irking him, Jimin’s sure. You don’t stop walking, turning down hallways that no one but Jimin steps into until you step into a classroom, closing the door right behind you.

You’re seated on a desk when Jimin slams the door open, uncaring that it slams against the wall. 

You snicker. “Jimin.” you say, tilting your head. “You following me?”

Jimin steps inside, shoulders relaxing a bit. You scan his appearance for the first time. Simpler than he usually wears, only dark jeans with rips at the knees with a similar dark shirt. It resembles the way Jungkook would usually wear, you note.

“You’re a bitch.”

You aren’t taken aback by Jimin’s words. It causes you to laugh, highly amused by his statement. 

“I know. That’s what you like about me, huh?” you bat your eyelashes as Jimin proceeds to close the door behind him.  “You look so tense, Jimin, what’s-”

“You love embarrassing me.” Jimin interrupts, taking a long stride towards you. “It must make your pussy wet when you talk shit to me.”

You remain silent, yet your smile never falters.

“You told me, Y/N, that for one night,” Jimin is in front of you, your legs lightly swinging. “you were going to shut the fuck up.”

“For one night, I’ll do as you say.” you repeat your words from a few days prior. Your hand reaches out to touch Jimin’s chest. It’s broad, only slightly surprising you. “Is what I said.”

“And yet, you haven’t done anything.”

“You haven’t told me to do anything.” your responses come immediately after he speaks, just as quick witted as he is. 

“Hm.” Jimin glances around the classroom. It doesn’t look like any professor inhabits this room. The lights are flickering slightly and the surrounding tables have slight dust on them. “Pick your poison.”

You lick your lips. Your hand remains on his chest, this time clenching onto his shirt.

“You’re the one that’s supposed to be in charge.” you murmur. “I’ll do whatever you say.”

Jimin blinks towards you. You’re serious, he notes. 

“I need to know what not to do.” Your hand unclenches his shirt to slightly trail down his chest towards his abs.

“I’ll let you know when we get there, yeah?” you say, eyes remaining on him almost innocently. If only he didn’t know just how lack of innocence you truly contained. 

Jimin hums, tilting his head a bit.

It would be a lie to say Park Jimin wasn’t attractive - which is why you never did. However, you weren’t going to be a part of the women who adored him. He already had a large ego and enough sass.

Possibly this was one of the reasons why you decided to go against him in anything he did.

“Kiss me.”

Jimin’s lips are plump - you always thought so. Though now, you would have never thought he would demand you to do so. Kissing felt slightly more intimate than just a casual hookup, but you didn’t mind.

You scoot yourself closer to the edge of the desk towards Jimin, lifting your head a bit. Your trailing hand is quick to grasp the back of Jimin’s neck and force him down towards your waiting lips.

Dare Jimin says the kiss causes a spark, shooting electricity through his veins that causes him to groan against your lips. He deepens the kiss, your sweet lips coating his own with the shimmery gloss, but he doesn’t mind in the slightest.

You break the kiss to sink your teeth on Jimin’s bottom lip playfully. “You get a pass to do whatever you want to me and all you want to do is kiss?” you tease.

“I like you better when you’re quiet.” Jimin pecks your lips again. “But a bitch like you never knows when to shut up.” And yes, it was what Jimin liked about you.

“Degradation kink. Noted.” you nod your head, earning a soft chuckle from Jimin, a break of character. “I’ll be your bitch for tonight. Then…” it was your turn to press a kiss against his lips. “...it’ll be my turn.”

Jimin feels an excited jump in his stomach.

“My bitch?”Jimin isn’t sure why he likes the sound of that. Maybe because now he could do what he always wanted to you and you’d do as he said; finally. You wouldn’t go against him like you did during classes or embarrass him in front of others.

“Touch yourself.”

You’re taken aback by Jimin’s request. He proceeds to take a few steps back, sitting against a table with crossed arms.

“Get naked and touch yourself. Like you do on your onlyfans.”

Your body engulfs in warmth. You were by no means embarrassed by the fact that you had an onlyfans; most people who knew you knew that you did. If they were bothered by it, you didn’t care. 

Yet, it was different recording yourself in the comfort of your own home and uploading it. You never really know how many people are watching you as you didn’t want to think about the amount of eyes; yet even now as Jimin was only one person, it’s a request you weren’t familiar with.

“Don’t act shy now, Y/N.” Jimin’s plump lips form into a smirk. He notices the look upon your face, shocked and confused. “I watched you fuck yourself all the time.”

It’s just the two of you here. There was no hiding - initially, Jimin thought him being subscribed to you would be confidential. Now realizing that it’s not, he finds it…hot. In a way.

You swallow the lump in your throat, biting back a snarky remark. 

You were his bitch tonight, you tell yourself. It’s all a game that you initiated, you can’t back down now.

You lift your shirt over your head, Jimin’s dark eyes watching the way you discard it. Your breasts are guarded by the lacy, white bra you wore.

Next was your skirt. You drop yourself from the desk to remove the jean skirt from your frame, revealing the matching lacy panties. Jimin begins to think you planned this further ahead than he thought.

You kick off your shoes, furrowing a brow at Jimin.

“Touch yourself.” Jimin repeats, a jolt in his own pants at the half-naked sight of you. His mouth salivates at witnessing your body - that he’s seen thousands of times before behind his screen - right in front of him. “The old fashion way. You don’t have any of your toys, baby.”

The pet-name was new. You were only ever used to the insults he hurled at you (that you gladly returned) yet it would be false if you said you didn’t enjoy it.

“Can you help me?” you ask Jimin, batting your eyelashes. You just couldn’t help yourself in returning his playful manner. “Take off my bra…?”

“Come.”

Your skin is soft, Jimin thinks. His hand ghosts behind your back, longing to touch you just as much as you want him to. His fingers unclasp your bra prior to him trailing up your spine to your shoulders. He lightly pushes away the straps from them so you can allow it to fall to the ground. 

“Thank you.” you murmur, your fingers digging into your panties as slowly, you begin to remove them, bending right in front of him as you do so.

Jimin swallows, his eyes fixed on you. His palms long to touch every inch of your body, but he remains stoic, understanding what you’re doing. It kills you to be the submissive one now, as you are a headstrong person.

“You’re very beautiful, Y/N.”

Jimin notices you stiffen again, the same shyness overwhelming you once more.

“Why are you continuing to act shy?” Jimin finally touches you, his hand reaches out to place itself onto your waist. “It’s just me.” he says, as if this is something you two did all the time. As if you and he hadn’t gone at each other's head since the beginning of the semester, seemingly hating one another.

You feel Jimin’s hand begin to lightly drag itself up your body. 

“Is this not what you want?”

“I do.” you respond instantly, the familiar heat rushing throughout your body by how quick you answered.

“Then do as I say. You said so yourself, right? Tonight you’ll be my bitch.” Jimin chuckles lightly, because that only meant next time he would be in your position. “And I want to watch you touch yourself, okay?”

You bite the inside of your lips as Jimin’s right hand ghosts past your breast. Slowly, you turn around to face him.

“Okay.” you nod your head. It’s funny to think that Jimin is coaching you in a way. You, the same girl who does this behind a screen every other day.  

You had to remind yourself just who the hell you were - Y/N. You never allowed Jimin to get to you before, why start now?

You seat yourself atop of the desk once more, fully naked like Jimin intended and your legs part slightly. 

Jimin licks his lips. Having seen your pussy many times you’d think it wouldn’t cause him to react this way; mouth salivating and cock throbbing in his pants. Atlas, he was just a man, after all.

You were about to place your hand right onto your clit when Jimin stopped you.

“You don’t have any toys with you.” Jimin reminds you. “You sure you’re wet enough?”

You were, Jimin thinks, truly wet enough. He can see you from here, yet he has to revel in this moment that you weren’t going to fight him.

Jimin begins to step forward, your eyes watching him closely.

“Give me your hand.” Jimin murmurs, his voice suddenly deeper - the deepest you’ve ever heard. 

You swallow, eyes slightly widening at the sound (and how it causes a tingle in your core). You do as you say, lifting your hand that Jimin takes. He places three fingers into his mouth, your index, middle and ring, and fully coats them with his tongue.

You haven’t had anyone do this before and you’re left shocked - and more than a little aroused. He takes them from his mouth and furrows a brow at you.

“Begin.” Jimin says, and nothing more. 

Nor does the man step away from you. Jimin is just as close, now fully intended on watching you from where he stands.

Jimin was getting off on this. The slight nervousness in your body language, the bewildered look on your face and the warmth of your embarrassed skin; it’s a sight he never gets to see while bickering with you in classes. It’s a vulnerable sight, indeed, one he wishes he can see more often.

Licking your lips, you nod your head softly. Your eyes remain on his, reaching between your legs to do exactly what he told you to. You’re already wet thanks to Jimin, a thought you never would have assumed to be possible.  

Your wet fingers twirl onto the sensitive clit, a soft moan passing your lips. Slightly, your back arches and draws you closer to Jimin, who still doesn’t step away as his eyes watch you. 

You’re unable to hold Jimin’s intense gaze any longer and your eyes begin to flutter close. 

Your free hand reaches upwards to grip your breast, hardened nipple brushed against your soft palm.

Jimin itches to touch you - feel your skin against the palm of his own hands. His mouth salivates hungrily to taste your skin; suckle onto your breast that bounces teasingly as you touch yourself. He wants to dive right between your legs and ravish on your pussy until you’re cumming against his tongue.

Jimin groans at the disgusting thoughts of you. It’s evident that the sexual desire was there before; for quite too long for his liking. Him watching your damn near daily didn’t help, either.

“Feels good?” Jimin murmurs, the same damn deep tone in his voice that arouses you further. “Speak when I’m talking to you.”

“Yes!” you whimper out, nodding your head rapidly. “Feels…so good.”

“You speak dirtier than that, baby.” Jimin chuckles, shaking his head. Without warning - his body speaks before his mind can - Jimin grasps your jaw, forcing you to look at him. “Talk to me like you do during your videos.”

You were a whore when you were in the comfort of your room. You spoke to your “viewers” as if you were right there with them, giving them what they wanted. A dirty whore who was willing and waiting; all a fantasy of course. A fantasy that sells.

“I wish it was your fingers touching me.”

Jimin grunts, his fingers tightening around your jaw. Your eyes are as cloudy as his now. 

“I think about you touching me…all the time…” you disclosed with struggle as Jimin makes no attempt to let you go. “Especially when we’re in class.”

Jimin quirks a brow.  “Yeah?” he responds smugly. 

“Y-Yeah…” your fingers go lower towards your clenching hole. “I-I think about you bending me over all the time. Right in front of everyone.”

Jimin is first to look away from you, cursing to himself at how slutty you were. He couldn’t allow you to take control of the situation, but damn was it hard. He wouldn’t consider himself a dominant person at all times. He had no problem with being teased - but that wasn’t what had to be done now.

“I think about you fucking me stupid.” you continue, your fingertips inching closer to your hole. “Fucking me until i’m begging you to stop. To take it easy on me.”

Fuck - Fuck - Fuck.

Jimin’s cock throbs.

“But I know you won’t…you never do.” you whimper, your fingers plunging inside of your wet entrance. “And deep down, we both know I don’t want you to. I’ll continue to be a little bitch to you because I know you’ll just fuck me into submission.”

Jimin releases your jaw only to slap you.

You’re caught off guard, sure, but you enjoyed the slap far too much.

“That’s why you fight me so much?” Jimin hisses. “A bitch like you can never just admit she wants to be fucked head-on?”

You lick your lips, remaining silent. You plunge your fingers deeper inside of you greedily, free hand now tugging on your hardened nipple.

“I should open the door and have everyone hear just how good I fuck you, huh?” Jimin growls, again slapping his hand against your face just to keep it there. The stinging feels good - especially at a time like this.

You whimper once more, nodding your head at the insane statement.

Jimin chuckles. “So fucked out that you’ll agree to anything.”

Jimin leans down to you to connect his lips, forcing your mouth open with his tongue. Kissing you isn’t something he’d ever thought he’d enjoy doing - he hated you. But, this was hot. You were hot and now more than anything, Jimin wanted every inch of you that you were willing to give.

“You can fuck me right now.” you say, breathing hitched when he releases your mouth. “And I’ll be submissive. I’ll let you do whatever you want.”

Your fingers weren’t enough. No, you needed Jimin’s cock in you. You needed to be fucked by him to release all the tension you and he held for years.

“You can cum wherever you want.” you whisper, breath tickling his skin. “On my ass…breast…face…” your teeth clamp down on Jimin’s bottom lip. “...or inside me.”

Jimin shakes his head. You were a deadly person.

“Feel it…” you insist. “...I’m wet just for you. 

“You fucking bitch.” Jimin curses, his hands reaching down to do just that. You’re so wet that he has no choice but to hate you further - how could he not want to shove his tongue in your core? How is he expected to not fuck you in the room?

“...So wet now. You want my cock this bad?”

Jimin’s fingers twirls on your clit, the warm skin gushing juices onto him. 

“You know I do.” you whine. You were genuinely begging now; this wasn’t an act anymore. “I thought you said you were going to make me your bitch tonight?”

“We have all night.” Jimin responds boldly, leaning away a bit to look at you.You were intended to come to his place - this was a silent invitation that you still could.

“Then fuck me now.” you say, head falling back a bit when Jimin’s fingers twirl onto your sensitive clit. “...f-fuck…then…you can fuck me again all night. Until you’re done with m…m-me.”

Jimin growls once more, swallowing thickly. This was too tempting. The chance to fuck you into submission the entire night is tempting - take years of anger he had with you out on one night sounded amazing.

“You bitch.” Jimin hisses, forcing his hands from your clit to tug at his jeans. He pulls them down, his bulge pulsing to be touched. “I’ll cum all over your skin tonight, huh? Show you just how much of a fucking whore you are for me.”

Licking your lips, you eye the bulge as he kicks his jeans lower around his knees. His dirty words are highly intoxicating and you find yourself wanting to be submissive for the man; just for one night, of course.

“I’ll cum inside you now,” Jimin groans, fingers digging into the bang of his boxers to push it down and allowing his cock to spring out. “and you’ll walk around with my cum in you all the way until tonight.”

You had to be at work later, you think, but right now it felt tempting. The way the mind works while under such desire and temptation is truly amazing.

“Okay.” you nod your head, pussy clenching around absolutely nothing and wishing it was Jimin’s cock.

Jimin’s cock was truly pretty, the tip flushed pink and angrily oozing pre-cum. You hate how it captivates you instantly, veins pulsing and it twitching for attention. 

Fuck you hated him even more now and the feeling was mutual.

Jimin grasps the length of his cock and inches closer to you, slapping the tip against your clit. You yelp when he begins to softly stroke it between your folds.

“I hate you.” Jimin groans, clouded eyes focusing on how well your pussy is coating the tip. “You have such a pretty pussy…fuck I hate you.” he groans with a shake of his head. It’s even prettier in person

You want to respond with the same statement. It wasn’t fair that Jimin’s cock was so pretty along with an attractive face, but you don’t have time to speak as he’s entering you.

Jimin groans, closing his eyes for a moment. So wet and tights; walls so warm wrapping around him greatly. He hated you with every fiber in him. A bitch like you shouldn’t have a pussy like this.

Your nails dig into his dark shirt, forcing him closer  - cock deepening inside of you. Your thighs quiver, mouth agape as you release a sharp moan from it. “...f-fuck…” you stutter.

Jimin connects your lips to his, releasing his cock just to plunge it right back inside of you. His left wraps itself around your waist while his right hand forces your thighs apart to keep you in place.

Jimin quickened his pace, tip scraping against your walls greedily, and you allowed it. He disconnects your lips to let out a hushed moan, forehead pressed against your own. He wants to be quiet, sure, but that meant he couldn’t fuck you the way he needed to and that wasn’t an option now.

“Shit…” Jimin grunts, nails digging into your thighs. “...fuck you feel so good. You’re such a bitch, Y/N, you don’t deserve to have a pussy this good.”

“Fuck you.” you hiss, clenching around his cock as he pounds it inside of you. It causes Jimin to gasp. You wrap both of your arms around his neck.

Jimin does, thrusts increasing as if to punish you. He lifts his head from touching your forehead to look right at your fucked out expression.

“Milking my cock like a whore. If this is what you wanted the entire time that’s all you had to say” Jimin grumbles, the room erupting in wet skin slapping against one another. He sure hopes no one comes down this hallway.

“You been wanting to fuck me, too.” you retort, head falling back to moan. He fucks you so deeply that your clit rubs against his pelvis each time - and each time did you whimper a little louder. “You’re the one fucking me like you love me.”

Jimin groans, now wrapping his right hand around your waist to keep you still as he continues to pound inside of you.

“I hate you.” Jimin spits, venom laced in his voice.

“I hate you, too.” you repeat, still pulling him closer while you continue to milk his cock. “I still want your cum in me.”

From the outside looking in - if people didn’t know you and Jimin were sworn enemies since the beginning of the school year - it did appear as if he felt some sort of compassion towards you. The way he refuses to let you go as he pounds inside of you, the way your arms wrap firmly around his neck. The little pecks of kisses here and there where you two would groan into one another’s mouth. The short breathy questions of “do you like it, baby?” Jimin would ask and the little, “yes, so much” you would respond with.

It truly didn’t appear like two enemies who hated the other’s soul would fuck so passionately. Yet, this sexual tension was years in the making. Jimin wouldn’t admit that he found you attractive prior to him subscribing to you just like you wouldn’t either.

“Play with yourself while I fuck you.” says Jimin, lips against yours. “Cum all over my cock like I know you’ve been desperate to do.”

“You never get tired of watching me play with myself.” you joke, but you didn’t protest the matter. You unhook your arms from Jimin’s neck and he allowed you to lay back a bit so you could. 

“Isn’t that what I pay you monthly for?” Jimin retorts smugly, his eyes watching as you place your fingers back onto your already sensitive clit. “Those gifts you get aren’t cheap.”

You know, you think. The lingerie set is the finest quality you’ve ever received - you wouldn’t tell him that, however.

“I know…” you sigh out, fingers twirling rapidly onto your clit. “Thank you.”

Knitting his brows, Jimin scoffs. That’s the first time he’s heard you thank him. 

Jimin decides to ignore you instead of telling you that he had more lingerie sets he thought would look nice on you. Then he’d sound like Jungkook - and he wasn’t a simp like him.

Your pussy was taking him far too well, Jimin grunts. There’s milky cream gushing onto his cock as he watches you, thrust turning sloppy. Your pussy clenches and unclenches around him while your thighs shake to be shut - something he wasn’t going to allow.

You’re cumming hard, your fluttering shut as your fingers lazily rub along onto your clit for added overstimulation. Your voice is a mere hushed whisper of “oh my god’s” and “fuck’s” that has Jimin going over the edge of how fucking whorish you look and sound; and the fact that it was him having you like this.

“Gonna cum in you…” Jimin groans, squeezing his eyes shut as he coats your womb entirely with his cum.

Your back hits the cold desk, chest heaving. Your body is entirely warm and the cool surface does nothing to lower your body temperature. You can feel the warm substance of his cum inside of you and you swallow.

Jimin’s head falls back as he attempts to catch his breath. He releases himself from you, assuring that you didn’t fall off the desk when he takes a step back

The high dies down and the two of you are quiet for the most part. Jimin pulls his pants back up and glances your way. 

“Are you okay?” Jimin brings himself to say, slightly through gritted teeth. You haven’t moved from the desk yet.

“Yes.” you respond meekly. 

Jimin scoffs. He picks up your discarded clothes from the ground and places them beside you. Jimin gives you a quick glance. “There’s…this cafe.” he grits once more, as if it was hurting him to speak with you. “That we can go to.”

“Good pussy got you asking me out on a date?” you ask, a teasing tone in your voice that has you giggling after you speak. You lift yourself into a seated position to look at the man.

“Fuck you.” Jimin hisses, a tint to his cheeks. “Good dick had you sprawled out on the desk.” he retorts. “It’s not a date, either.”

“Good, because,” you smile. “I hate you.”

“I hate you, too.” Jimin shrugs, a twitch upward of his own lips.

Kinktober Masterlist | Ungodly Hour Masterlist

[phantomwithbreakfast]

FORBIDDEN LOVE

DP Phanfic story.

Oh well.

Here’s a teaser from chapter 07 - Actions and Reactions

(You can read the whole chapter or the whole story on FanFiction.net—not finished yet—currently working on chapter 08)

———————

Teaser loading…

Summary:

Pitch Pearl (coming soon into the story — so that’s a spoiler I guess).

Trigger Warning {Bullying and Harassment — Violence — Emotional Distress — Strong Language}

I rated it as T, but I think maybe it has to be M, I don’t know.

—

Danny’s heart sank, his fingers trembling as he tapped on Tucker’s message, revealing the link. Dread pooled in his stomach, coiling tighter with every second. Another picture. Another post. His chest felt heavy as the image loaded, and there it was—the photo Mikey had snapped of him in class earlier this week.

In the photo he was smiling, cheeks flushed, clearly blushing while looking at his phone. The caption beneath it read:


Mikey’s post:


“Definitely dating Phantom ;)”


The floor seemed to drop out from under Danny as he stared at the picture. His heart pounded in his chest, the rush of anger mixing with heavy embarrassment. How could things get worse? How could Mikey do this just for attention?


Danny clenched his phone so hard it nearly slipped out of his grip. Clout. Mikey did this for clout, for likes, for the attention of being the guy who ’exposed’ Danny. He wasn’t even sure if Mikey believed any of it, but that didn’t matter. The damage was done. The post was already gaining traction, with comments popping up beneath it like wildfire.


Danny’s blood boiled. His vision blurred with frustration, his body tensing as his mind raced. He could feel his ghost core stirring inside him, reacting to the emotional storm building in his chest. This wasn’t just embarrassing—it was humiliating. He wanted to scream. He wanted to disappear. Most of all, he wanted to stop Mikey from making everything worse.


He glanced at the comments below, his hands trembling.


FootballKing01: “Knew it! Fentgay’s been hiding this the whole time. #PhantomDating #Exposed”


CreepyMcCreepFace: “OMG I knew he had a secret life! What a freak!”


PhantomFanboyKW: “No surprise here. Fenton’s a loser either way.”


WestonWS: "No, it can't be! I'm telling you, Fenton is Phantom!"


Danny’s stomach turned, the heat rising in his face. His heart raced as the rage built up inside him. How dare Mikey post this without permission? How dare he mock Danny like that for a few likes? Didn’t he know what this could do to him? Didn’t he know how dangerous this was? The connection between him and Phantom was getting closer to being exposed with each post like this.
He felt the familiar icy cold pulse of his ghost core reacting to his emotions, but he gritted his teeth, forcing himself to stay calm. He couldn’t let Phantom take over, not here, not like this. But he was tired—tired of being picked on, tired of having his privacy violated.


Danny threw his phone down onto the bed, sitting up in frustration. His fists clenched at his sides as the anger bubbled over. How was he going to fix this? How could he possibly stop this spiral?

———————

Made in ProCreate. Drawings + GIF

DP copyright/rights, belongs to Nickelodeon.

So. If I don’t draw Danny like… angry, he looks so… weird. 😭

I draw scenes to get a vision of the situation. (Duh)

And if I may be honest, this specific story I’m writing hits me very personal. Just trying to get over my PTSD here! (the bullying parts)! So it’s kind of therapy I guess.

[cimmanonrowl]

In the right time, maybe.

Prologue | Chapter Navigation

Pairing: dbf!aaron hotchner x bfd!reader

Theme: angst

Contents: pure angst, age gap, older guy x young woman relationship, forbidden love.

A harsh slap landed on your cheek.

For all you know, you’d seen that one coming— yet the impact of your mother’s palm forced your head to the side. It made your eyes well, your ears ringing with the pain. Your knees were already bruised from the long contact with the cold marble floor. Never in your life have you thought of kneeling to someone but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. Not when you had finally gathered the courage to face your parents, not when you’re one step closer to your freedom.

“Break up with that scum,” your mother repeated through gritted teeth, her voice sharp, cutting through the air like a knife. “Cut this nonsense right now, and for once listen to me!”

“I am not breaking up with Aaron,” your voice trembled as you let out a shaky breath. You refused to let the tears fall. No, you will not cry in front of them. “I love him, Mom.”

Your mother’s expression twisted with disgust, her hand still trembling from the force of the slap. “Don’t make me laugh, silly girl. You don’t know what love is,” she spat. “You’re just a child! You can’t see it, but that man was just using you!”

Your heart pounded against your chest, the words cutting deep, but you knew she was wrong. Aaron wasn’t like that. No, he isn’t like that— he wasn’t using you, he loved you. You felt it in the softness of his touch, in every whispered word he spoke. You knew she was lying because you perfectly remember how his gaze cradled you, as if you were the most precious thing in his life.

“You’re wrong, Mom,” you said firmly, shaking your head and blinking away the tears in your eyes.

Your mother barked an insulting laugh. “I’m wrong? And what do you know about love, huh? What do you know about love that you know I’m wrong?”

“And I suppose you do?”

The words slipped out of your mouth before you could stop them. 

Then there was a pause, and someone’s strangled sob reverberating in the spacious living room you soon recognized as your own. There was no mistaking the pain in your chest. This is too much to bear. It’s too painful to handle. The tears you had been fighting finally spilled over. While your mother’s eyes widened in shock, a dangerous flicker of rage sparking in them.

“And what the hell does that mean?”

“You don’t know what love is—” you swallowed the bile in your throat, tears streaming down your cheeks, heaving to take a deep breath. “You and Dad… we’re not like you. You don’t laugh with each other, you don’t talk... you go to bed angry! You shout at each other! But not Aaron, Mommy… Aaron never let me feel sad. He always tells me he loves me… even when I hurt him…”

With trembling voice, you reasoned out. With the pain in your chest, you took in the disgust and anger in your parents’ faces. It took you all the courage to not back down. Not this time. You reminded yourself of the years you spent too long bending to their will, suffocating under the weight of their expectations. But you weren’t going to let them take this away from you—not Aaron, not the love that had given you the strength to finally stand up for yourself.

“He’s too old for you,” for the first time that evening, your father finally spoke. The coldness seeping in his voice was punctuated with authority that always made you feel small and powerless. “You will end this… this foolishness with Aaron, and you will do it tonight.”

You could feel your resolve wavering under his intense gaze, but you forced yourself to stay strong. “I can’t do that,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. But even as the words left your lips, you felt the weight of them settle in the room like a stone. “I won’t do that., Daddy. I’m sorry.”

“Do you even hear yourself?” your mother hissed, her voice rising with each word. “Do you hear how ridiculous you sound? You’re throwing away everything—for what? For a man who’s old enough to be your father?”

“It doesn’t matter,” you argued still. “Not to me. I’m legal age. I can make decisions for myself. And I know you don’t understand, but I do. Aaron loves me. He’s not using me, he’s not—”

Your mother cut you off with a sharp gesture, her hand slicing through the air. You almost flinched with the thought that she was going to slap you again. 

“Stop it! Stop saying that nonsense! Do you think he’s going to stay with you? You think he’s going to give up his bachelor life for a girl like you?” she let out a mocking laugh. “You’re nothing to him, sweetheart, don’t you see that? You’re just a… a distraction. A pretty little thing he can toss aside when he’s bored!”

But no amount of hateful words would shake your belief in Aaron. “You’re wrong, Mom,” you repeated, more firmly this time. “You don’t know him like I do. He loves m–”

“He will leave you when he’s had his fill of your innocence.”

“No, he won’t!”

“And how sure are you?”

“He’s my best friend. He’s supposed to look after you and look at what he’s done.”

You turned to your father, eyes rimmed red from all the tears. “And what did he do exactly, Daddy?”

“He took advantage of you! You– he turned you into this! He knew you were fucking naive!”

That ruptured right through your soul; the insinuation that you didn’t know what you were doing, as if that alone was reason enough to end things. That Aaron was too old for you. And he took advantage of you because in their eyes, you’ve always been the catered, spoiled little kid.

“I’m not! Don’t talk about him like that, Dad!”

“I will talk to him the way I please!” he spat angrily. “I will kill that man, just so you wait!”

“But Daddy, I love him!” you cried, the words bursting out of you with desperation you couldn’t hold back any longer. Tears ran down your cheeks in hot, angry streams. “I love him, Daddy. Please, listen to me…”

“Love?” your mother crossed her arms, the word dripping with disdain. “You think this is love? You’re too young to even understand what love is. This is disgusting. Do you really think he’ll still want you when you’re not this naive little girl anymore? When the thrill is gone?”

Your tears came faster now, uncontrollable, as you looked up at her, your heart breaking not just from the pain of the slap, but from the realization that she could be so cruel, so dismissive of your feelings. They were not even trying to hear you out.

“He’s not like that…” you sobbed, your voice breaking. “He’s not using me. He loves me, too! Why can’t you see that?”

“Because it’s not love!” your mother snapped, her voice rising again, shrill with frustration and something else— fear, maybe, or desperation. “It’s not real, and it’s not going to last. You’re going to ruin your life over this stupidity!”

It almost sounded like she’s trying to convince herself more than you.

Your father stepped forward, his shadow falling over as he towered above you, his expression cold, unyielding. “This ends tonight,” he said, his voice low but firm. “You’re not seeing him anymore. We’ll make sure of it.”

Panic surged through you at his words, the finality of them. You crawled closer, your hands clasping together in a desperate plea. “You can’t do that, Daddy! Don’t do this to me, please.”

You glanced at your mother, but she just looked away, her expression hardening as she steeled herself against your pleas. “We’re doing what’s best for you, even if you hate us for it.”

“I don’t hate you,” your voice cracked as you knelt before them, your tears falling freely now. “I just… I love him, Mommy. Why is that so wrong?”

“Because it is,” your father said, his tone leaving no room for argument. “This is over. You’ll thank us someday when you’ve forgotten all about him, and when you marry someone your age- from a proper and respectable family.”

But you knew, deep in your heart, that you would never forget. The love you felt for Aaron was real, and it consumed you in a way you couldn’t explain. He caused this chaos you willingly embraced. And as you knelt there, trembling with the weight of their words, you felt more trapped and alone than you ever had in your life.

The tears kept flowing, but they didn’t seem to soften your parents’ resolve. 

You looked up at your father, your vision blurred by tears. “And if I don’t?” you whispered, fear gnawing at the edges of your defiance.

“You really have no idea what you’re doing, do you?” your mother interjected. “Do you understand the uproar this will cause? The disgrace you’ll bring to this family? To our name?”

“Why do I have to care about them? This is about me!”

“You stupid girl!”

You knew what she was talking about. The standing of your family in the society. You were part of the elite, the upper crust, where every action, every decision, was scrutinized under a microscope. You were expected to be perfect, to uphold the family’s reputation, to follow the path that had been laid out for you since birth. A path that did not include falling in love with your father’s best friend.

“I can’t, Dad…” you whispered, barely audible. “I won’t.”

“Then I will make sure you never see him again,” your father said, each word heavy with threat. “You won’t have a choice.”

“W-what will you do, Dad?”

“I will pull every string I could land my hands on and send him away,” you knew your father was a man of his word. “I will send him to Iraq, to Pakistan, to fucking Iran if I have to, and get him killed there. You think I can’t do that?”

You bowed your head, your tears falling silently onto the marble floor. You knew that nothing you said would change their minds. They had made their decision, and you were powerless to fight it.

But even as you rose shakily to your feet, the sting of your mother’s slap still lingering, you couldn’t stop thinking of Aaron. His face, his voice, the way he held you in your sleep, the way his eyes crinkle at the corner with his lame jokes, how he works hard to fulfill his promises, and all the mornings you’d feel him kiss your forehead as he thought you were still asleep. You’d never forget the way he made you feel alive and seen in a way no one else ever had.

And those memories lingered after seven years had passed.

The hospital air was sterile and cold, and the heavy smell of antiseptic was making the throbbing in your head more palpable. You stepped out of your father’s hospital room, your heart heavy with the weight of seeing him so frail, so unlike the powerful man he once was. The beeping machines, the rushed footsteps echoing outside in the hallways—it all felt surreal, like you were moving through a bad dream you couldn’t wake up from.

Your attention drifted to your phone when you felt if buzz in your hand, pulling you back to reality. It was a text from your boyfriend. You hesitated for a moment before opening it, hoping it was some kind of reassurance. But as you read his words, your heart sank even more.

I’m sorry, babe. Work is crazy right now. I can’t get away.

You swallowed hard, feeling the familiar sting of disappointment. You’ve been through this with him before, always the same excuses, the same apologies that left you feeling emptier each time. 

With a sharp sigh, you dialed his number, the phone pressed to your ear as you stepped away from the room, needing space, needing air.

“This is important,” you said as soon as he answered, your voice strained. “My father’s in the hospital. He’s… he’s not doing well. I need you here.”

There was a pause on the other end, and you could almost hear him weighing his options, trying to decide how to soften yet another blow. “I know, and I’m sorry,” he finally said, his tone frustratingly calm. “But I’ve got this big project—”

“A project?” you cut him off, incredulous. “My father might be dying, just so you know. And you’re telling me you’re too busy with a project?”

“It’s not just a project, it’s—look, I’ll come as soon as I can, okay? Just… not right now.”

“What the fuck does that mean? Get your ass on the very first flight tomorrow morning and meet me here.”

“I can’t do that, babe. I’m sorry…” he apologized, his voice dripping with softness that only made you even more nauseated. “I’ll come visit once my schedule is clear, okay?”

The frustration heightened in your chest, tightening around your heart. “Are you serious right now?” you repeated, your voice trembling. “We’re talking about my father. This is the man who raised me. And I’m here alone, trying to hold it together, and you can’t even show up? Are you fucking serious?”

“I said I’ll come later!” He snapped, his patience clearly wearing thin. Well, he’s not known for his patience, anyway. “Why are you making such a big deal out of this?”

“Because it is a big deal!” you shouted, the words echoing down the empty corridor. “You’re supposed to be my boyfriend. You’re supposed to care about what I’m going through!”

“Just because you’re frustrated doesn’t mean you can pour it down on me. It’s not fair, babe.”

“What the fuck did you just say?!”

There was a heavy silence on the other end, the kind that tells you you’ve crossed a line. “I’m sorry,” he finally said, his voice cold now. You just know he didn’t even mean his apology. “But I can’t drop everything in a snap. We’ll talk about this later. Bye, I love you.”

Before you could even respond, or register the words he said, the call ended. You stared at the screen, your hand trembling with the urge to throw the phone across the hall. But you didn’t. Instead, you took a deep breath (the way someone taught you in the past), closed your eyes, and tried to steady yourself. Even when you feel like the whole world was crumbling beneath your feet.

When you opened your eyes, though, you saw that someone standing a few feet away, watching you. He appeared like a product of your feeble imagination. But you felt your throat tighten, your heart skipping a beat as you recognized who it really was.

Aaron.

Seven years have passed since that night, since the conversation you had with your parents, and the last time you ever saw him. Seven years of trying to forget, to move on, to build a life that didn’t revolve around him. You tried for your life to go on. And for some time, you did well. You could even say your parents were happy with your decisions… for once.

But now, with him standing there in the stark hospital hallway, all the memories came rushing back, overwhelming you with waves of emotions you were not prepared to face.

He looked different now. The years have etched lines into his face, and there was a hardness in his expression that wasn’t there before. His eyes, once so warm when they looked at you, are colder now, distant. And as he stepped closer, you could feel the tension radiating off him, like he didn’t care about your existence.

“Hey,” even his voice was different, it carried an edge and coldness that you don’t remember hearing before. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

Your heart clenched at the tone. “Aaron...” you finally managed to say, your voice barely above a whisper. “Ah, yes, I just landed last night. What... what are you doing here?”

He shrugged, probably as politely as he could, his eyes flicking to your phone, still clenched in your hand. “Heard about your father,” he said, his tone flat. “Thought I’d come to check on him. He’s an old… friend, after all.”

“Of course…” you cleared your throat. “That’s so nice of you.”

“Not like it’s the first time he’s been in the hospital, though, right?”

The comment stung, and you flinched, feeling the bitterness behind his words. “It’s different this time,” you struggled to keep your voice steady. “He’s not doing well, and I—”

“And you what?” Aaron interrupted, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Needed someone to lean on? Thought your boyfriend would be here for that.”

The bitterness in his tone is impossible to miss now, and it cut through you like a knife. You felt a surge of defensiveness rise up, mingled with shame. “He’s just busy,” the words sounded hollow even to your own ears as you defended him. “He’s got work—”

“Work?” Aaron repeated, his voice laced with disbelief. “Your father’s in the hospital, and he can’t even bother to show up?”

The harshness of his words made you wince, but you couldn’t deny the truth in them. So, instead, you looked down, unable to meet his eyes. “He said he’d come later,” you mumbled, feeling the familiar weight of disappointment settle in your chest.

“Right,” Aaron muttered, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Later. Sure.”

You ignored that. “And my mom… she’s coming later, too. She was on a cruise… so...”

You wanted to defend your boyfriend, to explain, but the words won’t come out. Because deep down, you know Aaron was right. And standing here, in front of the man you once loved, the man who was always there for you without a single beat of hesitation, it felt like the weight of your choices was crashing down on you all at once.

Maybe your life didn’t go on better than you hoped.

Than you made yourself believe.

“Aaron, I…” you started, but your voice faltered as you looked up at him, seeing the anger in his eyes, the hurt that he was trying so hard to mask. “Aren’t you busy? You still… you still work with the Beareu, I assume?”

He watched you with piercing eyes. “We just finished a case,” he admitted, his voice softer now, though still tinged with bitterness. “But when I heard about your dad… I couldn’t just ignore it.”

“T-thanks. Did you hear that I wa–”

“I’m not here for you.”

The words hit you like a punch to the gut, and you had to force yourself to stay upright, to not let him see how deeply they affected you. “Of course,” you whispered, your throat tight with embarrassment. “But… thank you for coming. For checking on him.”

Aaron nodded and didn’t say anything else.

But there was so much you wanted to say, so many things you wish you could go back and change, and the wall between you was built too high, too thick. While Aaron stood there, his expression guarded, you realized that the man you once knew was no longer the same. 

The years have changed him, hardened him in ways you never imagined.

“I’ll go check on him. Excuse me,” he said, the words carrying a finality that leaves no room for anything more. 

Without waiting for a response, he walked past you and entered your father’s room, his footsteps echoing down the corridor, leaving you standing outside alone. Aaron never left you by yourself. The weight of everything unsaid pressed down on you is like a crushing burden.

You looked over your shoulder and watched him disappear. That was when everything hit you. The man you loved may still be there; the same kind and loving man who was more than willing to go out of his way for the people he cares about… but he’s different now, distant in a way that feels irreversible. 

And as the tears you’ve been holding back finally spilled over, you wondered if maybe this is the universe’s way of telling you that some things really are better left in the past. That you will heal— in the right time, maybe.

Note: The next chapters may contain r18+ scenes and proper tags will be administered accordingly. But even if this is not fully a smut fic, I don't want to see any minor, please.

PS., Do me a favor and listen to Taylor Swift's 'But Daddy I Love Him' for the sake of me causing havoc. This was also inspired by 'The Notebook' if you guys saw the reference. Also, this one is dedicated to @thatlittlered. I'm not sure they remember me (But I do!) And this might not be a-100k fic as you requested but you did inspire me to write with this theme, so thank you!

As always, I appreciate every like, reblog, and replies! Hope everyone's good and hydrated! Drink your water! xx

Tag list: @downbad4reid, @roseydoesypoesy, @pastelpinkflowerlife, @justyourusualash, @hotchsmutrecs, @msfreedom, @birdysaturne, @gghostwriter, @mrs-ssa-hotch, @fore45fore, @actualdeemon, @diksy1112, @jethro-mcgee-tony, @hotchnerbau, @iniyalovesall, @222hwilsss, @balariie, @oliviabbb, @ncis0mrs0gibbs, @jasonswhitetuftofhair, @m4pl

[mrsbuckybarnes1917]

3: COMPANY

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Bucky wants his best friends to get to know his girlfriend but a little voice makes him worry that there may be more going on between you and Steve.

Word count: 2.5k

Warning: miscommunications and Bucky Barnes being a colossal idiot (theme of this whole story)

Steve and Bucky walked down the corridor towards the large living room with the massive television screen. Their arms laden with drinks and snacks for themselves, you and Priya. Bucky wanted his best friends to get to know his girlfriend better and you'd begrudgingly agreed to a movie night, comforted by the knowledge that Steve would be present as a buffer for awkward questions.

Steve was smiling softly, happy to be able to relax with the people he cared most about without being interrupted to save the world. His self imposed responsibilities weighed heavily on his mind. Distractions where he could be Steve and not Captain America were hard to find. One of the things he loved about you and Bucky was that you both were his voice of reason, between the two of you, you would argue different sides of a point, until he was happy with the decision he had made. This was why seeing the two of you as a team made him so happy.

You had made yourself comfortable on yours and Bucky's favorite couch. It was just big enough for you and the beefy super soldier and in your mind, you imagined yourself and Bucky being comfortable under a throw blanket while you watched the movie. Your day dream was shattered as Priya dropped into the seat beside you.

"Oh gosh, this is so comfortable! Such a cuddle couch." She elbowed your side gently. "Hey, you think Bucky and I could sit here for the movie?"

It took every inch of your self control to stop a scowl from marring your features. "Sorry to be all Sheldon about this, but this is kinda my spot."

"Oh, yeah, I get it." She didn't, looking at you like she was indulging one of her young patients who was throwing a tantrum. “Do you mind if I sit until Jamie and Steve get back?”

"Sure." You tried to keep the sarcasm to a minimum. You had to play nice, for Bucky's sake.

"Hey Cricket, can I ask you something?" Priya’s voice was slightly hesitant.

"Course. What is it?" You replied. But you had a strong feeling you weren’t going to like what she was going to ask you and steeled yourself for it.

"Do you and Jamie have any history of being more than… just friends?"

"No." You suppressed a sigh. You had expected an annoying comment, as opposed to something that would break your heart all over again. "No, just friends. Why’d you ask?" You felt suspicious of her line of questioning.

"Oh, I was just curious. I know you're not his type and all, so I wasn't very worried about it, but I figured there's always a possibility." She shrugged.

"Bucky and I have never been anything more than friends." You confirmed through gritted teeth, and it was killing you.

"Okay," Priya smiled happily. "That makes me feel better. I really like him, and I just wanted to make sure there weren't any lingering feelings between you two."

"I'm happy for you," you lied through a smile.

"Thanks, Cricket. I appreciate that. And I'm glad we had this conversation, it's always good to clear the air."

"Absolutely."

"Thanks for being so understanding. You're a great friend, I’m glad that James and I have you."

Steve and Bucky as they paused momentarily, not wanting to interrupt your conversation, but at the same time, curious about what you were saying. They both felt a little awkward for eavesdropping but they didn’t feel comfortable making their presence known. Steve glanced over at Bucky, wondering what his reaction would be, but Bucky’s face was bathed in darkness and impossible to read.

When Priya said she was glad to have you as a friend, Steve nudged him gently. "Come on," he jerked his head, urging Bucky to follow. He walked into the lounge and deposited the snacks on the table in front of you and Priya.

"Thanks, Steve!" you reached forwards to grab a bowl of popcorn, but Bucky was blocking you. You swatted his legs playfully. "Buck! What’re you doing?"

"Cricket, can you move over a bit so I can sit with Priya?" Bucky looked at you with wide eyes and pouty lips. How could you say no?

Reluctantly, you got off the couch, Bucky giving you a questioning frown as you did so. You shuffled over and settled in next to Steve, feeling a stab of disappointment that Bucky had chosen to sit with Priya instead of you.

"Did you ladies pick a movie?" Steve asked.

You shook your head, but Priya volunteered a suggestion in a heartbeat. "You've Got Mail!"

Steve pulled up the film from Tony’s endless supply of media and hit play. As the movie started, you tried to focus on the screen, but your eyes kept gazing over to Priya and Bucky and how his arm was draped cozily over her shoulder. Your mind kept wandering back to the conversation you just had with Priya. You couldn’t help but wish that there had been more between you and your best friend. What made her think that you weren’t his type? You bristled at the thought. Bucky had never expressed his preferences to a woman’s appearance. Had he mentioned something to her?

Steve noticed your distraction and leaned over to whisper in your ear. "Are you okay?"

You nodded, trying to push aside your feelings of jealousy and insecurity. "I’m fine," you whispered back. "Just a little tired."

Steve gave you a knowing look, but didn’t press the issue. Instead he wrapped an arm around your shoulders, offering you comfort and support. As the movie played on, you found yourself leaning into Steve’s side, feeling safe and protected in his presence. You couldn’t help but wonder what could have been if things had been different between you and Bucky.

As you and Steve turned back to the movie, Priya leaned towards Bucky and whispered to him conspiratorially. "I think Cricket and Steve make such a cute couple, don't you think? They looked so cozy on their Coney Island date!"

Bucky looked down at her with surprise. It wasn’t as though he hadn’t feared that you and Steve might be more than friends, but it shocked him that other people considered it. As long as he was the only one to think it, he could have lived in denial, but having someone else voice it with such confidence made his skin crawl.

"Um, I don't know. They seem to get along well as friends."

"Oh come on, Jamie. I can see the way they look at each other. We should totally set them up! I mean look how he has his arm around her!" 

Bucky hummed with hesitation. "I don't think that's a good idea, Priya."

"Why not? They would be perfect together!"

"I just...I don't think it's the right time for them to start dating." Bucky answered, not avoiding eye contact, his eyes glued to Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan.

Priya was starting to sense that something was off. "Jamie, is there something you're not telling me?"

"Look, Steve doesn’t really talk to people about this, but he had a girl, back in the 40s, Peggy. He isn’t over her. It wouldn’t be fair to either of them to enter a relationship when Steve still has feelings for Peggy." Bucky winced internally, hating himself for using Steve’s past to cover for himself.

"Wow, I had no idea," Priya said softly, her eyes widening in surprise. "That must be really tough for him."

Bucky nodded, feeling a pang of guilt for using Steve’s past as an excuse. "Yeah, it’s been hard for him. He’s never really gotten over her."

Priya looked thoughtful for a moment before turning back to Bucky. "Well, I’m glad you told me. I wouldn’t want to cause any unnecessary drama. They're lucky to have you looking out for them."

Bucky gave her a terse smile, grateful that she understood. "No problem. I just want what’s best for both of them."

As the movie came to an end, you and Steve exchanged a look, both of you feeling a sense of contentment and comfort in each other’s presence. Despite the awkwardness and tension that had filled the room earlier, you were grateful for the friendship and support that you had in each other. Unfortunately for the two of you, your closeness did nothing to assuage the envy that burned deep inside Bucky.

As everyone got up to leave, Priya turned to you and Steve with a smile. "Thanks for the movie night, guys. I had a great time."

You and Steve both nodded, returning her smile. "Anytime," you said, feeling a sense of relief that the night had gone smoothly.

As you and Steve walked out of the living room together, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of gratitude for having him by your side. Maybe things weren’t meant to be with Bucky, but you knew that you had a true friend in Steve, someone who would always be there for you no matter what.

On the other hand, Bucky went to bed that night with Priya’s words burned on the back of his brain. Why did she think that there might have been something between him and you? She had worsened his fears about you and Steve. Would his oldest friend really betray his trust that way? Surely you would have mentioned that to him, wouldn’t you? The tiny voice in his head that sounded just like you, asked him why he would assume such a thing, since he had hidden his relationship for so long. 

*

Your voice of conscience in his mind did nothing to mitigate his turbulent thoughts. In fact they swirled around his brain until he found himself confronting you about them. This was becoming too common an occurrence. He blurted out the words while he found you training in the gym.

"You went to Coney Island with Steve." He tried to sound nonchalant as he spotted you with your weights.

You grunted your response, trying to stand up with the heavy weight balanced across your shoulders. Eyes screwed shut with the effort of pushing your knees apart to push yourself upright. You panted slightly, trying to recover your composure, but Bucky wasn’t ready to give up on his point.

"Why didn’t you tell me you were going?"

"Oh, I’m sorry," you attempted a shrug before going back into a squat. "It was Steve’s idea and honestly, I didn’t think it was a big deal since you were busy with Priya."

"It is a big deal! We promised we'd go together."

Your face dropped slightly as you stood up, remembering the promise you’d made almost a year ago. Things had been so chaotic and you’d forgotten about it. You put the barbell back on the rack before replying. "I know, and I was really looking forward to it." There was a sadness in your tone that you couldn’t hide. "But when you started dating Priya, I thought things had changed. I didn’t think you’d care."

"That doesn’t mean we can’t still hang out. You’re my best friend, too." Bucky leaned against the rack, as you busied yourself with unloading the bar.

"I know, and I’m sorry." You hid your face as you answered. "I just felt left out when you didn’t tell me about Priya."

"I’m sorry, I know I should’ve told you. But seeing you at Coney Island with Steve really hurt."

"Wait," you spun around with surprise. "You saw me at Coney Island?"

"Yeah…" Bucky’s anger abated slightly as he realized what he was saying to you.

You huffed. "You were there?"

Bucky had the decency to look ashamed.

"And you’re getting on my case? I mean Steve took me there as a surprise to cheer me up after I got sick. I didn’t decide to go there without you. And it’s not like Steve knew about our promise. What were you doing there, Bucky?"

Bucky sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I was there with Priya. We were on a date."

You felt a pang of jealousy and hurt, but you pushed it down but the aggression in your tone was unmistakable. "I see. Well, I’m sorry if I upset you by being there with Steve. But I'd like to point out that you didn't seem to have any issues going with Priya."

Bucky looked at you, his expression softening. "I’m sorry, Cricket. I should’ve told you about Priya - about Coney Island, about dating her. I didn’t want to hurt you. I just…"

You nodded, feeling a mix of emotions swirling inside you. "It’s okay, Bucky. Just…next time, can you please just be honest with me?"

"Yeah," Bucky nodded. "and hey, you'd tell me if you were, right? As in dating… someone."

"Yeah, I'll keep you apprised." You rolled your eyes and shook your head with a small laugh.

"Even if it was Steve?"

“Why do you keep asking me that? Are you trying to set me up with Steve? Because I don't have those kinds of feelings for him.”

“You don’t? Because Priya said-”

"Bucky, why don't you ask me about me instead of your girlfriend?" The irritation you'd felt about his indignation earlier rose inside you again, enough that you decided to walk away from it.

He caught up to you outside the gym, heart pounding in his chest. "Hey, Cricket," he called out, his voice filled with sincerity. "I’m sorry for how I acted back there. I was wrong, and I shouldn’t have let my jealousy get the best of me. Can we talk?"

You turned to face him, your expression guarded but curious. "What do you want to talk about, Bucky?"

Bucky took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts. "I want to apologize for not being upfront with you. I value our friendship, and I don’t want to lose that because of my own insecurities. I’m sorry for hurting you… and I want to make things right."

You studied him for a moment, your eyes searching his handsome face for sincerity. The way he looked back at you softened your resolve and after a moment, you nodded. “I appreciate your apology, Bucky. Let’s move past this and focus on our friendship.”

Bucky nodded, a small smile tugging at his lips, feeling a weight lift off his shoulders as he heard your words. "Of course. And hey, maybe we can still go to Coney Island together sometime. Just the two of us."

You smiled back, feeling a sense of relief wash over you. "I’d like that."

Bucky fell in step beside you, as you walked away from the gym, the tension between you slowly dissipating. He knew he had a lot of work to do to rebuild the trust between you, but he was willing to put in the effort. He was grateful for your forgiveness and determined to show you that he was a true friend, even if he couldn't have anything more.

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