#god this took way longer than i thought it would

[stellamarielu]

jack abbot who is unknowingly pouty and stand-offish when he is jealous and is viscerally irritated when he realizes because he believes he’s too old to feel this possessive 🫣

anyone down for a quick possessive jack abbot drabble with a sprinkle of frank langdon bc why the hell not??? frankie mention is harmless but i want them both to want me let’s be honest.

Jack never saw himself as a possessive man. He was extremely secure, and hardly ever jealous.

But that was before he noticed the way Frank Langdon always lingered in your presence.

At first he didn’t pay too much attention to it, he would remind himself that the man had a family at home, and chalked it up to nothing more than an affectionate personality and friendly demeanor.

Until he realized Frank was no where near affectionate nor friendly.

In fact, he was known for his blunt, no bullshit personality, so to see him smiling at you so often and striking up small talk between patients, he began to question his intentions.

Jack’s apprehensive state of mind started with narrow eyed stares while he watched Langdon pick up his stride to catch up with you in the open walkways of the ED. The threatening glares quickly evolved into subconsciously clenched fists when he overheard the way you would cackle at some of his comments.

cackle.

The same outburst of giggles that he usually pulled from you when you laid next to him in bed, only now he had to hear them at the end of another man's jokes.

The worst part was that he was only privy to a handful of interactions between you and Langdon, the ones that took place at the end of his shift and the beginning of yours.

Once Jack left for the day, you were completely at the mercy of the conventionally attractive, blue eyed doctor for the remainder of your work day.

And the real kicker, was that even if he was on the day shift with you and Langdon… even if he was around to witness the extra attention you were getting from another male coworker, he couldn’t do anything about it, because you weren’t even his in the first place.

Or at least he didn't know if you were his.

You certainly had a physical relationship. Having been sleeping together for nearly two months now, there was no question that you were romantically involved.

You stayed over at his place, he stayed over at yours, you talked every day, shared meals, kissed each other goodbye in the morning, and yet he still wasn’t certain of the title of your relationship.

God, he was nearly 50. Formally asking you to be his girlfriend felt so trivial, but the longer he had to walk past Langdon shamelessly flirting with you, he thought he might just get down on one knee in front of the entire hospital just to shut him up.

Langdon was currently leaning unnecessarily far over the triage desk, captivating your attention with whatever stupidity was spewing from his mouth and Jack couldn’t take it anymore.

His face was rigid, and body tense as he pushed toward the back doors of the ED, backpack slung over one shoulder.

He brushed past you on his way out, no good bye, no silent wink hidden from the rest of the staff, not even a subtle smile. Just walked right past you as Frank continued telling you about the new Mediterranean restaurant down the street.

You held up a quick finger, signaling the man across from you to pause his thought, barely acknowledging him as you followed Jack through the sliding doors of the ambulance bay.

"Hey, you okay?"

Your voice stops him in his tracks. The sweet cadence immediately making him feel like the world's biggest asshole.

“You should get back in there before your boyfriend starts to worry about you.” He turns to face you, his words forming through a smile on his lips.

It's clearly a joke, one that immediately makes your brows furrow in confusion.

“Langdon?”

Hearing his name on your lips makes his jaw tick.

You stop for a second, looking back through the glass of the sliding doors. Frank is there, fidgeting with the stethoscope at his neck and talking with Dana, glancing out at you and Jack mid conversation.

“Oh.” Your voice is quiet as you turn back to look at the man in front of you, adjusting his backpack on his shoulder.

Here you were, thinking Jack had a rough night or a challenging case that made him stoic and closed off, when in reality he was just jealous.

“Jack Abbot are you jealous?”

He doesn't respond, just takes a deep breath, chest heaving under his inhale as he keeps his eyes on you.

“It’s Frank.” You say it like you actually can't believe he would imply anything could ever happen between the two of you.

Sure, you and Frank got along well. Of course you were close, you spent nearly 50 hours a week with the guy. But at the end of the day, he was just an annoyingly condescending resident with a good sense of humor. He wasn’t someone you were even remotely interested in exploring a relationship with. He wasn’t Jack.

“you are the only man working at this hospital that I have feelings for.” Stepping forward to close the gap between your bodies, you place your hands on either side of his arms, holding him steady and reiterating that he is your sole focus.

“What about over at St. Johns?”

Classic Jack brushing off the seriousness of his feelings with a joke, bringing up the possibility that you might find another lover at the hospital three blocks away.

“I can’t make any promises there, I hear they have a really hot orthopedic surgeon.”

He shakes his head at your response, a wide smile stretching across his features.

“Seriously. It’s just you for me.”

There it was. A branding of exclusivity.

You seek out his gaze, tilting your head slightly to the side, and a weight leaves his chest at your words of reassurance.

“Dinner tonight? Your place?” You place a quick kiss on his cheek as the questions flood past you lips.

He hums in response, busy looking over your shoulder, “your boyfriend’s staring at us.”

You almost roll your eyes at the smug expression washing over his face as he watches Langdon through the glass.

“My boyfriend, is right here.”

This time your lips find his in a careful, prolonged embrace. A kiss that everyone on the other side of the sliding doors is sure to be gaping at— your relationship laid out in the open air of the ambulance bay in front of anyone who cares to watch.

[tom-whore-dleston]

Lot of Funny Business

Pairing: Robert ‘Bob’ Reynolds x f. reader

Word Count: 2.4k

This fic includes: sorta spoilers from Thunderbolts*, smut (barely plot), Bob is a dom, heavy making out, dry humping, spanking, teasing, dirty talk, fingering, nipple play, doggystyle, missionary, pussy slapping, cum tasting, interrupted orgasm, cunnilingus (from the back 🤭), couch sex, cum swallowing

Summary: You and Bob show the Thunderbolts that you can be trusted to hold down the Tower together without supervision.

Notes: Request no. 1 of Build-a-Bob Workshop complete 🤗Thank you @taivantaylor for the request! In the process of working on the other requests I’ve been sent so far, but don’t worry babes, I see every single one and I’m so very excited to write them 🥰😘

request:  Choose Me : Bob x fem!reader Hear Me: 15 minutes- sabrina carpenter Stuff Me: smut Dress me: Shoes - unresolved sexual tension Accessories - “youre wearing way too many clothes for what i have in mind” orrr “i had a very nice dream that started like this”

“Now, we’ll only be gone for 15 minutes. Don’t destroy the place, please,” Bucky called from the elevator door. Ava, Yelena, John, and Alexei had already huddled into the lift while Bucky held it open. They were on their way to a briefing with Valentina and Mel, which you and Bob both knew would take way longer than 15 minutes. It took Bucky the same amount of time for him to go over the rules you and Bob had to follow while they were gone.

“Don’t worry, we won’t!” You shouted after Bucky, eyes still focusing on your Nintendo Switch. Your legs were sprawled over Bob’s lap as he pretended to busy himself with a book he took from Bucky’s bookshelf. His face looked unbothered and blank to the team, but the side eye he gave you along with the quirk of his lip basically told you he’d rather destroy something else.

“Bye, be good, okay, Bob?” The quiet man sitting with you on the couch turned towards the team, flashing them a jolly smile and a thumbs up. He turned back to the book as your teammates disappeared behind the elevator doors. 

As the elevator dinged, Bob tossed the book behind him, not caring where it landed and you dropped your gaming device on the arm of the couch. In an instant, you climbed onto Bob’s lap, desperately attaching your lips onto his while wrapping around him like a koala. Bob caressed your lower back as his soft lips danced in sync with yours. You squeezed your legs tighter around his hips, clothed groins rubbing together in a heated delight.

“God, I thought they would never shut up and leave,” you breathed against Bob’s mouth. 

He smirked into your kiss. “I know right? They act like we can’t behave ourselves.” His lips trailed to your jaw, grazing his teeth along your jawline. “They think we’re children or something.”

“Well, if they saw me on top of you like this, then of course they’ll think we can’t behave ourselves.” You giggled as his aftershave tickled your neck. “But, I don’t care. They can watch us all they want.” Bob stilled underneath you, a darkness stirring inside him. A lustful kind of darkness.

“Someone’s a bad girl today,” Bob noted with a husky voice. His crotch grew harder against your wet center. You bit your lip, seeing Bob’s baby blue eyes turn a stormy blue.

“First, you lay your legs on my lap, trying to act all sweet and innocent in front of the others. Then, you rub up on my dick with those sexy legs of yours. I bet you knew how hard you were making me. Wanted to see me come in my pants. Little tease, you.” A large hand whacked down on your ass, causing you to yelp and rub against Bob more. 

“Now, you tell me you want me to fuck the shit out of you in front of our friends, is that right, baby girl?” His voice was raspy and low in your ear. “Tell me you like being a bad girl for me.”

Your mind was fuzzy as his words and hot breath against your ear put you under a spell. “Yesss.”

Next thing you know, Bob cupped your chin, forcing your eyes to meet his. Bob raised an eyebrow, a sinister smile painted on his face. One of the perks of teasing Bob’s brains out was seeing him unleash his dominant side. He was always careful and gentle with you, making sure to never go past your or his limits. Yet, with him, you weren’t entirely opposed to testing how far he could take you.

“Get on the floor, baby. Need you on your hands and knees.” You immediately followed his orders. Without leaving his spot from the couch, Bob wasted no time in spanking you three times painfully close to your pulsing cunt. He continued, “Now let’s try that again, baby girl. Tell me you like being a bad girl for me.”

“Yes, Bob, I love being a bad girl for you!” Your delicate whimpers were music to Bob’s ears, yet he craved more.

“That’s my baby girl!” A finger traced up your slit, the soaked fabric pulling a wicked smirk from Bob. “You’re wearing too many clothes for what I had in mind.” With that, he swiftly yanked your shorts down, moaning upon the sight of your bare ass and dripping pussy.

Your voice yanked him out of his trance. “Better hurry up, Bob. The gang will be back any minute now-”

Smack!

“C’mon baby girl, you know they’re full of it! Any interaction with Val and Mel is gonna be at least an hour. I’m gonna take advantage of this alone time with my girl.” You almost missed the hint of romance in his words before he flipped that switch again. “Besides, if I remember correctly, you said something about not caring if they caught me worshipping you like the goddess you are.” Those words alone were enough to shut you up.

Bob ripped his shirt off, his abs glowing in the fluorescent light. Then, he pulled you flat against his chest, gripping one of your boobs while the other hand flew straight to your clit. He muttered a ‘fuck this’ before tearing your shirt off you and returning his hands back to where they were.

“Love how these tits feel in my hands! Especially when I do this.” His fingertip flicked against your nipple as he simultaneously rubbed tight circles against your nub. You threw your head back against his shoulder as you moaned and squirmed for him.

“F-fuck, Bob! S-so fuckin good!” You whined pathetically as your boyfriend tormented you with his hands alone. All you could do was cling onto his meaty thighs to ground you from making a mess on the tile.

“I know, baby girl,” Bob cooed, lightly kissing your sweaty temple. “Bet you can’t wait for me to fill this pussy up, huh?” As he spoke, he playfully slapped your clit, causing your breath to hitch. 

“Jesus, Bob! Just fuck me already, please, baby, please!”

Bob chuckled, bringing his now drenched fingers to his mouth, savoring your juices on his tongue. He placed you back on your hands and knees, except this time, he pushed your upper body against the floor slowly. As you’re pressed against the hard cold floor, he hooked his thumbs under the waistband, dragging his pants down until his cock whipped out from behind the fabric. 

“You really are my bad little girl. But I can never say no to you.”

Without further exchange of words, Bob tapped his cock against your entrance before inserting the tip inside you. He heard you hiss from the sudden stretch, soothing you with quiet shushes and pets against your back.

“I know, baby, I gotchu. I’ll be gentle with you.” Bob slowly shoved himself further into you, listening to your pain turn to pleasure. Once he was halfway inside you, he started thrusting back and forth, clasping his large hands on your hips. You rested your cheek on the ground to catch a glimpse of your boyfriend fucking you from behind. He looked absolutely delicious with his mouth slightly open and pouting and his eyebrows knitted, causing creases in his forehead.

“Like seeing how good I fuck you? If only they could see how sexy you look for me.” Bob slammed into you over and over again until he bottomed out inside you. Feeling him fill you up entirely made you cry out, your breath fogging the glass floor. Your walls clenched around his length as if it were life support, causing him to curse loudly.

“God damn, baby! Keep gripping me like that and you’re gonna make me come.”

You backed up into his thrusts, rolling your hips in a circular motion. The moans Bob let out were straight out of a porn video, which egged you to increase your movements on him. You both got so lost in the sounds of your faltered breathing and slapping of skin that you both almost missed a phone call from Yelena. Stopping your motions, you both listened as an automated voice sounded from the intercom notifying you that Yelena was calling. 

“Answer call.” You groaned loudly, annoyed that your friend couldn’t let you have an orgasm without checking in on you. A holographic screen popped out from the middle of the living room, showing sound waves of Yelena’s voice from wherever she was.

“Hey, guys! How y’all doing?” The Russian spy asked, unaware of the situation you and Bob were in. While you spoke for you and Bob, your boyfriend took it upon himself to gingerly pull out of you, causing you to wince from the loss of contact. Luckily, he immediately replaced his cock with his tongue. You gasped, jolting forward, but Bob pulled you back against his face, pinning you in place as he licked the desire from your hole.

Yelena stopped whatever she was talking about with you. “Everything okay over there?” You were unable to conjure a coherent sentence as Bob lapped your pussy.

“Uh- Yeah. Just..playing Mario Kart with Bob.” You began to awkwardly laugh before it was cut off by a gasp. All thanks to Bob and his skillful tongue. “And it’s getting intense.” A faint ‘fuck’ escaped your lips as Bob sucked your clit, the tip of his nose brushing against your opening.

“Okay, now play nice you two!” Yelena responded, still not picking up on what was going on through the call. If only she knew how you and Bob were playing at that moment. “Sorry, it’s taking so long, but you know Val. All talk and no action. We’ll be back soon, though. Promise.”

Thankfully, Yelena ended the call before you could let out another whimper. Without warning, Bob scooped you up off the floor, tossing you onto the couch with ease. He couldn’t help but smirk at how drunk he got you from eating you out.

“Well, now that that’s over…” Bob pinned your hands above your head while lining up his cock at your entrance. “Where were we?” He flashed a quick smile before roughly thrusting into you until his balls were pressed against your ass. Your mouths fell open simultaneously, relishing the feeling of you both connected again. You pulled him close to you, sealing your lips against his as if he were an icy glass of water you craved in the middle of a scorching desert. Bob pounded into you as you tangled your fingers in his damp curls.

You separated your lips from his, praising him for good he made you feel while you stroked his scalp and pushed him further into you by wrapping your legs around him. His tip poked that spot deep inside you that always had you rolling your eyes and shaking like a leaf. Bob knew the effect this had on you, which motivated him to focus on that spot until you were screaming his name like a prayer. And he was more than focused. Determined even to send you to the edge.

“Yes, Bob, don’t stop, baby! Make me come, please! I’ll be good, I swear. Just wanna come so bad.” You were a blabbering mess and so so close to that sweet release. All Bob had to do was whisper filthy things in your ear while angling your hips up to penetrate you deeper.

“Come for me, baby girl! Fuck, wanna feel this dick get all wet and sloppy from you. Look so good taking me so deep like this. Bet you’ll be feeling me deep until I fuck you next.” Bob’s dirty talk paired with him holding you at an angle was the perfect mixture to get you falling down the pit of pleasure. He started chasing after his own release as you throbbed around him, coating his cock with your wetness. 

“Oh god, I’m gonna come! Open that mouth for me, baby.” You lazily opened your mouth for him as he pulled out again to hover over you, jerking himself off until spurts of cum dropped into your mouth. You slowly swallowed his load little by little as he panted for air with his thighs on either side of your head. Bob crashed onto the couch next to you, curling next to your warm, sticky body. 

“See? We were perfectly fine without supervision. Bucky and Yelena need to leave us alone in the Tower more often.” You kissed his nose while twirling a strand of Bob’s hair with your finger. 

Bob giggled, “I agree. We can be as loud as we want and no one can tell us to be quiet.”

“Let’s just hope we don’t get interrupted again.” You added. There was a moment of peaceful silence, aside from your heavy breathing and heart beats. Bob sat up, stretching his limbs before gathering your clothes together. He helped you off the couch and into your clothes before you did the same for him. You both shared a loving kiss before resuming to the couch with Bob spooning you. 

While you were cuddling, he watched you play Animal Crossing, mimicking the villagers’ gibberish and placing little pecks from your temple down to the crook of your neck. In the midst of your laughter, you heard the elevator door ding and your team members filed out the door. You and Bob attempted to fix your posture on the couch but they all looked at you with raised eyebrows.

“Geez, you two, save that for the bedroom,” John remarked, shaking his head.

“Leave them alone, Walker.” Ava lectured. “At least their clothes are still on.” Bob curled his lips inward, fighting back a snort.

“Anyways, who’s hungry?” Alexei boomed out of nowhere. “I’ll cook for team tonight.”

“Starving!” You and Bob both said in unison. His eyes were on you instantly and you avoided his gaze as your cheeks grew warm.

Yelena smiled, “Mario Kart that intense?” You and Bob nodded together. 

“I won…a lot!” Bob lied, yet still implying that he did win something that only you would have known.

“Well, at least we know that you guys can be left alone without the Tower burning down,” Bucky commented before walking away with the others. You finally met Bob’s eyes and he gave you a knowing grin before you grinned back.

Navigation | Fic Masterlist | Robert 'Bob’ Reynolds Masterlist

[loveforpb5]

two hours wasted

pairing - paige!bueckers x fem!reader

warnings - smut, fingering (r!recieving), pet names

summary - you wanted to give paige a nice meal for her big win, but it took a little bit of a turn.

"what're you makin princess?" paige's arms snaked around my waist from behind me. her fingers framing my stomach and slightly squeezing to get me to answer her. it had been a big win for paige's team today so i thought cooking something special for her would be nice after working her ass off in the court. she deserved it.

"pasta" i turned my head to the side just enough for our lips to graze against eachother. my hands were still occupied mixing up shrimps with some random seasonings. paige looked over my shoulder to get a better look at the food that was yet to be cooked. "hmm. why are you making pasta at..." paige paused to look across the kitchen at a digital clock "at 9 pm?" i let out a soft sigh mixed with a giggle as paige showed me a very confused expression. "well i was thinking that we could have just a little night to ourselves. maybe we could actually eat at the table and not on the couch?" paige scoffed playfully at my last comment. "and you did so good today."

i knew how paige could get when i praised her. whether it was for basketball or simple winning a video game. she was an absolute slut for praise. so i threw compliments everywhere i could. "thank you baby" her strong hands slowly spun me around from the counter to face her. i looked up at her tall figure, trying hard to not stare at her lips as she spoke. even though we had been together for seven months now, i still couldn't help but get flustered when we were met face to face in silence. her hands ghosted around my hips, toying around with the waist band of my shorts. "mhm. what'd you think about that" i stood up taller on my toes to reach her ear and whisper in it. "it's nice"

paige walked away and it took me exactly one hour to finish up the meal and prepare the table. 2 hours in total. paige had been sitting on the couch, scrolling on her phone or on call with a friend.

"yeah my girlfriend is so perfect. she's making us dinner so that we can eat at the table." i felt a wave of heat rush over me when i heard those words leave her mouth. i couldn't help but grin as i dished up a bowl of pasta for paige and one for me. "baby what do you want to drink?" i holler out for her. "water is fine!"

i set the full dishes on the table and laid out napkins and utensils. making sure everything was just picture perfect. but the second i walked up to paige sitting on the couch, legs spread apart, her hand running through her own hair roughly. dinner didn't matter. she stood up with excitement on her face. i found her hands wrapped around my waist again as she pulled me into a sloppier kiss than before. "mmm thank you" she said against my lips before pulling away and walking to the dining table. her hand stayed wrapped around the side of my waist, holding me close against her.

of course this dinner took forever and i made it so that we could have a night to ourselves. but god the way paige was sitting on the couch and her natural waves were out sprawled over her shoulders. ever since she had gotten home i could feel myself growing more wet with every word she said. paige was just about to sit down and i couldn't take it any longer. "p-paige?" i croaked out.

"mhm?"

usually calling myself out wasn't my type of thing due to embarrassment. but god she looked too good tonight.

"i need you..." my voice slowly began to drop as i finished my statement. i had my hands resting on my own stomach, trying to imagine that my own touch was paige's. and before i knew it, my hips were covered by paige's hands. "mm yeah?" paige pressed her lips against the skin in my neck, right next to my ear, slowly moving down my neck. her hands rested in the small of my back as she leaned me backwards. just enough to make space for her lips to leave sloppy kisses around my collarbones.

she took her time moving her lips in all the right places. occasional nipping at soft spots that sent whines up my throat and out of my mouth. "paige please" her lips were making their way down to my stomach. she stayed silent except for the soft smacks her lips made as she reached closer to my core. "what'd you want from me? speak up" she teased right as she could've devoured me. "touch me paige please" i whined out. she brought her lips back up to my own, sliding her tongue between her lips and through mine. "mmm good girl" she slowly sipped two of her fingers under the waistband of my shorts, practically ripping them off as i snaked them to my ankles.

she used a single pad of her finger to trace over my clothed cunt. "fuck. so wet all for me?" now i couldn't even form words. paige's voice mixed with the gentle teasing against my clit almost made cum on the spot. without breaking our kiss, she slid my panties down my thighs and took no time to plunge two of her fingers in my dripping hole. i could feel my legs becoming more weak the second she sped up.

her pace was quick without warning, my thighs squeezing around her wrist to almost ground myself in the moment. my hand held onto the arm of the couch once she started pumping her fingers faster and faster. my moans got breathier as i felt the knot in my stomach tying tighter. her fingers curled harshly, making my walls clench around them and my head tilt back.

"i- fuck paige fuck-" i breathed out, one hand reaching for the back of her neck and running through her baby hairs.

"whats up? you gonna cum for me hm?" the words rolled off her tongue and back to my neck like poison. my head getting dizzy quickly as she pumped her fingers as deep as possible, curling it the spot ive been craving all fucking night. i came immediately. juices flowing down her fingers and onto to the blanket on the couch beneath me.

her name spilled from my mouth repeatedly, my hands holding onto the couch and her neck at the same time. her fingers slowed down eventually, pulling away and looking at them. admiration in her eyes as she eyed down the slick covering her fingers.

"look at the mess you made pretty girl. all for me" she smiled, placing her two fingers in her mouth and sucked gently. she pulled them out with a pop and then kissed me immediately, a softer kiss than before. i was able to taste myself from her tongue. she placed a couple gentle kisses on my cheeks and jaw before pulling her body away from mine and standing up.

"wanna take a bath baby?" i asked softly hoping she'd say yes just so we didnt go to bed earlier. but the look in her eyes was clear that she didnt want to take a bath.

"yeah sure princess, lets just go to the room"

she took my hands in hers and led the both of us to the room.

a/n - erm hey....first little paige fic....what do we think....

[xxchumanixx]

First Date 1/11

Bucky Barnes x fem!reader

Warnings/Tags: Reader has a certain eye color (just because of a reference), but feel free to change that whilst reading, improper thoughts mentioned, fluff, Bucky being sweet and a bit overwhelmed.

Word Count: tba as always

Authors Note: Hello, my loves! I wanted to make this a one part thing, but I don't want to keep you waiting even longer, so here's the first part of this. I hope you'll enjoy it! Also, for the sake of this, Bucky has a car and can legally drive it.

Also this is not proofread yet. I'm sorry for any mistakes.

Love yall!

It took all his willpower not to cancel the date and leave you hanging.

He still wondered how on earth you had agreed to go on a date with him.

You knew each other for a while now, being introduced by Sam. Part of his past self - the one from the forties - had flared up when he saw you.

You had captivated him the moment he'd laid eyes on you. Beautiful seemed too dull of a word to describe you.

And after months of flirting and pining, he'd finally made a move and asked you out.

Of course, Sam had to give him the last bit of courage, saying there was no way in hell you'd not agree.

Which brought him back to his initial thought: Why on earth did you agree to go out with him? You were smart, courageous, kind, soft, and caring. Not to mention your beauty.

And him?

He was just a poor excuse of the man he once used to be. PTSD and nightmares included.

Standing at your door, he wondered if it was ridiculous to bring you flowers. Was that still a thing? It was just a casual date - no fancy restaurant, no suits and dresses. Something casual, something easy.

Something he could handle.

He was nervous, thoughts running haywire as his nerves stood on end. How would you react to the flowers? Would you like them?

He once heard you mention lilies as your favorite, so he brought a bouquet of them. Was it too much? Was he going overboard with this?

But it was too late to turn around now. He wanted to go on this date. And maybe it was a bit selfish, but he needed it. He liked you - more than that - and he wanted this to work.

And you had already agreed.

With a smile so bright, it could have rivaled the sun.

So it hadn't been out of pity, right? God, he was overthinking again.

Just knock, Barnes!

So he straightened his shoulders, swallowing the lump in his throat, and knocked.

When it knocked, you had to take a deep breath to calm yourself.

You couldn't believe he'd asked you out. You'd never have had the courage to do so, no matter how much you wanted to.

You walked to the door, hoping you looked good enough before you opened it.

Oh lord have mercy was his first thought. You looked beautiful - as always. So beautiful he almost lost his ability to talk for a second.

He mentally slapped himself, hoping he didn't look as flustered as he felt.

Say something, idiot!

"Hey."

Smooth, Barnes. Very smooth.

Bucky mentally facepalmed. This was how he always got when he was nervous, and he knew it. He hated it. "Those are for you." He extended the bouquet with a hint of a smile, hoping it wasn't as awkward as he felt.

Your eyes widened, lips parting slightly as you took the bouquet from his hands, fingers brushing his, sending a shiver up your spine. "Wow." you breathed out, smiling. "Those are beautiful, thank you, Bucky."

His nerves settled a little when he saw your eyes widen and your smile. But his stomach still did somersaults, his heart raced in his chest.

He was glad you liked the flowers, he'd spent too long standing in the store for them.

He let out a little "You're welcome." as he shoved his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket, not sure what to do with his shaking, trembling limbs. "Ready to go?"

You nodded, fidgeting for a moment.

Get a grip!

"I'll just put them into water. Come in."

Bucky's eyes followed every move you made. The fidgeting, the nervousness - God, were you nervous too? He was tempted to ask, but he was scared that he'd embarrass you with that.

He entered your home, taking the time to take in his surroundings. It was... homey - a lot more lived-in than his own. "You have a nice place."

You smiled softly, walking into the kitchen to take a vase and fill it with water. "Thank you." you said. "It's not much, but it's home."

The little smile tugged on Bucky's heart strings. He followed you into the kitchen, watching you put the flowers in a vase. It was cute, and the sight warmed his heart.

Everywhere he looked was some part of you. The cookbook on the counter, partly covered by a towel, haphazardly thrown onto it. The little toy dinosaur on the windowsill. Blue, with green dots - it reminded him of your eyes.

He remembered you talking about a niece. It was probably hers then.

Whilst Bucky took in his surroundings, you admired the flowers for a moment longer. Had it been a lucky guess? Or did he remember your favorites? Smiling, you straightened a bit. "Okay, I'm ready to go."

"Good."

Smooth, Barnes, again.

Bucky mentally rolled his eyes, cursing his awkwardness. God, he wished he was as smooth as his past self had been.

He felt his shoulders tense a little again, but managed to keep the nerves from showing. He gestured to the door, silently asking you to go first.

You walked ahead, grabbing your small bag and a jacket, slipping into your shoes by the door. Your nerves were skyrocketing, stomach fluttering.

How on earth did you get this devastatingly handsome man to ask you out?

Bucky was glad you went first so he could take some time to calm down. Following you out the door, he took notice of how you walked, the way your hips swung from side to side.

He was only a man, after all.

He was tempted to reach out for your hand but didn't dare to. What if you thought it was too much? What if you thought he was too forward?

So he kept his hands to himself, stuffing them back into the pocket of his jacket.

The both of you walked to his car, Bucky opening the door for you like a perfect gentleman. He was still nervous, and the nerves were gnawing at his stomach, but it wasn't that bad now.

Just act natural.

Bucky got into the driver's seat, fumbling with the keys in his nervousness before finally starting the car.

He still wasn't sure what to say, the silence in the car weighing down on him. "You look beautiful, by the way." he blurted, glancing over at you as he reversed the car.

Great, now you probably thought he was an idiot.

You smiled softly, cheeks heating up a little. "Thank you." you said. "I wasn't sure what to wear. I've never been on a casual date before. Always these fancy restaurants and stuff. I'm glad it's not like that."

"Me too." he admitted. Taking dates to fancy restaurants had been the norm in the forties. But to Bucky, that felt so formal and stiff. He wanted this to be casual, to be comfortable. And he was glad you seemed to feel the same.

His lips tugged upwards in a smile, his eyes on the road, but the tension visible in his shoulders decreased noticeably.

Sam had warned him not to make it overly fancy. He knew you like the back of his hand, and he'd heard enough of you complaining about how stiff everything felt sitting at a fancy restaurant, surrounded by people that were so unlike you.

It felt wrong - you felt wrong.

Out of place.

This, on the other hand, felt nice.

It felt right.

You looked out of the window for a moment, not knowing what to say. You were nervous, trying not to act weird by doing god knows what.

The nerves were gnawing at Bucky too, the silence in the car deafening. Should he say something? But what? God, he was pathetic. Back in the forties, he never had any issues talking to women. Sure, his past self was a total flirt, but at least he would have said something and not just sat there with the silence in the car suffocating him.

He swallowed hard, cursing his own awkwardness as he drove.

"Did you see Sam lately?" you asked the first thing that came to your mind. Great. Just bring another man into this conversation. But it was something easy, something to break the ice.

Right?

Bucky's shoulders relaxed a little. He was glad you broke the silence, but his breath hitched when you mentioned Sam. Bucky would have never in his wildest dreams thought he'd ever be jealous of Sam, but here he was.

What if Sam had said something?

No. Not possible.

Bucky knew Sam would never do that. If you were on this date, it was because you wanted to, and not because you felt obligated to. Relax. You're overthinking this again. "Yeah, he was by last week." Bucky eventually said.

You nodded faintly, glad that the conversation seemed still easy. "That's good." you gave back. "He said he'd bring his sister's cookies next week."

The mention of cookies made his stomach growl, and Bucky had to bite back a laugh. "That'd be great, I missed her cookies last time." he replied.

If there was one thing he missed about the forties, it'd be good food. These days, everything tasted different. But Sam's sister, Sarah, made the best cookies he's ever had the pleasure to taste.

You hummed with a small grin. "Yeah, only because Sam ate half of them before he even landed." you told him. "I told him to bring you some, but he only had a handful left and insisted on giving them to me. I wanted to share, but before he went home there was only one left. Wonder how."

A laugh escaped Bucky, picturing the situation in his head. He could hear Sam denying eating half the cookies with a mouth full of said cookies. "Yeah, that sounds like him." he said. "I wouldn't have shared, honestly." Bucky added teasingly, a grin tugging at his lips.

You shook your head, still with that small grin on your lips. "I mean I wanted to share them with you." you explained. "Because he had none for you left even though Sarah instructed him to bring you some, too."

Bucky's heart fluttered, the grin on his face widening without his consent. He felt a strange sense of satisfaction at the fact that you had wanted to share the cookies with him. Not with Sam, not with anyone else.

Him.

And that made him happy. Happier than it should, probably. "Thanks," he said. "Although I don't blame him. Sarah's cookies are irresistible."

"Yeah." you agreed, mouth watering at the thought of the sugary sweetness of them. "I'm gonna make sure you're gonna get some next week, though."

"I will hold you to that." Bucky replied, giving you a smile. He felt the tension leave his shoulders more and more. Talking to you became easier every second. The silence in the car wasn't as heavy anymore, not as suffocating. But it did make him more aware of his heartbeat, of the way his palms got sweaty.

Just... have some trust in yourself. Ugh, yeah, right. Who am I? Dr. Raynor?

You smiled softly. You'd definitely make sure there were cookies left for him that Sam wouldn't eat up. Even if it'd be the last thing you'd do.

Bucky felt so giddy, and it was a strange but welcome feeling. He didn't remember the last time he had felt this way. He hadn't thought he was even able to feel like this anymore. The feeling left a warm, fuzzy trail through his entire body, making his toes curl.

God, he could not stop grinning like a lovesick fool.

"We're here." he said after a few more minutes spent in silence, parking the car. He got out, walking over to your door and opening it for you, holding out a hand to help you out.

Your smile widened as you shook your head slightly, taking his hand to get out of the car. "A true gentleman." you said, teasing.

He would have shrugged your comment off, but the smile you gave him left him speechless. Bucky swallowed hard, trying to keep his nerves in check.

The feelings and sensations that flooded him whenever you touched him, even if it was just the simple touch of your hand in his, were overwhelming him in the best possible way.

He closed the car door once you got out, still holding onto your hand.

"Shall we?" he asked, gesturing to the small, cozy looking café before you. Bucky's heart was racing when you didn't let go of his hand, even after he gestured towards the café.

"Yeah, let's go." you gave back, still smiling, though the feeling of his hand holding yours was doing things to you. It sent shivers up your spine, his warmth spreading through you.

The café looked cozy, nothing overwhelming. Just right.

The nerves Bucky thought he had managed to calm down were back in full force. He was certain you could feel his pulse through his fingertips. But he still didn't let go. If you didn't want to let go of his hand, he sure as hell wasn't going to be the one to do it first.

Bucky's heart did another somersault. He never expected you to be so... soft. There were no other words for it. You looked like a literal angel. Everything about you, from your looks to the way you smiled... it was intoxicating.

He hadn't realized he was still staring until you turned your head to give him another one of your smiles, only this time it was wider and more radiant than before. He averted his eyes quickly, feeling his face heat up as he cleared his throat.

Bucky couldn't remember the last time something had affected him the way you did.

He felt your hand in his, it was soft.

So soft.

His mind drifted off for a second, wondering what other parts of you were soft. He scolded himself internally.

Jesus, Barnes. Get a grip.

He shook his head, opening the door of the café for you. The scent of fresh coffee wafted through the air, the cozy chatter of the other guests the background noise as Bucky guided you to a table.

You looked around, taking in the different sensations. It was perfect. Cozy but lively, freshly baked goods wherever you looked. Coffee in different varieties, but not too much. Not too modern. Too overwhelming. It was just the right amount.

It screamed Bucky.

Old-fashioned, neat, simple.

Warm.

Bucky pulled out a chair for you as the two of you reached an empty table, giving you a smile before taking the seat across from you.

He watched you look around, taking in the café. "You like it?" he asked, a hint of uncertainty coloring his voice. He was nervous, worried you might find the café dull. He knew it was silly, but there was always this tiny voice in the back of his head, telling him his ideas were dumb.

Damn self-deprecation.

You looked back at him with a soft smile. "It's perfect." you told him. "Nothing too fancy or over the top. I like it."

And you did, really. It was a far cry from the places previous dates had taken you, which had been a far cry from you.

This was perfect.

Your words made Bucky relax the tiniest bit. The tension fell off his shoulders, the little voice in his head grew quieter. He knew you meant the words, didn't just say them to be polite. And that thought meant everything to him.

A smile tugged on his lips. "Good." he said. "I'm glad you like it." Bucky was surprised at the relief he felt that you approved of his choice. The tension in him kept fading, bit by bit. He couldn't get that stupid grin off his face.

The café was a bit hidden, something you more stumble upon than seek out actively. "How did you find this place?" you asked, curious as you folded your arms on the table.

It was this typical place you'd see in the movies and shows.

Bucky cleared his throat, his fingers idly fidgeting at the table, tracing the pattern on the wood. "Ah, I kinda just stumbled upon it on one of my runs." He answered, a sheepish, awkward smile on his lips. He didn't tell you he had spent days finding the right place.

He was glad he had found this one, it was perfect. It wasn't too crowded, and it wasn't too small. Just right. Just the place he had imagined for your first date.

You hummed in acknowledgment, still smiling softly. "I like it." you told him once more as a waitress approached.

Bucky felt warm all over, the smile you gave him and the way you said you liked the café making him feel like he was on cloud nine.

He was glad you did, he had spent days going to cafés and restaurants trying to pick the right one. And when he had found this one, he had just known it was perfect.

The waitress came to the table, and Bucky ordered himself a black coffee. He glanced at you when you ordered a hot chocolate. Of course, you liked sweet things he thought, a tiny smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

"Any goods I can bring you?" The waitress asked with a smile. She seemed to fit right into this place. You tilted your head slightly. "Do you have apple pie?"

Bucky couldn't take his eyes off you as you ordered the apple pie. The way your eyes sparkled when you did, how you tilted your head. He felt his stomach fill with that warm, fuzzy feeling again, and the butterflies in his stomach did somersaults.

There was no denying it anymore.

He was head over heels for you.

God, he hoped you'd want a second date after today. He didn't know what he'd do if you'd turn him down. The thought of never seeing you again, of never getting to hold your hand again... it terrified him somehow.

The waitress looked at Bucky expectantly. He'd completely missed when she asked him if he wanted a piece of pie, too.

You had to bite your cheek not to chuckle.

Bucky's eyes snapped up to the waitress, his ears heating up in embarrassment as he met her eyes. "Ah, yeah. Sorry." he said. "I'll have some too, thank you." He gave her a shy smile, hoping she wouldn't mind his inattention.

He was simply too distracted by you to pay attention to anything else.

She jotted it down on her notepad before she headed back to the kitchen.

You pressed your lips together in an attempt to fight the goofy grin. He'd been too focused on you to listen to the waitress, and it gave you that fuzzy feeling you read about in books. It made your heart flutter, the butterflies going crazy.

Bucky's ears were burning when he looked at you, seeing the grin on your face and how it made the corners of your eyes crinkle. That grin had him melting, and he had to fight the urge to kiss you.

God, the date had only started and he was this far gone.

The warmth and fuzzy feeling spread in his stomach again, the butterflies in his belly going crazy. This was it. This was the feeling that poets wrote about. That singers sang about. He had finally been hit by cupid's arrow.

Get your shit together!

"So..." you broke the silence, grin softening into a smile. "She said their apple pie's the best in town."

Bucky had been so lost in thought and in his own feelings that he hadn't even noticed he'd been staring at you. He felt his face heat up, his body tensing with nerves again.

Get a grip, Barnes, he mentally scolded himself.

"Ah, yeah." he replied, clearing his throat. "I hope it's as good as she proclaimed." He tried to sound casual, but Bucky was certain he was failing.

Miserably.

"I'm sure." you said, humming. "This place seems like the one you read in books about. Hidden, but famous for their apple pie."

Bucky smiled, a soft look in his eyes. He loved how observant you were. The way you took in and processed the things around you, your attention to detail. He was certain there was nothing you'd miss, no small thing you didn't notice.

It was one of the things he loved most about you.

"Yeah, kinda does." he agreed, a soft smile still on his lips. Bucky was more and more amazed at how in sync you were with one another. Everything was just... right.

"I like it." you said again, this time quieter as your finger followed the pattern of the wood on the table.

The quiet tone in your voice was soothing, and the way you traced the pattern on the wood captivated Bucky for a moment.

He stared at you intently as your finger followed the pattern of the wood, a soft smile on his lips. "Yeah," he replied, his voice just as soft. "I like it too."

He was so, so happy.

The date wasn't even halfway through but he was more than happy with it so far. Everything was just... perfect. And he hoped it would stay that way.

A silence fell over the both of you, not awkward nor tense. It was comfortable. Homey.

Bucky just stared at you, taking in your features. The curve of your nose, the way your lips turned up, forming a small, soft smile. The way your eyes lit up when you smiled, the way you tilted your head ever so slightly when you were intrigued.

He never wanted to stop staring at you.

The small dimples on your cheeks when you smiled, the slight curve of your jaw, your long lashes - he was addicted to every single thing about you.

A few moments later, the waitress returned with your orders.

A smile tugged at Bucky's lips as he watched the waitress put the apple pie on the table. It smelled delicious and looked even better than it smelled.

God, he couldn't wait to take a bite.

He glanced over at you as the waitress left the table and was met with that gorgeous smile once more. He could look at you all day, he was certain of that.

The way your eyes lit up, your smile, your dimples, he was in love. He was certain of it.

Wow, Barnes. Slow down. Bucky mentally scolded himself, clearing his throat to distract himself.

Meanwhile, you hummed in content, pulling your piece of pie closer. It smelled heavenly.

Bucky took a bite of the apple pie, and good lord he was in heaven. It was the best apple pie he had ever had, just as the waitress had said - no, it was even better.

The smell, the taste, the texture... he took another bite, feeling the warm, gooey filling and the apples in the crust dance across his tongue.

The flavors made him groan quietly, and when he glanced over to you, he saw the satisfied expression on your face, your eyes closed, humming quietly as you took a bite of your own piece of pie.

You couldn't help the way you swayed your upper half in delight. "Wow." you said once you'd swallowed, staring at the pie. "I need this recipe." It was perfect. Literally.

Bucky's smile widened, the way you savored the pie and the expression on your face made his heart flutter like a teenager having their first crush. It was cute, the way you swayed yourself in delight, it was endearing.

"I have a feeling they won't give it to you." he teased, taking another bite of his own piece.

You sighed dramatically, pouting. "Yeah, I think so, too."

Bucky laughed at your dramatics, finding it endearing. It was fun, teasing one another like this. It was a far cry from the nervous, awkward Bucky from the start of the date.

You were loosening him up in a way he hadn't experienced before, and not once did he think you were pitying or mocking him. Your teasing was playful and genuine, and it made him feel... normal.

He liked it.

You smiled softly, eating some more pie. "I'll just have to come back for more."

Please do, Bucky thought.

The thought was so loud, it bounced off the walls in Bucky's mind. He wanted you to come back, to come to this cafe with him, to eat apple pie and sip coffee.

But the cafe wasn't the only thing he wanted to come back for.

His thoughts drifted off to a second date. And a third, and a fourth, and a fifth... He was in way too deep. He was in trouble, but he didn't really care. "I think that's a good plan," he replied, taking another bite of his own piece.

Taking a sip from your hot chocolate, you hummed. "It is."

The sight of you taking a sip from your hot chocolate left his throat dry. He took a sip from his black coffee to stop himself from gawking at you when your lips wrapped around your cup, your tongue darting out to lick away the bit of whipped cream that had gotten on your upper lip.

He swallowed hard, averting his gaze.

Get. A. Grip. Barnes. He mentally scolded himself for the thousandth time. But how could he, when you sat there, looking nothing short of an angel?

The more he took you in, the more he found himself falling for you. He was in love - the butterflies, the way his heart fluttered, the way his heart raced in his chest, the way he couldn't focus on anything but you.

This was what those old love ballads were about, the ones about cupids arrows and being struck by them.

Love at first sight? He thought it was nonsense. But now he knew it was real. He was falling, head over heels for you. Bucky Barnes, a hundred and six year old man, was a fool in love.

When you sat the cup back down, you didn't notice the bit of whipped cream on the tip of your nose.

But Bucky did.

He couldn't resist the urge, and he reached out with his thumb, gently brushing the bit of whipped cream from your nose. You were so, so precious, and Bucky couldn't get enough of you.

"You had whipped cream on your nose." he said with a soft chuckle, showing you the bit of cream on his thumb.

You blinked a few times, a hot feeling crawling up your spine at the sudden, though short proximity. "Thanks." you breathed out, clearing your throat quietly before you sent him a small smile.

A smile of his own tugged on the corners of Bucky's lips as you blinked at him, a soft blush spreading on your face. The way you blushed was endearing, it made him feel all fuzzy inside.

Every time you looked up at him and smiled, his heart fluttered, and his stomach did somersaults. Your smile could light up a whole room, he was certain of it.

Before he could have stopped himself, his lips wrapped around the tip of his thumb, licking the whipped cream away.

You heart stuttered as your gaze fixed on his thumb between his lips. Was he doing this intentionally? Did he even know what he did?

Swallowing, you quickly averted your gaze to focus on the remnants of your pie instead.

But Bucky couldn't miss the way you blushed harder when he licked the whipped cream from his thumb. Your reaction did something to him, made his blood race through his veins in a rush, his heart rate picking up.

God, you looked so cute, the way you blushed and looked away.

He felt his own face heat up, the blush spreading to the very tip of his ears. His stomach was tying itself into knots. Smooth, Barnes. Very smooth.

"So, um..." he said, trying to get his mind off of the way you had blushed and looked away, trying to get rid of the nervous flutter in his stomach. "I kinda have a second part to this date." he admitted, his voice sounding less steady than he had hoped it would.

No matter how nervous and anxious he was, he wanted to show you this as well. He was praying you would love the little place he had found for the second part of the date.

You tilted your head slightly, curious. "Really? What is it?"

Bucky smiled, his heart beating out of his chest with nervous anticipation.

Would you like his idea? Or would you think it was cheesy? Would you think it was a bit too much?

He mentally slapped himself for getting so worked up. It was just a small thing, but the idea of you not liking it was too much to handle. "It's a surprise," he finally said, the grin on his face widening as he saw the intrigued look on yours.

You pushed your lip out before biting it. "A surprise? Well, I'm intrigued."

Bucky had to fight the urge to lean over the table and kiss you. The way you pouted and then bit your lip, it made his knees weak.

He was so, so gone.

You could have asked him to run through hell with his butt naked, and he would have if you had batted your eyelashes at him in just the right way.

"Do you trust me?" he asked, tilting his head as he studied your face.

You narrowed your eyes playfully. "What did you plan?" you asked, laughing quietly. "Well, yes, obviously I do trust you. Otherwise, I wouldn't be here."

The laugh you let out made his heart flutter again. His chest warmed at the sound. He could listen to you laugh for days and never get tired.

The sight of you laughing, with the corners of your eyes crinkling as your smile widened. The slight, almost unnoticeable dimples you had, your eyes lighting up when you laughed, the way you bit your bottom lip...

Bucky swallowed hard, pushing away the thoughts that came flooding back into his mind. Get your mind out of the gutter, Barnes. "You'll see when we get there." he said, smiling.

You hummed, smiling yourself. "I'll patiently wait then."

When you hummed, it sent all his blood south, straight to the lower parts of his body. God, the things you did to him. It was as if you knew you drove him crazy, made his blood race through his veins in a rush.

His heart did somersaults in his chest as his face heated up again, the blush he had managed to will away earlier returning with full force.

He took another sip of his coffee to get rid of the dryness in his throat. Get. A. Grip, Barnes. His inner voice scolded again.

Tag List

@ava @sapphirebarnes @skywalker0809

@freyathehuntress @queenslandlover-93 @judig92

@caplanbuckybarnes @frog-fans-unite @nocuzreally

[fantasticfourthwingimagines]

Chokehold Pairing - Dain Aetos x RiorsonSister!Reader Summary - You can't ignore it anymore. The tension between you and Dain Aetos is past breaking point. When you find out he feels the same . . . Will it all come crashing down? Word Count - 3.3k Warnings/Author's Notes - Language, but that's it! If you want something to listen to while reading this, I HIGHLY suggest Chokehold by Sleep Token.

You weren’t seeking him out. 

At least that’s what you told yourself. 

You were taking a walk after leaving Quinn and Imogen, a bottle of strong liquor swinging from your hand. It just so happened that you decided to walk in the direction that you had seen Dain sitting by earlier. It didn’t mean that you wanted to see him. Nevertheless there he was, and it would be rude not to acknowledge him. (Even though being rude had never bothered you before.)

He was startled as you plopped down on the ground  across from him, rather ungracefully, and leaned your back against the wall, holding the bottle out in his direction. “Want a sip? It’s good.” You asked, already knowing the answer. 

As expected, Dain didn’t reach for the bottle. “You know we’re not supposed to-”

You groaned, poking him with the bottle. “Come on, Aetos. You’re a rider in the middle of a war. You gotta live a little. You know if you weren’t such a stick in the mud-”

Your eyes widened in disbelief as the bottle was snatched out of your hand, and Dain Aetos took a big sip. Your shock was replaced with amusement as he started coughing almost immediately. “Gods, that’s strong.” 

“Of course it is. It’s from my father’s super secret stash I’m not supposed to know about.” You said with a wink, taking the bottle back from him for another sip. “You want another?” You asked, holding the bottle out again. 

Dain’s gaze met yours, and for a moment neither of you looked away. The air between you felt thick, humming with something dangerous. He seemed to feel it too, because he started reaching for the bottle again. 

As you learned forward to hand it to him, your fingers brushed his, and the contact sent a jolt up your arm. You caught the way his shoulders stiffened, the way his eyes flicked to your mouth before he looked away, taking a much larger drink than previously. 

“Okay, now I know something’s wrong with you. Spill it.” You said, leaning towards him in the small space. “Stewing in your feelings about Violet again?” You asked, sharper than you meant to. 

“You know, I’m sick of people assuming I want anything more than my friendship with her back.” Dain said, irritated, “I see the way she and your brother look at each other. I’m not an idiot. They’re clearly in love.” 

You bit your lip at his response, and it could have been the alcohol, but you could have sworn that his eyes tracked the movement for a brief moment. “What if they weren’t?” 

His answer took longer than you wanted, but it did eventually come. “It wouldn’t have worked.” He admitted, shaking his head. “We’re not the same people anymore.” 

Oh that answer shouldn’t have pleased you as much as it did. It was almost like a huge weight had been lifted off your chest, and you could now take a full breath. 

“What about you and Ridoc?” 

You were sure you hadn’t heard him right at first, but then you realized he must be joking and let out a loud snort of laughter at the thought. Gods the thought of you and Ridoc was hilarious. However, you caught sight of his very serious face and realized he was in fact not joking. “Me and Ridoc? That’d never happen.” You said, shaking your head. 

“Really?” Dain asked, raising a skeptical eyebrow. 

“Oh yeah. I love him, but I think I’d end up killing him if we dated.” You said, taking another swig from the bottle, savoring the burn then handing it back to Dain. “He’s not my type anyway.” 

Now he had a slight smirk on his face as he looked at you, and the warm things it did to your stomach made your nerves rise. “You have a type?” He asked. 

You nodded, looking down at your fingers for a moment. “It’s not a long list of qualifications. Dark hair, brown eyes, loyal, not afraid to call me out on my bullshit, and perhaps someone who’s willing to do the hard thing when it’s the right thing.” You said, the alcohol making you even bolder than normal as you met his gaze. “Like abandoning everything he knows, including his family, to fight in a war he didn’t have to.” You met his gaze for a heartbeat - and then the weight of what you said hit you all at once, sending your gaze dropping to your lap. Your heart thudded against your ribs, loud enough you were sure he could hear it. 

A large hand rested on your knee, and you startled at the unexpected touch. Dain jerked back like he’d been burned, jaw tightening, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-” 

You caught his hand before it could disappear altogether, curling your fingers around his. “You just scared me.” You said quietly. You traced your thumb over his knuckles, feeling the slight tremble under your touch. Then, meeting his wide, stunned eyes, you added, voice low, “Your touch isn’t poison, Dain.” 

Your words had an impact. You could see it in his face. Ever since it was discovered what part he played in Liam’s death, everyone had been scared of his signet, avoiding his touch. But you had no memories to hide. His thumb stroked back and forth across your hand, and heat bloomed beneath his hand, and you had to fight the instinct to lean into him, to close the inches between you. “I don’t know if I have a type, but I know what I want, and it’s not Violet.” He said, his eyes locked on you in such an intense way it almost made you dizzy. 

His thumb brushed back and forth, back and forth. 

You weren’t sure if it was your heart pounding or his that you could hear. 

Emboldened by his words and gaze, you found yourself moving closer once again, so close that your hip brushed his thigh. “Can I tell you a secret?” You asked, your voice barely above a whisper, the words trembling at the edges. 

He leaned in, his leg brushing yours, gaze pinned to your lips. 

“Sometimes I want to kiss you,” you breathed, each word slipping free before you could think better of it. “Even though I probably shouldn’t.” 

Dain leaned back an inch, muscles taut like he was forcing himself away. “You’re just . . . drunk.” He said, but the words sounded brittle even to your ears. Like he didn’t believe them. 

“I wish it was that easy.” You said, “then I could move on with my life and get you out of my head, but . . . You’re stuck there. Embarrassing right?” You admitted, looking down at the ground once again. 

His fingers brushed beneath your chin, feather-light at first, like he was giving himself time to pull away. But then he tilted your face up anyway, and the look in his eyes undid you completely. “What’s embarrassing is how quickly I fold to give you anything you ask for because I like how it makes you smile.” 

You were sure your heart stopped beating at his confession. “Dain . . .” You whispered, the name almost foreign on your lips. You’d always called him Aetos, but saying that at this moment felt wrong. 

His eyes flared like you’d struck him, like your voice wrapped around something inside him he hadn’t meant to expose. He dropped his hand from your chin like your skin had burned him. “Don’t say my name for the first time like that. I’m trying to be noble here.” 

“I don’t want you to be noble.” You said, voice low and sure

For a heartbeat, neither of you moved. 

And then you crossed the space between you, sliding into his lap as naturally as breathing, your arms winding around his neck. Now that you knew he wanted you too, the thought of not having him was devastating. 

“You’re a first year. I’m your wingleader. We shouldn’t be doing this.” He rasped - but his hands found your hips anyway, anchoring you to him, pulling you closer instead of pushing you away. 

A smile ghosted across your lips, small and helpless as your noses brushed. “Of all the excuses you could have come up with,” you whispered, “that was the best you had?” 

“I’m having trouble concentrating at the moment.” Dain admitted, his thumbs caressing your side and his gaze traveling all over your face as if trying to memorize it. 

“Good. Then my plan is working.” You teased. 

Oh that smile. That was a smile you could look at forever. You’d so rarely seen it on his lips that the sight of it immediately became precious to you. 

“One kiss.” You breathed, your voice trembling against his mouth. “Maybe that’ll be enough.”

“What if it isn’t?” Dain said after a moment. 

It would never be enough. Not with him. Not now. 

“Then we’ll worry about it later.” You said, trying to sound carefree even though you knew he could feel your heart pounding against his chest with how close the two of you were now. “Let’s forget everything else. Do what both of us want.” 

His forehead pressed to yours, and for a moment, you breathed each other in.

“Kiss me,” you whispered. 

His lips brushed yours, a caress, and you sighed his name against his mouth. 

That was all it took. 

You weren’t a stranger to kissing, but nothing, nothing had ever unraveled you like this. 

His hand slid up your back, dragging you closer, anchoring you to him as if he could fuse you together. 

Your fingers tangled in his hair, desperate, tugging enough to hear the rumble of a groan against your lips. 

He kissed you like he was drowning, and you were the only air left in the world. 

And gods, you kissed him back just as fiercely. 

His lips were needy, passionate, and you knew this wasn’t the Dain Aetos who followed rules and built walls around himself like armor. This was the real Dain - fierce, wild, yours.

Your kissing grew frantic, messy, your teeth clashing, your hands pulling, both of you desperate to take and give and memorize. It was as if each of you could sense the timer ticking down on this moment, knowing it wouldn’t be long before you’d have to stop and wanting to get as much of each other as you could. His hands traveled lower, and they landed on your thighs. You couldn’t help but let out a whimper as his thumbs brushed the inside of your leathers, feeling like he had somehow managed to touch your skin through the fabric. You felt the heat rising in your lower belly and the only coherent thoughts going through your mind were closer and more. Desperate for even the slightest friction, you rolled your hips against him. 

The groan that left his lips was sinful, full of lust and wanting, and if that wasn’t enough to show you how badly he wanted you, the hardness you felt sure was. His lips left yours, leaving you panting. They didn’t travel far though, your head tilting back as they kissed along your jaw. “Gods you’re going to be the death of me.” His words were half prayer, half a curse, torn from somewhere deep and helpless. “I’ve never wanted anything this bad.” Dain admitted, his lips now leaving a warm trail down your neck. 

“Then take me,” you said breathlessly. “I’m yours.” 

His hands clenched on your thighs, as if he was trying to regain the composure you knew he had already lost. “You said one kiss.” he rasped. “Don’t offer yourself unless you mean it.” He whispered, and you gasped as his teeth nicked at your skin. 

“I do mean it.” You reassured him, and with a great amount of effort, you pulled yourself away from his lips so you could cup his cheeks and make him look at you. “Dain, you can have as much of me as you want, and I assure you that I want you more.” 

You could feel his chest heaving against yours as you both fought to catch your breath during the intimate moment. “That’s not possible.” He said, and your skin warmed even more as his hands slid up your thighs and his fingers grazed the skin under your shirt. 

“Oh it is.” You said, and couldn’t wait another second to lean forward and slam your mouth against his again, throwing every bit of passion you felt for him in it. Your hands fisted in his hair. His hand gripped your hips, desperate, anchoring you to him as if he could hold the moment in place - 

When the crash of shattering glass split the world apart. 

The two of you separated to look in the direction the sound came from to find a light shattered and someone staring at you both in shock. You knew her silhouette even before she stumbled back. 

And with her, the reality of what you had done came crashing down over you, cold and merciless.

You staggered as if slapped, the weight of what almost happened hitting you like a blow to the ribs. You had been seconds away from fucking the man your best friend blamed for her brother’s death. “Sloane,” you breathed. 

She shook her head, backing away and unable to say a word.

“Let me explain,” you pleaded, climbing off of Dain and heading towards her. 

“Get the fuck away from me.” She snapped, and turned her back to you, taking off in the other direction. 

“Wait!” You didn’t even glance back at Dain. You couldn’t worry about him right now. Right now you had to fix, whatever this was. You caught up to her, grabbing her wrist. 

“Don’t -” Her voice cracked, and she swallowed it down, replacing it with pure venom. “Don’t you fucking touch me.” She said, yanking her arm from your grip. “Not when you just had your hands on him.” She hissed the last word like it was a curse to even speak it. 

“I wasn’t thinking. About you. About anything. There’s something about him - I can’t get him out of my head-” You tried to reason with her. 

But she was shaking her head before you even finished. “You have no excuse. He killed Liam! And you -” her voice broke, “you chose him.” 

“He didn’t!” You tried to defend him. “He - he trusted his dad. He didn’t know-”

“Liam looked at you like his sister too!” She argued, ignoring your words. “And he’d be so disappointed in you for this.” 

Any piece of your heart that was unbroken collapsed at her words. You had looked at Liam as another brother too. Loved him almost, if not as much, as you loved Xaden. The thought of him being disappointed in you destroyed you. 

“I don’t even know you anymore. And I don’t want to. We’re in the same squad and other than that I never want to see your face again.” She hissed. 

This time you let her go, a hand clutching your stomach as if trying to hold yourself together when it felt like you were falling apart. It was only moments before the ground shook around you signaling Bhaltair’s arrival. 

“I could feel your distress from miles away. Get a hold of yourself.” 

“I’m not in the mood to hear a list of my shortcomings right now.” You said, wiping a tear from your cheek. 

“Perhaps if you didn’t have so many-” 

That was it. Something about his words brought every emotion you had felt tonight to the surface, and you snapped, turning around to glare at your ferocious blue dragon who looked more than done with your shit. “I’m never going to be Xaden okay!” 

“What do you speak of human?” He growled, steam warming your face. 

 “I’m not impressive! I’m not as strong as him, I’m not as powerful of a weilder as him, and I’ll never be as good of a fighter! I know you picked me because you thought I’d be as good as him because Sgaeyl is your sister! So I’m sorry for the massive disappointment you’re stuck with for the rest of my life. I promise you don’t have to keep telling me. I know!” Unable to look at the disappointment on his face any longer, you turned and started walking away from him.  

“YOU DARE ASSUME THE REASONS FOR MY CHOICE?!” 

The force of his voice in your head sent you crumbling to the ground, the cold dirt grinding into your knees as you clutched your head, sobs ripping from your throat unchecked, and everything that you had built up and hidden for the past year exploded out. 

There was no concept of time in those moments, just stress, pain, and heartbreak leaving your body in tears as you wrapped your arms around yourself until there was nothing left, but the stains on your cheeks and the ache in your head. 

That was when you opened your eyes to notice all the stars had blinked out. No. Not blinked out. Covered. Instead of the night sky, you were shielded by battle scarred navy wings, hiding you from sight. He hadn’t abandoned you. He’d protected you from anyone else who might see you breaking. “I’m sorry.” You said, too embarrassed to look at him. If you hadn’t already seemed pathetic, you were sure you did now. 

His voice wasn’t as harsh when he responded this time. “I have never found anyone worthy enough to be my next rider. Never had a desire to find one until I saw you at threshing. You were vicious, calculated, and a threat to anyone who tried to harm you. Those are the reasons I chose you. I had no idea you were Sgaeyl’s rider’s kin until you were informed of it yourself.” 

His words made you turn around, surprise all over your face. “You didn’t- you didn’t know?” 

For the first time, you saw something akin to sympathy in his eyes. “No, little one. I chose you for you, and you seem to have forgotten that you are your own person. With your own wants and needs that you are allowed to have no matter who you’re related to or who you choose to spend your time with.” 

“How can you say that when I just made one of the most selfish decisions of my life?” You asked in disbelief. 

Bhaltair shook his head from side to side. “No. I think you finally made a selfish choice you deserved.” He told you. 

His words struck you hard. For so long, you had measured yourself by everyone else’s needs and expectations - the perfect rider, the worthy sister - and tonight, for once, you’d chosen yourself. Chosen what you wanted. Maybe that wasn’t a crime after all? 

“And if I lost my best friend because of it?” You couldn’t help but ask. 

“Do not act as if you did not understand what ramifications might occur by mating with the former traitor.” He reminded you. 

The truth was you did. You tried to play it off with Dain like it only needed to be a one time thing, but from the moment his lips touched yours, you knew you were never going to be able to stop. Even now every inch of you craved to go and find him. Being in his presence made you feel . . . peaceful. But how could you do that knowing how much it had hurt Sloane? How much it would disappoint . . . everyone? 

“The girl will come around. Anyone with eyes can see the care you and the former traitor have for each other. If she truly has your best interest at heart, she will want your happiness.” 

You felt heat rushing to your face. “I - it’s not that - it’s not that obvious.” Was it? 

Bhaltair snorted. “I have forgotten how oblivious humans are to their own surroundings. It’s something you should work on as well.” 

You sighed, but a small smile formed on your face as a thought struck you. For the first time, you felt bonded and wanted by the dragon in front of you. 

And this time, it was enough to keep you standing.

[skibasyndrome]

please do the prompt 37: "aw, poor baby, do you want me to take care of this for you?"

with Simon teasing Wille and Wille being all quietly needy and whimpering 🙏🙏🙏

Thank you so much for sending me this prompt, dearest anon!!! 💜💜💜 Also thank you to everyone who voted in my poll for what to write next! Once again, it's Sunday and I have no snippet, so have this ficlet instead.

So sorry this took a while to get to, but I'm slowly working my way through the prompts. I hope you enjoy this one hehe, I had fun writing this!

cw: nsfw

Wille lets out a ragged puff of air, squeezing his eyes shut in frustration. He's too impatient, he knows, god, he knows, but he can't help it. He can't find the right angle, wrist starting to ache where he's wedged his hand in between his propped up legs.

It's not... none of this is working the way it's supposed to, he can't twist his fingers in the way he wants to, can't reach far enough in this position. The position he chose himself so he wouldn't have to avert his eyes from Simon. He lets out a quiet whine and reopens his eyes. A small pang hits his chest when he finds Simon staring at him already, head slightly inclined now, a contemplative smile only just curving his lips. Fuck. Wille needs him, needs him so bad, had been waiting for him to come home ever since he slipped out the door in the morning, has been feeling out of it ever since, chest tight, thoughts swirling and jumping and leaving no space for him to think about anything but finally getting out of his head. He pulls his two fingers out, shakes out his wrist, tries again. It's a little easier now, yes, not easy enough though. He knows Simon will make him do it again if he stops now, if he tries to cut this part short, will make him continue fingering himself open, will make sure he's thorough with it before Wille can get anywhere near having Simon fuck him. Wille wants to scream into a pillow, and it's his own fault he chose to lie on his back instead and can't. Across from him, down by the foot of the bed, Simon is kneeling, has been kneeling there for longer than Wille can even begin to comprehend, and with every single lazy tug he gives to his cock Wille digs his teeth harder into his bottom lip. He wants his hand there, he wants to be stroking him, he wants to swallow his cock down, he wants to have Simon turn him onto his stomach and fuck him into the mattress. It feels deeply unfair that he has to bother with prepping himself, that he doesn't get to touch, that he barely gets a good look at Simon. That Simon sits there, like he's bored, waiting until Wille finally is ready for him. Hands all by himself, because he knows he would only distract Wille with them. Because he knows Wille would forget all about his task, would lean into his touch instead. If he weren't so set on doing what Simon so sweetly asked him to earlier, with his breath warm and his grip on Wille's hair deliciously tight, a smile on his lips when he asked if Wille could be good, and patient, and get ready - if he didn't have his mind set on proving that he can, he'd have given up already. But with every passing second, with every time he needs to shift around, needs to reapply lube, needs to crane his neck so he can better see what he can't have just yet, it's getting more difficult. His back is damp with sweat, his fringe sticking to his forehead and even when he twists his fingers again, too impatient, wanting to get this over with, it's nothing like when Simon does it. No matter how much he tries, it's nothing alike. The stretch is not enough, his fingers aren't moving smoothly enough. Even when he wraps a fist around his cock, waned slightly now compared to when he desperately ground it against Simon's thigh earlier, it's not enough. He could scream. Without warning, Wille feels a hand on his knee.

His head perks up, eyes landing on Simon. He's leaned forward, has apparently scooted closer, eyes still trained on where Wille is clumsily working his fingers in and out of himself. When he looks up, gaze meeting Wille’s, there’s a glint of mischief there. Wille swallows hard, feels the dryness of his throat and the faint beginnings of wetness on his lash line. Simon moves his hand, slowly rubbing a warm palm over Wille's propped up knee, fingers extending towards his straining thigh. It takes all of Wille's remaining strength not to pull his fingers out and surge forward, not to tug Simon down and on top of him. He bites down harder on his lip. "Oh baby…," Simon coos, eyes raking up the length of his body and down again. The sound goes right to Wille's cock, makes it twitch weakly in his grip. There's a taunting lilt to Simon's voice, like he can't quite believe Wille can't do it. It makes Wille want to whine and thrash and complain, but, god, does it also pool dangerously hot behind his navel. Instead of doing anything, he watches, absolutely enthralled, how Simon keeps petting his leg. He skates his hand along Wille's shin, then back up, over his thigh, getting so close to his cock that Wille's heart skips a beat. He can almost feel Simon's fingers on him, in him, thinks his curse is going to be lifted, but Simon tuts. "You can't make it work, can you?" The taunt wedges itself into Wille's mind, sharp and searing like a bullet. Dropping his head, he lets out a helpless groan. His face buns red-hot with shame-drenched arousal. Almost fully hard again, fuck, just from this, just from Simon talking… Wille involuntarily squirms under Simon’s watchful eyes. His movements have stilled completely, the immobility almost making Simon’s gaze more piercing, Wille’s cheeks even redder. But even with his mind and body betraying him, he's stubbornly hesitant to admit defeat. As if he can tell, as if he knows, Simon’s face of put-upon pity cracks, lets a cheeky smile slip. The anticipation nearly has Wille’s pulse skip over itself. “Hmmm?” Simon hums then, and moves his hand further, onto Wille’s arm. Wille’s breath catches inside of his throat, like the touch has frozen him in time. Soft fingertips are tracing down his arm, over the back of his hand, over his knuckles, carefully avoiding Wille’s cock. Keeping the distance of Wille’s own hand between them at all times. It’s like Wille can hear his resolve cracking in real time. “This isn’t doing it for you, is it?” Wille’s eyes slip closed against his volition, breath noisy when he blows it out through his nose. Fuck. Very slowly, he shakes his head 'no'.

Suddenly, Simon slips his hand further down. He traces Wille’s curled wrist, brushes over the tendons of his hand. And then he’s there, and Wille briefly forgets how to breathe. Simon’s fingers are lined up with Wille’s, gently petting where Wille has failed to open himself up for him, where Wille’s fingers are still holding space, just rubbing the slick skin, almost absentmindedly. Wille whimpers so loudly that Simon uses his other hand on his thigh to soothe him. God, Wille needs him so badly, thinks he’s going to burst into tears if Simon doesn’t do something about it. “Aw, my poor baby…,” Simon purrs, sweet and soft and with a devastating confidence that has Wille throbbing in his own grip again. He keeps massaging Wille’s rim with deft fingers, keeps working around Wille’s cramped up hand as if it’s the most normal thing in the world. Words escape Wille, whines and broken moans and tiny movements of his hips the only way he’s able to take what Simon is offering. And he’s so greedy to take, so desperate for more, for everything. “Do you want me to take care of this for you?" When Wille nods wildly, tongue unwilling to form words, it’s like finally pulling the ripcord. Simon is quick to gentle Wille’s fingers out of himself, to shove his hand out of the way. The loud snap of a bottle cap, the slick sounds of him lubing up his fingers, and finally, finally, Simon is easing two of his fingers into Wille. Perfectly thick, angled just right, moving just slow enough to draw a string of needy noises out of Wille. He can feel his own cock hardening rapidly. Just as he’s about to warn Simon, about to promise he’s ready, beg for what he’s been waiting for all day, Simon shifts and lies down next to Wille, warm and smooth and hard against Wille’s hipbone. "Just have to ask, baby," Simon mumbles, moving his fingers even more slowly now, shallowly, like he knows Wille can already take him. Like he still wants to make him squirm and wait.  "I know this is difficult for you." His breath is hot against Wille's ear. His fingers unrelenting. "But you need to ask when you can't do it yourself. Need to let me help you." Wille nods weakly, throat dry from all his breathy gasps. "Yeah," he sobs, canting his hips for Simon to get better access, to go- oh. "Y-eah," he gasps again, breath leaving his lungs all at once when Simon nudges his fingers against that devastatingly sensitive spot inside of him. He tightens his fist around his cock, tries to reel back from the edge Simon has pushed him to. Then, “please”, he manages, voice cracking and eyes squeezed shut. With a last teasing drag of his fingers, Simon pulls back and away from Wille’s panting body, leaving his mind spinning, his muscles twitching. But when he hears the bottle cap again, the tell-tale slickness of Simon’s fist flying over himself, Wille feels his body relax against the mattress. Knows that Simon will take care of him.

Feel free to send me some prompts from that list, or just make some up <3 Or read my other ficlets here

also pls let me know what you think <3

[fleurstruck]

morning glory

pairing: mingyu x gender neutral reader

tags: fluff, domestic, forced proximity, roommates au, office au

requested: yes

this wasn't exactly an ideal situation to be in. your home had run into some issues with the pipes and the landlord was getting it fixed but you had to move out for a couple of weeks. you took your necessities, packed them in a dusty duffle bag you swore you'd use for gym one day, and moved out for the time being. you didn't really know where to stay either, dreading to move into an inn because that's already more money spent than you could afford this month.

thankfully, your work friend (and honestly, a little bit of a work crush but nothing's gonna happen with it ever!) had offered the extra room in his apartment to you. mingyu had reasoned well; it would be easier to get to the office, you wouldn't have to stay in a strange place, you both knew each other well enough so you two aren't strangers. you couldn't be grateful enough to have a roof over your head, so the next morning, when all the exhaustion of packing had left your body, you got up early to cook the both of you breakfast before he drives the two of you to work. 

you set to work in the kitchen, rummaging around to cook some pancakes for the two of you. you knew mingyu was a better cook than you, judging from all the fancy spices stored in a rack and all the bottles of whatever it is kept neatly in the cupboards, but you still wanted to try. humming away, you whisked the last of the batter. the pan was already heating up and the grumbling of your stomach tells you you can barely wait any longer for breakfast. pouring it carefully, the sizzle of the batter touching the pan somehow brings you joy. 

as you finish up cooking through the last of the bowl, the coffee machine going off, you hear heavy footsteps padding your way. "good morning, gyu!" your cheery voice reaches mingyu's ears, the delectable scent of buttery pancakes and coffee wafting throughout the apartment waking him up. 

you plate up the last of the pancakes, turning off the stove and turning around to set them on the table when your eyes widen in surprise. oh! he's… 

so, you learned something new about mingyu. which is that… he sleeps without a shirt on. and you know that now, as he stands shirtless before you– oh my god, you knew he was attractive but you didn't know the dress shirt and tie combo he wears every day for work hid all of that underneath it. blood rushes to your cheeks, pink blooming across your skin, unable to take your eyes away from the sight in front of you. you should really look away now. like now. you're still unable to look away. mingyu sleepily rubs away any sleep from his eyes, spotting the way you freeze with the plate of pancakes in hand. 

"oh, g'mornin'," he slurs, sleep still laced in his voice. 

"morning!" you repeat, voice squeaking on the last syllable. get a hold of yourself! "i made us some pancakes for breakfast. hungry?" you finally manage to tear your eyes away, busying yourself with setting up the table and trying really hard to not look at your current roommate. 

"mm, very." the deep voice does nothing to quell the butterflies in your stomach– why are there butterflies?! "i'll wash up first and i'll join you." 

mingyu walks away, leaving you alone at the table with your thoughts, and the butterflies, can't forget about them. so, yeah, this really wasn't an ideal situation. so, maybe you didn't think it through when he first offered because his toothy little grin was entrancing you, maybe you were a little distracted by the panic and the way his genuine concern and offer warmed your heart, and maybe it actually is a little more than a work crush at this point. but it's a little too late to back out when your bathroom products were already in the guest bathroom and you've got no one else to turn to that lives even remotely as close as mingyu's apartment is. 

yeah! definitely! mingyu comes back, disrupting you from your train of thought, thankfully with a shirt on this time. he smells like the aftershave you've caught a whiff of a couple of times when he leans over to check the data on your laptop. your heart skips a couple of beats as he flashes that toothy grin at you, sleep all washed away. 

"thank you for the food!" he says, and suddenly all your worries wash away too. 

[waltzing-rats]

They are going to a sleepover :)

[the-owl-tree]

also figured out the clan names i wanted to use so! we got mustangclan, serpentclan (might change), coyoteclan, boarclan (thank you bonefall), cardinalclan and tempestclan.

some light notes on each, might do a more detailed post later-

some general worldbuilding notes:

do not ask me how this biome functions

the cats cook, prepare food, and know how to start fire.

subranks like courier, head of patrols, head of hunting, and so on exist. their power and relevancy varies within each clan. the deputy/deputies are in charge of managing them.

not all clans have the same positions and wording.

no starclan, these cats worship a pantheon of gods and pray to the appropriate god for advice. the gods have different names and appearances depending on which clan you go to, not writing them out because i haven't figured out every name yet lol

mustangclan

leader: bearstar; deputy: duskclaw; medic(s): fogstep and foxtrot

semi-nomadic, have a few different camps scattered around the map they travel to depending on their needs.

because their camps are so scattered, they often have pre-arranged travel paths through other clans territories. in the past, they'd just brute force their way through though, with different leadership, have begun to put more value in negotiations.

heavy emphasis on might makes right, though that's begun to change. lots of value in conquest, combat, and defending one's honor through force.

names often reflect this with aggressive predators and suffixes like -claw, -strike, -bite being common.

the clan is your family, lineage and blood relations are downplayed in favor of serving one's clan.

unfortunately for bearstar, his father was the last leader...and his own daughter won the trial for deputy. no one would outright accuse such a popular leader of nepotism and spitting on their values...at least not to his face.

leader and deputy are decided through combat, i like the idea that there's a makeshift "coliseum" that all the clans can use to settle minor disputes.

you can challenge the leader and deputy for their position at any time, you just have to win through battle.

outsiders can enter if they prove they're strong enough.

mustangclan cats are blunt to the point of coming across as rude and have a dark sense of humor, which can often rub other clan cats the wrong way.

strongest ally is boarclan, whom they fought alongside in a moon's old war against coyoteclan (pre-war, who were actually three small clans in a coalition!) and cardinalclan.

most of the cats here are followers of the god of war and glory, though followers of the god of the hunt and harvest are common (though they are a popular god in all clans)

serpentclan

leader: troutstar; deputies: saugerleap & pikesnap; physician: turtlestep

stationary, reside in one massive camp that's split into three sections: exterior where the warriors sleep, middle section where the nursery, elders, and physician's den lies, and the central section where the leader, deputies, and other leaderkin stay.

essentially a hereditary monarchy, the leader here is the one that speaks with the gods. this keeps their power absolute, the physician in serpentclan is purely to help heal.

some leader lineages have placed their children in the physician position, just to maximize their power over the clan. troutstar didn't get that, had two sons with no interest in learning medicine.

family lines often have a naming theme. troutstar's lineage uses fish names.

they try to completely avoid war, troutstar has established a long history of lengthy negotiations to avoid combat (saugerleap likes to joke his father has won negotiation wars by boring his enemies to tears).

can come across as snooty and arrogant to the other clans, they find the other clans history of war and bloodshed to be, not repulsive, but almost like...embarrassing?

they don't get along with mustangclan and boarclan cats lol

completely isolated during past wars.

outsiders are allowed to join, but most are barred from every ascending to the position of leadership or even become a physician.

one of the clans that practices betrothals, though it's most used for cross-clan negotiations. saugerleap and duskclaw were briefly engaged to cement a travel path for boarclan through serpentclan territory, though that fell through after saugerleap got discovered with his boarclan boyfriend.

lots of followers of the god of water here, thanks to troutstar's long reign; also lots of followers of the god of art.

coyoteclan

leader: oxeyestar; advisor(s): goosehop, duckstrut, grousetail; saint: icesnap

once three small clans - lupineclan, roseclan, yarrowclan - that worked in a coalition; a past war against stallionclan devastated them as they were forced into one cohesive unnamed clan to better control them. when the war ended, stallionclan pulled out from this group, leaving a massive power vacuum that a new player, tempestclan, took notice of.

this ended with them putting a leader of their choosing into this new clan, renaming them coyoteclan for their cleverness and resourcefulness to survive. this move solidified the alliance between the two groups...an alliance which slowly has begun to degrade as more of the warriors recognize just how much control tempestclan assumed.

the advisors and the saint of coyoteclan are all sent from tempestclan, feeding information back to tempestclan and swaying oxeyestar's decisions.

oxeyetail was no special warrior when picked, some naive and arrogant enough to believe he was so special that the god tempestclan worships picked him out of everyone. it's gone to his head quite a bit.

leaders are picked by the advisors of the clan, though they do a bit of fog and lights to try and make it more legitimate, as if the leader really has been handpicked by a god.

anyone can join, not many want to unfortunately.

it's not uncommon for coyoteclan to skip gatherings, there's a lot of resentment. when they do go, they can come across as prickly and quick to judge. but their sharp wit can make them good conversation partners.

their closest ally is tempestclan.

while tempestclan's influence has forced a lot of them to believe in their sole god, followers of the god of the sun and day still take up the majority in coyoteclan. other popular gods are the god of luck and the god of the hunt and harvest.

boarclan

leader(s): dawnstar & sandstar; deputies: nightstride, darkwater, dewleaf, lifeseeker; healer(s): raindrop, jaycall

a big clan with five different camps, set up around their territory where they often shuffle around depending on what they need. one's probably utilized completely for the healers, acting as both a herb garden and a quarantine zone.

the non-healer camps are run by the four deputies while the leaders often circulate around each week to make sure everything is alright.

similar to mustangclan, boarclan has a big culture around combat. though, it's more considered a performance akin to art rather than a way of life. showing off your strength is encouraged.

leadership is done the more traditional canon wc style, picked based on merit. however, you can absolutely challenge a deputy, healer, and leader if you'd like. it's a big event though, everyone's getting their roasted duck legs to watch a fight.

while hereditary leadership lineages aren't law enforced, they aren't discouraged. dawnstar and sandstar are mates, with their deputies and one of their healers (jaycall) being their kittens.

two leaders only, any more is demanding too much from the gods. they used to have more, but it resulted in a civil war that killed all four of the original leaders. two makes sure there is balance.

a very boisterous and loud group, play fighting is common and loud tales of glory and survival are often told at night around a fire.

for that reason they can come off across as abrasive, loud, and disruptive. they aren't trying to be, but not a lot of boarclan cats realize how loud they are.

they used to be a closed clan, though they've opened up somewhat to idea of cats joining.

their closest ally is mustangclan but dawnstar and sandstar has been working to try and repair relationships with cardinalclan.

a majority of boarclan cats are followers of the god of beasts.

cardinalclan

king: swiftstar; next-in-line: cranegaze; magistrates: cootwaddle, crowfoot, piperstreak, tattlertail, gullcry; cleric: loonback, cormorantpelt, pelicanjaw

a very hierarchical clan, their hierarchy extends to warriors themselves though i'm still teasing out the details.

forest clan, their camp hidden away. i'm still figuring out the details, i think they operate similar to serpentclan's camp just with more layers to reflect their hierarchy.

a hereditary leadership system, swiftstar is a long line of leaders groomed from birth to inherit the throne. his sister cranegaze is next-in-line, with their youngest sister, mallardsong, being the one to inherit afterwards.

magistrates act as the leader's advisors, the next-in-lines mentors, and enforcers of the leader's rulings. despite not inheriting the throne, they command a massive amount of respect from the clan and hold a lot of sway, with some forming their own unofficial courts of cats they can rely on to get things done.

betrothals are common in the "noble" bloodline of cardinclan, with swiftstar, cranegaze, and mallardsong's parents' mateship having been prearranged.

their parents were killed in a raid organized by the previous leaders of boarclan in a bid to control a very lush piece of territory. the devastation of losing their king and queen increased the antagonism towards boarclan tenfold.

swiftstar entertaining dawnstar and sandstar's pleas for peace is wildly unpopular, especially among his own magistrates.

cardinclan only names their cats after birds, yes this will probably come to bite me in the ass if I ever try and do a full allegiance.

i'd like the swiftstar line to have some sort of surname or title? still mulling it over.

a big artsy culture encouraged by the ruling cats, portraits of the king, of the clan in its prime, and of the god of art are very popular. cats of cardinclan also love to decorate themselves for gatherings and just general special events, smearing mushed up berries on their fur and rolling in flowers.

they used to have a strong alliance with the three clans that once made up coyoteclan, but tempestclan's control has withered that alliance away.

tempestclan

leader (referred to as the "father" of tempestclan): tempeststar; saints: martinbounce, wolverinesnarl, cariboucall, lynxstrike, cougarpelt, marmotscreech, beaversnap, pikapounce

isolated in a mountain range, the harsh weather and conditions to travel to this clan has kept them from being invaded by others for a long, long time. their camp resides in an abandoned village with an old church being where camp meetings are called.

an intensely religious clan, born around the idea there is one singular god whom they must devote themselves to entirely. they are patriarchal in nature, mostly as a way to better control the numbers of their clan.

this extends down to sometimes arranging mateships for the cats of tempestclan, blightspirit's parents was an arranged mateship between cariboucall and sheepstomp, a loner who was "rescued" by tempestclan after nearly freezing to death and was coerced into joining them. yes, it's as horrific as it sounds.

saints are often from a long lineage, though they dress it up with the idea they have been picked by their god. their leader, who when ascending to leadership is always renamed to tempeststar, is mostly just a figurehead to vocalize the saints orders. an ultimate figure of authority for the cats to follow. the current tempeststar's old name was snowdancer, he misses his old name and his close friends refer to him as 'snowy' in private.

blightspirit was being trained to take over his father's position, decided to get rid of any specific healer position. saints now handle that to maximize their control and authority over the clan.

this intense isolationism in both their policies and their territory has resulted in their clan numbers dwindling, taking a heavy toll when an exiled cat, stripped of her full name and just referred to as 'wolf', took some of her followers with her in exile.

so when mustangclan left a group with a big ol power vacuum in a region with prey, herbs, and lots of kittens to bring up the mountains...the saints decided the kindest thing to do would be to lend their aid, in exchange for herbs, resources, and some apprentices. it's only fair after all they've done for coyoteclan, don't you think?

kind of a miserable place to live, either with those unable to leave or those who genuinely believe in the religion pushed by the saints.

reserved, tired, and distrustful of strangers, most of the other clans barely know what tempestclan is like. they never come to gatherings and none, besides coyoteclan, have gotten into talks with them.

closest alliance is coyoteclan, whom they essentially rule from within and take advantage of.

they pray to a different god from those in the pantheon, choosing one singular god of cats that rules absolute.

[billwasnot]

NOTHING WRONG

Yeah so I loved how this scene was animated

[a-caterpillars-world]

❤ 2 ships passing in the night, reunited at the docks 💚

[hexcitrine]

randomly looked at this account to update my age and holy shit it's been a while since i posted here..........i have a small pile of art i have yet to post but hbhbshdbshbd too lazy

[akai-anna]

So I already asked this before, but here I am asking you to do it again cause I honestly really enjoy reading about how you view each of the relationships in decto. So if it's not too much to ask will you do a part 3 just rambling about other relationships in decto. Also I'm glad my last ask made you that happy, and don't worry take as long as you like there's no rush to make them.

Anon-san. Dear. Darling. You are truly a blessing, a pure source of joy, a beauty in this measly existence we call a life. I would have never thought you'd come back for more rambling. Just. Thank you. So much.

And I'm happy you enjoyed my previous ramblings, and I hope you will enjoy this one too.

Notes, as always:

as in the previous asks relating to the ship opinion bingo, i interpret relationships in the broadest possible sense

i check everything that makes sense to me, even if they seem contradictory; i view them applied to different situations/universes/possibilities

*rolls up sleeves* Ok, now buckle up.

I. Akai Shuuichi/Okiya Subaru - Kudou Shinichi/Edogawa Conan (and The Kudous)

The Silver Bullet Duo (and the Parents Partners In Crime)

They just... have such a fascinating dynamic.

Akai, first learning about this lil kiddo through investigating Vermouth (Cool Guy) and as they started interacting, treating this boy as an equal despite him (seemingly) being a child. The fact he is openly impressed by Conan/Shinichi ("You always amaze us, boy."); I cannot put into words how important it is to me that Akai respects this gremlin child. (ONE OF thE BESt INVEstigAtoRS IN JAPAN HE SAID!!!!) Shinichi Being all sus of the guy at first, only to find a great mind in him, an amazing scheming partner, someone he can trust to protect his friend. They are not only on the the same wavelength (not even being in the same place) but make a very effective as a team; the sheer compatibility.

But also their actual first meeting BEING: SHINICHI BASICALLY CALLING AKAI SHUUICHI A CLOWN. INCREDIBLE.

And also, Akai being one of the precious few who knows about this lil gremlins identity. It's so important to me; as someone who dearly wants and aches for Shinichi to share his identity with at least a few other people, I cherish all individuals who are aware of his true identity. Not to mention, that the identity reveal to Akai was one of the most hilarious things I have ever witnessed. (Shinichi literally outing himself because he is too comfortable, too at ease in his own home and around these people, and distracted by Ran and solving the mystery, he forgets to be cautious. THIS FCKIN CHILD I LOVE HIM.)

And Akai constantly hinting at his real identity gets me so bad too. They are so precious to me.

And then there is the whole Akai-Yukiko & Yuusaku dynamic too. He literally became part of this oddball of a family? (YUKIKO tAUGHt HIM to COOK I CANNOt???) FITTING IN WITH THEM SO EFFORTLESSLY. I LOVE THEM.

⊱✿⊰

II. Agasa Hiroshi - Kudou Shinichi/Edogawa Conan - Miyano Shiho/Haibara Ai (- Detective Boys Trio)

Found Family: "Sometimes a family is 1 middle-aged man, 2 fake and 3 real elementary students" as I like to say.

Not many scenes to share here (tho I will definitely collect them in my newest reread session) because I don't have the energy to look for them. BUT.

Agasa Hiroshi is a Good Man. He doesn't have to invent all that stuff for Shinichi BUT HE DOES. He doesn't have to help this lil gremlin out BUT HE STILL DOES. All the times he just drove him around, all the times he allowed himself to be used (with no advance notice which he keeps ASKING SHINICHI FOR, TO JUST LET HIM KNOW) as a way to solve a crime; EVERYTHING HE DOES, DESPITE KNOWING HOW DANGEROUS IT IS. The way he only helped Yukiko and Yuusaku with the mad plan (because IT IS MAD; ODDBALLS) of "kidnapping Edogawa Conan" because he thought it would help drive the point home, of how dangerous this whole business is. Agasa Hiroshi just wants what might be best and safest for Shinichi. Just being there for him, and if he cannot he lets others, who can, know (Yuusaku and Yukiko in the above scene, Heiji in desperate revival, and so on). He cares.

On the other side, Shinichi might seem like, he doesn't appreciate Prof Agasa much at first glance (his constant comments about Agasa creating junk, says the one who uses his inventions, HYPOCRITE), but god, he goes BALLISTIC WHEN IT COUNTS. (Kidnapping case, just to mention one off the top of my head.) Shinichi literally grew up with this weird adult figure around, he is like family to him, and he cares. Tons. He trusts Agasa Hiroshi, literally, with his life.

Moving on: another point of Prof being a really good man. The way he is with the kids. He literally goes out of his way, to take them out to places, spend time with them. Be it camping, or eating out, or invent stuff for them, cooking for them, or just getting a cake to eat together... He got attached to these kids (just like Shinichi himself) as they spent more and more time together, and cares a great deal about them. And the kids grew fond of him too, despite all the little comments and teasing. (Or as I see it: he is an adult figure to them that they are comfortable around, and are not afraid to say what they think.)

As for Ai. Exhibit C of Agasa Hiroshi being a really good, kind-hearted person.

Agasa Hiroshi picked up a girl that brings even more danger with her mere presence, and at this point she is not trustworthy. Who knows what she might do? But he took her in anyways. (Without talking to Shinichi too, which led to some Emotions and Yelling.) And as time went on, this girl, who constantly lives in fear of being discovered (fearing so much, that she even tries to let herself die, and considers leaving everyone behind to protect them), slowly crawls out of her shell, to just be a person. Ai and Agasa come to care about each other too, so deeply; there is no blood-relation between them, yet there is such a strong familial bond between the two. (People mistaking them as father and daughter!)

They are a weird lil family unit, your honour, and I care about them so. So. SO MUCH.

⊱✿⊰

III. Mouri Kogorou - Kudou Shinichi/Edogawa Conan - Mouri Ran

The Mouri Family Unit

I just love them. God. I do.

I love how Shinichi got integrated into Kogorou and Ran's everyday life (be it cleaning, or just checking he's there and didn't run off again LOL). I love the rare moments of Kogorou actually being parental, be it to the lil gremlin or Ran. (HE LOVES BOTH OF THEM YOUR HONOUR!!!

I adore the fact that they watch stuff together, and discuss it, I find it really sweet (and funny). Also the fact that they eat together. Eating together with loved ones is a very important point in my own life, and it's a really... "intimate" is not quite the word I'm looking for but... I guess a bonding thing. Something meaningful. And these 3 definitely do it most days. The way they are so comfortable around each other, and everyone has their own lil space at the table. I really adore the thought of Shinichi getting so used to the lil routines and bustle of the Mouri Household, that after he turns back, he'll miss it. Especially, how he was living alone for years before the Conanification, without his parents; the Mouris are such a strong contrast against that. (Post-Conan Shinichi, that moves back to the Kudou House, and finds it too big and quiet and lonely, just going over to Agasa's and the Mouris' all the time to be around his loved ones. Him spending most of his time at their places, so much, his stuff is slowly moved into both places. And No One says a thing about it, it just happens, and they all let it happen. Please. I'm WEAK.)

I also love to see them in various combinations: Ran-Shinichi teaming up against Occhan, but also Ran and Kogorou constantly being "WHERE IS THE CHILD" in their own ways, and Shinichi and Kogorou team up too (like the time they tailed Ran, or when Ran told them Araide will be in the play too, HAHA). Each is so very delightful for their own reasons.

Thank you so much for asking me (AGAIN!!!!) to talk about relationships, it means a lot tome, and I truly hope you enjoyed reading these! May you have a blessed day, darling.

[sv3t1ana]

Thinking about Husband!Sukuna who just lets you do whatever the fuck you want now.

There was a time when he protested. A time when he had pride, pride in being a man, in being a fearsome king, commanding respect wherever he went.

But you?

You were relentless. So utterly, absurdly relentless that at some point, he just stopped fighting it.

He had never been a man of many words, and marriage hadn’t changed that. It was only a week ago that he sat comfortably on his throne, heavy head resting in his palm as he drifted off to sleep, until he was interrupted by the sudden weight (or loss?) on his chest.

A lesser man would have panicked, but your husband? No. He merely took a long inhale, an even longer exhale, and cracked one eye open to find your tiny, mischievous hands cupping his pecs like a scientist.

“They don’t really move like mine,” you mused, experimentally bouncing the firm muscle in your grasp.

He didn’t know if the subject of this experiment was his breaking point or whatever nonsense idea had wormed its way into your head this time.

Your expression was serious, too serious, as you moved in front of him, gripping the hem of his robe as if a scholar prepped for a dissertation.

“May I remove this?”

His eyes, half-lidded with the dull exhaustion that only centuries of being a king could bring, slowly trailed to meet yours. His lips pressed into a flat line.

You took his silence as consent.

And soon enough, his shirt was discarded, leaving him bare from the waist up as you squinted in intense concentration, leaning in close to his chest.

It was pathetic, really. The size difference. Your husband was a mountain of a man, yes, his frame large enough to dwarf yours entirely. And yet, there you were, fingers struggling to span across his tits as you earnestly attempted to jiggle them, as if you could replicate your own softness on his ironclad frame.

At one point, you had both of his pecs squished together, testing them like some critical judge at a livestock competition.

“Wow, you’re a lot different than me.”

Oh, his lovely wife. His lovely wife, who was genuinely comparing her milk-producing breasts to those of a war-hardened king.

Oh, the patience he had for you.

And despite the sheer disrespect you continually brought upon the honor of Sukuna, the King, the Conqueror, the Lord of Curses…

He still let you.

And it never stopped.

Because right now, right this very moment, he was balls-deep inside you, your knees pinned to your chest as he fucked you senseless, guttural moans echoing in the grand chamber as he pounded into your dripping cunt.

The nights the lord would bed his wife was always the same, multiple orgasms, a sore throat, bruises painting your skin like a lover’s signature, and the brutal satisfaction of a man who knew he could ruin you.

There couldn’t have been a worse time, a worse thought, and for the first time in his life, Sukuna wished, prayed, for something to be different about his wife.

“W-wait, ‘Kuna- fuck- wait-!”

Because he never wanted you in pain, never wanted you to feel anything but pleasure despite the sixth climax of the night barreling toward him, he reluctantly halted.

Oh, may the lords above grant him the strength.

Because you, thoroughly fucked out, hair knotted, sweat glistening across your body, brought your trembling hands forward,

and groped his fucking tits.

Like he was some toy for you to hold onto.

“Okay, continue.”

He stilled. In shock? In horror? In spiritual agony?

Slowly, he tried to thwart at your hands, momentarily lifting one from under your knee, but-

“No, I said continue.”

That’s right. Your wish was his command.

So he continued. And every time his cock rammed deep into your walls, every time you moaned so sinfully, your little hands squeezed tighter.

It was almost comical, your soft, delicate fingers clutching at his immovable chest as if this was your god-given right.

With a grunt, he muttered, “Why must you do this?” His brows furrowed, thrusts becoming punishing.

Through your breathless whimpers, you somehow managed, “Ngh- I just- oh, god- like them.”

His cock twitched at your honesty.

His breasts flexing in tandem.

And when your shaking fingers dared to pinch his nipple…

Oh, that was when the real fun began.

“Fuck, don’t- fuck-” He spat through gritted teeth.

Neither of you could ignore the way his back arched the tiniest bit, the way his thrusts faltered for a split second as your fingers toyed with him.

You were too far gone to form coherent sentences, let alone fucking laugh, but your lips curled in amusement, jaw slack as the wet pat-pat-pat of his cock slamming into you filled the air.

“You think this shit is funny?”

His hold on you shifted. With inhuman ease, he lifted your legs, pressing them together straight up in the air, holding your feet in a single massive hand while his other gripped your thigh in a vice.

The new position devastating.

His thick cock dragged along every sensitive spot inside you, punching deep into your cunt, the head kissing your cervix with every pump.

It was enough to wreck you, your body shuddering as your next orgasm tore through you like divine wrath.

And Sukuna, normally composed and always in control, was panting.

As you both lay side by side afterward, spent and breathless, a singular, intrusive thought carved its way into your little head.

“...Can I be big spoon tonight?”

He didn’t respond, simply sighing and rolling onto his side. Letting you attempt to wrap your arms around his impossibly broad back.

Oh, his lovely, sweet wife.

Your hand reached down, fingers splaying, grabbing a handful of his ass.

A slow, agonizing inhale.

Then a measured, exasperated exhale.

“...No more tonight. Please.”

You couldn’t see his face, your own buried between his shoulder blades.

But maybe, juuust maybe, someone, somewhere, could say there was the barest twitch of a smile on his lips.

[itneverendshere]

LOVED YOU AT YOUR WORST - r.c series - ONE

pairings: ex!sweethearts; rafe x thornton!reader; rafe x sofia. chapter warnings: none (angst) chapter two┆ chapter three ┆ chapter four

The bass from the speakers rattled the glass in your hand as you leaned against the porch railing, eyes scanning the backyard for him—Rafe.

It had been a long month.

Longer than you thought it would be. Usually, when you and Rafe had your little “breaks,” they lasted about a week, maybe two at most. It was always something stupid, a screaming match that ended with slammed doors and his truck peeling out of your driveway. But it never lasted. It couldn’t. You’d known each other too long, been through too much, and deep down, there was this unspoken truth—he’d always come back.

But this time was different.

This time, he wasn’t calling or showing up at your window in the middle of the night, eyes tired and sorry, pulling you into his arms. The space between you had been growing wider since his dad died. And sure, maybe it was your fault for what you said after Ward’s death—But it was the truth.

Still, you hadn’t expected him to shut you out completely. Two months. Two months of silence. And the only thing you’d heard about him since was through Ruthie, Topper’s new girlfriend, of all people. A random comment at Mase’s place—something about how Rafe had been hanging around some pogue girl named Sofia.

You’d rolled your eyes at that.

Rafe? With some Pogue? Yeah, right.

You pretended not to care when she tossed it out like it was nothing.

You weren’t stupid.

You’d always known Rafe wasn’t the easiest guy to love. He was complicated, angry—but so were you. And in some messed-up way, that’s why you two worked. Or at least, why you thought you did. You were just as stubborn, just as damaged. But now, as you sipped your drink and looked around, something felt off.

Your gut was tight, and that nagging feeling that’d been growing restless under your skin since the breakup only grew stronger the longer you stood there.

You pushed yourself off the railing, discarding your drink on a table before moving through the crowd, past people you knew but didn’t bother with.

Your mind was set on one thing—Rafe. You were done with the break. You had your space. It’s time to get back together. It was never even really a question. It was just the way things worked with you two.

But then there was Ruthie—blocking your path, her wide smile dripping with the kind of smugness that set your teeth on edge. She looked like she was reveling in your misery and that little giggle she let out only made it worse.

"So glad you could make it!" she sang out, her voice too sweet, too bright. Her eyes flickered over you like she was sizing you up, taking stock of every inch of your perfectly put-together outfit.

You forced a smile, “Yeah, well, wouldn’t miss a party like this,” you said, keeping your tone casual.

You weren’t in the mood for whatever game she was playing.

“Oh, I just bet,” she replied, her smile growing wider. She stepped closer, her breath reeking of cheap wine, and you had to resist the urge to roll your eyes. Ruthie always drank too much at these things.

What the hell was her problem? She always acted like she knew something you didn’t, like she held the keys to all the dirty little secrets in Kildare, and she loved dangling them in front of people just to watch them squirm.

“Ruthie, I swear to God—” you began, but she cut you off, her grin widening.

“Oh, honey,” she cooed, her voice dripping with fake sympathy, “don’t get mad at me. I’m just the messenger. You should really be talking to Rafe about this.” She took a step back, still smiling, and glanced over her shoulder. “He’s around, you know. You can go find him yourself. See how cozy he’s gotten with her.”

You bit your tongue, jaw, forcing yourself to stay calm. She was trying to get under your skin, like the snake she’d always been. You couldn’t believe Top was lonely and horny enough to finally fall into her claws.

“Thanks for the tip,” you gave her a tight lipped grimace, brushing past her, didn’t try and wait for her reply.

You only caught glimpses of empty rooms along the way. You hadn’t seen him since the break, and part of you didn’t want to admit how much that messed you up. How much he messed you up. Your steps slowed as you neared the hall that led to the back of the house, the sound of voices filtering through the air. You recognized some, laughed at the drunken ramblings, until one voice cut through the noise. Rafe’s.

And then you heard hers.

No fucking way.

You didn’t stop. You couldn’t. You told yourself you just needed to see him, talk to him, tell him this break had gone on long enough, that you were done with the games. That’s when you heard it again—her laugh. It was light, flirtatious, the kind of laugh that made your stomach turn into a million different directions because you knew exactly what it meant.

She was there, with him.

You moved forward, the hallway barely lit as you reached the half-closed bathroom door. Your breath hitched, hands trembling as you peeked through the small crack, unable to stop yourself from looking.

There they were.

She was smiling, laughing softly at something he’d said, her fingers brushing through her hair as if she didn’t have a care in the world. Your breath caught in your throat as you watched his hands move, tying the knot in her bikini with such gentle precision like he’d done it a thousand times. The kind of softness he used to have with you. And then he said it, his voice teasing, amused like this was some kind of inside joke between them.

"God, this is just landing right in my lap, isn’t it?"

You froze.

He laughed quietly, his lips brushing against Sofia’s shoulder as he tied the last knot, and the way he touched her—like she was something to be savored—sent a rush of burning humiliation straight through your chest.

You stumbled back, your heart pounding in your ears as Rafe’s words repeated over and over in your head. Landing right in my lap.

What the fuck was this?

Your heart clenched, vision blurring as what you were seeing slammed right into you. You backed away, your hand flying to your mouth to stop the sob from escaping. But it didn’t help, not even a little. The tears burned, and you turned quickly, practically running back through the house and out the door before anyone could see the humiliating mess you were becoming.

It was real. He moved on in two fucking months. That’s all it had taken for him to replace you, to be done with you.

He was over you, just like that.

After everything you’d been through together, all the times you had to pull him out of his own darkness, the nights spent in his arms when you thought you couldn’t breathe because your whole family was gone—after years of being his and him being yours—how the fuck could he move on when you’d been rotting away in self loathing for pushing him away?

Your head spun as you stumbled down the steps, out to the street where your car was parked. You couldn’t breathe, it was coming out too fast, shallow, and your hands were shaking so hard you had to press them against your knees to hold yourself up.

What the hell was wrong with you? You hadn’t even had anything to drink. But your stomach was rolling, twisting in knots so tight you couldn't stand straight. You leaned against the side of your car, the cool metal grounding you to reality for a second before a wave of nausea hit, forcing you to double over and retch onto the pavement.

Tears stung your eyes as you coughed, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. You felt dizzy, disgusted even, everything you thought you knew, everything you thought was yours, had been ripped out from under you.

Without a single warning, not a text, not a stupid call, just pure indifference. No respect or regard for you. None of them. Everything you’d just seen replayed in your mind—Rafe, her, the way he touched her like she meant something to him.

“Look who’s still standing!” Topper’s voice. He was laughing as he strolled over, hands shoved in his pockets, that same carefree grin on his face that he always had at parties. “Jesus, what did you have to drink? You look like you’ve been hit by a truck.”

Normally, you might have had something to say back, maybe a fiery insult or a roll of your eyes. But right now, everything felt like too much. You couldn’t say a word.

Your cousin stopped beside you, his grin dropping as he finally looked at you. “Hey, what’s wrong?” He leaned down, trying to catch your eyes. “You good? You look kinda—"

You cut him off, the question was heavy, a lump lodged in your throat. “Did you know?”

He blinked, the confusion spreading across his face. “Know what?”

You swallowed, your heart hammering in your chest as you forced the words out, your voice shaking.

“About Rafe and Sofia.”

You hated saying her name. Hated that you’d been forced to know it by heart.

Topper’s smile dropped, his expression changing. He didn’t answer, but he didn’t have to, you knew him well enough to read his micro expressions. You clenched your fists, you were the only one in the island who’d been let out of the secret. Surely, your friends, your only family would’ve told you something right? It’s not like you were on a remote island away from them.

You’d spent the last month in New York, not in the fucking jungle.

You visited occasionally. You were a call away.

“Did everyone fucking know?”

Topper exhaled slowly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Look, we didn’t think it was serious. You know how it is with you two—you’ve done this before. Played with other people…”

Played with other people. Like you and Rafe were just some game, a revolving door of heartbreak and hookups. It didn’t make sense. You’d always known how it worked, understood how these things went—but it was never real.

You stumbled back, feeling like you might collapse.

“Oh my God, I’m going to be sick again.”

He reached out, obviously concerned since he hadn’t seen you in this desperate state in years, “Hey, hey, calm down. Look, it’s not like it means anything. Rafe’s just—he’s going through a lot with his dad dying, and he… he’s just messing around. You know how he gets.”

But the words did nothing to soothe you. They only made it worse—how everyone knew, they’d all watched Rafe move on, while you were stuck, still reeling from the breakup, thinking he’d come back like he always did. And he was just out there, with her.

With someone else.

You pressed a hand to your stomach, your head hurting. The idea of Sofia, of Rafe being with someone else in ways that only you knew—ways that had always been yours—made you feel like you were being torn apart.

Topper was still talking, still trying to rationalize it, but his words were like static now, blending into the noise of the party behind you.

“It doesn’t mean anything,” he was saying. “You know how it goes. You always end up back together. He’s just doing whatever to distract himself.”

That word. Distract himself, as if your entire relationship could be boiled down to that—a series of distractions until you decided to come back to each other, to pick up the pieces and pretend everything was okay.

You could still remember the night your life changed—the phone call, the horrible, gut-wrenching moment when you learned that your family’s private plane had gone down. Your parents, your sister.

Gone, just like that.

Rafe had been the one to pull you through it. He was the one who had held you as you cried so hard you thought you were going to die, who sat with you in silence when you couldn’t bring yourself to speak, who stayed with you every single night because you were terrified to be alone in a haunted mansion that now felt like a mausoleum.

You'd been seventeen, and losing them all at once had killed something inside of you. But he was there. He wasn’t perfect—far from it—but he knew what it was like to grieve.

He knew loss, he understood. Because you’d been there for him two years earlier, when his mom lost her battle to cancer. You could still see the look in his eyes that day—fourteen years old and already drowning in so much anger and sadness, like the world had ripped something essential out of him.

The way he cried at her funeral when he thought no one was watching, and you’d found him, sat beside him in the cold, letting him cry without saying a word. You hadn’t started dating yet, hadn’t crossed that line, but something had changed between you two in those moments.

A connection, a bond forged in shared pain, in the kind of trauma that no one else really got. Maybe that was why you were so obsessed with each other, it was fucked up, but you couldn’t imagine anyone else understanding you the way Rafe did.

How could it all come down to this? To you standing here, feeling like the world was ending while he moved on, laughing and touching someone else like nothing you had ever been through mattered?

Was that it?

Did that one moment, that one argument about Ward, erase everything you’d done for him?

All the times you’d been there, the way you had comforted him when he felt like his life was spiraling? You remembered exactly what you’d said a month after the funeral, when your boyfriend blamed everyone but Ward for his own death. "He wasn’t a good person, baby. I know he was your dad, but you can’t pretend like he didn’t fuck you up."

You hadn’t even said it to hurt him, not really. It was just the truth. Ward had been a terrible father, controlling and manipulative, and you’d spent years watching Rafe try to live up to some impossible standard, chasing his father’s approval like it would ever be enough. But that didn’t make it easier for him to hear. You should have known better, how raw he was after losing his dad, how complicated his feelings were.

But instead, you’d been brutal. Honest, but brutal.

And now, two months later, here you were—staring at the empty street, wondering if you’d pushed him too far. If that one moment of honesty was enough to make him forget everything else. Now you were just the ex, the crazy one who didn’t know when to keep her mouth shut.

“Fuck, why did I say that?” you whispered to yourself, voice shaking. Why couldn’t you have just let it go?

But then another clarity of anger took over you, pushing away the guilt that had been building inside.

So you’d been too harsh about Ward. So you’d said what everyone else had been too scared to say.

It wasn’t like you’d been wrong. Ward had messed Rafe up.

Everyone knew it. He knew it, deep down.

You gritted your teeth, staring out at the dark street, the hum of the party still buzzing faintly behind you. You were never going to get that picture out of your head. Like they hadn’t just met, like you hadn’t spent years learning how to calm Rafe when he spiraled, how to hold him together when he couldn’t hold himself.

Your chest tightened again, a bitter taste rising in your throat.

You could still feel the weight of his head on your shoulder that night, years ago, when his mom passed. The silent sobs that shook his body, the way he’d held onto you. That was the real Rafe—the one he hid from everyone else, who was lost and broken underneath all the anger.

And you’d seen him, really seen him in ways no one else ever could.

Not Sofia. Not anyone.

"Look, you're emotional, okay? I get it. Maybe it's that time of the month or something. You know how you always get when your hormones go crazy."

The words got to you, but not in the way he probably thought they would. At first, it pissed you off, like it always did when people tried to downplay your emotions. Everyone always said you felt too much, that you were out of control.

But then…

You stopped moving, blinking rapidly as his words spiraled around in your brain. ‘Time of the month’, he'd said.

Your heart started doing summersaults, your stomach dropping as the idea settled in. You grabbed your phone, hands trembling like leaves as you opened the calendar app. You scrolled, trying to think, trying to remember when you’d last…fuck.

You hadn’t had your period in… so long. Almost two months.

No. No, no, no. This couldn’t be happening. It had to be some kind of fucked up joke. You felt light-headed as you reached for your car again, your body shaking so badly you could barely stand against the door.

"Shit."

How could you not have noticed?

Topper noticed the change in you instantly, his brow furrowing. "What’s wrong with you?" he asked, his tone softening a little. "You okay?"

You couldn’t even form a sentence. Your brain was too full of what-ifs. Two months late.

You hadn't even thought about it until now—everything had taken so much space in your head that you hadn't noticed the most obvious sign. This wasn’t possible. Your hand flew to your stomach, almost instinctively. You had no idea what to do with the panic creeping up your throat.

“Shit,” You hissed, this time louder, trying to push the growing dread down. But it wouldn't go away.

He was still staring at you, “What? What’s going on? You’re freaking me out.”

But you were already backing away, shaking your head.

“I—I need to go,” You mumbled, barely hearing yourself.

Your cousin moved quickly to block your path as you tried to make your way toward the door. That kind of protective streak only made you want to shove past him even more.

"You’re not driving in this state." he warned you, his hands up, trying to physically stop you.

You just glared at him, “Fucking watch me.”

He didn’t budge.

"You get in that car and I'm calling Rafe," he said, sounding dead serious.

You couldn’t believe it. Your head was already spinning, and he was trying to guilt-trip you like this was some kind of helpful thing to do?

You threw your hands up in frustration, voice rising, cracking.

"He’s too busy fucking Sofia. Knock yourself out."

The words felt like venom in your mouth, the bitterness rolling off your tongue. You didn’t care how harsh they sounded, you didn’t care about anything anymore except getting away from this suffocating stupid place.

Before he could say anything else, you made your move, pushing past him with all your strength, chest hurting with the urge to feel something other than this suffocating mess. Your hands shook as you fumbled for your keys, managing to unlock the door, sliding into the driver’s seat, the cool leather biting into your skin.

You needed to think. But all you could think about was that one, terrifying realization: you might be pregnant.

Your breath hitched, terror swirling around your chest. The calendar app was still open on your phone, the dates staring back at you like a flashing red warning sign, daring you to confront the truth you’d been ignoring. Two months. Two months without a period. And you hadn’t even noticed. You pressed a hand to your stomach again, heart pounding as if it was trying to escape your chest.

This couldn’t be happening. Not now. Not like this.

You weren’t thinking clearly—shit, you weren’t thinking at all, but you couldn’t stay here. Not with Topper trying to baby you, not with him out there, living his best life like you didn’t even exist.

You turned the key, the engine roaring to life, and just as you gripped the wheel, ready to peel out of the driveway, Topper bolted in front of the car, planting himself right there like some kind of human roadblock.

Fucking idiot.

His arms were stretched out wide, as if he could somehow stop you by sheer willpower.

“You’re not doing this, I swear to God, you’re not!” he yelled, his voice frantic, echoing off the dark street. He looked panicked, pleading even, like he was convinced you’d actually go through with it.

You gritted your teeth, eyes narrowing on him through the windshield.

“Top, I swear, you have three seconds before I run you over.”

“Are you serious right now?” he yelled, his voice cracking with disbelief. But he didn’t move. “You think I’m letting you drive like this? You’re out of your fuckin’ mind!”

Your fingers gripping the wheel so hard it hurt.

You weren’t bluffing, you were too wound up, too out of control. The only thing keeping you from flooring him was the fact that, deep down, you knew your cousin didn’t deserve it.

You just needed to get out of here.

“Move!” you screamed, “I’m not joking’, Topper. Get the fuck out of my way!”

His face twisted with frustration as he looked over his shoulder, something catching his attention. He started waving, yelling at someone, his voice cutting through the night.

“Rafe! Dude, get over here!”

Your brain stopped. It was like everything had been sucked out of you. Your hands froze on the wheel, your entire body locking up as you looked to your right and saw him—Rafe. Right there in the yard.

And she was with him. He had his arm draped around her casually.

As if he belonged there, just standing in the open, so stupidly comfortable in his new life. His head turned when he heard Topper call out, and your eyes locked for a less than a second.

A moment too long, amoment that broke something inside you.

While Topper was distracted, his attention on Rafe, you made your move. You slammed your foot on the gas, tires screeching as the car lurched forward, swerving just enough to dodge Topper’s stunned figure. You heard him yell after you, but his voice faded into the background noise as you sped away.

You didn’t look back. Not at Top, not at Rafe.

The only thing you could hear was the sound of your own heartbeat pounding in your ears, drowning out everything else. You hated this, hated that you were crying, that you’d let yourself get to this point.

“God, what is wrong with me?” you muttered, your voice quavering as the words tumbled out. “Why the fuck am I crying over him? I shouldn’t be crying over him.” You slammed your palm against the steering wheel, angry, disgusted with yourself.

You’d told yourself you were stronger than this—that after everything you’d been through, you didn’t need him or anyone else. But here you were, falling apart like some pathetic excuse of a mess because of him. Because he had always been there, hadn’t he? After the crash, after you lost everything, he was the one constant, the one person who kept you from completely losing it. You’d relied on him so much.

Too much.

“Fuck,” you hissed, tears streaming down your face. Your throat burned as the memories came flooding back, all the nights you’d spent together, him holding you while you cried yourself to sleep, of the way he’d pulled you out of the gloom when you thought you’d never get back up again. You thought he’d always be that person for you, the one who understood your broken pieces because he had his own.

You’d always fit together perfectly.

You pulled into the parking lot of the nearest drugstore, your hands still shaking as you put the car in park. The tears had dried up on the drive over, replaced by a cold determination. You didn’t want to be here. Didn’t want to even think about what you were about to do.

The moment you stepped out of your car and into the harsh fluorescent lighting of the drugstore, you felt completely out of place—like a stranger in your own skin. You hadn’t even thought about how ridiculous you must’ve looked until you caught your reflection in one of the store’s glass windows. Your hair, still perfect from earlier, framed your face in soft waves, and your makeup was flawless, despite the crying. The designer dress you were wearing—sleek, red, and worth more than half the shit in this store—with its sticky floors and white lights, it made you feel like an alien.

You didn’t belong here.

You caught the eyes of a couple of people loitering outside the entrance as you walked in, their stares lingering too long, murmuring to each other behind smirks. You knew they were talking about you.

They always did, kook queen, overdressed, out of touch, bitch, whatever they wanted to call you.

The sliding doors let out a grating beep as you entered, and the air inside was stale and heavy, reeking of floor cleaner and cheap perfume. You adjusted your grip on your purse, strutting past the aisles with your head high even though everything inside you felt like it was falling apart.

You always did this—dressed to kill, head up, like armor. But there was no real glamour in buying pregnancy tests from some random pharmacy in the middle of the night. No way to mask the deep, growing hysteria in your bones.

The girl behind the register clocked you the second you stepped up to the counter, her eyes dragging over your, she couldn’t quite believe what she was seeing. You could almost hear her thoughts: What the hell is someone like you doing here?

You didn’t bother looking at her, all you wanted was to pay for that shit and leave without a scene. But of course, people always found a way to make things worse. She hesitated before scanning the tests, looking like she might say something.

For her own good, you prayed she didn’t.

You threw the money on the counter before she could open her mouth, two crisp hundreds on top of the total. The cash hit the counter with a sharp thwap and you gave her the bitchiest look you could muster.

“Take it. Keep your fucking mouth shut.”

She swallowed hard, her hand trembling as she slid the bills into the register. You didn’t care that she was young or nervous. You weren’t here to make friends or for anyone’s sympathy. The extra money would make sure she didn’t talk, that was all that mattered.

You walked out, your heels clicking against the linoleum, head high, even though every nerve in your body screamed for you to disappear. You slid into your truck, slamming the door shut, the silence finally hitting you. For all the designer clothes, the makeup, the money—none of it meant shit right now.

You felt so small. So scared. Terribly lonely.

You sat there for what felt like forever, staring at the stupid bag in the passenger seat like it had the power to ruin your whole life—which, to be fair, it kind of did.

You didn’t know what the fuck you were going to do. Not about any of it. Your foot tapped nervously against the floor mat, the sound too loud in the quiet car. The bag crinkled as you glanced at it again, your stomach twisting all over again. A bunch of pregnancy tests.

How had it come to this?

Rafe. You squeezed your eyes shut, willing yourself not to think about him, not to picture his face when he found out. If he found out.

Shit, what the hell was he going to do? He was with Sofia now, right? So was this going to ruin his life too? Did he even deserve to know?

It was probably nothing, you told yourself. Maybe the separation anxiety had gotten to you. Your body was probably fucked up from all the stress. Perhaps your period was late because you’d been so all over the place lately. There could be a million reasons. You didn’t even want to think about what would happen if it wasn’t nothing.

You didn’t want to cry anymore, not after all of this, especially not over Rafe or your life turning into some fucking soap opera you didn’t even want to be a part of.

The second you were inside your house, the walls closed in around you. Your perfectly decorated place—the one you’d spent so much time making into a refuge, an escape—it didn’t feel like that anymore. Every designer pillow, every carefully chosen piece of art, mocking you. Your phone buzzed in your bag, you reached for it.

Of course, it was Rafe.

“I don’t know what the fuck that was but save the fucking dramatics, okay?”

The nerve.

The fucking nerve of him to act like he was the center of your universe, acting like you were some inconvenience.

Months of silence and this was the first thing he decided to text you? Knowing how much you despised when people called you a drama queen? Fucking piece of shit. Your fingers hovered over the screen, a thousand different responses running through your mind.

You wanted to tell him to shove something up his ass, but instead, you did the only thing that felt right in that moment.

You blocked him.

You stared at your phone, half expecting it to buzz again, half dreading that it wouldn’t. It was done. You cut him off, at least in that tiny, virtual way. You sat there for a minute, gripping the phone, trying to remember how to breathe.

This was supposed to feel empowering, right? You told yourself it would, cutting him out would help you get back some control. But your mind wouldn’t settle.

Those damn pregnancy tests were sitting in the bag next to you.

You were tired.

Exhausted in a way that had nothing to do with how late it was or how emotionally spent you were. You kicked off your heels, letting them clatter against the hardwood floor as you sank into the plush couch. Your house felt cold and unwelcoming tonight, no comfort to be found.

Not here, not in the muted tones of beige and white or in the sleek lines of furniture that were supposed to exude elegance and sophistication.

Maybe tomorrow you’d feel differently.

You'd wake up with a clear head, ready to take the stupid tests, you’d be strong again like you’d been so many times before.

Tonight, you were just tired.

You leaned back against the cushions, closing your eyes for a moment, willing the noise in your head to quiet down. Sleep.

That’s what you needed, a few hours to clear your mind, and in the morning, you’d deal with everything.

All of this would go away.

TAGLIST: @maybankslover @october-baby25 @haruvalentine4321 @hopelesslydevoted2paige @rafebb

@rafesbbyy @whytheylosttheirminds @astarlights @bruher @nosebeers @carrerascameron @serrendiipty @sunny1616

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@stoned-writer @justafangirls-blog-deactivated2 @starkeygirlposts @enjoymyloves @ijustwanttoreadlols

@icaqttt

[yanderenightmare]

♡ TW: nsfw, rough sex, choking, expensive sex worker!reader, sorta toxic relationship, age-gap

♡ FEM reader

Thinking about the ruthless kingpin, owner of the city's most high-end escort business…

The one who took you in when you were still only a sorry street wretch—a child who fought with rocks over scraps before he taught you women didn’t need to draw blood in order to win.

Oh, and he taught you well... How you could make fools out of men, but never of him, with only a weaponized look in your eye.

You were a fast learner, too. The type of fast you only see in people who enjoy what they’re learning. You had fun slipping on those tiny dresses and heels, going out prowling for filthy rich men you could make your happy victims. You’d come away with their money and their thanks and seemed to bask in every second of it.

Back then, you were hungry. But too soon, it became too easy, and too soon, you realized money was a dull thing that would quicker leave you feeling sick to your overfull stomach than satisfied. 

You used to think you could buy a house and call it home, but you’ve since learned it doesn’t work that way. 

So you always come back to him. Home-sick little thing that you are.

You wear his shirt and coy eyes, crawling into his lap, daring him to fuck you now that you’ve made yourself so priceless.

“Think you can still afford me, old man?” you ask, looking at him through that sly smile he taught you to perfection so many years ago.

“Brazen,” he scoffs. “But coming crawling back here with your tail tucked between your legs isn’t exactly a good sales pitch, little girl.” 

Sighing, he acts as if he isn’t interested—and by god, how you missed getting played with like that. 

“I thought I taught you better than to show people what a wretched street cat you used to be, and yet here you are, begging me for the same scraps.”

You moan with aggression, a gleeful smile splitting your painted lips, looking at him with a twinkle in your eyes whilst purring, “Mmh, how I missed your dirty talk. Nothing gets me wetter than watching you deny how you don’t wish you’d collared me when you still had the chance.” 

He scoffs then, half-mast eyes watching as you unhurriedly unbuckle his belt for him. In his lap like a loyal pet. “Why would I put in the effort when you come back to me so willingly?”

“You trust me that much? That while you take your afternoon nap, I won’t find myself someone else to entertain me.” Your smile doesn’t waver, nor do your hands, and how they work oh-so-painfully slow at unbuttoning him, taking your sweet time, baiting him both with your actions and with your words. “I mean, you’re getting on in your years... I’m not sure how much longer you can keep up.”

That does it, of course. Older than you or not, he’s got the strength of a bull and the stamina of one who’s seen red, grabbing you by the fat of your ass as he springs up and strides to the bed where he all but tosses you down.

You only giggle and receive him, ready for your punishment like a convict pleading guilty. Feeling the same type of urgency take you when he bears over you, you rush to unbutton his shirt, attacking each other with tongue and teeth.

He tugs you close by the hips and doesn’t wait for any word of consent before filling you up.

Your eyes roll back, digging your painted nails into the muscles of his back and locking your legs behind him, thinking it feels nothing short of homecoming the way he stakes his claim as if he owns you.

“Playing games even when you know you’re mine,” he growls against your lips, his fist finding its way around your throat, squeezing tight. “Say it.” 

He owns you. He made you. Sculpted you with his bare fucking hands. You’ll never escape him. And you know it, so you should admit it with your chest. You’re his. No matter how many others you may go out hunting at night, you’ll always come back to your owner to present the kill. So be honest. His grip on your throat tightens. He owns you. 

“Say it.”

“I love you.”

All movement stills—breaths and all—hanging poised in the air as if stuck in the suspension. His heart flinches within his chest, rifts with hope so brutal it’s reminiscent of terror.

It hadn’t been what he’d expected to hear, nor was he aware he’d even wanted to hear it, and still, even now, he’s a little unsure as this feeling within is something he’s never before felt but always dreaded, and yet here you are, taking him by surprise.

You’re betraying the game the two of you’ve been playing. Throwing the knife away and asking him if he won’t do the same. But you’re not supposed to do such silly things. You’re supposed to have more pride than that. You’re supposed to be fangs and all, not soft-spoken confessions and those big eyes full of raw hope that bring him to his knees. Oh no, what have you done?

“Then marry me.”

Oh no, what have you made him do?

♡ BNHA – Bakugou, Enji, Aizawa, Overhaul ♡ JJK – Sukuna, Nanami, Geto, Naoya, Toji ♡ BLLK – Aiku ♡ AOT – Zeke

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist