#decided to go for a more light-hearted tone with this one- hope you don’t mind the extra character appearances ^^;

[robo-milky]

Question for Chole, of you had magic, what would be your Unique magic?

[Cloche’ Birthday Bash]

[shyshyshyz]

Fading Embers

Summary: As the tension between Piltover and Zaun rises, Jinx finds herself caught between vengeance and something unfamiliar—love. Her connection with you is one of the only things grounding her, yet the walls she’s built make it nearly impossible for her to trust. But with threats around every corner, Jinx finds herself facing the ultimate choice: to push you away or let you in.

W: Violence, angst, references to trauma, swearing, mild fluff in dark setting.

a/n: requests are open btw!! 💗

The murky Zaunite streets were heavy with smoke and sparks, painting the sky a faint shade of orange. You tightened the scarf around your neck, hoping the layers could protect you from the smog—and perhaps even from the emotions rolling inside you. In this world of grime and rust, you were trying to find someone who both intrigued and terrified you.

Jinx.

Even thinking her name stirred something raw within you. She was untamed chaos—a wildfire you were too close to, yet could never step away from. And despite the destruction she left behind, there was something beautiful, even vulnerable, in the ruins of her soul.

Your footsteps echoed as you turned into an alley, the air feeling thicker here, as if every building bore witness to her past. Finally, you spotted her leaning against a wall, her two-toned hair flowing freely, electric blue eyes narrowed in suspicion. The shadows carved her features into sharp relief, making her look more like a vengeful spirit than a human.

“Why are you here?” she asked, voice low, as if the question itself could shatter the fragile silence between you.

“I… I thought you could use some company,” you replied, pulse quickening under her intense gaze. She looked at you like she was deciding whether to trust you or cast you aside, like everyone else had in her life.

“Company, huh?” she muttered, a sly smirk forming. But even her smirk carried a hint of pain. “You know, that’s a dangerous game in Zaun.”

“I’m not afraid of danger,” you replied, crossing your arms. “Not if it means being here with you.”

Jinx scoffed, but you noticed the flicker of surprise in her eyes. Vulnerability was something she hid beneath bravado and chaos, yet, around you, it occasionally peeked through. She took a step forward, the distance between you shrinking as she tilted her head.

“You’ve got a death wish, don’t you?” she whispered, her gaze softening, just for a moment.

“Maybe,” you whispered back, “if it means understanding you. The real you.”

Her laughter echoed down the alley, harsh and unsteady, as if the notion itself was a joke. Yet, there was something genuine there—a slight crack in her mask.

But the laughter faded fast, her face hardening again as she turned away, her fingers twitching restlessly. “There’s no real me,” she said, barely a murmur. “Just a ghost, someone who doesn’t know who she is anymore.”

You reached out, hesitating before your hand brushed against her shoulder. “You’re more than that, Jinx. More than a ghost. There’s light in you, even if you can’t see it yet.”

She flinched under your touch, her body tensing. She was like a live wire, on edge, every muscle ready to fight or flee. But she didn’t pull away. “You don’t get it,” she whispered, almost to herself. “People around me… they get hurt.”

Your heart clenched, hearing the regret in her voice. “Then let me choose. I’m not here because I have to be. I’m here because I want to be.”

Jinx turned to face you, her expression unreadable. Her blue eyes, flickering with unspoken feelings, met yours with a weight that felt like it could crush you. But then, unexpectedly, her hand found yours, a rare gesture of trust. Her fingers were cold and unsteady, yet the contact felt more intimate than anything she could say.

In the silence, you could feel her pulse—fast, erratic, like her mind was running a hundred miles a minute, but her hand didn’t let go.

“Guess you really are a fool,” she said, her voice softened, almost gentle.

“Then we’re both fools,” you replied, squeezing her hand.

And for the first time in what felt like an eternity, Jinx’s shoulders relaxed, if only by a fraction. In that fleeting moment, amid the grime and darkness of Zaun, you saw the spark of something fragile yet defiant, something that wanted to be saved but didn’t know how.

[natsaffection]

Mafias Mistress pt. 5 | N.R

MafiaBoss!Natasha x CivilianYounger!Reader

Warnings: 18+! MINORS DNI! Age gap (Natasha is 32 = reader ist 22) BDSM STUFF - Restraints, spanking, flogging, vibrator use, nipple clamp use, edging, overstimulation, strap on (r receive), fingering, choking, rough sex

Word Count: 3,8k

A/N: Pure Smut below..we are slowly coming to the end🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️

You were startled awake by the sound of your bedroom door bursting open. You sit up, eyes widening, and see Natasha standing in the doorway, her expression a mixture of anger and urgency. The morning light casts long shadows in the room, making Natasha's presence even more imposing.

"What do you want?" you ask annoyed. You had hoped for some peace and quiet, but Natasha's sudden appearance dashed that hope.

Natasha walks into the room, her eyes flashing, "I have a high-ranking visitor today. Important people here for business. You are not leaving this room tonight. Do you understand me?"

You crossed your arms, your irritation growing. "And why would I ? Are you afraid of embarrassing you?" Natasha's eyes narrowed. "I'm not in the mood for games, Y/N. If you leave this room tonight, you will suffer the consequences. Serious consequences.”

You feel a spark of defiance flare up inside you. “We’ll see.” Natasha leans closer to you, her voice a deadly whisper. “I’m serious, Y/N. Don’t test me.”

As Natasha leaves the room and slams the door behind her, your mind raced. You knew this was your chance to get revenge on Natasha for the humiliation you endured last night. An idea began to form and a determined smile spread across your face. This time you will win, consequences or not.

As the evening came, the mansion bustled with activity, you made your move. You chose a short, form-fitting dress, the fabric shimmering in the light. It was provocative, designed to attract attention and elicit a reaction from Natasha.

You decided to forget underwear, knowing it would drive Natasha crazy. With one last look in the mirror, you take a deep breath and leave your room. The halls were filled with Natasha's men, their eyes widening in shock and fear when they saw you. You move purposefully, your heart pounding with anticipation.

Maria spots you first, her eyes widening in horror. "Y/N, what are you doing here?" she whispered urgently. "She kill you first and then me. Go back, I mean it."

You grin, your defiance only growing. "Don't worry, Maria. "Just look." As you walked through the mansion, you could feel everyone's eyes on you. The tension in the air was palpable, a mixture of fear and excitement. You finally reach the main hall, where the high-ranking visitors mingle.

Natasha had been speaking to a visitor, a man with a smug expression and a condescending tone. He leaned closer to Natasha, his gaze wandering around. "You know, Natalia, you always manage to keep things interesting. That girl over there," he said, nodding toward you, "looks like she's here to entertain us."

Natasha followed his gaze and her blood froze when she saw you. The dress was short, far too short, and every curve was provocatively accentuated. Natasha's grip on her glass tightened, the warning she had given you earlier ringing in her ears.

"Excuse me for a moment." Natasha walked toward you, handed her glass to a nearby waiter and stopped you in your tracks, "What the hell are you wearing?" Natasha hissed, grabbing your arm and pulling you to the side. The grip was firm, but not painful.

You looked up at her, a mischievous glint in your eyes. "A few thousand of your dollars," you answered casually. "The dress is so short, you don't even have to take it off."

Natasha's eyes sparked with anger and something darker, more primal. You took Natasha's hand and slid it between your thighs. Her breath caught when she realized you weren't wearing any underwear.

"You think this is a game?" Natasha whispered, her voice a mix of anger and desire. "You think you can just walk out of here like that?" Your heart raced, but you kept your composure, "Maybe I do," you answered firmly. "Maybe I wanted to know if it still meant something to you."

Natasha's hand tightened around your thigh, her breath hot against your ear. "Oh, it means something to me," she whispered, her voice full of promise. "But you're playing with fire." Your body shook with anticipation, your pulse quickened. "Maybe I like the heat," you whispered back, your voice barely audible.

Natasha's control wavered, her eyes filled with a mixture of frustration and desire. "You have no idea what you're doing," she said, her voice strained. You leaned closer, your lips touching Natasha's ear. "Then show me," you challenged, your voice a seductive whisper.

For a moment, Natasha's anger seemed to disappear, replaced by a burning desire. She pulled you closer, your bodies pressed together. "You want to play games?" she murmured, her voice a low growl. "Let's play."

You caught your breath as Natasha's hand slid further up your thigh, her touch possessive and tender at the same time. “I’m not afraid of you,” you whispered. “Not anymore.”

Natasha's eyes darkened, her grip tightening. "You should be," she whispered back, her voice a dangerous promise. "Oh, and when I'm done with you, you'll know exactly why."

Just as the tension between you reached its peak, Natasha pulled back abruptly. She signaled to two of her men who were quickly approaching. "Take her to my room," Natasha ordered, her voice cold and commanding. "And make sure she doesn't come out."

The men nodded with serious expressions as they grabbed you by the arms. You struggled against their grip, fear creeping into you as you realized Natasha was serious. The men were rough, dragging you through the mansion to Natasha's private quarters.

"Natasha, hey!" you shouted, your voice shaking. "You can't do that! Natasha!!" But Natasha's face remained a mask of anger and determination. "You wanted to play games, Y/N. Now you'll see what happens."

You were pushed into Natasha's room, the door slamming behind you. The men stood guard outside, their presence a reminder of Natasha's authority. Your heart raced, the reality of the situation sinking in. Shit..

In the silence of the room, you could hear your own heartbeat, fear mixed with lingering desire. You realized you had underestimated Natasha's anger and thought it was all an act. But Natasha's anger was real, and you were now trapped by your own actions.

As the minutes passed, your nervousness grew. You had to find a way to make things right, to maybe calm Natasha down after all. You approached the door and knocked softly. There was no answer, just the oppressive silence and the presence of the guards outside. You sank to the floor, your mind racing.

Hours had passed since Natasha had ordered you to be taken to her room. The villa had gone quiet, the high-ranking visitors gone, leaving an atmosphere of tension and unease. You sat on the edge of the bed, your mind racing with thoughts of Natasha and the consequences of your actions.

Outside, Maria approached cautiously, her voice gentle. "Natasha, you have to calm down. This won't help." Natasha's eyes flashed with anger. "She thinks this is a game, Maria. She doesn't understand the danger she's in."

"Then show her," Maria suggested quietly. "But not as you are now. Talk to her. Help her understand." Natasha looked at her and took a breath. She ran past Maria, "Not today."

The door squeaked open and your heart was in your throat. Natasha stood in the doorway, her expression unreadable, a dark intensity in her eyes. She stepped into the room and closed the door behind her with a soft click. "Natasha," you began, your voice shaking. "I-"

"Enough," Natasha interrupted, her voice cold and commanding. "You've gone far again today." Before you could react, Natasha grabbed your arm and pulled you to your feet. The grip was firm and unyielding, sending a shiver of fear down your spine. "Natasha, please, I'm sorry..." you begged, but Natasha's expression remained hard.

Without a word, Natasha led you down the hallway, never loosening her grip. You descended a staircase you'd never noticed before, the air growing cooler and more threatening with each step.

You reached a heavy wooden door, which Natasha pushed open, revealing a dimly lit room with an array of appliances and devices. It was Natasha's playroom. Bigger, redder and much more equipped than the room in Natasha's apartment.

Adrenaline rushed through you as you realized what was coming. "No, Natasha, wait," you begged, trying to pull away. Natasha's grip tightened, her eyes dark with determination. "You wanted to play games, Y/N. Now you'll see the consequences."

She pulled yourself in front of her so she could look at you. She paused for a moment and looked deep into your eyes. "Do you remember your safe word?"

You blinked, your confusion evident. "Yes," you answered, your voice shaking slightly. "Red." Natasha nodded, a hint of relief crossing her face. "Good. Remember, you can use it anytime. I won't stop otherwise."

She dragged you to a large, imposing X in the middle of the room that was equipped with restraints. With practiced ease, Natasha tied your wrists and ankles to the posts so that you stood stretched out and vulnerable.

Natasha paused, her eyes softening for a moment before she steeled herself. "You have to understand something, Y/N," she said with a low growl. "My world is dangerous. You can't just play games and expect there to be no consequences."

Your heart pounded in your chest, your fear mixed with a strange feeling of anticipation, and you remembered why you got into this situation in the first place. You have a goal.

"Maybe I'll enjoy the consequences?"

Natasha's eyes flickered with emotion, but she remained determined. "We'll see about that," she growled. Her voice held a promise that took your breath away with anticipation. With practiced ease and skill, Natasha leaned forward, running her fingertips along the curve of your arm and down to the soft curve of your chest. "You will learn to submit," she whispered, her fingers playing with the goosebumps that formed before her touch. “What you saw back at home is nothing compared to this."

Your pulse quickened as Natasha moved behind you. You felt the cool touch of a leather whip sliding down your back and couldn't help the involuntary trembling. "Oh, I like that trembling," Natasha cooed in your ear, biting your earlobes. "I'm going to enjoy this more than you..."

The scent of your arousal filled the air, an intoxicating aroma that Natasha didn't want to deny herself. She slid a hand between your thighs and rubbed your wet pussy lips, eliciting a gasp from you, the frightened but eager newcomer.

"Open your mouth," Natasha ordered, her voice rough and commanding. You obediently opened your lips and Natasha slid two fingers into your mouth, rubbing them firmly against your tongue and gums. "You do realize that you're not supposed to like this, right?"

You moaned, filled with a mixture of fear and desire as your body shook in response. With a cruel glint in her eyes, Natasha filled your mouth and with her other hand she pinched and pulled cruelly at your nipples.

"That's it, take it all," Natasha hissed, her voice almost a growl now. "Show me how much you want it." You moaned and your head fell back against the iron cross. You could hear the wetness between your legs dripping onto the smooth leather carpet beneath you.

The sound of the whip falling onto your skin sounded like a gunshot in your ears, sending shocks of pleasure and pain throughout your body. Natasha ran the evil instrument down your back, thighs and buttocks, letting its cruel spikes bite deep into your skin.

You struggled against your bonds, lost somewhere between agony and ecstasy. Natasha paused, her attention lingering on the delicate skin at the crease where your legs met her body. You tensed as you felt a soft feather tickle you, and you broke out in a cold sweat.

“shh,” Natasha whispered, “just feel.” She pulled the feather higher, reaching your quivering sex. Your head fell back in surrender as you squeezed your eyes shut.

You felt the sting of the feather disappear, replaced by the delicate caress of something softer, a feather-light touch just beneath your sex. You winced as Natasha’s lips found the sensitive underside of one of your breasts, sucking and nibbling hungrily.

“Fuck!” you screamed, your hips bucking toward Natasha’s mouth just as she felt the cruel bite of the whip on the exposed curves of your ass. Natasha grinned and dragged the leather instrument teasingly across your folds. “Beg,” she purred, tugging at one of your sensitive nipples with her teeth.

You whimpered and struggled against the bonds as Natasha’s harsh words sent waves of shame and desire through you. "Make me." You gasped, grinning in her face. Natasha ripped the dress off of you, leaving your stomach bare and trembling. Suddenly, cool metal closed around your nipples and a rush of pleasure ran through your body as the metal began to vibrate.

"W-What.." you gasped, struggling against the bonds that pinned you to the cross. Natasha's grin widened at your reaction and she twisted one of the clamps before another low hum filled the air.

"You should hold still while I do that," she purred as she moved the vibrating object over your sensitive clitoris, sending a shiver down your spine.

"No, Natasha! I-I- Too much..!" You tried to catch your breath as the sensations overwhelmed you. The clamps pulled on your sensitive nipples, increasing each touch. "Natasha...please, n-no more!!" you whimpered. But Natasha just laughed softly.

"Oh, my love, we're just getting started," Natasha teased, running her tongue over your heaving breast. She pressed the vibrating object harder against your clit, making your hips twitch helplessly.

"F-FUCK!" you screamed as you writhed in the leather restraints. Your body burned; all reason dissolved in the rush of pleasure. Your legs and chest twitched uncontrollably, seeking any friction to quell the pain that demanded release.

Natasha kept her eyes fixed on your writhing object as she played with the vibrating device, running it up and down your labia and teasing your throbbing clit. With each pass, she felt your desire grow as your resolve weakened. "I-I'm begging you! Ple-ase!" you gasped, your voice a hoarse plea.

Natasha stood there, enjoying the sight of the shaking, exhausted girl before her. For now, she was content to watch you tremble and pant with a deliciously dazed expression on your face.

Natasha growled deep in her throat as she slid her hand between your legs. "Oooh, God-d!" you cried out, your already flushed cheeks glowing even hotter. "You don't need him," Natasha chuckled darkly into the folds of your wet entrance. She enjoyed the way you tensed and writhed against her. "Just me," Natasha teased, pressing her fingers into your heated core in one quick, unyielding motion.

Your eyelids fluttered closed as Natasha mercilessly added a third finger, stretching you wide. Your heart was pounding wildly and your mind was reeling - a dizzying cocktail of pain and rapture.

Natasha seized the opportunity, her lips grasping the sensitive outline of your tight bud as she pushed her fingers deeper inside you. You cried out once more before your orgasm fully took hold, increasing tension gripping your entire body as the waves arched and crashed over you.

Natasha let you ride the wave before she pulled her fingers back. “Your pretty ass is about to be mine." With a quick movement, she ran her nails along the crack of your ass.

"N-No!" you cried, your body tense as Natasha stood behind you. "Relax or it will hurt even more," Natasha ordered, spanking your ass hard. Your body twitched violently, pushing the restraints further.

"Listen carefully," she said, admiring your shaking body from behind, "You will count out loud with each lash of my whip. If you fail, I will start over. Do you understand?"

You whimpered and nodded your head vigorously. Sweat ran down your forehead and you could feel the heat radiating from Natasha's body, the woman's skin seemed to burn. And then came the first lash.

"One," you whispered, your voice barely audible over the blood pounding in your ears. Natasha smiled, her eyelids drooping lazily as she raised the whip high above her head.

A wicked glint danced in her deep green eyes, and you could feel your breath catch in your throat as the whip came down again, landing hard on your trembling, flushed skin.

"Two..." you let out a sigh as a deep, painful throb raced through your body. You weakly struggled to find purchase against the shackles around your wrists and ankles, but it was useless. You had nowhere to go and you had no choice but to hold on.

Your breathing became shallower and more desperate as the seconds ticked by, your head a whirlwind of emotions. Natasha kept her eyes on your beautiful, trembling form as she mercilessly swung her whip, marking your flesh with each strike. Your body arched with each strike, your cries mingling with Natasha's own animalistic growls.

Finally exhausted, she lowered the whip and let it hang limply from her hand. The sickly, sweet smell of sweat and desire hung in the air as Natasha strode toward you, her gaze fixed on the exhausted subordinate's trembling physical form.

With a wicked, lustful grin, Natasha knelt before you and pushed your ankle shackles apart, revealing the pink welts that marked your bottom, still glowing from the cruel discipline you had just endured.

"Would you like to try counting again, my love?" Natasha purred, her voice dripping with malice. You shook your head, your exhausted body desperate and still shaking from the intense burn of the whip.

"I d-don't, I can't...anymore," you said exhaustedly. "We'll see," Natasha's voice sounded cold and threatening above you, as she released your bonds, your arms fell limply to your side and your legs had no strength to hold you up. Natasha caught you and carried you over to a bed.

She leaned closer, examining the marks she had left on your supple skin, then ran her fingers over the angry red lines. "Does it hurt?" Natasha whispered hoarsely in your ear, her warm breath causing goosebumps to rise on your skin. "Answer me," Natasha demanded, her voice harder now. "Do you feel pain?"

"Y-Yes," you whispered dejectedly. "Good." Natasha grinned wildly as she lowered her lips to your neck, placing hot, wet kisses and leaving little love bites. You whimpered softly, throwing your head back as you arched to meet Natasha's exploring lips.

With a harsh giggle, Natasha grabbed your thighs and opened them wide. You gasped as the cold air rose and hit your heated core. A deep blush flooded your cheeks as Natasha kissed your inner thighs, eliciting a moan from her submissive.

"Look at you," Natasha murmured in agreement, her voice sensual and deep, vibrating deliciously. "You want this so fucking bad, that tight little cunt is just begging for relief."

A dark shiver ran through you at the crude language. It sent shivers down your spine, your nipples poking out like greedy little peaks in her leather bralette. Your body needed to be conquered, craved the taste of domination. And who better to give it to you than Natasha?

"Are you ready, moya lyubov?" Natasha purred, her eyes dark and intense as she reached under the bed and pulled out a strap-on. "Yes," you breathed, unable to look away from the dominant woman. Without warning, Natasha thrust forward, filling you with a wild, animalistic hunger. She gripped your thighs tightly and held them still as she thrust into you with wild abandon.

You screamed in pleasure, the pain of your welts fading in the face of your overwhelming pleasure. Natasha leaned down to kiss you, swallowing your passionate cries as she continued to plunder your depths.

Your tongues dueled and parried, each thrust and retreat bringing you closer to the edge. "Cum for me," Natasha whispered hoarsely, pulling back just enough to meet your wide eyes.

The command sent a shiver down your spine, your core clenching around Natasha as you neared your release. "I'm... I'm going to...!" you screamed, unable to hold back the tidal wave of pleasure. Your eyes rolled back and your body tensed as you felt the orgasm rip through you. This time Natasha watched your body shudder in release, delighting in how you screamed and squirmed in surrender to her dominance.

She paused for a moment, staring hungrily at your flushed, sweat-covered features as she occasionally groped you as you screamed and squirmed. "So beautiful, so perfect. You can feel me deep inside you, feel you falling apart under my touch, brought to the edge." Then she increased her speed, her movements becoming more reckless; her eyes blazing with the intensity of her desire.

"Fuck N-Natasha, wai-it!" With each thrust, your cries grew louder, the bedposts clacked rhythmically against the wall as natasha desperately searched for release. You tossed your head from side to side, your breasts bouncing and jumping, your hair making a mess of the expensive silk sheets.

"Stay still," Natasha demanded, her voice low and threatening, but there was something whispered in that command that sent a shiver of anticipation through your body, making it impossible for you to resist. Your breath came in ragged gasps and your eyes fluttering shut.

"Stay with me, little one.” Natasha demanded, her voice deep and commanding. You obeyed immediately, your wide eyes meeting Natasha's. "That's better," Natasha said, satisfaction shining in her eyes. "I'm the boss here and you will do what I say. Do you finally understand that now?”

You cried out and arched your back as your body endured the hard thrust, your clit rubbing against the thick base of the strap-on with each thrust. Natasha bit her lip, her eyes on you as she pushed in deeper, hitting the spot that made your whole body twitch with pleasure. "Oh, God!" you screamed as another wave of pleasure raced through your body. "Scream my name," Natasha hissed. "Say it!"

You could barely form words at this point, let alone remember what Natasha had ordered, but you felt Natasha's hands close around your throat, cutting off your airway just enough to make your speech sound garbled and unintelligible. "Nn... ta...asha!" You gagged, your body writhing under Natasha's grip.

"Fuck Y/n!!" she breathed as she thrust into you one last time, the dildo glistening with your shared wetness. Your body froze beneath her, your eyes rolling back as you reached the peak of your orgasm. Your loud, throaty screams filled the room as you came for the third time, your body a limp, sated mess, sprawled on the bed.

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🏷️ TAGLIST

@kipitou @thalia-is-not-ok @queen2234 @sgm616 @dorabledewdroop @natsxwife @natashaswife4125 @loneliestafterparty @jenniferjareauwife @maggieromanov @doveromanoff @agent99galanzo

[jasmines-library]

Survivors Guilt

WHUMPTOBER DAY 9: ALT prompt: Survivors Guilt

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

Summary: When jason dies after taking your place, you experience survivor's guilt.

Word count: 1k

MASTERLIST ⛤ WHUMPTOBER 2024

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

You should have died that day. His screams will forever be ingrained in your consciousness; whispering away in the back of your mind. Weaving their way through the cracks like a stubborn weed. You should have died that day, but Jason’s pleading to take your place was enough to satisfy the sadistic man before you. The way his eyes twinkled with a sadistic gleam made you feel sick. You have tried. Tried impossibly hard to get the Joker to leave Jason alone. Tried to tell them that you would take the torture as you were supposed to. But Jay was far too caring for his own good and his pleas to spare you amused the Joker more than you did. Your shreeks of terror and your desperate cries; the ones that ricocheted off of the walls satisfied the Joker. But they would never bring more of a grin to his face than watching the light leave Jason’s eyes. 

By the time Bruce arrived it was already too late. Jason’s heart had long stopped beating. But once they had untied you, they had to drag you away from his body to tend to your injuries. 

You didn’t sleep for weeks after that. You would often wake up in the night screaming for him. You couldn't so much as close your eyes without seeing him. It was like he was haunting you. A ghostly reminder that he died to save you. Because of you. That it should have been you. The guilt hung heavily over your head, weighing you down. And you began to change. It eventually got to the point where you practically refused to sleep. Or rather couldn’t. It was much easier to force yourself to stay awake than to Soon you became more withdrawn. You stopped making appearances at breakfast and dinner and it grew increasingly harder for anyone to find you anywhere other than inside your bedroom. Slowly, you began to lose interest in the things you were so interested in before. You didn’t have the energy to even think about doing them.

The other members of the family noticed of course. At first they had decided to give you some space, offering support when they thought you needed it. They knew they were grieving. They were grieving too. But as the weeks passed they slowly began to notice your withdrawn nature. They missed your lively presence and just seeing your face. 

Late one afternoon, there was a knock on your bedroom door. You tried to ignore it first. Hoping that you could pretend to be asleep and that whoever it was would go away. But then the knock came again followed by your name. 

You could tell that it was Dick on the other side of the door and from his tone of voice you knew he was worried. Of course he was worried. And there was just something about the way he said your name that forced you to get up out of bed and crack open the door. 

Dick seemed rather startled when you opened the door. Truthfully, he hadn't expected you to. But he wasn’t alone. Tim and Damian were with him. 

“Hey….” he said gently. “Do you mind if we come in?”

You hesitated for a moment but let them in reluctantly before shuffling onto your bed.

“Where you been, princess?” Tim asked you “We’ve not seen you. You doing okay?”

“Yeah…” you responded quietly. “Just been…….busy.”

It was a complete lie. You hadn’t been doing much of anything, you couldn’t bring yourself to. Tim frowned a little, but didn’t comment on the matter, instead he placed a hand on your knee, rubbing over the skin gently with the pad of his thumb. 

“You've been sleeping okay?” Damian asked you. The bags under your eyes were far from subtle. 

“...better.” You just answered shortly. That guilt still hung heavy above your head. 

“Good.” a sliver of a smile appeared on Dick’s face before it morphed into a sad look. “We’re worried about you, kid.”

“I’m fine.” You tried to dismiss them. 

Tim tilted his head at you. “You don’t have to keep it bottled up, sweetheart. Talk to us.”

You opened your mouth to speak, but your words failed you. You were scared to open up.

Dick squeezed your hand. “It's alright. Tell us how you’re feeling. We’re listening.”

“I…..it should have been me.” Your words cut through the silence. Honest. And brutal. Raw and real. “He begged him to leave me alone. And he–”

“Shh…” Dick tried to soothe you. “It’s alright. You're okay.”

“Its not okay! he died because of me!”

Damian shook his head. “No. Don’t think like that. Jason died because the Joker is sick.”

“He took my place!” You said. You were on the verge of crying. You could feel the tears prickling at the back of your eyes. They could see the guilt you were experiencing. 

“What happened was not your fault. You hear me?”

“I should have tried harder.”

“No. No sweetheart….” Dick shushed you. “You couldn’t have done anything. The Joker had his mind made up. No one could have done anything to have stopped him. But Jay did what he did because he loved you. Not because you didn’t try hard enough to stop him.”

That was what pushed you over the edge. The tears began to flow. Dick pulled you close to his chest, wrapping you up tightly in his arms as you wept. Tim ran his fingers gently through your hair as Damian laced your fingers with his and traced gentle, soft circles on the back of your hand. 

“Shh…we’ve got you…. It's okay ....”

The three boys held you close, reassuring you and letting you cry. 

“We’re here for you sweetheart.” Tim said. “We’re always gonna be here for you.

“We’re gonna work through this together, okay? It might take us a little while but that’s okay.” Dick explained to you gently. “We’re here for you, kid. Always and forever”

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

<- DAY EIGHT ⛤ DAY TEN ->

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

TAGS:

@hearts4robs @kingshitonly @alicedawitchbish @hell-o-kittys @azure-drag0ness @harleycao @thewhispersofthewaves @batfamsstuff @xxrougefangxx @rosecentury @noisymutantherelol @killxz @rhiodes @inlovewhithafairytale @that-wannabe-vangoghgurl @canthavetoomuchchaos

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

[papiliotao]

꒰ 𝒔𝒂𝒚 𝒊𝒕 𝒃𝒂𝒄𝒌 !! ✩࿐

pairings: albedo, alhaitham, childe, cyno, heizou, kazuha, scaramouche, and xiao x gn!reader (separate)

content: fluff, very light angst in xiao’s and childe’s (they still ends with fluff though), kissing, established relationship

summary: in which your boyfriend tells you that he loves you, but instead of returning his sentiments, you decide to mess with him by not saying it back.

a/n: i said that i’d post soon like two weeks ago... oops. nonetheless, i hope you have fun reading this!

₊˚ପ ALBEDO

“What’s the matter?” Albedo asks, tilting his head slightly as the words fall from the tip of his tongue. Vivid teal eyes fill with hints of concern that dance through his irises loftily in a flurry of iridescent petals.

Albedo is worried, but he doesn’t want to make a big deal out of nothing. For now, he’ll test the waters of an unexplored ocean and scope out the situation, hoping that he’s just reading too much into things.

“Nothing,” you answer, tilting your head innocently as if you don’t have a clue what Albedo’s talking about.

Your boyfriend is perplexed, but he’s not an idiot. He’s often been regarded as a genius, and he’s spent almost as much time reading the sentimental words engraved into your heart as he has conducting his experiments. Albedo is absolutely captivated by you because you never fail to leave him fascinated and awe-struck. So naturally, he’s managed to pick up on all your subtle habits and all your strange quirks.

And right now, the expression on your face tells him that something is off. A missing brushstroke on a panoramic painting. A sour note in an otherwise enchanting composition. A sparkling daydream where you feel just a little too lucid.

You know exactly what he’s talking about. You’re just feigning ignorance.

Now all Albedo has to do is figure out why.

“I see,” he whispers under his breath in a tone so soft that even a light breeze would whisk his words off to neverland.

Albedo’s gaze remains fixated on you, his eyebrows scrunched and eyes narrowed.

Then a barely-audible chuckle leaves your lips. You stifle it in an instant, but Albedo has committed the melodic sound of your laugh to memory.

And suddenly everything makes sense.

You’re trying to get a reaction out of him, but sadly for you, you seem to have forgotten one key detail. Albedo is used to solving issues in a calm manner, his temperament akin to aquatic drafts that gently caress the surface of a crystal ocean. Cool and controlled.

“Ah, I understand now,” he says, and your eyes widen. The expression on your face rivals the beauty of a night sky dotted with various asterisms. You’re utterly ethereal. The corners of Albedo’s lips turn up, graced with a smile that shines with the light of a million stars. “You thought you could fool me, but unfortunately, you just gave yourself away.”

A pause. The tension within the air thaws, and the atmosphere becomes light-hearted once more.

“I’m not mad,” he clarifies, staring you dead in the eye, “but I would, however, appreciate it if you could make it up to me.”

₊˚ପ ALHAITHAM

Alhaitham is unfazed.

He sees right through you. You didn’t seriously think this was going to work on him, right? It didn’t take him long to get used to your antics when you first got together, and although you haven’t tried to play as many pranks on him as of late, it’s difficult to erase the devious grin you don whenever you’re up to something from his mind. Nor has the sly look in your eyes slipped from his memory.

Your boyfriend’s ability to read you is almost prophetic — a prediction of the future, yet no stars are read and no omens are required. He makes his predictions based on logic and logic alone.

And unfortunately for you, you don’t possess the same capabilities.

When you ignore Alhaitham’s honeyed words, turning your back to walk away with a coldness reminiscent of the farthest outreaches of the galaxy, he simply shrugs it off and heads to your living room to read a book. He sinks comfortably into a plush armchair, knowing full well that you’ll be back in no time.

Just four pages in, and Alhaitham hears the sound of footsteps echoing down the hallways, filling your shared home with a familiar sort of music. It’s only a few more seconds before he feels a tap on his shoulder — a touch that brings him back to reality entirely, away from the realm of scholarly pursuits.

“Is there anything you need?” Alhaitham asks, meeting your gaze with eyes tinted a turquoise found only in the most pristine of diamond waters. He remains as stoic as ever, not allowing so much as a single hint of emotion to show through his front.

You stare at him, dumbfound, for a few moments. Alhaitham knows what you’re thinking. He’s normally so observant — nothing ever slips past him, and yet this time, he failed to acknowledge the fact that you didn’t respond to his ‘I love you’. Besides that, it’s rather rare for Alhaitham to allow those words to leave his lips in the first place. He prefers to reserve them for tender moments, times where it feels like the only beings present in the vast universe are the two of you. You expected him to be more alert, and yet, Alhaitham has subverted all your expectations.

And it’s all part of his plan.

But then your eyes widen, filling with a light signaling that you’ve just experienced an epiphany. Alhaitham can tell that you’ve realized what he’s up to, and that your little scheme has backfired entirely.

“About earlier,” you start, assuming that Alhaitham already knows what you’re referring to.

Alhaitham smiles.

“What about it?” he questions you, acting oblivious even though both of you know Alhaitham would never be that clueless.

“You acted like you didn’t notice on purpose, didn’t you?” You’re pouting, but your irritation is clearly feigned. Alhaitham knows you like the back of his hand, and although messing with you produces some entertaining results, he would never go so far as to hurt you.

A rare smile graces Alhaitham’s face, as stunning as vivid ribbons of celestial light that compose an illustrious aurora. He’s not typically one to express emotion, but he can’t help himself. You’re just far too irresistible, and if there’s one thing he has a soft spot for, it’s you.

“My apologies,” he speaks in his usual calm tone. “I just couldn’t help myself — not when I knew I’d be able to bear witness to such an adorable display of anger.”

₊˚ପ CHILDE

The silence that hangs in the air is tangible — a thick veil of unspoken words, all consolidated into glacial fractals that cause the atmosphere to glaze over. An icy sort of tension permeates the moment, crystallizing the ambience and morphing it into something fragile.

And everything shatters when your boyfriend speaks.

“[Name],” he frowns, gazing at you with periwinkle hues devoid of illumination. He sighs, swallowing his pride. “Say it back. Please.”

A blank look fills your eyes, morphing once-lively galaxies into monochromatic jumbles of nonsense. For once, Childe can’t tell what you’re thinking, and that scares him. Either you’re messing with him, and you’re an exceptionally good actor, or you’re being serious.

“Say what back?” you say, cluelessness filling your tone filling your tone.

Childe is dumbfounded. It’s true that he tells you he loves you quite often, but he didn’t think that you’d become so accustomed to it that his words would no longer hold any weight. Although he finds it slightly odd, he supposes that even the most precious of glittering gemstones becomes mundane when fortune is the norm. But that doesn’t mean he’s any less disappointed.

“You really can’t tell?” he sighs yet again. He averts his gaze, looking anywhere but at you.

You shake your heart, and yet as you do, he catches a subtle flash of gilded lightning flash through your irises, setting your expression ablaze with hints of mischief. It vanishes as quickly as it appeared, but Childe knows what he saw. The initial melancholy that gripped his heart with cold fingers borne of frost dissipates, and in its place, amusement arises.

Silence. Shock. Disbelief.

And then he bursts out in a fit of sonorous laughter, the sheer volume of each chuckle rivalling that of an intense tempest.

Your eyes widen. It seems that you didn’t expect to be found out, but Childe has known you for long enough to be able to read your emotions. He’s spent an eternity exploring every nuance of your personality — every subtlety and every quirk, the good, the bad, and the ugly. And he loves every part of you.

That’s why he never fails to express his adoration whenever the opportunity is presented in evanescent moments like these. Although times like these sound like they’d be rare, they’re not when he’s by your side. Every second is filled with bliss, and despite the instances where azure skies are painted a dull grey and sapphire oceans turn tumultuous, he always knows that everything will be alright.

“I should have known,” he says. “You were just teasing me.”

Busted.

In less than a minute, your boyfriend has exposed all your plans, and you have no choice but to admit defeat.

“I was,” you admit, hanging your head.

Childe laughs, but once he settles down, he cups your chin in one hand and lifts your head to meet his gaze. With a surprising amount of tenderness, he closes the distance between your lips. Inch by inch.

You lean in as well. Time slows, and he forgets how to breathe. Even though he was the one who initiated the kiss, he finds you utterly enchanting. The beating of his heart speeds up, becoming erratic, desperate for the sensation of your soft lips pressed against his.

And then it happens. Although Childe had been looking for a verbal affirmation of love, this is even better. Fireworks seem to burst in the edges of his vision, painting the world in vivid shades of phosphorescent crimson and rose.

₊˚ପ CYNO

“Say it back. There’s no need to continue on with this prank of yours because cy-no you’re only joking,” he says. His voice is as monotone as ever, as tranquil as cerulean seas beneath a sky dotted with snowy white clouds.

His words provoke no response from you. You simply stare at him, too shocked to speak.

“Do you get it? Because Cyno is my name, and ‘cy’ sounds a little bit like ‘I’ while ‘no’ sounds like ‘know’.”

Cyno watches as your features scrunch in a twist of disbelief, embarrassment, and fear. He internally chuckles, secretly delighting in the adorable expression adorning your face.

Your reactions are always priceless, worth more than the most precious of gold and the most luxurious of diamonds. Because basking in the splendor of your smile is true opulence.

“Okay, okay,” you giggle, the embers of mischief within your eyes flickering, “you win. Please stop with the puns. I can’t take it anymore.” Your tone is playful, light.

The corners of Cyno’s lips turn up slightly as a smile graces his features. He’s well aware that your exasperation is feigned — nothing more than an exaggeration fabricated in order to tease him a little. Besides, if you didn’t like his sense of humour, you wouldn’t even be dating him right now.

“Victory is mine,” Cyno speaks triumphantly in a tone full of a hyperbolic sort of grandeur.

He feels light-hearted for the first time in a while, and it’s in that moment, that fraction of a second, that Cyno realizes something.

Your presence is liberating.

When he’s with you, he’s free from the troubles of daily life. With you, the responsibilities that go hand-in-hand with his status are put on hold, allowing him some time to truly experience what it’s like to be unburdened. With you, he’s not the General Mahamatra, one of the most renowned figures within Sumeru. 

He’s just Cyno.

He feels his grin widen as he opens his mouth to speak once more.

“I love you,” he repeats his words from earlier, his tone one of pure adoration and bliss. The beating of his heart picks up, setting a new tempo that seems just right for the moment, a perfect backing for a myriad of silent declarations.

That seems to do the trick because you admit defeat without hesitation and utter the same words back with an extra one following in tandem.

“I love you too.”

₊˚ପ HEIZOU

“Oh? Do you not love me anymore?” Heizou confronts the problem head-on, feigning sadness. A smirk spreads across his face when he sees your confused expression, but he manages to erase it in an instant, deceiving even the eyes of his partner.

You should have known better than to play a prank of this sort on him. After all, Heizou’s always been one to turn your tricks against you.

As soon as your eyes widen and your jaw drops, Heizou knows that he’s won. To his relief, you don’t notice the way his verdant pools of peridot sparkle with mischief. You’re too absorbed in your panic to sense that anything is off.

He has to continuously stifle bouts of laughter. Heizou finds your reactions slightly too cute.

“N-No! I didn’t mean it like that!” you blurt out in a tone laced with desperation. “I’m sorry. I should have known that you would have noticed something was off. You’re always so perceptive,” you speak sheepishly, averting your gaze. “I just wanted to see how you’d react if I didn’t say it back…”

Heizou chuckles.

“You’re too cute, darling,” he muses, staring you straight in the eyes. “Fortunately for you, my intuition told me that you were just messing with me.”

You groan.

“Of course you figured it out,” you sigh.

Heizou can’t help but mentally agree. He’s already used to solving mysteries, and the fact that the two of you are so close doesn’t quite work to your advantage. Your boyfriend knows you like the back of his hand, and unfortunately for you, he enjoys the thrill of piecing together the puzzles you craft in an attempt to elicit reactions from him.

“I think I deserve a reward for cracking this case,” he says, pointing a finger at his lips.

When Heizou sees your eyes light up, glowing with the opalescent radiance of a nebula, he knows he’s about to get what he wants.

With one quick movement, you lean in nervously to place a shy kiss on Heizou’s lips, clearly still embarrassed by your failure. When you pull away, you take a few steps backwards before gazing deep into your boyfriend’s eyes. In that moment, Heizou realizes that the sentiments swirling through your irises — feelings embodied by the warm hues of a dying sunset — are nothing but sincere.

₊˚ପ KAZUHA

Kazuha knows you’re teasing him. From the subtle grin you’re trying to hide to the mischievous light dancing within your star-flecked irises, it’s not difficult to discern that you’re teasing him.

But despite everything, he decides to play along.

“I love you,” he repeats, gently taking your hand in his. He plants a gentle kiss on the back of your hand, a charming habit more than a calculated measure.

Kazuha glances up at you and smiles — a gentle expression that lights up your day with rays of golden sunshine. In a single flash, your cheekiness vanishes, and instead, an awestruck gaze paints itself across your face.

Kazuha suppresses a giggle. Far too often, he finds himself enamoured with you, especially when you’re flustered. He attempts to memorize the sight before him, engraving every dip and curve of your facial features into his memories.

You’re just far too endearing for him to resist, and besides, you’re his muse. Kazuha isn’t exactly sure how he knows it, but somehow, he’s certain that someday this moment will undergo a metamorphosis within a hall of crystallized memories, transforming from a fond recollection of the past to strings of eloquently phrased words — a haiku.

You look absolutely captivated by him, and although he didn’t intentionally try to send your heart into a frenzy of vivid daydreams and rose-tinted adoration, he’s glad you find him so attractive. A few seconds pass before you give in.

“I love you too,” you whisper breathlessly, grinning at Kazuha before leaving for the day. As soon as you’re out the door, Kazuha chuckles, eyes containing the essence of autumn mingling with a bright moonglow, swirling with amusement.

“I love you more.”

₊˚ପ SCARAMOUCHE

Scaramouche is confused, but he tries his best not to show it. He’s fairly certain that the two of you haven’t argued recently, so why is it that you’re not reciprocating his affections?

Although Scaramouche acts like he doesn’t care sometimes, he knows all your small habits. And as your lover, he finds it odd that you aren’t uttering those three powerful words back. That coupled with the fact that it’s rather difficult for him to express his feelings makes him desperate for a response.

“Are you forgetting something?” he grumbles, not wanting to seem too desperate. Deep down, his emotions cause whirlwinds of conflicting thoughts to swirl in his mind.

He watches as you blink — slowly, gradually as if you want to stretch seconds into eons. A frown etches itself into his forehead, and he feels irritation begin to overtake his heart. Storm clouds, tinted an ominous grey, overwhelm the ambience.

Finally, after what feels like forever, you shake your head.

“I don’t think so,” you tell him.

Scaramouche’s features twist into a pout, and he crosses his arms in front of his chest. Yet at the same time, your boyfriend is embarrassed beyond measure. He feels his cheeks heating up, and he’s absolutely sure that shades of pink reminiscent of a sunrise have begun to dust his pale cheeks.

“Fine,” he breathes out, rolling his eyes and turning away. “Forget it. I’ll see you tonight.” Scaramouche tries to brush it off casually, attempting to erase the odd experience from memory.

He want nothing more than to hear you say those three words back, but he’s far too proud to admit it.

He nearly walks away before he feels a firm grip on his shoulder.

“Wait,” you say. “I was just kidding.”

Scaramouche groans. He turns around in order to face you.

“How irritating,” he sighs. He brushes his hair, silken strands spun of midnight, away from in front of his eyes. Scaramouche can’t believe you were able to sense his vulnerability.

You giggle upon seeing Scaramouche’s grumpy face.

“You owe me for this,” he states.

“I know,” you whisper, stepping closer to him and leaning in.

Scaramouche feels his breath hitch, and before he knows what’s happening, the sensation of your warm lips against his overwhelms his senses. Sparks fly in the edges of his vision, and soon enough, a passionate fire is set ablaze in a grand display of crimson elation.

Although you didn’t say anything in response when he told you he loved you, your wordless exchange of adoration speaks volumes.

I love you.

₊˚ପ XIAO

Xiao sucks in a quiet breath as you turn away from him. It’s not often that he expresses his affection verbally, and the fact that you’re barely responding to his declaration of love is unnerving.

He looks down, strands of seafoam obscuring his gaze, blocking eyes of honeyed amber from your line of sight. However, he raises his head after only a few seconds, attempting to ignore the feeling of unease creeping up on him, freezing his very being with a subtle chill. It’s barely there — a pain nowhere near the sting of a frostbite — yet it still eats away at him, reminding him again and again that something is wrong.

But although Xiao wants to ask you if anything’s bothering you or if he did something to upset you, he can’t. Translating his emotions into words feels far too difficult, especially because in all honestly, this situation is probably no big deal — or so he tells himself. Your nonchalance contrasts with his overthinking, causing doubt to well up within his mind.

In the end, he allows you to leave, wallowing within an aquamarine sea of thoughts. The world has been painted a watercolour blue. Although he refuses to admit it, melancholy overtakes Xiao’s heart, as he’s now both confused and lost.

Did he upset you?

The idea doesn’t seem too outlandish. Xiao’s never been good at interpreting emotions or expressing them, and it’s one of his greatest insecurities as your boyfriend. He’s gotten better over time, but there are times where he still worries about being too oblivious to your feelings.

Unfortunately for Xiao, you’re out for the day, so there’s plenty of time for negative thoughts to ruminate in his mind, festering until they reach the point of becoming a soulless black hole, draining every bit of confidence from him.

As the skies outside the glass windows of your shared home begin to tint with a rosy blush, and a golden light paints the world in shades of ephemeral warmth, Xiao becomes restless. You’ll be back any moment, and then, he’ll have to face you. Anticipation causes his heart to beat in a frenzy as the minute of your arrival approaches.

And sure enough, you return at the exact time you always do.

As soon as you walk through the door, Xiao walks over to greet you, gauging your reactions. When you see him, the corners of your lips turn up in an ethereal smile, and the rest of your face lights up.

Your delighted expression takes Xiao aback. He didn’t expect such a pleasant greeting after the events of this morning, but he brushes it off, allowing a grin to dance across his features in tandem, reciprocating your look of absolute adoration.

“I missed you,” he whispers, stepping closer to you in order to gently take your hand in his.

To assure himself that you’re here in the moment. That nothing’s wrong.

He sighs contently when you don’t pull away. The solace of your intertwined fingers is akin to the tidings of a viridescent spring after countless days of pure white dusting a panoramic landscape. It’s a breath of fresh air after eons spent hyperventilating in the frigidness of a crystallized wasteland, silently fading away amongst seas of sparkling snow.

Xiao can finally breathe again.

And when he laters asks why you didn’t return the three precious words he uttered under his breath earlier that day, as the sun had just begun bathing the world in aureate light, your answer causes his face to heat up.

It was nothing more than a prank.

disappearing back into my gremlin cave for another fifty years now!! thank you so much for reading!

[juyeonszn]

I WANNA TIE THE KNOT

PAIRING lee hyunjae x f!reader

WORD COUNT 1.70k

GENRES fluff ﹒smut

WARNINGS 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, mature language, established relationship, it escalates pretty fast ngl, fingering but there’s honestly no real foreplay, u tie hyunjae up with ribbon, dry humping, unprotected sex (wrap before u tap besties), cowgirl position, marking lowkey, scratching, hyunjae is a master at pillowtalk, creampie :P

SUMMARY that coquette bow trend on the internet really isn’t for the faint of heart. at least, that’s what you think when you decide to do it with hyunjae.

MORE 😂😂😂🔫 anyway. i actually wrote this in one sitting. in one night. bc i was insatiable for the coquette trend after a Very Passionate discussion with @kimsohn and @zzoguri <3 delusional sapphics 1, 2, and 3 back at it AGAIN! if u noticed, all 3 of us wrote something involving these godforsaken bows. this fic was a long time coming seeing as i wrote it a month ago but i remembered it was valentine’s day so,,,, here u go! pls dont forget to reblog if u enjoyed <3

PERM TAGLIST @winterchimez @maessseongs @itsbeeble @zzoguri @deoboyznet @cloverdaisies @vernyangel @ericlvr @sunwooverse @kimsohn

���Can we try this?”

Hyunjae raises an eyebrow at you when you shove your phone in his face, scooting up higher from where you were laying on his lap. He watches the video with mild amusement. 

“You want to tie a bow around my bicep?” He asks you, as if your request was so far-fetched and out of the ordinary. He had nice arms, he’d look cute with a ribbon wrapped around it. The whole coquette vibe matched well with his pretty face. 

“Yeah, why not? It’s a cute trend. And at least I’m not suggesting the one where I tie your mouth shut,” you rest your cheek on his chest, blinking up at him with hopeful eyes. “Please, Jae? For me?”

It’s a little comical when you physically see the war waging in his head. He wants to decline, thinks the idea of you putting one of your ribbons around his fucking bicep is kind of stupid, but he could never say no to those eyes. Lee Hyunjae was a weak, weak man. 

So he agrees. 

Next thing he knows, you’re filming him flexing with the cute little bow on his arm to post on your social media. He should feel silly, standing still so you can record the perfect shot, but he doesn’t. You look so cute with your tongue poking out of the corner of your mouth, he feels his mind straying from the original plan. 

He wraps his arms around your waist when you go to edit the video, preparing to post it publicly. You squirm as his lips make contact with the sensitive spot below your ear, kissing tenderly and sweetly. “Jaehyun….”

Your warning tone does not dispel his efforts to distract you, the tips of his fingers dipping below the waistband of your sleep shorts. The pads drag along your hip bones while his mouth travels lower on your neck, nipping at the soft skin visible beneath your top. “Yes, my love?”

“Don’t fucking ‘my love’ me right now,” you whine, craning your neck to the side to give him more access to the surface. “You know what you’re doing.”

“Is it working?” Hyunjae teases, thumb applying the slightest amount of pressure on your clothed clit. “Are you gonna let me fuck you with these pretty bows on?”

The groan you release is guttural, because god your boyfriend knew how to turn you on like a damn light switch. Your eyelids flutter shut and your head falls back on his shoulder, phone slipping out of your grasp and onto the floor. His finger moves in tight circles on the bundle of nerves, cupping the rest between the apex of your thighs. Fuck, he was starting to get the better of you. 

“Y-Yes, but on— mmm— on one condition,” you force yourself to stay steeled, keeping your voice as stable as possible. 

“And what is that?” Hyunjae nibbles your earlobe, teeth grazing the shell and sending goosebumps all over the expanse of your skin. His ring finger presses up on your entrance over your dampened underwear, making you clench around nothing. 

Oh he was a dead man. You were going to make him pay. 

“You w-wear the ribbons,” your breathing hitches. “Let me— let me tie you up. I’ll make it worth your while, Jae. P-Promise…”

He halts his motions, like he’s contemplating your words carefully. It’s not like much would change, to be honest. Hyunjae would still be the one in control after a certain point. You just wanted the excuse to bind the smug motherfucker for once. And to keep the bows on him, but around his wrists this time. 

Hyunjae retracts his hands from your shorts to remove his shirt, the heat radiating against your back from his bare torso. Your chest heaves up and down as you watch him climb back to the head of the bed, sweatpants low on his hips. It takes a whole fucking lot of self restraint not to jump his bones then and there, but you manage, straddling his waist so you can tie his wrists to the bed posts with your pink satin ribbon. Your hands are shaky, like your breathing, but he doesn’t point it out, letting you have your fun. 

A low grunt escapes his lips when you pull on the fabric, ensuring it’s tight enough to hold him still but loose enough not to leave a mark. It doesn’t help that he can feel you pulsating through your sleep shorts onto his abdomen, his muscles contracting underneath you. 

You aren’t really sure if you can even keep up your own act, grinding down on his lap like a bitch in heat. It’s embarrassing how easy it is for him to work you up without so much as touching you. You knew if you didn’t stop now, you’d dry hump him until you were a quivering mess, fully clothed and all. Hyunjae knows you’re needy, too, the corner of his lips quirking up. 

“Can we— god— can we just s-skip the foreplay?” You whine into the crook of his neck, hooking your fingers into his sweatpants. “Want you inside me already…”

“Of course, baby, you know I’ll never say no to you,” he coos, mouth finding yours to kiss you slowly, gently, passionately. 

You push his pants and underwear down in one go, using your feet to kick them away so you can undress yourself as fast as possible. Your desperation is too strong to pretend it’s not there, so you give into your own carnal desires. Hyunjae hisses when your cunt hovers over his cock, so slick that it doesn’t take long for him to slip inside completely. 

Every time you have sex with him, you feel so full, the weight of his cock so deep in you that you see stars well before he’s even moved. You support yourself with a hand on each of his shoulders, lips still molded with his as you begin to bounce meticulously. Your moans are muffled with his kiss, practically impaling yourself on his dick. 

Your hips roll experimentally, throwing your head back with a drawn out moan and your nails clawing down his chest when he hits that particular spot inside your pussy. Hyunjae lets out a sound akin to a strangled moan, wanting nothing more than to get his hands all over your body so he can fuck you six ways to Sunday. 

He bends his knees to make it a bit smoother for you, relishing in the way you’re losing yourself to your pleasure without him having to do a single thing. You’re just rutting against him at this point, legs beginning to give out this early. 

“Don’t— mmm— Hyunjae, I can’t— ‘s too much,” your speech is already slurred, words blurring together and making hardly any sense. 

“Let me get out of these, baby,” he tugs at the ribbons. “I’ll fuck you so good, my love. I’ll give you— fuck— what you want.”

You nod frantically, not trusting your voice to say anything remotely coherent. Thankfully, Hyunjae takes note of the lack of strength you currently have, not expecting you to untie the knots on his wrists without struggle. You watch with heavy lids and he pulls harshly, tearing the satin binding him to the bed frame. So much for them being secure…

Your top half collapses into his chest and he grasps at your waist roughly, having half the mind to flip you over and pin you to the mattress. Instead, he presses up into you, slow at first so he can regain his bearings after being tied up, and then he’s bucking up into your pussy like a jackrabbit. 

“Thought you could take me—“ he cuts himself off with a groan. “Thought you could take me all by yourself like a big girl, huh?” 

Whining in response is all you can do, almost on the verge of tears. The sounds of your cunt sucking him in, squelching echoing around the bedroom, are nearly enough to knock you over the edge. The coil in the pit of your stomach stretches more and more, teeth sinking into his collarbone and marking up his supple, sweaty skin like it was your day job. His blunt nails dig into the fat of your hips as a means of grounding himself, holding back from finishing before you because you were his top priority. 

Your nimble fingers sneak between your bodies to massage your oh-so-sensitive clit, ring and middle digits working at double their usual speed. Hyunjae stares at you with hearts in his eyes as you try desperately to get yourself off. He thinks you’re gorgeous every second of every day, but for some reason, you look fucking breathtaking right now. 

“My pretty girl, taking it like a champ,” he grits his teeth. “You love when I fuck you like a pornstar, don’t you?” 

It’s when he connects your lips in a kiss so sweet it puts all the others to shame and so polar-opposite to the filth the two of you were committing, that you cum without warning, velvety walls constricting around his cock. Your head is empty and your vision goes white for a moment, static ringing in your ears. He follows immediately after, moaning into your mouth as he does so. You swallow the noises while your breathing stutters, the sensation of him filling you up with all he can give blindsiding your senses. 

You stay sandwiched together as you both calm down, tired and achy from such strenuous activity. When you stop to think about the cause of these events, you snort until it morphs into an uncontrollable laughter. (Then you wince because Hyunjae’s dick was still inside of you.)

“What’s so funny?” He furrows his eyebrows, making no effort to move. 

“That fucking bow trend led to one of the best orgasms of my life,” you’re still laughing, chin on your hands, which are folded over his chest. “It’s so stupid.”

“The bows are cute. Maybe you should let me try tying you up with them next time.” Hyunjae pecks your forehead, running his fingers through your hair. 

“Trust me,” you giggle, a yawn threatening to push past your lips. “There will definitely be a next time.”

© juyeonszn. do not steal, claim, or repost.

[cloudwisp]

𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐲 · 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐬

contents: hurt/comfort. wriothesley cheering you up after a rough morning. 900 wc.

Sometimes you wonder if Wriothesley truly does see and hear all—much like his omniscient reputation where he always seems to know what goes on in the Fortress of Meropide every minute of every day.

But he doesn’t need his stream of intel to know that something’s wrong when you enter his office to share a nice meal and freshly brewed cup of tea with him during lunchtime. From the slight slump in your posture and the soft, weary sigh you exhale just seconds before you offer him your sweet smile and plant a greeting kiss upon his lips, he easily figures that your morning didn’t go as smoothly as you hoped.

He observes you for a moment as you place the takeout on the table and situate yourself on his velvet couch and he gathers his scattered paperwork into a neat stack. He can tell that whatever happened before coming here is still weighing heavily on your mind, and he doesn’t like it when you force yourself to smile. “What’s got you down, sweetheart?”

You hadn’t realized you were lost in thought when you turned toward his direction, and much to your surprise, he’s bent at the knee to meet you at face level to give you his full and undivided attention. You muster another smile and shake your head. “Hm? It’s nothing.”

Try as you might to hide your feelings, Wriothesley doesn’t believe a word of it. Not for one second. His tone of voice softens as he gently finds your hand to hold and his thumb rubs small circles over your skin. “Come on, I know something’s wrong. Don’t shut me out.” His other hand reaches up to brush strands of hair away from your face and tenderly tuck them behind your ear.

There’s no secret you can keep from him—he notices every little detail when it comes to you. He loves you more than life itself and he cares deeply about you and believes that his duty as your boyfriend was to ensure your safety and happiness. And so he looks at you, waiting in silence until you’re ready to confide in him. Like he knew if he waited, the truth would eventually come out.

You feel a wave of comfort wash over you when he cradles your cheek in his hand and you lean into the warmth of his touch. After a breath, you decide to tell him about what transpired at your workplace in the morning. How your boss keeps assigning you small and tedious tasks when you already have a full plate and deadlines to meet yet he refuses to hear anything you have to say.

Wriothesley listens intently to your venting and he nods agreeably with you. “And you’ve already explained to him that what he’s demanding is a little extreme, right? You’ve been trying to tell him this, but it’s still not sinking in?” He takes your sigh in defeat and your head falling forward as your response. “That would make anyone upset, sweetheart.”

He knows that any mentions of him wanting to have a friendly chat with your supervisor is only going to further upset you, so he’ll keep that to himself and quietly take care of it in his own time because he doesn’t intend to dismiss it. He would hate to see you in a troubled situation like this in the foreseeable future, and if he’s able to pull some strings behind the scenes then he’ll do anything within his power to make your life a little bit easier.

You perk up when you feel him lay a kiss on the top of your head and he returns to his full height, making you crane your neck at him curiously when you make out his smirk in the dim lighting. He offers you his hand and nods behind him. “I’ve got something that’ll cheer you up.”

Your heart melts at his sweet gesture and you allow him to lead the way. With a few strides to his desk and quick work of his hands, a soft and romantic melody flows from the record player. A small laugh escapes you and he sees your real, genuine smile for the first time today. He chuckles when you begin to make sense of his plan to lighten the mood, and he reels you in by the waist and holds you close to him as you both start to slowly sway to the lovely tunes.

The ever-present smile on your face means that it’s working, your head gently rests against his broad chest and your sighs become one of contentment—all of your worries and frustrations fading away into nothingness. It’s just you and him, a feeling of safeness and belonging found in his embrace as his love wraps entirely around you.

“You know, I didn’t peg you for a dancer.” You tease, gazing back into those deep whirls of blue that hold all of his adoration and affection for you. If only you knew the depths of his feelings, perhaps he’ll save that conversation for another day. 

A quiet and happy hum sounds from his throat and he presses himself closer to you, giving your hand a light squeeze. “What can I say? Love makes you do all sorts of things.”

[howdoyousleep3]

Pairing: Daddy Steve/Baby Bucky Rating: E (Explicit) Word Count: 4.4K Tags: Porn Without Plot, Established Relationship, Drunk Sex, Daddy Kink, Light Dom/Sub Relationship, Brat Taming, CNC (Consensual Non-Consent), Dirty Talk, No Prep (there is an obscene amount of lube though lol), Spanking, Anal Sex, Manhandling, Feminization, Rough Sex, Light Exhibitionism, Light Subspace, Breeding Kink, Size Kink, Spitting, Coming on Face, Ruined Orgasm A/N: It's about time. The current state of my life and my mental health called for a mean and selfish Daddy Steve who doesn't give a fuck. In this fic, these two rely on their established relationship and deep understanding of one another. Daddy Steve has never talked or acted like this. Bucky loves it even if he is frightened by the thrill of it. I hope you trust them and love it too. ❤️

Read here on Ao3

“Listen, Buck— I’m going out to dinner with my friends and that’s that.” 

Bucky isn’t used to being told no. 

“I don’t know what else to tell you. You’re just going to have to deal with it, baby. I’ll be home later tonight.” 

Bucky doesn’t react well to being told no. 

“I love you,” Steve had told him to obviously end the conversation, something akin to annoyance evident in his tone, digging into and burning at Bucky’s skin. Being told no feels like rejection, feels like betrayal, feels like nothing his Daddy should be forcing him to feel. 

So, Bucky hung up without another word, without a proper response. 

Without giving Daddy his “I love you”. 

If Steve wants to be mean, Bucky can be mean too. He can be mean even through the tears and through the sting of rejection and through his admittedly unnecessary pouting. So, he ignores Steve’s calls, ignores his texts, ignores his warnings. 

Buck…

Don’t do this. You know this won’t end well. 

Pick up the phone, Bucky. 

He goes about his night alone at home, ignoring Steve’s attempts at communicating, at apologizing, at getting back onto Bucky’s good side. He orders takeout and ignores the immediate urge he’s met with to order Steve’s meal of choice as well; he doesn't deserve it. He drinks half a bottle of red wine as he scrolls through Instagram, watches reruns of Real Housewives of New Jersey, and waits for his food to be delivered. 

By the time he’s done with his meal, he’s finished off the bottle of wine and ignored three more of Steve’s texts and two more calls. 

Why are you being such a brat? 

Pick up the damn phone.

You’re fixing to piss me off, Buck.

Daddy’s been drinking. 

Bucky decides to shower. He takes a long, hot, luxurious shower. He shampoos his hair twice, uses his expensive body wash that smells like pumpkin cinnamon rolls. He drenches himself in the matching body oil once he’s done showering, takes the time to put on his best skincare, his favorite oil for his hair. 

He feels like he’s floating on a cloud as he falls into bed naked and wraps himself up in their flannel sheets and heavy duvet. He doesn’t even bother going in search of his phone; he has no plans to respond to whatever Steve sends him anyway. 

Steve can kiss his ass.

Bucky is pulled slowly from his sleep. 

It isn’t in an instant or a sharp awakening; it feels like he’s being pulled slowly through syrup from his dream-riddled sleep by something curious. 

Bucky furrows his brow. Is that—?

It’s a noise, a consistent noise. 

A familiar, wet noise that immediately sets Bucky on fire from the inside out. 

The recognition of that noise forces his body and mind into a state of almost panicked awakeness then. A sharp wave of premature arousal wracks his body, something of a Pavlovian response, and it sends his heart pounding against his ribs. He opens his eyes and blinks a few times in order to help adjust to the darkness of the room, the lights from the city just outside their windows helping to keep the room not fully encased in darkness.

Once his eyes adjust, he finds the source of the sound immediately. 

He was right.

Steve stands within reach of Bucky’s bedside, close enough to touch, his cock pulled through the zipper of his pants and held in his hand. 

Fisting it.

He doesn’t even say anything when he locks eyes with Bucky, his mouth slightly dropped open and a sharp gleam in his eyes just past his glasses that leaves Bucky on edge, curious and hesitant and hot. He tries hard not to let his eyes drop back down to the sight of Steve’s impressive cock, digs his fingers into the mattress in an attempt to ground himself, but it’s useless. It’s always useless. 

He loves his Daddy’s cock. 

Bucky doesn’t move, doesn’t say a word. He watches on as Steve reaches for an open bottle of lube he must have pulled out of Bucky’s bedside table, watches on as he squirts some messily into his palm before reaching for his cock again. He tosses the bottle onto the bed carelessly. 

Something deep, deep within Bucky begins to grow restless. 

“Still ain’t got nothin’ to say to your Daddy?” 

Steve’s voice cuts through the air and the tension like a hot knife through butter. Bucky feels the bass of it in his toes, the bite of Steve’s growl curling around his neck. 

He curses himself for once again not thinking his tantrums through to the end, for thinking he ever stood a chance against his Daddy. 

“Yeah, forgot how much of a fuckin’ punk you can be when you don’t get your way.” 

Oh.

That’s how it’s going to be? 

The thrill of uncharted territory skirts up Bucky’s spine, the nervousness of the same curling into a ball in his belly. 

“Maybe you shouldn’t spoil me so much then,” Bucky weakly tries, but Steve only scoffs and strokes his cock harder, the girth of him making Bucky’s mouth traitorously water. 

“I’m not responsible for your fuckin attitude, Buck,” Steve bites out in a tone Bucky has only heard a few times before. It nearly forces tears to spring to his eyes, nearly pulls a whimper from the back of his throat. It also makes his balls begin to ache. 

He chooses not to say anything in response, but Steve fills the silence after a minute or two. 

“Thought about comin’ home to just blow my load all over your pretty face while you slept before crawling into bed, but…don’t know. Think I want you to be awake when I take out my anger on your pretty body.” 

Jesus. 

“Andy said I should do it, mark you up all over your face, maybe smack you around a little. But James said I need to take it out on your ass. And I gotta say…I’m keen on taking it out on your ass.” 

Bucky’s head spins. He grows dizzy from where he lays, his jaw going slack as that dizziness morphs into fuzz, into familiar heaviness. The erotic image of Steve sitting amongst his friends and discussing Bucky’s punishment pulls his hips into the bed beneath him, forcing his next few breaths to grate against the front of his throat. His dick fills out, chubbs up, fattens between his legs and in the sheets. 

Steve talking about him, about something so sexual, seeking advice from his friends on how to handle his baby— it’s all far too much to process at once.

The added layer of them all drinking, of knowing what Steve gets like when he has amber liquid slipping through his system, intensifies Bucky’s reaction. 

He’s certain Steve was spewing filth, was sharing intimate details of their relationship. He was surely discussing Bucky, what he likes and dislikes, how he reacts to Daddy’s decisions and hand. 

Fuck, Bucky shouldn’t find it so hot, but he’s damn near drooling for it. 

“Yeah, that’s right— it was a group decision. Had to tell ‘em all how bad you were bein’, had to explain why I was so fuckin’ fired up when I got there. You don’t even want to know the fucked up shit Levinson and Walker said I should force you to do. So, we decided on your ass, that your ass deserves the punishment.” 

Bucky will never be able to look Steve’s friends in the eyes again. Or maybe he will, but he’ll surely pop a boner the moment he does.

Steve’s groan is somehow thunderous yet low, long and drawn out, as he resumes stroking his cock, as he reaches into his pants and pulls his balls out. Bucky barely has time to whine at the sight before Steve is speaking again.

“But that works out ‘cause if I’m making you fuckin’ take it, I’m gonna be selfish about it. Yeah sure, I’m your Daddy and I’m supposed to teach you a lesson and make you aware of the consequences of your actions, blah blah blah—” 

Bucky’s not once heard Steve talk like this.

“— but not everything has to be a fuckin’ lesson. Sometimes I just wanna…just wanna make it hurt, lay you out a little bit. Don’t wanna make your punishment about you; I want it to be about me.” 

Bucky thinks for a moment that he has no footing, has nothing to grasp at to ground himself in the slightest. But Steve is his safety, is his other half; he’s safe here. He’s safe with Steve and he doesn’t need to question that. And because of that, because of the foundation of trust and love they share, Bucky comes to the decision that this? 

This is hot. 

It’s hot as fuck.

“Roll over,” Steve sharply and suddenly demands. “I wanna see that boy pussy I’ve been thinkin’ about fucking all night.”

Bucky whimpers, his legs spreading on instinct, his next few breaths shaking loose from his lungs. His noises sound almost like a hiccup, like a set of sobs, and he’s rising up onto his knees before he can think twice about it. 

Where he’d normally receive a noise of praise or appreciation, he instead receives a bark of, “Turn the fuck around, show it to me the way I deserve.” 

Bucky scrambles. At least he feels as if he’s scrambling, as if he’s moving quickly and awkwardly, but if the thickness of his thoughts and the difficulty of thinking a second ahead is any indication, he probably looks as if he’s lazily moving through molasses. 

Bucky still doesn’t get the noise or words of praise he’s used to when he’s finally turned around, when he’s got his back in a deep arch and his cheek pressed against the sheets as he faces away from Steve. He instead soaks in the noises of the sound of Steve beating himself off, the slick noise of his fist as he drags it up and down his— 

“You’ve been a little bitch tonight. The guys made me promise them I wouldn’t give into you the moment I saw your pretty hole, but fuck me— that’s a pretty fuckin’ pussy.” 

Bucky does moan this time, loud and ragged with tight emotion. His dick hangs heavy between his legs, achy from the suddenness and surprise of his arousal, and his hole clenches easily and involuntarily at the compliment. 

“Fuck, look how small it is, look how little that fuckin’ hole is. It’s a miracle I can fit my dick in there, my big fuckin’ dick. Your Daddy’s got a big dick, doesn’t he?” Goddamn. Bucky wants to shuffle around on his knees so he can choke on his Daddy’s big dick. He wants it in his mouth, on his tongue, in his throat. He wants—

“I asked you a fuckin’ question,” Steve damn near growls, and the sharp sting of a slap on the meat of his ass shocks Bucky’s answer from him. 

“D-Daddy’s got a big dick.” 

“Yeah, that’s right— say it again. Tell me again.”

Bucky tucks his arms under his chest, spreads his legs even more, offering himself up. 

“Daddy’s dick is so big.” 

Steve chuckles into his next groan. “Fuck, I love hearin’ that.”

He listens as Steve moves next, hears him take a few steps, hears him shuffle around before Bucky then feels a cold glob of liquid hit his ass cheek. He gasps, jumps even, but Steve just moans and spreads the liquid across Bucky’s ass with his hand. 

Bucky doesn’t even have time to ask questions or think of how messy or obscene smearing his ass in lube is when Steve’s hands are on him like this. It’s as if Bucky isn’t there as a person, as if Steve is alone in this room with his ass, as if he were a toy. Daddy’s hand rubs the lube into the cheeks of his ass carelessly, smearing it around and covering him in the slippery liquid simply for the selfish enjoyment of seeing Bucky’s ass oiled up. 

So much for his luxurious, self care shower. 

Bucky’s head is so far in the clouds that he barely registers more of it being squirt onto his ass, the feeling of Steve’s hands rubbing and moving almost hypnotizing, but then Steve is rubbing it over his hole, circling it with his fingers and thumb, pressing his thumb into his hole as he moans. 

Bucky squeals.

These touches are indicative of Steve meaning what he said about this punishment being for him; these are selfish touches. 

The slap of Daddy’s big cock right over his soaked pussy makes him whine. But the feel of Steve then resting his cock between Bucky’s cheeks, of pushing his hips forward in a rhythmic motion draws his whine out further. 

“I’m gonna be mean about it because it’s what you deserve. What I deserve. M’gonna fuck this little pussy the way I want to, for me— don’t give a shit about you right now. You wanna come? Fine. But this ain’t about you.” 

Steve pulls his hips back in order for his hand to come down over Bucky’s wet hole hard, just the once and then three more swift times, spanking it and forcing another squeal out of Bucky’s mouth. 

“Fuck…!”

He’s barely able to jump away from the sting, barely able to feel the burn of such a harsh touch, before Steve is stepping close again and pressing the fat tip of his cock back against Bucky’s soaked hole. 

“You better bear down on it, baby— didn’t spend my sweet time training this pussy for nothin’.” 

Bucky’s body and mind come together for a moment of panic, mesh in an effort to preserve what they perceive to be Bucky’s safety that is in danger. It’s too fast, too quick; it’s not what Bucky’s used to. He gasps as he shrinks away from Steve’s touch, his thoughts getting the best of him and— 

Steve’s strong hand on his nape is like a warm blanket, like an off switch, even when it’s a touch that makes it difficult to breathe. 

“None’a that now. Bear down, here we go…”

Claiming. 

Breeding. 

Steve’s always shown mercy, is in tune with Bucky’s mind and body, holds Bucky as a priority in life and in the bedroom; that is what Bucky is used to. But that Steve is nowhere to be found in their bedroom shrouded in darkness tonight. That Steve has been pushed past the brink of the vast amount of patience he holds, has been filled with amber liquid that takes away his softness. He’s nowhere to be found as he spears Bucky open on his cock, as he uses his big hands to press into the deep arch of Bucky’s back and use it as leverage to fuck into him faster, harder. 

Bucky tells himself it’s a lot, that it’s overwhelming, but that it doesn't hurt. He’s used to sex; they have sex frequently. His body doesn’t need to be warmed up to taking Steve when he takes Steve on the regular. But rarely does he take Steve’s cock this fast, this quick, this harsh. His stream of noise is constant, is veering on feral in nature, and he all but thrashes underneath Steve’s hands and on his cock in response to being split open. 

“This is my fuckin’ pussy,” Steve grounds out between what sounds to be gritted teeth, and Bucky can’t tell if it’s a reminder for Bucky or filth for himself. 

Bucky can’t breathe. He chokes on his breaths, on his noises that won’t stop pouring out, his breaths caged up in his chest. Steve has his waist in a brutal grip, pressing his body further into the mattress, and with Bucky’s arms trapped under his chest it makes it cages his breaths up further. 

He wills himself to breathe, begs himself to focus and to open up his willing body to his Daddy. It’s not difficult for him to want this, even as they tread new waters together, but he is quick to come to peace with his body taking the brunt of this…whatever type of punishment this is. 

The only moment of mercy Bucky is shown is when Steve’s hips meet the curve of Bucky’s ass, and even then Steve only stills long enough to press and grind his cock impossibly deeper into Bucky. It’s as if he wishes to crawl inside of Bucky with a growl, as if Bucky’s body taking the entirety of his cock isn’t enough and he needs more than Bucky can give him.

Bucky feels drool on his chin. 

His blinks are slow and lagging, or maybe that’s his eyes rolling back into his head. 

“God fucking damnit,” Steve groans, his tone showing evidence of both relief and frustration, the smack he gives Bucky’s ass driving that frustration home. He jerks his hips back, pulls out of Bucky halfway before filling him up to the brim again. The lewd, wet noises of his pussy makes his cheeks burn in embarrassment, makes him moan at the easy slide and overwhelming sensation of stretch.

Bucky doesn’t know why he pretends to be a brat. A few harsh words and a smack on his ass and here he is face down, ass up for his Daddy. 

Steve pulls his hips back again, is quick to slide them back home, beginning to fuck Bucky in earnest. 

Bucky’s head spins. 

“Pretty fuckin’ pussy for a pretty fuckin’ boy,” Steve tells him in a rumble, rubbing his thumb around Bucky’s stretched and wet rim. 

On the other hand, maybe he should be a brat more often. 

Steve fucks him without mercy. 

Bucky is used to mercy.

He’s used to eye contact and pauses and little, “You good, baby”s. He’s not used to feeling the entirety of Steve’s strength pressed into his body, not used to feeling bruises form in the moment. He’s not used to feeling like Daddy is simply using him for his hole, for somewhere wet and warm to stick his dick and fuck into. 

This is different. 

This feels so good even if it is a lot. 

It has his emotions twisted up in his stomach. 

The way his body rocks forward with every brutal thrust, the force of the stretch of his pussy, the feeling of spreading his legs and being bent over for his Daddy; he’s almost embarrassed he can very realistically come from this kind of treatment. 

He doesn’t realize he’s saying things until Steve is laughing, groaning, the noise of it swirling around Bucky’s empty brain like a marble. 

“Oh sugar,” he moans long and slow, his hands coming down to cup Bucky’s ass as he fucks it, spreading it wide. “You got nothin’ to apologize for— none of that fuckin’ matters now that I’m inside’a you.”

Was he apologizing? He can hear himself now, the drawn-out, almost mournful noises he’s making as spit pools into the sheets underneath him. It’s all nonsense; he can tell that even though his brain is having a hard time processing his own words. 

“Stretch me out, Daddy,” he hears himself whine. “I’m sorry— M’so sorry! Make it better, Daddy.” 

Steve only fucks into him harder, the slick smack of his groin and his heavy sac slapping against Bucky’s lube-covered ass adding to the cacophony of noises swirling around the room and muddying up his brain. 

“Whatever you say, baby.”

“Daddy…” 

“Of course I fucking am. Who’s your Daddy?” 

“You are…you’re my Daddy.” 

Bucky feels a hand wrap roughly around his nape. His face is shoved further into the mattress. The force of the touch and the angle of his body makes him sob.

“Yeah? And whose pussy is this? Whose fuckin’ pussy is this?” 

Bucky hiccups, sputters.  

“Daddy’s! S’Daddy’s!” 

His balls begin to tighten then, his groin stirring, the moment his hole relaxes and embraces the obscene stretch of Steve’s cock in full. Steve has always told him he has a sensitive sweet spot, a sensitive pussy, and this example is his Daddy’s checkmate. 

He bucks against Steve’s harsh touch and thrusts when he feels his orgasm rapidly build and stir. 

“M’gonna come, m’gonna…come,” he hears himself slur, a pitiful warning that he’s almost certain Steve can’t hear. 

“I don’t give a shit.” 

Oh.

He was wrong.

Bucky says the only thing that makes sense to him in this moment— 

“Come in my pussy, Daddy.” 

Steve roars, shoving at Bucky’s nape before letting go and reaching for his hair, all without pausing his thrusts. 

“Don’t you fucking do that. You motherfucker. Don’t do that, Buck.”

His orgasm must possess him, push him into doing things Daddy said not to do, because he’s immediately defying his Daddy and pouting out, “Come in my pussy, Daddy. Fill my pussy up,” just as his first spurt of come hits the sheets. 

It’s the only moment of his orgasm he is allowed to enjoy. 

He’s still coming, dick continuing to shoot off and body continuing to ride the waves of a shattering orgasm, when Steve pulls out of Bucky’s body and drags him to the floor by his neck. 

He hits the carpet with a thud and a shout, knees knocking and hands flying out to catch himself. He whines, cries, at losing such a memorable orgasm, at being pulled out of the experience of such, and tucks his chin to watch himself experience the end of his climax between his legs. 

“Open your fucking mouth. Look up at me.”

Even with his ruined orgasm, he listens easily. He’s slow to do so. He turns his head up to do his best to look up at his Daddy, but the tears in his eyes make it impossible to see Steve. 

He can see his fist though, see his cock as he uses his fist to fuck himself as they nearly come full circle for the night.

“You don’t let me come on your pretty face enough,” Steve accuses, voice hot and low, labored and barely audible over the ringing in Bucky’s ears and the sound of Steve aggressively jerking off above him. 

Bucky doesn’t respond, can’t bring forth any words in his brain. He sits there with his tongue out, tears in his eyes, hips doing what they can to rock from the aftershocks of his shattering yet unenjoyable orgasm. 

Steve groans and the noise hits Bucky right in the balls. He feels the result of it in his bloodstream, in his being, a noise that, at its core, is centered around Bucky being good. It’s gluttonous and selfish and sexy and Bucky could weep hearing it. 

He thinks he is weeping at this point.  

When he opens his eyes again, Steve is coming on his tongue. 

And then his cheek.

And then over his other cheek, onto his forehead. 

All Bucky can do is sob and moan, an odd combination that makes it sound like he’s begging for his life while also in heat. 

“Fuck, that’s good. Fuck yeah, look at’chu. Look at my fuckin’ baby. My baby…” 

Steve’s come feels as if it scalds his skin, the warmth of it both a shock and a comfort to him. Bucky lets it slide from his tongue, down his chin, has to close one eye in order to avoid a painful mess. 

He does nothing to fight against the urge to pout when Steve feeds him the last bit of come from the swollen tip of his cock, letting it fall onto his bottom lip. Steve’s fingers immediately follow it, two of them reaching forward to rub the mess into his lip, then across his chin. Bucky watches from the floor as Steve’s chest heaves up and down underneath his crisp dress shirt, his thick fingers pressing and smearing his warm come into Bucky’s skin.

Bucky chases after his Daddy’s fingers like a starving animal, gasping and groaning, tongue lapping up whatever Steve has to offer. 

Does he have no pride? 

Daddy answers that question with two fingers shoved in his mouth, stroking the back of his tongue so harshly Bucky’s left with no choice but to gag loudly. 

He still moans.

Steve lets out a long, happy noise that sounds like a sigh but feels like another groan in Bucky’s balls. It’s akin to the noise he lets out when he stands to stretch as the halftime show begins during the football games he watches on Sundays, deep and satisfied. He follows the noise up with a tight grip on Bucky’s jaw from the inside of his mouth, a hold on his teeth as he pulls Bucky further towards him. 

Where Bucky expects a kiss, he instead gets no warning of Steve spitting down between his open lips.

“Fuck yeah…”

He uses his fingers to spread that around as well, allowing for the combination of his come, his spit, and Bucky’s spit slip over Bucky’s bottom lip and slip down his neck before letting Bucky go with a bit of a shove. 

Bucky’s not used to this. 

Bucky thinks he’s fallen in love with Steve all over again.

His spent and heavy cock still hangs from the open zipper of his pants, framed by thighs that Bucky swears are the size of tree trunks from down here, when Steve lets out one last, resigned groan. 

“That was exactly what I fuckin’ needed,” he casually tells Bucky with more than a tap on his cheek. He turns on his heel and begins to walk away from Bucky and towards their shared bathroom. 

Bucky can barely follow him with his eyes, can barely hold his head up.

Steve’s sharp whistle rings in his ears. 

“C’mon, sugar— let’s see if you can wring another one outta me,” he hollers from over his shoulder, not bothering to look back at Bucky. Steve almost sounds like himself again, as if he hadn’t just hate fucked Bucky to the brink of psychosis. Bucky thinks he hears the shower.

Maybe that was all Steve needed to get out of his system. 

Bucky begins to maneuver himself to stand, ass already sore and come still covering his face, when Steve snaps from the door of their bathroom. 

“Nuh-uh— you crawl to your Daddy, kid.” 

Maybe not.

[joelslastofus]

[SUMMARY: Joel deals with the consequences of sleeping with you, not knowing that Tommy already knows.

PART 3 (first 2 parts are in the master list)

Infidelity

“What do you think Joel?” Tommy turned to his brother who was serious leaning forward.

“I think you should do as she says” Joel spoke coldly under his breath.

That evening you debated on not showing up to dinner at all. Staring at yourself in the mirror you sighed before continuing to get yourself ready. How the hell were you suppose to face Tommy tonight?

Better yet…Joel.

You knew you should’ve broken up with Tommy, you couldn’t believe you let yourself go as far as to sleeping with him simply out of anger.

Joel helped prep the table as Tommy finished cooking in silence. Joel wondered what tonight was going to be like, he wondered how you would act towards him after the forbidden encounter. Just as he finished up you rang the bell, your stomach turning as you held your breath when Tommy opened the door.

“Hi” you smiled.

Wearing something very casual you did not want much of any attention that night as if that would make Joel stare any less. A pair of jeans with a light blue shirt you walked in handing Tommy a box.

“I bought dessert”

“Well ain’t that sweet” he responded. Joel could hear your voice from the kitchen, for just a moment the image of you straddling him this morning coming across his mind..

“Tommy…I wanted to talk to you” you whispered just as Joel appeared behind his brother staring right at you.

“What is it?” Tommy asked making you look up at him with a deep breath. Just as you were about to speak Joel cleared his throat interrupting the two of you, making his brother turn to him.

“Hi” you smiled quickly looking away as you held your purse tightly as a form of comfort somehow.

“Hi,” Joel dug his hands into his pockets standing beside Tommy. Tommy wondered what you were going to say, he could see the guilt all over your face.

“Y/n” bought dessert, Tommy decided to kill the silence.

“Yes, chocolate mousse cake. I know Tommy loves that.”

“Actually, that would be me” Joel’s words making your heart sink in embarrassment.

“Red velvet is usually my favorite but I’ll take it” Tommy turned to the kitchen with the box in hand.

How could you be so fucking stupid? Mixing up the brother’s favorites now? It was the least thing you could’ve done right before breaking Tommy’s heart.

“I’m sorry, Tommy” you followed him to the kitchen as Joel followed close behind.

“No, no…don’t worry, baby. This is just fine” he assured you although Joel could tell it struck a nerve.

“So where’s Sarah?” You decided to change the topic hoping she would be there.

“I’m pickin’ her up after dinner,” Joel responded, you sighed realizing just how much more awkward dinner would be.

“It’s just us three” Tommy grinned as he began to bring food to the table.

Awkwardly you sat at the table unable to make eye contact with either of them.

“So” Tommy’s voice breaking the silence.

“I meant to apologize about this morning” he continued, making you look up.

“I ran out fast..didn’t mean to leave ya here with this one” he motioned towards Joel making your heart sink. Tommy knew that must’ve been the moment anything happened between you two, the thought pissing him off. Joel looked up at you noticing the immediate discomfort you felt as you brushed a few strands of hair behind your ear awkwardly. You remembered you left in such a rush without your underwear, you hoped Joel had found them and hid them. Oh how you wished you could ask him in this moment.

“Or who knows, maybe it didn’t bother you at all to stay with him” Tommy continued, the change in his tone causing Joel to look at him.

“Maybe you two caught up with each other” The sarcasm was very obvious but before either of you could respond Tommy cut himself off.

“I forgot the mashed potato’s, I’ll be right back” Tommy abruptly stood up and left to the kitchen leaving you at the table with Joel. Looking down at your plate, you ignored Joel’s eyes on you. Neither of you were sure of what to think, neither of you knew it was possible for Tommy to have known anything. You yourself couldn’t believe you and Joel had been intimate that morning. Not daring to look up, you took a deep breath as Joel bit his inner lip watching you.

“You alright?” Joel asked attempting to be discreet just as Tommy walked back to the table.

“Why wouldn’t she be?” He asked making you look up.

“Yes, um, just felt a little lightheaded. Probably hungry” you chuckled anxiously.

“Lightheaded huh…maybe it’s that special pill you took earlier making you feel that way” Tommy looked up at you purposely, observing your reaction. After finding your underwear in Joel’s pocket, he knew damn well you didn’t take that plan B because of him. Joel knew very well what pill he spoke of, how could he not, he was the reason you had to take it. Joel knew he shouldn’t have done it but he didn’t regret it. The mention of the pill making your heart feel as if it would come out of your throat, Tommy was saying one unexpected thing after another, you had no idea how to respond.

Joel watching how anxious you became tried to change the subject asking how Tommy’s meeting went. The rest of the dinner you could still feel some form of tension, you felt Tommy knew something. He had to…it was the only explanation for the way he was acting.

After dinner Tommy insisted on washing the dishes as you silently helped take everything to the kitchen. Walking past each other while Tommy began to wash, Joel unexpectedly grabbed your arm pulling you to the hall.

“What are you doing?!” You whispered as if you weren’t nervous enough.

“You’re shakin’” he whispered with a look of concern.

“Yeah well-“ you shook your head remembering to ask him about the one thing you left behind.

“Joel, my underwear-I left running and-“

“Don’t worry, I put ‘em away” Joel swore he had taken them out of his pocket and left them in his room.

“Oh thank god” you breathed in relief looking behind you to make sure Tommy wasn’t around.

“We need to tell him, I need to tell him..I can’t do this, Joel. I can’t lie to him any longer. I-“

“I’m right here” he whispered with support, unexpectedly placing his hands on your waist when Tommy’s voice distracted you both.

“We’ve got dessert” he called out from the kitchen. With a deep breath you turned away back to the dining table.

“Couldn’t forget the cake y/n bought even though…it’s Joel’s favorite” Tommy spoke with sarcasm as he stepped out of the kitchen with the cake in his hand realizing Joel was behind you. What the hell was he doing behind you? Why was he so close? Tommy’s jealousy distracting him as you sat down.

“I’m sorry Tommy, my mind has just been all over the place, I could’ve sworn it was your favorite” you sighed.

“Aren’t you the lucky one, brother” Tommy muttered.

“By the way-“ he turned to him as him and Joel sat down.

“I hope we didn’t keep you up last night, I didn’t catch the time you had come back and…I know we got a little loud. Well…she got a little loud. Didn’t you baby? ” Tommy chuckled. Joel’s shoulders tensed up at the thought of what he heard the night before. Oh how he hated to be reminded of it and you could tell. Tommy knew exactly what he was doing. He knew how to get under his brother’s skin.

“Tommy” you whispered a bit embarrassed and shocked that he would bring up such a thing about you.

“What? I’m just saying, maybe it was when I had you on your knees” Joel’s fist tightened on the table, you could feel the rage burning off him. An image of another man having you was something he couldn’t take, he could no longer hide it.

“Tommy, we need to talk” you blurt out before Joel could say anything.

“About what?” Tommy adjusted himself in his seat, not expecting you to mention anything.

Not yet.

“Can we talk in the room? Alone.”

“Why? I’m sure Joel could be present for whatever it is you gotta tell me”

“Tommy please” you insisted. Of course Joel had very much to do with this but you needed to start the conversation alone.

“What do you think Joel?” Tommy turned to his brother who was serious leaning forward.

“I think you should do as she says” Joel spoke coldly under his breath.

“I don’t know, Joel. Something tells me-“ he reached in his pocket.

“Something tells me you should be part of this conversation” he unexpectedly placed your black lace underwear on the table making your stomach turn. Your lips parted in shock as Joel pressed his lips together staring down at the evidence before him.

“Tommy, I can explain-“ you attempted to speak.

“You know what, sweetheart? I don’t wanna hear your mouth” Tommy spoke without taking his eyes off Joel.

“You’re just some stupid broad who couldn’t keep her legs closed-“

“You watch your damn mouth” Joel uttered with his eyes on him.

“I didn’t plan it” you whispered in a trembling voice.

“Didn’t plan what?” He unexpectedly turned to you.

“To fuck my brother right after we fucked?” He abruptly stood up making Joel quickly do the same. Tommy looked back at his brother and scoffed at how defensive Joel became when he stood up.

“Couldn’t even wrap it up huh?” Tommy laughed sarcastically as you looked down in complete embarrassment.

“Yeah, that’s why you got those little pills of yours huh, wouldn’t want my brother to get you pregnant that’s for sure”

“Listen Tommy-“ Joel attempted to speak.

“No you listen, Joel” his expression changed as he took a step towards his brother.

“This whole time you could’ve had her, you could’ve saved all of us time and been with her but you waited till I got with her to suddenly realize ya wanted her-“

“Tommy-“ you spoke hesitantly as you stood up.

“What?” He suddenly turned back to you.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you..I swear I’m sorry..” Tommy began to laugh before making his way to you, Joel closely watching taking a step forward himself.

“You’re sorry? I’m sorry for you” you looked up at Tommy confused.

“You think my brother gives a shit about you? He tossed ya out like a bad habit when Sarah’s mom came around and just like that you gave into him” he shook his head.

“I thought you were smarter than that.” Anything he could say to hurt you. His words were like alcohol on a wound, a reminder of what had truly happened. Joel could see the hurt in your eyes.

“He wanted you gone the second Sarah’s mother said so” Tommy rubbed it in deeper.

“That’s enough Tommy,” Joel’s voice angrily stepped in.

“You probably did that on purpose too” Tommy turned back to his brother making him raise a brow.

“Sending me to go get the laundry knowing you left her underwear in your pocket-“ you looked up at Joel confused. Could it have been that he did it on purpose for Tommy to find out? Everything Tommy was saying caused you to go back and forth in your mind, conflicted feelings erupting within you, you had to get out of there.

“I need to go” you whispered as you grabbed your purse.

“Hang on a minute, baby. I gotta ask you something” Tommy walked closer to you as you swallowed nervously, the sarcasm in his voice only making you more anxious.

“Were you thinkin’ about him when I was inside you?” His question loud enough for Joel to hear. You couldn’t believe you had put yourself in this situation, filled with embarrassment you shook your head.

“Tommy, I’m not-“

“Answer my question!”

“Tommy! I said enough.” Joel stood between you both.

“What’s the matter big brother, can’t stand the fact that after all this time you had her right there, I got to have her first” Joel unexpectedly grabbed his brother by the collar of his shirt, aggressively pulling him close but all Tommy did was laugh. Joel knew he could do nothing to change that and released him taking a deep breath. The sound of the door slamming shut making both men turn to see you running out. They both stood silently before Joel turned back to his brother.

“Look…Tommy…I aint mean for this to happen..” Joel spoke low looking down at the floor. Tommy stood silent, a part of him knowing his brother had these feelings for you…just simply in denial of them.

“Go on…go get her,”

Joel looked up surprised with his response yet he could still see the anger his brother felt.

“You’re a dick for this but…I ain’t the one in love with her.”

Rushing to your door you began to unlock it when you heard footsteps behind you.

“Hey-“ Joel’s voice making your heart pound harder.

“I..I don’t wanna talk anymore about this ok. This shouldn’t have happened, none of it”

“You don’t mean that” he turned you to face him.

“But I do” you insisted.

“It’s true what Tommy said, you didn’t care to leave me behind when Sarah’s mother-“

“Sarah’s mother was a mistake and you know that.”

“Yeah well that’s not what you thought in the moment did you? Suddenly you hear your brother fucking me and-“ noticing him clench his jaw tightly you lost your train of thought.

“Forget what happened between you and him, you know damn well I’ve always had feelings for you ” he whispered as he stepped up closer to you.

“I was wrong for the way I handled things” he continued, his eyes studying your expression. He could tell you just wanted to forget about everything, he could see you felt like hiding.

“Why don’t cha come with me for the ride to pick up Sarah-“

“No-“

“We can talk some more plus I’m sure she’d be happy to see ya” you shook your head.

“Please baby” his husky voice calling you baby caught you completely off guard. With a sigh you gave in and hesitantly walked with him to his truck, both of you being watched by Tommy from the window. Of course he was still pissed, he may not have loved you but he was still lied to.

Sitting in the passenger seat looking out the window you remained silent, as much as you were relieved that Tommy knew the truth, guilt still ate at you. This wasn’t the kind of woman you were.

“He’ll get over it” Joel suddenly spoke making you turn to him.

“It was just so wrong” you shook your head.

“I should’ve never slept with him” you whispered. Joel’s hand tightening on the steering wheel as he stopped at a red light. Looking down at the radio he couldn’t help but wonder what his brother had asked you back at the house, a car loudly beeping behind quickly snapped him out of it.

“Geez” you whispered looking back as Joel cleared his throat.

“Can I ask you somethin’?”

“Sure” you responded hesitantly.

“What Tommy asked you..back in the house…” his eyes on the road as he continued to speak.

“When you…when you were with Tommy-“

“Joel, stop” you rolled your eyes with a sigh.

“Tell me-“

“I am not-“ he cut you off with just a look. A look that would make any woman give in.

“Yes, Joel. I never wanted to sleep with Tommy I was only pissed at you.” You blurt out.

“I only ever wanted you” you admitted as you looked away. Silence followed your words as you pressed your lips together.

“Ya know..it used to kill me seeing you two together on the porch in the mornings” Joel furrowed his brows.

“Watching how he somehow always made ya smile. Should’ve been me long ago” you looked down fidgeting with your hands when Joel’s hand gently covered yours.

“Should’ve been me all along…”

[nofingjustaninchident]

omg Leah tysm for doing this event ily. Hear me out, Jason proposing to gf!reader, when she's not really having a good day, and feels down (maybe the reason could be that her friends left her out on plans or something but it could be anything, really). But Jason just ironically makes it her best day ever with his secret sweetly planned proposal ahhh 🥹🩷

ᯓ★ id marry you with paper rings

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

pairing jason grace x daughter of poseidon!reader

summary worst. day. ever. or maybe not.

warnings nah, just fluff

authors note this one was so cute to write omggg

now listening to paper rings by taylor swift

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

The day had been rough. Y/n was sitting on the couch, feeling the weight of the world pressing down on her. Her friends had, once again, gone out without her, leaving her feeling lonely and left out. Just to match, her whole week at work had been extremely bad, and now she felt like a good old piece of shit.  

The gloom settled over her like a heavy blanket, and no amount of distraction seemed to lift it. Her boyfriend, Jason, was also not home, as he had to spend most of his days at one of the camps – sometimes even both of them.  

To lift her mood a little bit, she heard the key turning on the front door, immediately bringing a smile to her lips. Jason walked into the room, smiling down at your slumped form on the couch. He was beaming with an enormous bouquet of her favorite flowers in hand.  

Unfortunately or not, he could read her like a book, and the sadness in her eyes was impossible to miss. His smile disappeared almost as fast as it came and he went straight to her, enveloping her in his embrace.  

Ever since the war ended, he’d been so afraid to lose another friend because he wasn’t strong or powerful enough to protect them, that he’d been training a whole lot harder, which made his hugs so so more comfortable. 

She shrugged, leaning into his embrace. “Just… feeling down. My friends went out without me again. I don’t know, it just sucks.” 

Jason’s heart ached seeing her like this. He hated knowing she was hurt, but he also knew he had the perfect way to turn her day around. He had been planning this for weeks, waiting for the right moment. Maybe today, despite its rough start, could end on the best note possible. 

“Hey, how about we go for a walk?” he suggested, his tone light. “Fresh air might help.” 

Y/n looked at him, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Okay, that sounds nice.” 

They both put on their jackets and headed out, Jason holding her hand firmly in his. Maybe she was a little paranoid, sure, but his hand was a little sweaty, and she could swear that he seemed a little nervous; he kept looking around as they walked, biting down on his bottom lip and often squeezing her hand. She decided to ignore 

They ended up on the beach. He put a blanket on the sand and they sat there, holding hands as they stared out at the beautiful sea. For a moment, they chatted about their days, a few jokes and stolen kisses were shared.  

Until Jason suddenly stiffened as he stared right into y/n’s eyes. “Hey, babe, I, uh... I gotta tell you something.” He said. 

Y/n raised one eyebrow at him, suddenly afraid. She hoped that it wasn’t anything bad, but she couldn't help but think about her current luck. Her friends leaving her, her favorite coworker getting fired... Jason wouldn’t leave her, too. Right? “What is it?”  

He got up, pulling her with him. She tilted her head to the side. She had absolutely no idea what to expect with that.  

Until he smiled and reached out to his pocked. She followed his hands’ movements, until he pulled a small, velvet box from his jeans. Her breath hitched, tears prickling at the corners of her eyes as she saw the scene she wanted to see for god knows how long: Jason Grace, the praetor of the Twelfth Legion, getting down on one knee.  

He looked up at her with all the love in the world as he spoke, a speech that was as engraved in his mind as the words of the Prophecy of The Seven.  

“Y/n, my love. You've been making me the happiest man on earth ever since I woke up in that bus holding your hand. Every moment we’ve spent together has been the best of my life. From the laughter we share to the challenges we’ve faced, you’ve been my rock, my joy, and my reason to smile every day. You’ve shown me what love truly means - how it’s not just about the good times but also about sticking together through the tough ones. Your strength, kindness, and endless patience never cease to amaze me. You’ve made me a better person, and I can’t imagine my life without you in it.”  

As his words started to sink in, her heart swelled with love and affection. The tears were already falling down her cheeks, and she couldn’t wait to say the words that’d change her life.  

“Y/n, you’re the light of my day and the breeze of my nights. I can’t wait to build a family with you. Would you give me the honor of accepting me as your husband?” He finally asked, smiling as never before.  

“Gods, yes!” She said, throwing herself on his arms. “Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes! I love you so much, love you, love you so much.” She muttered into his neck, bawling her eyes out as he hugged her.  

She hadn’t seen the ring, with all the tears and the emotion that was making her mind spin. But she was sure that anything with him would be perfect.  

He pulled away to slip the ring on her ring finger. It was a tourmaline, her father’s gemstone. She looked at him with pure awe as she thought about all the times she told him how that was her favorite stone. Gods, she loved him more than she could imagine.  

And she couldn’t wait to spend her life with him.  

[seresinhangmanjake]

Oh, Baby

Dad!Jake Seresin x female reader

Summary: You might not have been his girlfriend, but when you left town one night a month after sleeping together, it completely broke Jake's heart. Now, a year later, you've returned and you're not alone. You have a new little companion that just so happens to bear a startling resemblance to Jake. 

Warnings/notes: its mostly fluffy. cursing, i think. mention of pregnancy. that might be it. 

Words: 2900

Oh, Baby Masterlist / Masterlist

His Girls (Following Part)

-----

Staring is rude; that’s what his mama told him. That, and a handful of other little rules that didn’t fit the bill of ‘gentleman.' But he couldn’t recall a single one of them now. His mind was occupied and nothing else mattered. Maybe nothing else ever would. So he let himself stare.

You smiled and the air got trapped in his lungs for a moment before it decided to fight for freedom by way of harsh, sharp bursts. If his coughing drew the attention of others, he didn’t notice. It didn’t draw yours, and that was for the best. He needed another second to breathe; to watch your face light up under the influence of the infant in your arms. 

Two months old, that’s what Rooster had told him. 

You’d left town one night, leaving no note, no means of contact except through your parents who texted Rooster every once in a while to let him know you were Ok, but never to tell him where you were. Maybe they didn’t know either. Then, according to Rooster, you showed up at his door with a bag, a smile of apology, and a two-month-old baby cradled in a wrap around your chest. 

Jake didn’t know what to do with that. He didn’t know how to process what you’d brought with you, or why you went to Rooster instead of him. Maybe one more thing that didn’t matter at the end of the day. As it was, everything in front of him was too much to handle. 

“I don’t want to overstep,” Rooster said through the phone. His call had woken Jake, but the anxiety in Rooster’s tone cleared any grogginess faster than a cup of coffee. “Did you and Y/N ever…?”

Jake swallowed and sat up a little straighter in bed, running a hand down his face. Everyone had guessed there had been something going on between you and him. Everyone assumed that even if there wasn’t, if they were wrong, eventually the two of you would get there. You’d figure it out because it seemed inevitable. Jake had always hoped they were right. He’d pined for painfully long, and while it seemed like you felt something for him too, he wasn’t going to move until you did. And then you did. 

It was simple, really. He thought there would be something more complex to the two of you finding your way into bed together, but it was so easy. So natural. Simple and easy and natural enough for you to seek him out three more times before you disappeared from his life, breaking a part of him as you did. 

“Why do you ask?” Jake said. 

“Um—fuck.” It was a soft curse from his friend’s mouth, just barely detectable through the speaker. But it carried a heavy weight with it that Rooster’s voice alone did not. “Are you sitting down?”

“Yea.”

“Good.”

The seconds passing were nearly as painful as the day you left—that moment he realized you were no longer in his bed. He’d called everyone. No one had an answer for him. “Rooster, what the fuck is going on?”

He sighed, which was never good. Rooster wasn’t much of the sighing type. Sighing meant thinking. And he wasn’t much of the thinking type anymore, either. Hadn’t been since Mav had knocked that behavior out of him while he was in the air. That new mentality just so happened to carry into the rest of his life, and he lived in a world of impulsivity. Don’t think, just do. It was the exact same with his words. Rooster only ever spoke his mind, didn’t hold back, didn’t hesitate, and yet now he was.

“She’s back, Jake," he finally said. "Showed up last night.”

His heart stopped beating. He felt it seize in his chest. And then it began again, starting with incredible force and livening his entire body. 

“But, um…that’s not all,” Rooster continued. “She’s got a baby with her, and—” His breath was shaky, matching Jake’s hands. “Alright, I’m just going to say it—the kid looks exactly like you, Seresin. Spitting fucking image. Now, if you two never got together then I’ll chalk it up to a wild coincidence, but if you did…” He paused. “If you did, I think you need to get over here.”

Jake had never run so fast in his life, never driven so recklessly, never stormed through the front door of someone’s home the way he did Rooster’s, but how could he not? 

“Where is she?”

Rooster shot to his feet from his spot on the couch. “At the store. She took the kid with her. We should probably wait—”

“The one down the street?”

“Yea, but—what are you doing?”

He was already at the door, the knob squeezed viciously in his grip. “I have to see for myself,” Jake said. “I won’t ambush her. I’ll keep my distance, but I have to see.”

And he saw…everything. The woman he loved, casually walking up and down the aisles of the grocery store, looking at labels and deciding on brands and placing things in a cart, with his baby strapped to her chest. 

And that was his baby. He knew the moment he saw the eyes that were his, just smaller and on a face full of features that were also his, save for the curve of the lips that belonged entirely to you. Had his mother been by his side, she might’ve stumbled back from how similar this baby looked to her own. He would have too had his feet not been stuck to the floor. 

Every bit of him was holding back from reaching for you as his instincts demanded of him, but he had to move before you saw him. You could turn your head at any moment. So he had to go. 

—--

“When did you even…I mean, everyone always figured you would…but…when?”

Jake lifted his head from where it was resting over the back of the couch. “About a month before she left. A few times.”

Rooster nodded. “She’ll be back soon. Are you sure you want to do this now?”

“I–”

As if on cue, the front door opened and you stepped through with a bag of groceries in each hand, one of which fell when your eyes met Jake’s. Little jars rolled across the floor, making the only sound in the otherwise dead silence of the room. His lips parted, but nothing could slip out of them, nothing that would make reasonable sense, anyway. His mind was too much of a jumbled mess.

The baby broke the tension, its little wiggle causing you to glance down at the tiny head resting against your chest. You set the other bag down and took an immediate turn to the left through another door that Jake knew led to Rooster’s guest room. You returned a moment later, without the baby, your arms crossed in front of you as you walked toward him. 

He thought he would be mad; maybe betrayed; at the very least bitter and devastated, but all he wanted was to pull you to him and hold you and kiss you and thank whatever deity necessary for returning you to him. 

“You couldn’t have kept it to yourself for a little?”

He didn’t know what you meant until he realized you were looking directly at Rooster. 

“Sorry, sweetheart,” Rooster replied. He nudged his head Jake’s way. “He was a fucking mess when you left, and it’s so obvious that the kid is—” He paused when your eyes fell to the wooden flooring. “I’m sorry. I’ll give you two some space.”

Jake waited until his friend was gone before he dared to take a step your way, but he stopped short at the hand you held up. 

“Y/N…”

“I don’t want to argue with you,” you said. “I’m not going to get into why I did what I did other than to say that I thought it was best for you, me, and her.” Your arms fully uncrossed and one hand began to pick at the other’s fingernail. “At the time, anyway.”

“She’s mine.” It wasn’t a question. He knew it. He knew it in his soul that the little girl in the next room belonged to him as much as she did you. But still, he needed to hear you say it; needed to watch the shape of your lips form the words. 

You nodded. “She’s yours.”

“And were you going to tell me?”

“I came back to tell you,” you said without a lick of hesitation in your voice; something that made him feel a bit lighter. “I wasn’t sure how I was going to do it yet, but I didn’t want her to wake up one day and start asking me fair questions that I only had unfair answers to. I couldn’t imagine telling her that her father had no idea she existed. So,” you took a deep breath, “I figured I’d see if you might want her, too.”

If. He could’ve laughed under different circumstances. If he wanted his daughter? There was nothing to mull over or consider. Of course, he wanted his daughter. Her and you, if you’d have him. But he couldn’t press that now. 

“What’s her name?”

“My family calls her Evy, but it’s Eve.”

“After my grandmother?”

“She was always nice to me when she would come to town, and I know you love her.” Your shoulders rose and fell in a shrug, but he knew there was nothing nonchalant about it. It was a deliberate choice, a careful choice. You could’ve named her anything under the sun. You could’ve named her after your own family, but you didn’t. “I wanted our daughter to have something of you other than just your DNA.”

The weight was back. A heaviness in the air from the beauty of what you’d just confessed mixed with the undeniable question of What now? He wasn’t going to push you. You were in complete control, always had been. Control over him, over what happened between you, over the future he had once hoped you may share—the future he thought was lost, but maybe could now be found. 

“Do you want to see her?”

His eyes widened, a confusing emotion filling his heart. He wasn’t sure you would offer, and giving him that chance swelled the love he felt for you. But more than that, adding to the confusing feeling was the hopeful note in your tone. Did you imagine he might deny you? Did you think he’d turn his child away?

“Yes,” he said with absolute surety, and by the grin you gave in return, he knew you felt his sincerity. 

You turned, leading him into the room he’d spent a drunk night or two in. A room in which he’d woken up insanely hungover and begging for the sun to die just to give him some relief. The irony. He silently snickered. You moved aside, facing him as he took in the sight before him. 

Your baby—his baby—laid on her back in the small travel crib, her eyes closed and body wrapped up snuggly in one of those sleep wraps he saw his sister use on her son. Her delicate face was so peaceful. Her long lashes rested on plump, rosy cheeks. Her lips were parted the slightest, the sweetest breaths making the softest of sounds. Her dusting of blond hair reflected the slim ray of sunlight sneaking through the drawn curtains turning the strands into pure gold.

Unshed tears stung the corners of his eyes. 

“You can hold her if you want.”

“She’s—she’s asleep. I can’t—”

“She’s a heavy sleeper,” you said. “Honestly, the best baby, Jake.”

Of course, she is, he thought. If she was anything like you, she’d be perfect. She was already perfect. 

Reaching into the crib, you carefully grabbed the baby and held her out to Jake. He’d held a baby before, plenty of times, but something about holding his own…he couldn’t describe it fully, just that it made his nerves fire off. His fingers began to twitch, but when he looked at you, he saw the familiar glassiness coating your irises and you nodded in encouragement. 

That was all he needed: the mother of his baby asking him to hold their daughter. So he did, extending his arms and gratefully accepting his little gift. 

She was so small. His hands and arms and chest dwarfed her compared to how she looked against your body. Up close, she was porcelain in form, fragile and light, and he would surrender his every breathing moment to protect what you and he had made. 

A soft sob echoed in his ear and Jake’s head shot up to see those tears had fallen, crafting rivers down your cheeks as your hand covered your mouth. 

“I’m sorry.” The apology was muffled through your fingers. You shook your head and finally dropped your hand. “I’m sorry, I just didn’t think—I didn’t think I would ever see this.”

With the hand not cradling his child, Jake cupped your cheek, smoothing your tears back into your skin with his thumb. You leaned into his touch and he suppressed a gasp. The first time in a year that he’d felt you, and it was like coming home. He’d missed everything about you, every ounce of your being and presence. He missed your scent filling the air: the vanilla perfume, the fruity shampoo, the minty chapstick that he’d pick up right when he was about to kiss you. All of it. Everything. And now you were here, and he wouldn’t be able to let go.

“Why did you leave me?” he whispered. 

“We had only slept together a few times,” you sniffled. “Doctor said I got pregnant that first time. Good on us for using a condom, right?”

He chuckled half-heartedly. Neither of you had one on you that night, and foolishly, neither of you cared. Pent-up desperation took over, and being inside of you, feeling you, became his sole need. Nothing short of you shoving him away could have stopped him. 

“Anyway, this wasn’t in your plans,” you said. “And I didn’t want to force it on you, but I also didn’t want to give her up. It scared me, so…”

“I would’ve helped you. I loved you. I’d been in love with you. I would’ve—”

“You loved me?”

Oh. He hadn’t planned on saying it. Certainly not now. Before you left, he’d hoped you already knew somehow. Then you were gone and he was sure the opportunity to tell you would never be within reach again. But, intentionally or not, you just presented him with a moment for the words to fall right out of his mouth, so they did. 

“Well…yea,” he said. “You could’ve told me you wanted a baby and I would’ve given you one.”

Your eyes shifted from his and you stared into the blank space next to his head, like your brain had short-circuited and your whole world was flashing before your eyes. You took a wobbly step back and dropped to sit on the edge of the mattress. Jake gave another long look at his daughter before kissing her forehead and placing her back in the crib. 

Kneeling in front of you, he said, “I still love you.” When you didn’t speak, he grasped your hands in his, intertwining your fingers. “I love you, and I already love our daughter. And I want you to stay. I need you to stay with me.”

He could hear his heartbeat in his ears. Only you had that effect on him and he couldn’t say that he didn’t once hate it. It drove him insane for ages. He would simply think about you and the beating would start. That thumping would keep him awake at night, distract him at work, drown out the voices of his coworkers, but he accepted it now. It was an indicator of what he felt for you and that was too real and honest and beautiful to be bothered by. 

Finally, your fingers squeezed his back. A sign, small as it was, that you were understanding. 

“Look at me,” he whispered, and you did. He smiled as he peeled his fingers away from yours to frame your face between his hands. His thumbs ran along your cheekbones, then he leaned in a little closer. “Come here.” Another whisper, a bit broken on the final syllable. 

You didn’t protest when he pulled your face to his. You didn’t push him back when hot breaths caressed each other's mouths. Your fingers loosely fisted the collar of his shirt and you let his lips brush over yours in a gentle kiss.

And that was it. You were it. You had always been it for him. He knew it then, and he knew it now. But he didn’t want to overwhelm you. 

He pulled back a few inches to grant you some space, but your mouth chased after his, your hands sliding into his hair and holding him so you could force your lips together again. Harder, hotter, more desperate. You’d missed him, too. It was undeniable now. 

“Promise me, honey,” He said when you separated to breathe. "I can't lose you. Not again."

“I promise, Jake.” Your eyelids fell closed and you rested your forehead against his. “We’re not leaving you.”

------

tags: @thespeeder @nobody7102 @fangirlingoverfangirls @blue-aconite @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @dempy @chaoticassidy @alana4610 @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @dracosluvbot @smoothdogsgirl @smit41 @wkndwlff @rileyloves5 @gigisimsonmars @hangmanbrainrot @withakindheartx @teacupsandtopgun @himbos-on-ice @xoxabs88xox​ @happypopcornprincess​ @violyn20​ @jordanturpen​ @buckymcu12​ @jerseybagel @nagygreta​ @rintheemolion​ @coldmuffinbanditshoe​ @avengersgirllorianna​ @oliviah-25​ @talkfastromance4​ @ysl-bby​ @chibijusstuff​ @kmsryles343​ @sometimesicryintheshower​ @cookielovesbook-akie​ @yanna-banana​ @taylahk109​ @buxkybarnez​ @elijahmikaelsonbitch​ @ravenhood2792​ @potato-girl99981​ @eccentricnos​ @kembry107​ @pono-pura-vida​ @topguncultleader​ @v0id-chaos​ @scrappybear89​ @stiles-banshees​ @audri_janis @caidi-paris @jake-seresins-girl @sass-masterkittenmama​

[xxcallmemaryxx]

hi!!! i love your works<3

could you maybe write vessel x reader first date?

A sappy first date with the big guy. He’s a bit nervous. But so are you.

Vessel x GN reader.

Under the cut ~ <3

It’s a nice place. It’s quiet, the lights are dim, the booths are made in such a way that it’s like you’re on a whole other planet when you sit in them. Which normally, would be phenomenal. Having such a level of privacy while enjoying your dinner, it’s perfect. But this time it feels like a curse. Like the world is working against you. Because sat across from you is Vessel. He’s in a freshly ironed button up, a dark blue that looks almost black under these lights. His hair is combed back out of his face and he looks at you like you hung the stars. It’s awful.

It’s your first date.

And he’s doing absolutely everything right.

The problem is, every time your eyes meet you’ve half a mind to tell him you love him.

You’ve known each other a while, and he’s always had that effect. But here, on your first date, when the tension between you two is burning up the room and the feelings you kept hidden for so long are pretty much sitting on the table in front of him? Yeah long story short you’re both clearly nervous as all hell and neither of you know how to approach it. Telling him you love him in a panic attempt at easing into the night probably isn’t the way to go. But this date is just so different and it feels so real, your panic stems from more than just wanting to break the ice, it’s coming from the little voice in your head that’s telling you if this date goes the way you want it to… he’s it for you.

You can only hope to the god he spends so much time worshiping that he feels somewhat the same way.

You like Vessel.

You want him to like you back.

“Look, uh… we don’t have to do this. I’d never want to push you.”

His voice, which you’re sure is proof of heaven alone, snaps you right out of your panic. Then, gives you even worse panic.

“Huh? Why?”

There’s obvious worry in your tone, you know it. He picks up on it, because of course he does.

“I just worry you’re not really present. I’d hate for this to be something you’re just trying to get through, sometimes two people just aren’t supposed to go there… you know?”

His eyes are cast down. He doesn’t want to watch you agree with him. He can’t do it. He can’t make himself watch you sigh in relief. He can’t make himself watch you realise this was indeed a mistake. He can’t make himself smile at you as you tell him you’re sorry but he’s right.

“Oh god… Vessel I’m so sorry.”

Hm. If you listen close enough… you might just be able to hear the sound of his heart shattering in his chest over the clinking of the cutlery throughout the restaurant.

“No, please it’s okay. It happens. You’re still my-“

“It’s just been a long time since I’ve been this excited about a date, got a bit lost in my own head there for a moment. I’m sorry. I’m here I promise.”

Oh fucking Christ thank Sleep one hundred times to the moon and back again. His heart thumps wildly against his ribcage, he’s almost positive you can hear it. And he doesn’t even attempt to hide the sigh of relief that escapes him and the happy smile that graces his lips.

“That is… yeah that’s a relief. I won’t lie to you.”

He huffs a nervous laugh as he fiddles with the tablecloth hanging over the side of the table between you.

“I mean, there wouldn’t have been any hard feelings of course… but I’m really happy you still want to be here.”

You’re silent for a moment while you decide whether or not what you’re about to do is a bad idea or not. But you want to show him you’re serious about this date, you want him to see you enjoying his presence. You need to snap yourself out of it and make some moves.

So you get up.

His head snaps up and he watches you slide out of the booth with a look of complete dread. He straightens up. His hands fall to his sides and his face turns beet red. His jaw opens and closes as he tries to force words out but no sounds escape him. That is until you round the table and slide in next to him.

You offer him a little smile as your side presses against his. Your knees bump together under the table and your hands brush as you situate yourself. He uses his other hand to press his face into it. His voice muffled slightly as he groans quietly into it.

“Fucking Christ… you’re going to send me into an early grave.”

You can’t help the laugh that escapes you. You purposely bump his knees with your own this time, trying to lighten the mood a little.

“I’m sorry… did I scare you?”

“Yes. Yes you did. I thought I’d ruined it all.”

He laughs a little, and he looks down at where you’re pressed up against him. His cheeks are flushed but he looks happy. His eyes sparkle and when he grins down at you, all his teeth are on full display. It’s the kind of smile that would make your cheeks hurt a little bit. The kind that’s a bit awkward and feels too big for your face.

It suits him.

“I’m sorry, Vess. I really like you, I was worried about it not working and kind of got too deep into worrying about it.”

He blinks down at you, it’s a slow blink, his cheeks are still tinted red from your close proximity and you swear for one moment it looks like he’s got hearts in his eyes.

“Don’t panic, love. It’s definitely working.”

His voice is low, it changes the mood almost immediately and all of a sudden it’s too warm in this booth. Who’s idea was it to cozy up to him like this. It feels like you’re suffocating again, he’s so overwhelming when all he’s doing is speaking to you.

He was right before, the tablecloth that hangs over the side of the table really is that interesting. You can’t stop yourself from fiddling with it, you’re starting to feel awkward again. You hear him force a deep breath into his lungs above you before his very large very beautiful hand encompasses your much smaller one, and intertwines his fingers between yours. There’s a slight tremble, you can feel it when you squeeze his hand tight enough. You’re positive doing that made it worse but it’s so endearing that you can’t even feel guilty.

Everything about Vessel is so endearing.

“Thank you for saying yes to me.”

If you weren’t sitting so close you probably wouldn’t have heard him. He gazes down at you, eyes so full of hope. It makes your throat close up and need prickle through your chest.

“Of course, Vess. You thought I would have said no to you?”

“No. I didn’t think you would…”

Cheeky fucker.

“… but I’m just so happy you said yes. I’m excited to be here, like this, with you. I’m sure it’s obvious.”

You lean up and press a soft kiss to his cheek, this causes a chain reaction, starting with his furiously blushing cheeks (yet again), then he smiles so wide he has to look at the ceiling just to calm himself down, his breathing picks up and his hand squeezes yours where he’s holding it in his lap. He looks back down at you with a smile that says a lot. It’s a wobbly smile, his chin wrinkles up and his eyes squint a little. It screams hope. Like most of his body language does tonight. But this smile is the epitome of ‘I know you know exactly how I feel about you and I know you feel the same way.’

Nerves and excitement crackle in the air between you.

“I’m excited too. For tonight. And for our next date. And the ones after that. I’m sure that’s obvious.”

He nods at you, his wobbly smile grows. Somehow, you didn’t think it could get any bigger but it does. He’s gotta cast his eyes down, he looks at your intertwined hands and nods again, at them… to himself… to you? You’re not sure, but he’s sure of whatever he’s nodding about. And that feels good.

.

.

.

<3 <3 <3

Thank you for reading.

[corbonated]

Chapter 1: Fattening beginnings

A story about a guy who has always wanted to become massively fat, and with the green light from his therapist decides to dive head first into a new world of gluttony. (I have never written before , so if you have any thoughts, please share! Let me know if you all would want to read more!)

“I can’t believe I said all that.” I gasped, practically out of breath by how turned on I was. It had not been an hour since I had left my therapist’s office and I was already home with a few quarts of heavy cream I had just picked up from the store, standing in front of the mirror inspecting my body for what I hoped was the last time it’d ever be slender and toned.

A little over 3 hours earlier, I had walked into my therapists office, heart beating out of my chest, nervous as to how my therapist was going to react. I had never spoken about my deepest darkest desires before. My obsession with growing my own fat, morbidly obese, heavy body had consumed my thoughts and my dreams. I knew I had to tell someone before I did something irresponsible and committed to a lifestyle I couldn’t undo.

“Hi Dr. Fleming! It’s been a while!” I said, being extra chipper as to cover up how nervous I was. “Hey buddy! Glad to see ya come in today!” Dr. Fleming was a nice man, very slender with dark features and always very well put together. He always wore a smile and seemed to always care the utmost about comforting me about my issues. “What brings you in today? Anything new come up that’s eating away atcha?” I could feel my face burning with anticipation, my stomach growled, and I started to rub my sweaty palms onto my sweatpants. “Well yeah actually, something’s been on my mind recently - or well I guess it’s always kinda been there…” I couldn’t believe how easily the words were slipping out of my mouth, it was like it wasn’t even me talking, but something else deep inside of me itching to finally spill my guts. “You see… I’ve always been into bigger bodies. Of course you know this… but I’m attracted to them.” He looked at me like he was trying to read what I was saying off of my eyes. “Yeah buddy, we’ve talked about this. It’s completely normal to be attracted to plus size bodies. There’s nothing wrong with that.” Dr Fleming said with a smile and a nod. “You see, it’s not just that though… I don’t just like looking at bigger bodies… I want one of my own. I want to be big Dr.Fleming. Like huge obese belly hanging between my legs big.” Now that I had started talking, it’s like I couldn’t stop myself. The words just vomited right out of me. “I want to feel what it’s like to be restricted by how fat I am. Eat whatever I see and be an exhibition of pure gluttony wherever i go. I’m obsessed with the idea of being out of breath due to how massive my body is and how difficult it is to lug around. I want people to be shocked by how massive I’d gotten in such a short time… Dr.Fleming, I think I need to be huge. I’ve dealt this way for a while and it’s kinda becoming all I can think about.” As I slowly regain consciousness and catch my breath from my mind dump, I lock eyes with Dr. Fleming who’s sitting 5 feet from me on an identical leather chair to the one I’m in. “You seem really passionate about this.” He pauses for a second, his smile fades. “I think you should go for it. I mean be healthy about it and don’t make and brash decisions, but I think you should look into these desires. At least for a short period of time, give it a test run, then let’s reconvene and discuss how you feel. Who knows maybe you’ll have changed your mind by then.” He says shrugging with a smile. I can feel myself blushing from excitement.

Dr.Fleming and I shake hands as I get up to leave his office. We had spent another 45 minutes or so talking about normal things like work and friends, but my mind was in my belly. I needed to start this new life of gluttony fast.

“Hi! Did Dr. Fleming and you discuss a date for you to come back?” The beautiful front door receptionist asked bubbly. “Yeah actually, we talked about meeting again in 3 months.” I said returning her kind smile. “Sounds lovely, I’ll get that scheduled for ya!” She said waving as I turned to walk out of the building. Walking to my car I start thinking about how fast my life is going to turn upside down with my heart mind and gut all aligned towards putting on as much weight as possible. I decide as I’m getting into my car that I will take Dr Flemings advice as a challenge, and vow to gain as much weight as possible by the next time I see him.

Day dreaming about how fat I’ll be, I hardly notice I’m pulling into my local grocery store without even thinking about it. Without hesitation I park the car and go straight for the dairy section. I quickly scan the shelves looking for heavy cream. I throw 6 quarts (their whole stock) into my cart and head to the frozen section. 3 pints of icecream later, I’m heading to the checkout aisle. Without thinking I walk up to a clerk in one of the assisted checkout lanes. As I’m loading up the thousands of calories onto the conveyor. I watch as she looks at the cream and then to me puzzled. She doesn’t say anything but I can tell she doesn’t quite understand what such a slender guy could be doing with such fattening, sugar filled treats.

Now, back home standing in front of the mirror inspecting my naked body, i could feel my heart pumping. I quickly left to pull a chair up in front in front of the standing mirror, and promptly plopped myself down. I had two quarts of heavy cream and a pint of icecream melted and blended into a large container. I pulled the heavy container up to my lips and began chugging, feeling my mind go numb. Fighting the urge to close my eyes I watched in the mirror as my throat moved up and down as gulped the thousand of calories into my expanding gut. I started to breathe heavier out my nose as I could feel the cool liquid sitting heavy in my stomach. Nonetheless I committed to not stopping until the creamy goodness of 7,500 calories of weight gain shake was densely packed inside me.

With only a few gulps left I could feel my belly stretching. The sweet creamy concoction was expanding my poor belly to unhealthy proportions. I closed my eyes and muscled through it, amazed with how well I had done in my first chug of what was soon to be many. I let my arms go limp to my side, dropping the container to the ground. Letting out a large groan, I felt cream rolling down the corners of my mouth to my chin. My eyes closed from brain fog and my arms sore from holding this heavy container up for what felt like hours, I began to rub my protruding belly which was now visibly rotund and stiff to the touch. Naked, slouched in this chair, in front of the mirror, I rubbed my over filled gut until I fell asleep dreaming of what I was going to fill myself with tomorrow.

[torturedtypewritersdept]

the sun + the sand - pt. six - the proposition

↳PAIRING: bff!rafe cameron x fem!reader

↳SUMMARY:you have a stalker, but your best friend rafe won't let anything happen to you, even if he has to come clean about how he really feels.

↳WARNINGS: mentions of stalking, blackmail, inappropriate behavior (not from rafe), protective!rafe, etc.

↳A/N: this is a repost from my old blog @illicitfixations + @lovelornanonymity. all of my works are being reposted to this one + the previous blog has been deactivated.

The aluminum of the boat you sat in swayed back and forth, the ebb and flow of the current beneath it creating a rocking pattern against your skin. It had always made you nauseous – being on the water. There was something about the unsteady, uncoordinated movement of the waves that reminded you how much you were like them, floating through life with no destination. You had always followed what everyone else was doing and when you were drowning, Rafe clung to you; he had always been the life vest protecting you amidst the water trying to permeate your lungs. The nausea was overwhelming as you listened to Pope spew facts he had learned at the science camp he had spent the first few weeks of his summer at; his obsession with becoming a coroner shining through as he led the conversation. You couldn’t quite wrap your mind around what was being said the same way John B’s arm draped around your shoulders, you should’ve been enjoying affection from a boy, especially one so sought after. But, you couldn’t because really, it all felt wrong. It always did when you spent time with this crowd. Though the blue and pink hues of the decorated cotton candy sky was a nice addition to your sunset boat ride, you still felt out of place. You knew you would no matter what. Even after John had practically begged you like a puppy to join the gang for this rendezvous, promising JJ would be nowhere in sight – it still felt odd and wrong to be there, to be amidst his friends, when all you could think about was Rafe. You were torn away from the thoughts that your brain was creating at the speed of light as your phone chimed. 

Unknown: you look so beautiful today. 

The screen read a sweet message and you wondered who it was from, it couldn’t be Rafe. If he was going to say something sweet, he wouldn’t text you from a private number. You quickly closed and locked your phone thinking it must be nothing more than a wrong number, even though the compliment gave you the resemblance of butterflies in your gut. 

Unknown: don’t ignore me. 

This time as your phone chimed, the message changed in tone and you decided to reply – a snarky, sarcastic comment for the person who remained anonymous was what you dished out. 

To unknown: It’s hard to reply when I don't know who I’m speaking to. 

As quickly as you had hit send, another message appeared in the queue. 

Unknown: watch your mouth or I'll gut you like a fish. 

You swallowed thickly at the words that littered your screen, unsure of who was behind them. You couldn’t think of anyone who would talk to you like that unless it was one of your boys playing a joke. But quickly pushed away the thought. Surely, they’d never speak to you that way even if they were kidding, or so you hoped. 

“Are you alright, y/n?” 

John B’s voice echoed against your ears as tears pricked your eyes and panic rose through your chest, the walls of your heart contracting simultaneously, you subconsciously recognized the tells of an anxiety attack creeping its way up your throat. John B’s lack of awareness, lack of knowing you the way Rafe did was just one more reason why you needed to be away from him. 

“R-rafe, take me to Rafe. Please.” 

You begged and he nodded though reluctant, wanting you to trust him and confide in him the same way that you did Rafe. He wanted you to be his peach, to regard him in your heart the same way you regarded the Cameron boy, though part of him knew it would never happen. Girls like you weren’t meant to end up with guys like him and even if you loved him in the same way he loved you, he knew Rafe Cameron would die before he ever let it happen. 

-

John B barely had time to get the hms pogue adjacent to the Cameron’s dock before you jumped off the ledge, clearing the width between the aluminum and the wood of the pier. You needed Rafe and you needed him now, it left no time for pleasantries and frankly, you didn’t care about the routledge boy enough to provide him with a false sense of comfort, a false sense that you were his when you weren’t. So, you did what you knew how to – you ran. Your feet padded against the wood of the dock as fast as they could, your breath uneven as you made it to the end and scoured the property for your person. He stood by Kelce and Topper at the pool, his tan skin stretched across broad shoulders, muscles contracting as he laughed and sipped from the red solo cup in his hand. You made your way toward him, almost knocking him over as you latched on to him like a child after losing their parents in the grocery store. 

“I know those arms, anywhere.” 

He chuckled against you, leaning into you as you hugged him from behind. You stilled against him, muscles retracting in relief as just his aura brought you an immeasurable amount of peace. His laughter stopped as he felt tiny drops hit the skin at the middle of his spine and before you could protest he turned around, taking you in. His blue orbs searched you for injury, it wasn’t like you to look so panicked, especially in public settings. This behavior was not like you in any sense and he couldn’t figure out for the life of him what was going on. So, he did what he did best. He picked you up, guiding your arms and legs around his neck and torso in a koala like hold and carried you to his bedroom, knowing that whatever was plaguing you couldn’t be shared in front of the other two stooges. As he entered the threshold of his bedroom, he placed you onto the blue satin sheets that you loved so much, the coolness against your skin was already soothing you as Rafe parted your knees and wedged his body between them, balancing on the balls of his feet. Your eyes remained focused on the tan skin of his chest, his pectoral muscles built to such a degree that it made him look like a c-cup. You smiled briefly at the thought. 

“Peach, baby, what’s going on?” 

He asked, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear and rubbing his thumb across the skin of your cheek. 

“I-, were you and the boys sending me weird texts earlier?” 

You stuttered as you asked, afraid of his answer being yes, but also afraid of it being no. You wanted so badly for it to be a practical joke and for you not to have a reason to be scared. 

“No, baby. Why would you ask that?” 

You didn’t respond, simply handing over the phone, placing it in his hands and watching as he took in the conversation. His eyes darted back and forth as read the contents of the screen, stopping only when he was finished. 

“Are you alright, sweetheart?” 

He questioned, remaining in his spot between your legs. 

“I’m fine – that’s the last thing I need to hear right now, Rafe.” 

He swallowed thickly before retorting. 

“Well, what do you need to hear? What am I supposed to say about this? About you showing up on my doorstep every time you’re in trouble?” 

His words stung – he knew they had, shit, they had felt like vomit expelling from him, the twist of his insides after he lurched over the toilet ever present. That’s what he felt as he watched your face contort in sadness. 

“I don’t know, tell me this is fake, that it’s a joke, that I don’t have a reason to be scared. I mean, this paired with all the other weird shit, it just, I don’t know, okay? Sorry – I’ll go. I just didn’t know what to do. But, hey – I’ll figure it out.” 

You said, swaying on your feet as you stood, preparing to walk away from the room of the boy you loved. Your brain didn’t process any of what he said in normal emotion, it only registered that he was sick of you and you were adding stress to him and that was the last thing you ever wanted to do. He pulled you in by your wrist, making your face collide with the muscles of his chest as he rubbed your hair away from your face and craned his neck to plant a kiss on your forehead. 

“I’m sorry, baby. I didn’t mean that the way it came out. I want to help you, okay? You are not going to navigate this by yourself, peach. I’d die if something happened to you. Now, I think I may have an idea.” 

You pulled your head away from his chest, meeting his eyes with question laced in yours. 

“What did you have in mind?” 

You asked, moving to sit on the bed again and Rafe followed your lead, plopping down parallel to you before turning to face you. 

“Well – it seems like all this stuff is related, that weirdo at your house and these texts. I’m worried someone is stalking you, sweetheart.” 

He said, blue eyes boring into yours and you had to fight the urge to laugh at him. 

“Stalking? Come on, Rafe – as if. I’m not special enough for someone to stalk me.” 

You muttered.

“Peach – yes you are. Just because you can’t see that, doesn’t mean it’s not possible, baby.” 

He replied, grabbing your hands in his. 

“Okay, so what’s your big idea? I mean what are we supposed to do? We don’t even know who it could be.”  

You stated matter-of-factly. 

“I think we should be boyfriend and girlfriend.”

He replied and you were shell-shocked, the question and confusion written on your face. 

“Huh? Like for real?” 

You asked. 

“I mean – I need to protect you and come on, it’s not so far off for us, is it? The idea of being your fake boyfriend for a while, I mean. No one will come near you if you’re with me, sweetheart and it just means more time with my Georgia peach.” 

He said, smiling from ear-to-ear. 

“How long are we supposed to keep this up?” 

You questioned. ‘Forever, I hope’ he thought as he stared into your sweet face. 

“As long as it takes.” 

He replied, pushing his thoughts down. 

“Okay, but we have to make it look real, Rafe. People will figure it out otherwise, we can’t just act like we usually do.” 

You said and he curled his eyebrow upward. 

“What do you propose, Peach?” 

He asked.

“I mean – we could kiss?” 

You said, almost in the form of a question and he leaned forward, pressing his lips to yours. You were shocked, mostly because it felt the way it was supposed to, the way you had always daydreamed about, electricity running from your mouth to the tips of your toes. You pulled away after a moment and looked at him. 

“Just practicing.” 

He said, a smirk lifting on one side of his mouth. You couldn’t help but smile and wished so badly that one day, this would all be real. 

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[fashionteahouse]

Can I please request a Paul x reader where he’s sending her snapchats of him while she’s out for a girls day with Kim and Emily and when they get home everyone starts teasing him about always trying to get in the readers pants😂

Alright 😂 hope you enjoy :)

cybertwee - paul x reader

The day was nice. The nice weather alone put Emily in a good mood to go out and have a girl’s day with you and Kim. Kim and Emily were your two best friends.

Kim picks you and Emily up, music blaring while you all sang along like you all were in concert. You decide to record a snapchat video, to simply showcase your fun. You add it to your story.

You all pull up to the go-to nail salon. You didn’t want to get much done, just something to polish up your finger nails to them look fresh and neat. Walking in, the smell of nail polish and acetone fills the air. The sounds of people chattering and sights of people getting dolled up.

The lady from the front desk greets you all with a smile. “Hi. Walk in or appointment?”

Emily greets back with, “Hi. We’re walk in.”

The lady nods and asks you all to wait for about 10 minutes before finding workers that were free. You are all okay with this, not in a rush to go anywhere anytime soon.

You sit in the middle of Emily and Kim and scroll through your phone to pass the time. You were in the middle of reading something when your phone vibrates.

Paul sent you a snap!

Displays on the top of your phone screen. You open the app and see what his snap entails of. It’s not long, maybe about five seconds long in total. It’s just him lounging without a shirt of course and he’s moving the camera to get his best angles. The smoothest thirst trap, of course.

You didn’t realize Emily had stopped talking to Kim about nail colors until, “Oh god is that Paul?” she asked in a playful tone.

You nod and chuckle as Kim asked, “What?”

“Already starting with Y/N. We haven’t been out of the house more than an hour.” Emily explains.

Kim shakes her head and laughs.

Since you were sitting in front of the window, you capture your angle, shoot your best picture, taking advantage of the good lighting.

Not even a minute later, he sends another one, it’s him recording himself again but he angles it at a certain part, going lower with the camera, teasing. He captions it with, “miss me?”

Before you could respond he’s already typing. He slides up to your story and responds with two heart eyed emoji’s.

“Earth to Y/N”. Kim says to you, wavering her hand a bit to bring your attention back to the present environment.

“Yes?” you reply.

“Come on, the lady is ready for you.” Kim says and points to a woman motioning you to come on over. Kim and Emily are already situated and walking to their spot with their designated nail tech.

“Did you pick a color?” the woman asks you.

You were too entrapped into what Paul was sending you to the point you didn’t even pick one.

“No not yet.” you sheepishly reply.

“It’s okay, you can pick it out later, let me just get you started.” The lady replied with and removes your existing polish that’s already on your finger nails. She then starts to cut down your nails some to even then out.

Your hands are now soaking in the small bowl, to soften up your cuticles so the tech can cut them. The nail tech gets up and gives you a wheel of colors for you to choose from. You opt for your favorite color because you haven’t quite made your mind up.

She dries your hands, cut your cuticles and tells you to wash your hands, dead skin evident on your fingers. You walk to the sink and wash them with soap and water. After you dry them, you don’t see the nail tech yet so you send Paul a snap with your fingers subtly showing.

“Mind helping me pick out a color?”

You sit back down and Emily and Kim are finishing up. Paul sends another one.

He tells you which color and finishes it off with:

“I want to see how they look when your hands are on me”

”You’re still going back and forth with him?” Emily asks.

You slightly jump and she laughs at your reaction and eyes the new color you picked out. “Let me guess, that’s what he chose for you?”

“Yes. Now leave me alone.” you say playfully.

Emily is done and she sits in an empty chair next to you and watches the nail tech apply color and make conversation to prevent boredom. Your nails are finished and you join Kim to dry your nails. When your nails are dry, you send him a picture of the finished product.

You all get back into the car and decide to do some clothes shopping. You want to just get a few basic staple clothes. You two are walking through the store, looking through different items when your phone buzzes again.

Paul sent you a snap!

Lights up on display once again.

“Y/N!” Kim says to grab your attention once again.

“Should I get this blue top? Or this red top?” she asks for your opinion.

“The red”. You quickly say, so you can see what Paul has sent you. She doesn’t notice the urgency in your voice, so she goes off into the fitting room to try them on just for last confirmation.

You open it. It’s a picture of him and he just says:

“I have an idea of what they can wrap around.”

You snap him back another selfie snap with clothes in the background.

“Come on Y/N..Will you take a break from Paul and get some clothes?” Emily says.

“Fine, fine.” you say and actually look through clothes.

Kim comes out and it turns out that she actually likes how the red top looked on her.

You look at a lace top and immediately like it. It’s not too revealing but it looks very classy and delicate.

“Im going to try this on.” you tell the girls.

“Try not to get lost in there.” Kim teases while Emily laughs and you roll your eyes.

You try on the top and it fits perfect. It looks how you would’ve thought it would be.

Paul sent you a snap

You open it, now that you’re alone and it’s a video of him with a few fingertips teasing the top of his shorts and it captions:

“Try something on and let me see.”

You send him a video of you showing off your top.

A knock is on the door.

“Y/N. Are you okay in there?” Kim asks.

“Yeah! I’m coming out now.” you reassure her.

You come out and show them what you put on.

“Cute!” Emily and Kim say in unison.

After getting a couple of more items, you all are ready to head back to the house. You all walk in and everybody says hi and welcome back. Emily immediately shows off what she got and asks Sam if he likes her nails. Kim does the same with Jared.

Paul comes to you and hugs you as if he hasn’t seen you in 2 whole years. “Did you have fun?” he asks you. You just nod and look back at him.

“She did. You should know.” Emily says and snickers.

“What are you talking about?” Sam asks in confusion.

“Paul kept snapping Y/N. It was hot and heavy.” Kim teases. Everyone besides you and Paul start laughing.

“Was that what you were doing? I caught him a couple of times posing.” Quil says.

“You were really interrupting our girl’s day just to let Y/N know how much you want to get in her pants.” Kim says and laughs again.

“Yea so?” Paul just says and the snickers from everyone didn’t die down not a bit.

[starhvney]

Hi hello!! I absolutely adore your writing and I hope you're having a good day!

I was wondering if maybe I could request a (mystreet) Zane x Reader with a reader who loves spoiling + pampering him all while he's still wrapping his mind around the fact anyone could even like him romantically lol. If not no worries!!

𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: mystreet zane x fem!reader

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: when you don't expect love to find you, it's hard to comprehend when it does. for zane, it's a mystery.

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒: fluff, slight hurt/comfort? zane cries just a lil bit, otherwise super cute

𝐂𝐖: none?

𝐀/𝐍: i made this a bit more emotional than anon probably intended with the request. but i’m weak for men who are vulnerable so i had to do it to em. i have a soft spot for zane i want to be besties with him my lil emo pookie wookie. also guys i finished this after drinking half a bottle of wine so if there's any typos i'm sorry lolll

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

zane had gone quiet ten minutes ago, his eyes spacing away as he blankly nodded along to whatever you said. you ignored it at first, trying to figure out if it was just you overthinking things or if something about him was really off.

you had excitedly asked him over to hang out. it wasn’t the first time, but this time you decided to be extra affectionate and doting on him. fresh baked heart shaped cookies were laid out on the coffee table as you ushered him to rest on the couch with you. you turned on whatever show he wanted while you had him rest his head on your lap.

sliding his scarf down his face, you lean over him as you rub his cheeks with your thumbs. it was a shame he covered and hid his face so often. while he acted different from his brothers, he still most definitely looked like them, and the ro’meave boys never had any bad complaints about their looks. 

porcelain skin somehow was perfectly clear, save for the freckles that painted along his straight nose and high cheekbones. thick dark hair starkly contrasted against his face, the same color beautifully framing his bright icy-blue eyes. 

“you’re so pretty.” you whisper. 

the apple of his cheeks glow red and his lips warble, his fingers trailing across the fabric of his mask as if he was tempted to pull it back up to hide away.

“you’re prettier.” he refutes, the genuineness and uncertain shyness in his tone enough to keep you from teasing him.

you merely tap his nose, before your fingers trail up to his thick black hair. gingerly, you pull it back, fully exposing his other eye and the light scar that nicked his eyelid and brow. with a satisfied hum, you lean back to grab the bag you had prepared before.

“what’s that?”

“skin care.”

“for…?”

“you! will you let me?”

“...if you want.”

you quietly cheer in victory, a smile on your face. his lips twitch up and his eyes glisten as up at you while you begin your routine. as soon as you start massaging products into his face, he sleepily drifts his attention to the tv. after a moment his muscles go limp against you, a deep exhale leaving through his nose. 

you poke his nose and lean down to kiss his freckles, giggling as his ears grow red. one kiss follows another, and another, and another, as your lips touch and trace each mark along his pale skin. he made a whimpering noise of protest, pale hands reaching up to hold your face in place as your lips had threatened another kiss on his soft cheeks. 

“hm?” you question. dark lashes hide his eyes as they dart away from your face and towards the screen.

“it’s nothing.” he mumbles, rolling his bottom lip between his teeth as his hands drop back down to his side.

your eyebrows pinch at his sudden mood change, but you don’t question him further, reaching over to feed him a cookie instead.

“okay…” you simply return, patting his cheek as he chews the sweet snack. “are the cookies good?”

“mhm.” he nods, voice warbling as he hums.

a moment passes, the background noise of the show the only other noise in the room as you stare down at him. his lashes still hide his eyes from you as they brush along his cheekbones.

“what’s wrong?” you finally question.

the question is met with silence as you feel his shoulders tense against your legs. your fingers reach out to gently brush against his cheeks.

“zane, look at me.”

finally his eyes drift back up to yours, icy blue glazed over with emotion.

“why are you so quiet?”

“i’m just… confused, i guess.” he mutters.

instead of asking him, you patiently wait for him to continue, tilting your head as you lightly trace small shapes across his face.

“well, confused isn’t the right word… or maybe it is?” he groans, pale hands reaching up to rub against his face. “you’re just… so sweet. i can barely imagine any girl giving me the time of day, let alone you. i guess i still just don’t understand why you’d want to spend your time and energy on me. it’s not like i was your last choice, either. you’re beautiful and unbearably kind. You could have anyone you wanted. And i’m just… me.”

for a moment you don’t know how to respond, completely taken by his words. your fingers pause against his jawline, and he freezes at your following silence. his eyes widen in regret, and for a moment you swear he looks on the verge of tears before he shoots up from his spot on your lap.

“it’s nothing, forget it.” he mumbles quickly, facing away from you.

“no! no, it’s not nothing, i was just surprised!” you leap forward to hug him from behind, voice scrambling to comfort him. “i didn’t think you felt that way.”

your hands connect over his chest, feeling his heart thud in his chest. his rib cage stutters as he takes in a shaky breath, one hand reaching up to grip onto yours.

“zane, i chose you because i love you. i treat you like this because i truly want to.”

slowly, he twists his body to look back at you. you’re barely able to see the shine of the tear running down his cheek before he buries his head in the crook of your neck, practically tackling you back down into the couch. his hands tightly wrap around you, holding you close as he lays on top of you. your heart swells at his vulnerability, a side he had rarely shown to you. 

“i love you.” his voice whispers back to you, the words barely loud enough to be heard if you weren’t paying attention.

“when you’re not pretending to be a grumpy, unhappy little grouch, you’re one of the sweetest men i’ve ever met.” you continue, rubbing one hand along his back while the other runs through his hair.

the neckline of your shirt feels damp, and you feel another shaky exhale against your collarbone.

“thank you.”

“i adore you, zane. you don’t need to thank me for something that isn’t a chore to me.”

his head shifts, turning towards the screen as he quietly stares at the show playing on the screen. you pull the blanket from the back of the couch and drape it over the two of you, hugging him to your chest and continuing to rub his back.

“want to stay here for a while?” you ask softly.

“...yeah.”

©starhvney, 2024. please do not steal or repost my works as your own.