#had something involving dogs come up in my life

[plushietoon]

...Do you think Shadow the WarioWare dog is neutered?

[denwritesandcries]

Dating Tara having a scary dog HCs

Pairing: tara carpenter x fem!reader

Summary: You didn’t expect your girlfriend to act like that around your dog, but it's still pretty funny though.

Word count: 1,4k.

Content: cursing, fluff, tara being dramatic and a caos gremlin, author never had a dog, mentions of scream V.

Note: Still don't think I'm really good at hcs but I had fun writing these!

English is not my first language.

- Tara could admit that she didn’t know much about you when you first started to go out, which probably would have caused Sam to have a meltdown if she’d found out about it, but, well, making impulsive decisions was her specialty.

- One of the things Tara had come to learn about you — details, mere details — was that you had a dog, after hearing you mention it once or twice.

- Tara, who had never had a pet before, was immediately excited with the prospect of meeting and having one in her life, wondering what it would be like.

- You hadn’t shown her any pictures, and on your Instagram there were a surprising amount of different dogs for her to be sure which one was yours, so Tara tried to guess. Would it be a puppy, happy and gangly? Or even an older, relaxed and well-behaved one, a childhood dog maybe? Would make a good cuddle buddy.

(Whichever one it was, she hoped it to be a short-haired; her asthma and allergies would be very grateful.)

- What she hadn’t imagined, however, was to come across her girlfriend smiling and waving brightly, with a damn hound on a leash on what should have been a perfectly romantic and uneventful date.

“What is that?”

“Hi, baby!” you greet, oblivious to her incredulous and apprehensive tone, “That’s Cujo.”

“Cujo,” she echoed, hesitantly, “Like… the rabid, murderous dog from the movie?”

“No, not the movie, the book,” you corrected. “Don’t worry, Tar, she’s a sweetie.”

“Your Cerberus is a she?”

“It’s just a doberman, babe.”

Great.

- Tara’s definitely scared of your dog at first, but she won't admit it. She's faced crazy killers before, for God's sake! A little pet was nothing.

- You know she's scared from the start. It's honestly kind of funny how she tries to act all brave, especially since you know Cujo wouldn't hurt a fly if she could (and she could), so you do your best to make her relax.

- Trying to get her used to it at first by asking if she'd like to hold the leash on walks, even though she always refuses it, “If it decides to start running I might get dragged across town until I fall down some drain. Would you dare do that to your poor asthmatic girlfriend?”

- Trying to avoid situations where your dog is involved doesn't work for long, though, it lives with you, after all – duh, Tara, really? – and your house is the only place you two can have some privacy without Sam hovering like a hawk all the time, so she has to get over it, like, urgently.

She stops you at the door the first time she comes over:

“So, is there any more… unexpected pets I should know about?”

You shrug, “I have some sea monkeys too.”

- She’s completely dramatic about it at first, as she always is when things don’t go her way. But it’s endearing, and it’s one of the reasons you fell in love with her anyway.

- So… Tara, who has staring contests with your dog every time she comes over for the night or to just hang out, because she can’t stop squinting suspiciously every time she gets too close to the furry form you idolize so much.

- Tara, who gets upset and sullen when you’re gonna cuddle and the dog is faster, taking up your entire lap, the place she should be.

“You can just lay or rest on her, baby, I swear she won't bite.”

“No freaking way! Here, just hold me closer.”

Well, she swears that your dog would have laughed at her if she could.

- Tara, who's sure your dog has something against her and chases her around for the pure pleasure of it, no matter how much you argue about projecting, dark eyes making her jump in fright whenever they're in the same room.

- Tara, who huffs and whines when you go to sleep and the dog follows you, sprawling at your feet in the bed like she's its owner.

“Oh man, even here?”

“Tar, she's sleeping. It's a dog, it's not planning something against you.”

“She's threatening me on purpose!”

“She probably knows that you dislike her, you know, it's pretty obvious.”

“Whatever, I'm not apologizing to a dog.”

- Tara, who actually finds it pretty comfortable sleeping next to the furball, who keeps the bed less lonely and stops the heat from escaping when you get up early to make breakfast.

- Tara, who warms up and attaches quickly afterward, even if she doesn't want to admit it out of sheer stubbornness.

“Awn, I see you guys are getting along. You're petting her now! That’s so great, honey!”

“I'm not! I'm just checking to make sure she didn't bring any dirt from the park earlier.”

- Tara, who turns into an absolute menace once she and your dog bond and you honestly don't know if that's a good thing or not, but it's chaotic anyway.

- Tara, who struts around, holding on to the leash to save her life and still managing to look completely smug like a damn small gangster, laughing at those who stray from their path or get scared by the sudden barking.

“Ha, look at them! Scared of such a little pup, losers.”

“If she ever gets up she'd be literally bigger than you, Tar,” you sigh, “And you acted just like them too.”

“Liar! All lies!”

- Tara, who spends her money on thousands of clothes and accessories that she thinks would look good on the dog, even though your pet already has a lot. Most of them are silly costumes from movies she likes, and one day you come home to find your dog on the couch wearing a cheap Michael Myers costume and you can barely breathe from laughing when she comes running up to greet you by the door.

- You definitely notice your dog wearing a big colorful bow that conveniently matches your girlfriend’s shirt and teases her shamelessly. All you get is a ‘she looks like a princess, leave her be!’

- She calls the dog by cute pet names and talks in a baby voice – which she denies to death – when she thinks no one is listening. Sometimes you even get confused about who the ‘hi baby!’ is for when she walks through the room.

- You're a little jealous when she prefers to snuggle with your dog instead of you, but you end up finding it so adorable that the problem is solved by cuddling them both together and that way everyone’s happy and content.

- Sam almost has a heart attack the first time she sees Tara with the dog, as do Chad and Ethan; Mindy’s a little hesitant and Anika’s the only one genuinely excited and happy about everything, wanting to pet it as soon as she sees her lying on the carpet.

- With that, Tara also defends your dog from anyone who dares to open their mouth and say something bad about her, whether they're your friends or the Karens you meet when you're out together (you have to stop her from throwing hands with them occasionally).

- Teaches the dog to purposely bark to scare Ethan every time he says something stupid and inappropriate and you're left wondering when the hell she had time to do that without you knowing, completely ignoring your claims of 'being a bad influence.'

- Protects the dog from absolutely any of your scolding, no matter what the reason, dramatically covering its ears and looking personally offended by your complaints. You can never stay mad for long with the sight of your girlfriend trying to cover up a dog who's clearly more intimidating than her and literal puppy eyes staring at you with intensity, letting go even if your couch or plants have been destroyed.

- You end up with a happy little family before you finish college without even realizing it, which ends up being the best thing that ever happened to you.

- Tara's favorite part of all of this is the slow and warm mornings when you two don't have to be anywhere and can sleep in, feeling your arm around her waist and your dog curled up between you – under the covers too because it got cold during the night – when she can sigh contentedly and enjoy what you have without any more fears about the future.

“You know, remembering how scared you were of Cujo in the beginning, I never would have expected it to end up like this.”

“That name still doesn't fit,” she says stubbornly, “And I’ve never been scared of our dog, I just wasn’t a pet person.”

“Our dog?”

“Oh, shut it.”

She would never admit it anyway.

- Tara could admit, though, that you were right: your dog really is a sweetie.

[your-local-simp-writers]

Puppy Love

Word Count: 1552

Warnings: None

Damian Wayne x Fem!Reader ︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

It was a typical day after school, one of those rare moments when Damian Wayne wasn’t caught up in some sort of mission or training. The clock ticked loudly in the classroom as you stared at your class partner. Damian was sitting at his desk, meticulously packing up his things, his movements precise, as always. He had a habit of folding his papers just so, making sure everything was in perfect order before leaving. It was almost funny how much effort he put into something so mundane.

You tapped your pen on the desk, your mind bouncing with energy, as it always did. You had an idea, a crazy, spontaneous idea. The kind of idea you always had, but this time, you had to share it with him.

"Damian," you said brightly, leaning across the desk just enough to catch his attention. He glanced up, his dark eyes narrowing slightly as if preparing himself for whatever your next move was. You grinned, already knowing what he was thinking. ��Do you want to go to the fair?”

His brow furrowed. “The fair?” he repeated, clearly skeptical. “I’m not sure how that could be beneficial to anything.”

You waved a hand, dismissing his doubts. “It’s just a bit of fun. You know, something different. Besides, you can’t always be training or brooding, right?”

Damian looked at you for a long moment, then sighed dramatically, an exaggerated gesture you’d gotten used to. “I don’t see the point in such... frivolity,” he said, though there was an edge of curiosity beneath the words.

You didn’t give him time to think about it. You knew he would overanalyze it otherwise. “Come on, just for a little while. You could use some downtime, and it’s not like Gotham doesn’t need a break from your endless seriousness. You’re my class partner, right? It’s just a few hours of normal fun. You’ve done worse, I promise.”

You could see the inner conflict playing out in his eyes—the part of him that was trained to be a warrior, never wasting a moment, battling with the part that was slowly learning to open up to new experiences. Finally, after a long pause, he nodded reluctantly. “Fine. I will accompany you to this... ‘fair,’” he said, his voice still laced with skepticism.

...

The fair was a short drive outside of Gotham, tucked away just beyond the noise and chaos of the city. You could tell the difference immediately, as soon as the car tires left the paved roads and hit the dirt paths leading to the fairgrounds. There was a certain charm to the place, something rustic and simple, so different from the bustling streets of Gotham or the towering Wayne mansion.

The sun was setting, casting a soft orange glow over the rows of booths, food carts, and brightly colored rides. The scent of hot dogs, popcorn, and cotton candy filled the air, and the sounds of laughter and music echoed around the fairground. It was the kind of place where people went to escape from the grind of daily life, to enjoy the fleeting moments of joy that came with a simple carnival game or a ride on the Ferris wheel.

You could see Damian’s unease as you both walked toward the entrance. His eyes darted around, taking in the overwhelming sights, sounds, and people. It wasn’t quite the same as the controlled environment he was used to. But you didn’t give him time to overthink it. You grabbed his arm, pulling him toward one of the booths.

“You’re going to love the ring toss,” you said with a grin, all too eager to get him involved.

“Ring toss?” he repeated, the skepticism still clear in his voice. “What purpose does this serve?”

“It’s fun,” you insisted, though you knew he wasn’t convinced. Still, you managed to drag him over to the booth. The game was simple enough—throw rings over bottles. It was a childish game, but you loved it, and you hoped Damian would catch on to the idea of letting go, even if just for a moment.

He stood with his arms crossed, watching you carefully. "You really think I can waste my time on this?"

You gave him a sidelong glance and a teasing smile. "Well, it’s not about wasting time. It’s about... I don’t know, enjoying the moment."

He didn’t look at you, but he did take a few rings and line them up, aiming carefully. You grinned to yourself. Even when he was trying to act all serious, his precision couldn’t be denied.

With a flick of his wrist, one of the rings flew through the air, landing perfectly on a bottle. You raised your eyebrows, impressed.

“Nice,” you said. “You’re better at this than you let on.”

Damian didn’t respond, his eyes narrowing as he picked up another ring. “I don’t do things halfheartedly,” he muttered, almost to himself. “If I’m going to do something, I do it properly.”

You watched him, a strange warmth spreading in your chest. The boy was so driven, so serious, yet you couldn’t help but admire his determination. It was rare for him to let his guard down, and even rarer for him to admit that something could be fun.

Soon enough, you had won a small stuffed bear, and Damian had reluctantly agreed to take it from you. You held it to your chest, practically skipping to the next attraction.

“What now?” he asked, clearly still unsure.

"Let’s ride the Ferris wheel," you said, already making your way toward the line.

He didn’t protest, which surprised you. Damian was a creature of habit and control. He liked to know what was coming next, not to be thrown into something unfamiliar. But here he was, following you as you led him toward the towering wheel. It was slow-moving and simple, but you could tell the height of the ride was making him a little uneasy.

Once you were both in your seat, the Ferris wheel creaked to life. The world below you began to shrink, the lights of the fair twinkling in the distance, and the sky above grew dark as the stars started to emerge, one by one. You glanced over at Damian, who was staring out at the lights, his face unreadable.

“You know, it’s nice up here,” you said softly, breaking the silence. “Don’t you ever just sit outside and stare at the stars? It’s so peaceful.”

Damian turned his head toward you, his expression stiff. “I prefer to watch... other things,” he said, his tone flat, almost as though he hadn’t really considered the question. “While I’m at it, I watch the bumper-to-bumper traffic and listen to the sounds of car horns and sirens.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head at his dry sarcasm. “That is exactly why I like to be in the middle of nowhere. No traffic, no sirens, no deadlines. Just peace.”

Damian looked at you, the barest hint of amusement flickering across his face. “Peace,” he echoed, then gave a short huff. “I don’t know that I would describe Gotham as anything remotely peaceful.”

“Well, I’ll take peaceful over chaotic any day,” you said, your eyes drifting back to the sky, the colors of the fireworks beginning to light up the air. You handed him a stick of cotton candy, offering it with a teasing grin. “Besides, I think you could use a little fun, Damian. Maybe the world won’t end if you just enjoy the moment.”

He hesitated, eyeing the fluffy treat in your hand before taking a cautious bite. His eyes flickered back to you, his voice quieter this time. “Fun. I’m not sure I remember what that feels like.”

You blinked, surprised at the admission. For a moment, you didn’t know how to respond. You were so used to seeing Damian with his walls up, his rigid control always in place, that hearing him admit something so vulnerable took you off guard.

“Well, maybe now’s a good time to start remembering,” you said, your voice soft. “There’s a lot more to life than training and working.”

Damian didn’t answer, but he didn’t pull away either. Instead, he continued to chew his cotton candy in silence, staring out at the fireworks. You could tell, even without the words, that he was beginning to relax, if only for a moment.

The rest of the ride passed in a comfortable silence, the fireworks exploding around you in bursts of color. It was a strange thing, this peacefulness, and you couldn’t help but smile as you watched Damian begin to melt into the experience. For once, he wasn’t the brooding, serious heir to Wayne Enterprises. For once, he was just a boy—your class partner, Damian—enjoying the simple joy of a fair.

As the ride finally came to a stop and you both made your way back to solid ground, you felt a strange warmth between you both, something unspoken but real. You hadn’t just taken him to a fair—you’d taken him to a moment where he could simply be Damian, and for the first time, he seemed to appreciate it.

“Not so bad, huh?” you teased as you walked side by side.

Damian glanced at you, the slightest smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Perhaps... just this once.”

[vaspider]

Last year I wrote about what happened at Pride when a couple of kids didn't understand why us older folx were so bitter about Reagan.

This year, I have something a little softer.

Someone who looked a little older than me came up to the booth wearing a pink t-shirt proclaiming him one of the Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence, San Francisco chapter. As I was ringing him up, I asked if he'd been involved for a while.

"Yes," he said, "for a bit," in that way us middle-aged people do when we're sort of wincing and feeling old.

"Okay, well," I said, sitting at my register in my queer booth full of queer clothes and patches and pins, topless in public for the first time. (I had pasties on for my own comfort bc I was working, but I live in the city of the Naked Bike Ride, and I took full advantage). My baby brother and both of my partners ran around behind me, my brother wearing a loose tank top that makes his scars visible.

"I need to tell you that you all helped keep me alive."

He blinked at me as I continued, "I was a kid in high school in the early 90s. I lived in the middle of nowhere in Pennsylvania, and what you all were doing was so loud and so out there that even I heard about your work. It was one of the things that kept me alive. So thank you, and please thank the rest of the Sisters."

I heard about them through people in my parents' church complaining about them, and then I sought more information through the beginning of the internet, through newspapers, through anything I could find. I found the cover of Newsweek that one of the Sisters was on. I read about their "exorcism" of fundamentalist preachers whose books sat on the shelf in my parents' basement and probably still do. I saw how loud and colorful and unapologetically queer they were.

The knowledge that someone was out there, so full of defiant joy, refusing the shame that people kept trying to put on them? Oh, that kept me alive. I saw them, and I knew I could make it through. I wrapped my hands around that knowledge, and I held on so tight.

It took me a long time - a long, long time - to unwind most of it for myself and get to the point where my fat butch ass was sitting bare-chested in the July breeze, looking up at him as he held out his arms and said "you're actually giving me chills." I answered, "I mean every word. You helped keep me alive. So thank you."

I never know what to say when people come up to me in public and tell me that I helped them or changed their life in some way. I appreciate it, and I genuinely love the people who apologized for "fanpersoning" at me last weekend, I just never know what to say. I'm incredibly grateful that the Sister I spoke to was incredibly gracious, saying "usually we give blessings, but I feel like you blessed me." Another member of the party let me pet their tiny dog, who was not very interested in me, and that's okay. It was an overwhelming day. Then, they moved on.

Me? I'm still sitting with the fact that I looked last weekend into the faces of people who didn't know they were holding my head above water, and that I got to tell them the work they do matters. It's a rare thing to get to tell someone, "You saved me," and I'm treasuring it.

Last weekend, I wore my new battle vest with nothing underneath it, unless it was too hot, and then I just sat in my chair, chatting and ringing ppl out with my skin free to the air. I decided last year that top surgery isn't for me, but that also I'm going to love this body unapologetically, and it's no less a transmasculine body because the soft new dark hair on my belly isn't accompanied by pink scars along my ribs.

I didn't get here on my own. I got here because someone else cut through the undergrowth ahead of me so I could take another step forward. Here I am, decades later, still taking step after step, one at a time, and trying to lay paving stones behind me.

Last weekend was another step along that way, another step through unwinding the fear and shame and sadness that my parents and their church built into me. Another step out of hating myself for hiding parts of myself for so long, for acting out in other ways to distract people from my queerness, for feeling so much guilt when other people tell me I'm brave, because I know how much of myself I hid for how long because I was a coward, because I was afraid.

Another step into expiating stigmatic guilt.

[fictionismyreality3]

Jealousy is my Best Friend (18+)

Jason Todd x Reader

Tags: Smut, jealous!jason todd, protective!jason todd, possessive!jason todd

Warnings: romance and everything that comes with it, penetrating sex, hair pulling, choking, spanking, sir kink

Notes: am I.. a whore? MaByE🤪 I would certainly let Jay do anything mentioned in this oneshot 🫣and OMG ANGry SeX

When you got invited to the Wayne Christmas Party you knew Jason would be livid.

It was almost a year since you’d been together and you grew to know him inside and out. Once you got past the edgy, broody and overly aggressive personality, he really was a sweet guy. But he got jealous.

Really jealous.

Since you had moved in with Jason a few months ago, you had gotten to see his more possessive side almost 24/7. He was rarely ever out of touching distance, always keeping a hand on you, especially if you had company over. The few times you met his brothers, he was practically acting like a viscous guard dog.

That’s why you knew he wouldn’t be happy that Bruce had invited you without him knowing. But, in defence of Gotham’s Dark Knight, everyone knew that Jason didn’t want you involved with his family.

So, obviously you accepted the invitation.

Yes, you knew he would be mad when he found out and when you insisted on going, but you wanted to be a part of all aspects of his life.

So, here you were. Standing in the living room of your apartment, all dressed up and ready to go, with Jason sitting fuming on the couch.

“You’re not going.” He murmured.

“Why? Do you know how bitchy I would seem I didn’t show up?” You said exasperated.

Jason ran a hand through his hair in frustration, letting out a long sigh as his eyes drifted up and down your outfit again.

“You’re not going in that.”

You were reaching the end of your rope. You had been arguing with Jason for the better part of half an hour and he hadn’t budged. The dress you had picked out for the party was one of the few times you let yourself splurge. You looked hot. You knew you looked hot and Jason knew it too. That’s why it was so impossible for him to sit with the fact that other men would be seeing you.

Jason’s eyes roamed your body again. The red fabric of the dress hugged your hips, making him want to reach out and grab you. His colour. He knew you chose that dress just to get him worked up and he loved how well it was working.

Not knowing who was going to be looking at you was utterly infuriating, even more so since he knew exactly what they would be thinking. A gorgeous girl like you? Fuck, if he wasn’t already with you he’d be eye fucking you along with the rest of them. Not that he wasn’t already.

“Are you even listening, Jay?”

Your voice broke him out of his lusting thoughts and he felt the sour pang of jealousy creep to the forefront of his mind once more.

“I’m not gonna waste this dress! Do you know how much I spent-”

“Shut… christ, shut your pretty little mouth and let me talk for one fucking second.” He growled.

Your mouth hung open, floundering for a second before it closed. Jason’s fists were clenching and unclenching. You watched that vein that only popped out when he was angry beginning to pulse with blood. His head was in his hands as he ran his hands through his hair.

With a predatory speed, his head raised and his gaze snapped to yours. His eyes pulsed green.

Before you could figure out what was happening he was striding across the room and pinning you against the wall, his hands on either side of your head.

“Jay, I didn’t-” You tried.

The rest of your pleading sentence was cut short as Jason’s hand slipped from the wall to wrap around your throat, squeezing slightly. He really wished you would just be quiet. Every time you opened your mouth he just wanted to fill it with something other than words.

“Do you know..” he inhaled sharply, “how fucking hard it is to let people seen even an inch of your skin?”

“I can-” You began to say, but Jason’s grip on your throat tightened and the words stopped at your lips.

“Stop. Talking.” His jaw ticked.

With a tortured sigh, he dipped his head down to the crook of your neck, his breath tickling your skin. He was utterly enraptured by you, and the thought of anyone else having you made his skin crawl.

“You’re not going to the party.” He said, his voice a little softer as he placed a gentle kiss to your neck.

“Jay, please. I need to meet your family.” You protested.

Your continued pleading was interrupted by your phone ringing where you had put it on the kitchen counter. Squinting your eyes, you just made out the caller ID. Dick Grayson. Thinking he could talk some sense into Jason, you used the distraction of the noise to break from his hold and run to the kitchen.

Grabbing the phone, you answered as quickly as you could. But, before you could get a word out, Jason snatched it right out of your hand.

“We’re not coming.” He said darkly, and hung up before Dick could say a word.

Okay, now you were fucked.

You took a step back and retreated all the way into the kitchen until the back of your legs hit the counter.

The taste of jealousy Jason had tried to push down was rearing its ugly head more than ever. Of all people, you were going to get his brother to help? He was fine when strangers tried something with you, he could always break a few arms. But his brother? Fuck no.

Jason prowled towards you. The sound of each step on the kitchen tile reverberated through your bones. He consumed your field of vision as he trapped you between him and the kitchen counter. You bit your lip, knowing better than to say anything. You knew that you had earned a rough punishment.

He closed his eyes, trying to keep a lid on his temper, and took a deep, shuddering breath.

He kissed your forehead.

“Knees.”

Your legs clenched together as a rush of heat flooded your core. The dark eyes of your boyfriend looked at you expectantly, and it was all you could do not to melt on the spot. Not wanting to earn a harsher punishment, you lowered yourself to the floor.

Jason’s eyes drifted to where your skin met the hard tile. He took off his suit jacket and bent down to put it underneath your knees. The only marks on your skin would be from him.

Your heart swooned at his actions. Even though he was gonna fuck you silly, he was still treating you like a princess.

“What should I do with you, huh?” His fingers found your chin and he tilted your head up to look at him.

Seeing those pretty doe eyes of yours staring up at him was almost enough to make him cum in his pants.

“Should I fuck your bratty mouth?” He said condescendingly sweet. Your head was swimming as your panties pooled with desire. You loved how he reduced you to a speechless mess with just a few words.

“Answer me, sweetheart.” He rasped.

“Yes, please Jay.” You whined.

Your begging was only met with a sharp tug of your hair, and you realized your mistake.

“Sir! Yes please, sir.” You corrected quickly.

That was more like it. Jason smiled down at you proudly, almost smug with the way you went from angry to eager for his cock. With torturously slow movements, he undid his belt and placed it on the counter beside him. He usually liked to please you first, but he was too riled up to go slow.

His hand came to hold your face, his thumb stroking your cheek as he undid the zipper of his pants. Most of the times he made you take him out, but he didn’t want to look away from your pretty eyes.

Even if you wanted to move, you couldn’t with the way he was holding you. The head of his cock brushed against your lips, and he finally let go of your chin.

“Show me how sorry you are, baby.” He said lowly.

Your previous anger had evaporated into a haze of desire, and you greedily took him into your mouth, earning a deep groan from Jason. One of his hands threaded into your hair as it had done a hundred times before, and you twirled your tongue around the head of his cock.

The familiar heat of desire thrummed through your veins, and with each lick you felt your pussy dripping with arousal. Jason murmured praises under his breath, his quiet groans filling the room.

God, he loved your mouth.

So hot and wet. Perfectly skilled at drawing all sorts of noises he didn’t know he could make from his lips. And your hands were even better. As soon as you started to roll his balls in your hand, his head tipped back in ecstasy.

“Dirty girl.” He gasped out.

Seeing how much you affected him filled your heart with pride, but before you could make a bratty comment, he had both hands in your hair and was pushing his cock to the back of your mouth.

You gagged instinctively, and your hands shot out to his thighs, pushing weakly against him. You moaned around his cock, only making him press himself deeper in your mouth until your nose touched his pubic bone.

“Oh, fuck baby.. just a-” His cock pulsed, heavy in your mouth. “Just a little more.”

Tears pricked at the corner of your eyes and your pussy clenched on nothing. God, he loved making you cry on his cock. He barely held back his orgasm as your little hands started to hit against his legs.

“Oh.. okay. Shit, princess you’re so.. whiny.” He mummers.

You try your best to take all of him down your throat, but he’s so big that it makes it hard to breathe. Wanting to please him seemed to be the only thought in your head as your core burned with the anticipation of the pleasure you would receive in return.

You sucked hard once, then twice, and had him gasping. Taking his cock from your mouth, he pulled you up from the floor.

“You want this cock so bad you have to be fucking brat?” He growled as he bent you over the counter top.

The cool air suddenly rushed across your skin as he ripped your dress off, throwing it to the floor without care. You were left bare apart from your bra and panties, which were red to match your dress.

“That was expensive..” You complained.

“I’ll buy you another one.” He said as he kept you pinned to the counter with a hand on your back.

And you knew he would.

He loved seeing you like this. Bent over, legs spread, your pussy dripping so much your panties already had a dark patch. Your red panties. His colour on his girl. He took a breath in through his nose, his hips jutting forwards and brushing against your clit.

“Jay-” A swift spank had your ass blooming with stinging pain.

“Sir! Sir, sir, sir.. M’sorry.. please, sir.. please.” You whined, repeating the title over and over again.

Jason got to his knees, pushing your legs apart, and pulled your panties down, throwing them with your discarded dress. His hands ran up and down your legs, the calloused skin of his palms making you shudder with impatience. Sensing your desperation, he decided to take mercy on you. You had been a good girl so far.

Without warning, he licked from your clit to leaking slit, moaning at the sweet taste his girl on his tongue. He could eat you for days and never need to come up for air.

“So needy..” He whispered, the air from his words brushing your clit and making you whine.

With one hand on the back of your thigh, and the other on your ass, he began to eat you from behind. His movements were aggressive like him, and he licked and sucked you without abandon. He had your hands flailing against the countertop, only to find nothing to hold on to.

He felt your thighs shaking where they were around his head, and pushed two fingers inside. You cried out in pleasure, your eyes squeezing shut as he curled his fingers to hit that perfect spot over and over and over and-

“Don’t you dare fucking cum.” He hissed, his words muffled by your cunt.

Strings of moans and high pitched mewls fell from your throat as Jason worked you up to the edge, only to pull his fingers out or take his tongue off your clit. You couldn’t even lift your head anymore, your mind too dizzy with pleasure as he pumped his fingers into you.

“I’m gonna.. need to.. oh, pl-please-” You words came out choked when when Jason suddenly added a third finger, stretching you out.

“You gonna be a good girl for me?” He said pulling his head back, leaving you missing his tongue.

“Y-yes..” You mewl breathlessly.

Jason hummed in consideration, his fingers slowing down almost to a stop. You felt painfully empty as he pulled his fingers out of your needy pussy, your walls squeezing around air. Jason stood up, still behind you, and leaned down. His chest pressed against your back and all of your senses were consumed by his weight on top of you.

“Who gets to touch this perfect little pussy?” He whispered into your ear.

“You, sir.” You gasped.

“Hm.. and who gets to decide if you get to cum?”

“You, sir..” You words came out breathy.

“Good fucking girl.” Jason rasped.

Far too soon his weight was off of you, but your mind was quickly calmed as you felt the tip of his cock rubbing up and down your entrance. You sighed out in bliss, your mind running through all the other times he had you screaming.

“Gonna take me real good, huh?” He muttered and slammed his cock into you without a moments notice.

Your mouth fell open in a silent cry. Tears pooled in your eyes as your breath caught in your throat.

You were so full.

Everything about Jason was large, including his cock, and you felt like you were fucking him for the first time all over again. You could never get used to his size.

After letting you adjust for a moment, ever the gentlemen even when blowing your back out, he began to lazily roll his hips into you.

The teasingly slow pace was incomprehensibly difficult for Jason to maintain. As soon as he was inside of you it took every ounce of willpower to resist fucking you so hard that your brains leaked out of your pussy.

But he wanted to see you fall apart even more.

You whimpered and whined, making such pretty noises for him. His large hands gripped your waist easily, allowing him to prevent you from getting greedy and bouncing back on his cock.

“Oh g-god please.. I can’t handle it..” You said in what felt like part moan, part sob.

Jason stilled his movements and you thought you might cry, but then he tangled a hand in your hair and pulled you up so your back was flush against his chest.

“Who owns you, princess?” He said as he wrapped his hand around your throat.

“You do, Jason.” You mewled.

“That’s fucking right, baby. Good girl.” You could practically hear the smirk in his voice.

And before you could ask he was already bending you back over, your chest against the cool marble countertop as he began to pound into you relentlessly.

You cried out at the sudden roughness, your walls clenching around his cock, earning a strangled moan from Jason. If it wasn’t for the hand he had on the back of your neck, you would have been pitching forward with each thrust. Your hands shot out to press against the white tile backsplash, needing something to ground you. Every time he pumped into you the tip of his cock would brush against your cervix, the delicious pang of being full of Jason had you screaming.

“You’re okay. You can- oh fuck..” He gasped out as your pussy tightened around him. “You can take it, pretty girl.”

He rasped out the reassurance, but he didn’t know how much longer he could stop himself from cumming. Every time he fucked you he only got more hooked on your body. The sounds you made, the noises and little breathy whimpers always had him harder than he thought was possible.

And you really were doing so well.

He knew he had been rough with you, but when your sweet little cunt was so fucking tight around him, how was he supposed to go slow? With every thrust he watched your eyes roll further back into your head. It felt like he was molding you from the inside out. Shaping you to fit with him and only him.

All you could do was lay there and take it. Tears had begun to fall down your cheeks, and Jason reached down to brush them away.

“You.. jesus christ, you’re mine, sweetheart.” He gasped out.

You nodded, your wanton moaning answer enough. You looked over your shoulder at Jason and his resolve snapped.

His hips were suddenly pistoling into you with a speed only reachable by a man like him. Your jaw hung open as a string of curses and groans bubbled past Jason’s lips.

“Need to..” You begged incoherently.

“I know, I know.. shit-” His cock twitched inside you. “cum with me, sweetheart.”

As soon as the words of permission slipped from his mouth your body reacted before your mind could process it. You cried out as your eyes rolled back in your head, your legs quivering so much you were grateful to be bent over the counter. Jason was cumming just as soon as he felt your cunt squeeze around him with a vice like grip. His thrusts became erratic and sloppy as he gasped and groaned out in pleasure.

Your head was hazy as your legs twitched with aftershocks. The only reminder that you were still on earth was Jason leaning down to press a kiss to the back of your neck.

“That’s it. Deep breath. Did so good for me, baby.” He cooed soothingly and pulled out.

You whined at the loss of him, feeling empty, but he quickly silenced you with a searing kiss. He watched with a proud grin as he leaked out of you, dripping down your inner thigh.

After you had calmed down enough to remember how to breath, Jason picked you up easily and began carrying you to the bathroom, his eyes on your face the entire time.

“Maybe I should make you angry more often.” You giggled.

He rolled his eyes at your remark, giving your nose a little kiss.

“Don’t even think about it.”

[mostlymihawk]

Intimidation

Mihawk, Shanks, and Koby x GN reader

Prompt: How they react when they find out you're being threatened/held hostage.

CW: Threats, blood, abuse mentions

Mihawk:

You try to hide it from him at first.

Someone had come into Mihawk's castle, slit your throat, and told you to pass on the message that "my next cut won't be so shallow" if Mihawk didn't stop hunting him.

You're determined not to be Mihawk's weakness, so you force yourself to get it together.

You pull yourself off the floor, change the bloody carpet, stop the bleeding, and tell Mihawk you've suddenly developed a fascination with scarves.

It works for about an hour, if that.

Maybe it was your fidgeting, the way you jumped at shadows, your darting eyes, shaking hands...you had so many tells.

Finally he takes you by the hand, leads you to bedroom, sits you on the bed...and pins you down with his eyes as he gently tugs the scarf away and reveals the wound.

You break down immediately and tell him everything, including why you wanted to hide it.

He is utterly silent as the words flow out of you like a burst dam, until you have nothing left and you're sobbing brokenly in his arms from the pain.

Mihawk needs a minute to digest everything you've told him.

"...You are not my weakness, you are my greatest strength. You are the lifeblood that pulses in my veins, the fabric of my very soul, the deity before whose altar I kneel in reverence every hour of every day."

Being a warlord of the sea, he is often seen as a dog at the marines' beck and call, but the reverse is also true.

His delicate fingers bandage your would with near-surgical precision, and then Mihawk calls in a favour.

A few scant days later, the freshly-replaced carpet is bloodied anew with the blood of the correct victim.

Mihawk loathes blood on the carpets, but it does make a nice tapestry to serve as a warning to any others fool enough to attempt to harm his betrothed.

Shanks:

Mid-brawl, you're grabbed by the opposing captain.

It's all very cliché, but he won't let you go no matter how hard you struggle.

"Alright, stop. I surrender. My life for theirs."

The enemy captain is grinning ear to ear as you're roughly shoved aside and caught by Shanks' first mate, Benn Beckmann.

He shushes you and hides your face in his chest to muffle your pleas as Shanks steps right up to the barrel of the gun that had just been levelled at your temple.

The captain asks if Shanks has any final words.

"...I lied."

The half second's delay as they struggle for control of the gun is enough for Yasopp to end it.

You're inconsolable for the rest of the day, but Shanks is too glad you're alive to be terribly upset about the insults hurled his way or the bruises he'll have on his chest later.

Koby

He knows something is wrong right away.

He's the nervous wreck in this relationship, so when you've lost all your spark he asks what's wrong, and gets suspicious when you're scared to tell him.

Drags you straight to Garp's desk, no matter how much you beg him not to or how much you insist they'd kill him if you got the marines involved.

"Listen...I've been where you are. For two years I was held hostage on a pirate ship. If you let yourself be scared into silence...it'll never get better. We have to fight this, it's the only way."

That said, he has absolutely no idea how to fight an entire pirate crew.

Thus, Garp.

Garp reminds you both that, as Koby's significant other, a threat against you a threat against the marines, the world government, and, by extension, a threat against humanity.

The pirates extorting you are all swiftly captured, imprisoned, or brought to justice.

What did they really expect to do against the might of the marines, after all?

"You see? They wanted you not to get the marines involved because they knew they'd never stand a chance if you did."

[fear-is-truth]

ALL PART OF HIS PLAN

kai anderson x f! reader￨nsfw. mdni￨wc: 2.4 k

w a r n i n g s – mdni !! porn with plot. oral sex (m receiving). unprotected p in v. dacryphilia. breeding kink (if you squint). english is not my first language. not proofread as usual

summary — mornings spent with kai weren’t always as mundane as it might seem

a/n – this took forever to complete cos every time i open this draft, i spend a good five minutes laughing at the cursed gif and the writing mood is completely ruined.

requested by: @ellaaaaa44

ೃ࿐ .

You woke up when the birds started chirping outside, just as the soft light of dawn filtered through the bedroom windows. Kai was still asleep next to you, his electric blue hair spilling across the white pillow like a halo. You were facing each other, his arm thrown over your waist. Carefully, you inched from under his arm and sat up, feeling the remnants of sleep clinging to your eyes. In the morning stillness, he almost looked innocent, pure, even. But you knew better— Kai Anderson was anything but pure.

Glancing at the digital clock on the bedside table, its red numbers glowing 06:57. It was Saturday, which meant Kai had a political rally scheduled at 10. As his girlfriend, you were expected to accompany him, not just as a supportive partner, but also to adorn his arm and enhance his appeal to the masses.

But Kai was smart. He had made sure the public knew more about you than just your looks. He had purposely made it known that you were well-educated, and a feminist, no less.

At first, you were skeptical about the whole idea, doubting that the media would find interest in speculating about the personal life of a politician. But, as always, Kai proved you wrong—which irked you to no end. The shallow nature of society never failed to disappoint.

The public adored the two of you, seeing you as an ambitious and attractive power couple, and the media lapped it up like hungry dogs. They also conveniently turned a blind eye to some of the more “controversial” political views of Councilman Anderson, choosing instead to focus on the carefully choreographed public displays of affection meant for the cameras—holding hands, stolen chaste kisses that you pretended to think no one was looking. Tabloid rumors ran rampant about your alleged engagement and the potential of a baby on the way, both of which were far from true, thank the fuck Christ.

That, and a couple of satanic killings that involved clowns, Kai had made significant progress in garnering supporters in a remarkably short period of time.

All part of his plan.

You had to admit, despite the circumstances, you and Kai did make quite a nice couple. There was no denying that the sex was mind-blowing and he had world-class cock that had never failed to make you come undone.

Kai was a pretty considerate lover as well, after you admitted your fear of pregnancy during “pinky power”, surprisingly, he didn’t even get mad or punish you, as expected. He told you that he respected your feelings and prioritized your health above his own preferences. Even though he openly expressed his disdain for wearing condoms, Kai stayed true to his word and wore one every time you asked him to, sparing you the stress.

But Kai had made you a promise that once he secured his position in the Senate, he would put a ring on your finger and you’d be the mother of his “messiah baby”. He made it sound like an honor, and you supposed that, in a twisted, fucked-up way, it was— you’d say yes, because it’s always yes for Kai. Even so, as much as you loved him (was it love? Or something stemming from Stockholm Syndrome, you weren’t entirely sure), the idea of bringing a child into the world still scared you shitless.

But again, you didn’t feel you had a say or a choice in the matter. Kai had rescued you from your lowest points, and for that, you were indebted to him for life.

Enough of that. That was phase two of the plan. Focus on the present.

Big day ahead, don’t fuck this up. All you have to do right now is pretty yourself up and smile, smile, smile for the cameras.

With a sigh, you slipped out of the warmth of the covers, careful not to disturb him. You tiptoed across the carpeted floor and into the en suite, closing the door gently behind you.

Yawning, you began to strip off your sleep clothes—starting with a comfortable T-shirt and booty shorts, followed by your bra and panties—tossing them haphazardly into the laundry basket. Then you stepped into the shower, the sound of rushing water filling your ears as you twisted the knob. You closed your eyes and tilted your face upward, feeling the cool spray hit your skin.

You didn't hear the sound of the bathroom door opening, nor the shuffle of clothes hitting the floor. Suddenly, the sliding glass door slid open, and your eyes snapped open in surprise, a yelp escaping your lips.

Kai stood there, undressed. His hair was a tousled mess. He blinked, his gaze sweeping over your naked form with an unimpressed expression.

He even had the audacity to look a bit offended and disgruntled, as if he wasn't the one barging in on your shower.

“Move over,” he grunted, his voice husky with sleep but his tone left no room for argument. You quickly shuffled to the side, making room for him under the spray.

Kai reached past you and turned the water knob to blast hot water, steam billowing around you as the temperature rose. His hair was slicked back by the water, the vibrant blue adding a splash of colour to the monochrome backdrop of black tiles. Head tilted back, his eyes were closed in blissful rapture as warm droplets of shower spray hit his face.

Your gaze wandered from his features to over his torso, taking in the sight in awe.

Kai looked beautiful. godly, even.

Starting from the clavicle of his neck, glistening rivulets of water meandered down, following the chiseled lines of his biceps and the breadth of his toned chest. Continuing their descent, they danced across his abs, taut and sculpted, rippling waves of raw, masculine strength that seemed to beckon you closer; drawing your eyes inexorably downward until they finally converged at the V-line of his lower abdomen.

Without as much as a glance in your direction, Kai reached for the bottle of 3-in-1 men’s shampoo sitting on the wall shelf.

“Like what you see?”

he poured some shampoo onto his palm. His tone was casual but you could sense the smugness. Heat flooded your cheeks, and it had nothing to do with the steam from the shower. Biting your bottom lip, you nodded bashfully.

“Mhm,” he hummed, fingers raking through his damp, blue locks as he pretended to consider.

“Work for it then. Get on your knees,”

You immediately sank to your knees, wrapping your fingers around the base of his shaft before pressing a kiss on the tip. He raised an eyebrow.

“What was that for?”

“Nothing,”

You smiled sweetly up at him before taking the tip between your lips, collecting the precum and swallowing it with a cheerful hum. Starting with kitten licks, you slowly dragged your tongue up the veiny underside of his cock.

“Fuck…” he hissed through his teeth,

“Attagirl– You’re so good at this…”

The heartfelt praise had a greater effect on you than his usual dirty talk ever could, encouraging you to hollow your cheeks with extra gusto, making sure to give a swirl of your tongue every time you reached the tip.

The groan that came from him seemed to validate his approval. Reaching down, Kai threaded his fingers through your hair into a makeshift ponytail to dictate your motion, bucking his hips into your mouth. Even as your eyes watered, you didn’t pull away as he continued to fuck your mouth. Instead, you peered up at him through your eyelashes and occasionally moaned so that he could know how much you appreciated pleasing him.

It wasn’t long until Kai gave your hair a small tug, and slid out with a small pop. He wasted no time snatching you by the underarms and pulling you to your feet.

His eyes raked over your body as if he was seeing you for the first time. One large, calloused hand trailed from your cheek, down to your neck, then to your arm and waist.

Bending down slightly, his hands continued to trace the smooth skin of your thighs, gently securing behind the bend of your knees. Before you could fully register what was happening, Kai was lifting you up effortlessly from the ground as if you weighed nothing at all. You squealed in surprise as he hoisted you up, your arms instinctively wrapping around his neck for support.

You gazed into his dark eyes to find that the sleep-induced glaze from earlier was now replaced by intense focus and determination. He meant business.

“Stay still, I wanna try something,”

Holding firmly onto your waist, Kai settled you against his hipbones, pausing for a moment to let you wrap your legs eagerly around his waist.

With the shower water cascading above you, it reminded you of the iconic kiss-in-the-rain scene from “The Notebook,” which you had watched together in bed just last week. Well, technically, you were the only one watching; Kai had been either scrolling through his phone or looking irritated the entire time.

Maybe this was just pure coincidence and wishful thinking on your part, or could it possibly be that he was trying to recreate that moment– impossible… right?

The subtle smirk curling his lips and the slight crease of his eyes confirmed your suspicions. So he had listened to your rambles on how hot Ryan Gosling looked. “Kiss me, please,” you begged, and he graciously obliged, claiming your lips in a hungry, open-mouthed kiss. You moaned and tangled your fingers into his hair when you felt his tongue slip past your teeth.

Pressing your back against the tiled wall, he positioned himself at your entrance, so that the tip of his cock was spreading your lips open. Then he pulled back from the kiss, a string of saliva connecting you both.

Maintaining eye contact, he sank his cock into your awaiting warmth. Your eyes widened and a little “ooh-” tumbled out of your mouth at the sensation of him filling and stretching you.

A small voice in the back of your head warned of the potential consequences—a slip, a fall, and the possibility of ending up in the hospital with a concussion or a bruised tailbone. However, any lingering inhibitions melted away in a heartbeat as Kai angled his thrusts in just the right way, hitting just the right spot that made you see stars.

“Whoa, this angle is– fucking amazing…”

Kai muttered between grunts as he continued to slam into you, rocking your entire body with each of his thrusts. It didn’t take long before the tightened coil inside you snapped completely; your pussy giving one final squeeze before you screamed out your release.

“Nuh-uh, princess. I’m not done with you yet,”

He spun you around, forcing you against the shower wall. You yelped in surprise and instinctively flattened your palms to steady yourself. Gripping your hips firmly to keep you in place, Kai sheathed himself inside you in one swift, brutal stroke.

“Ack- Kai!” you squealed as your cheek was pressed against the wall with a wet smack, feeling your breasts flatten against the cool surface. Your fingernails scrabbled against the slippery tiles, desperately searching for purchase as Kai reared back his hips. You let out a loud wail when he thrust back into you, setting a harsh, punishing pace. His pelvis slamming into your ass with such force that the supple flesh rippled with each thrust.

“Ah f-fuck… mghmm—” your vision was blurry with tears as he bottomed out once again, pressing himself so deep that you could feel every ridge and vein, every delicious throb and twitch—his eagerness to pump you full of his come but also to make you suffer just a little bit for his pleasure.

“Hah- you just love it when I fuck you into my perfect little brain-dead slut, don’t you?”

He grunted, his thrusts becoming progressively sloppier but somehow still maintaining the same pace. Whining pathetically, you wiggled your hips, allowing your cunt to swallow his cock deeper. Lewd schlick shlick noises ricocheted off the walls, dulled by the sound of your moans and pattering water.

“Look at me, little lamb,”

You peered over your shoulder, shiny, fat drops of tears decorating your eyelashes. He smiled fondly at you before pressing a tender kiss on your temple.

“You look so pretty when you cry,”

Kai’s hand brushed past your mound, fingers slipping between your thighs and started stroking; deceptively gentle caresses at the sensitive bundle of nerves until your entire body started to tremble. The hot coil in your belly was now impossibly tight.

“Puh-please please please Kai ‘m gonna c-”

“Go ahead,”

You didn’t need to be told twice. Kai groaned, his head falling to rest on your shoulder, his sloppy thrusts coming to a decrescendo.

“Make a mess on my cock. There you go baby- ahh fuck– yeah just like that,”

Kai buried himself deep inside you and you felt the warmth flooding your insides. He thrust lazily into you for a few more times for good measure, and you could feel his cock continuing to throb and spasm as he buried his come as deep as he could.

When the residual spasms finally waned, he pulled out, your combined release seeping out between your thighs and splattering onto the floor. You shivered from the loss of contact. He smirked, nipped playfully at your earlobe.

“What a way to start a morning, hm?”

…

After the hot water had finally run out and you both had cleaned yourselves, you sighed contentedly as you wrapped yourself in a fluffy towel. Despite the soreness between your thighs, you couldn’t help but feel satisfied. This had to be one of the best sex you ever had in your life.

Then, reality came crashing back as you remembered the potential consequences of your reckless actions.

“Kai! You didn’t pull out!” you squeaked, the pitch of your voice raising with panic. You weren’t on birth control either, since Kai was paranoid about side effects.

Kai, still tying his blue hair into a bun in front of the bathroom mirror, turned and looked at you. “The senate election is in the bag. Might as well start trying for a baby now,” he said coolly.

Phase two was already in motion, without you even knowing it.

 fear-is-truth 2024 — all rights reserved. do not modify, repost, translate, or plagiarise my content.

[3liza]

I'm reading Greek and Roman Necromancy by Daniel Ogden and once again encountered the trope of oracular locations and temples keeping snakes for various ritual purposes and "feeding them" on a kind of honey cake, which as far as I know would not be interesting whatsoever to a snake and even if a snake ate a baked good it would probably have trouble digesting it (I assume). so I was mulling this over, and naturally Ogden doesn't address it, I've actually never read any writer on these subjects address the animal husbandry involved with ancient rituals, which is always frustrating , and it occurred to me that snakes wouldn't eat a Twinkie but rodents and insects absolutely would.

if your ritual snakes are just being kept in some sort of enclosure, especially something like a pit or a katabasis (the Greeks were really big on a Amigara Fault-type procedure where people would go into holes in the earth in various ways and then come out of the holes in various ways and during this process be understood to have visited the underworld or received a vision from an oracular ghost such as Trophonius, the mechanical details of the process aren't clear), you probably aren't directly observing them very often except for any part of the rituals that involve handling, during which the snakes wouldn't be eating anyway. but alone in their enclosures with a bunch of bakery snacks, the rodents and bugs could sneak out of hiding and get grabbed by the snakes.

also I imagine a lot of the smoke and mirrors of the staff at these temples involved managing the various sacred animals somewhat like a petting zoo or a feeder goldfish tank at PetSmart, and just disappearing any of them that died so the clients wouldn't see them. it's likely the staff were cleaning, feeding, and taking care of the snakes at various locations and the dogs at the Asclepias temple and so on.

one has to imagine that most temple priesthood were probably just people who had gotten that particular job somehow, and not the ecstatic true believers that are depicted in every classicist romantic painting and most mythological or fictional imaginings of such places. of course there are tons of modern fiction books that imagine the same thing I do, I read The Jaguar Princess by Clare Bell when I was about 13 and loved the plain and practical descriptions of Aztec temple life, the process of creating art, and the anatomical approach to the idea of a were-jaguar (i have no idea if this book stands up, probably not), I think it permanently contextualized my thinking about ancient ritual as practical and pedestrian for the people who worked in that field. it's fun to imagine the blood-soaked ancient temples in any part of the history of humanity being as ho-hum as an Anglican church service, but they probably were for most people.

[nicromancytarot]

YOUR DAILY ROUTINE 5 YEARS FROM NOW

This is a general reading based on a collective of people. Take what resonates and leave what doesn’t. If you don’t feel like the pile resonates with you, don’t be scared to pick another, if it still doesn’t feel right, that’s ok! Maybe our energies aren’t as connected and my readings are not for you.

I do these strictly for fun and educational purposes. I do not charge for these readings, and I do not fake readings. I would tell you the cards I get for the readings, but I pull like 15-20 cards each reading and that is just slightly a strenuous task to write them all down lmao.

PICK A CARD READING

I asked my spirit guides what your daily routine looks like in 5 years time, pick a card to find out what they had to say!

Pile 1 ———> Pile 2 ———> Pile 3

DISCLAIMER: the timelines I give are not the period as a whole, they are just an estimate of the time when these events could happen.

PILE 1

7:00-7:30am: Wake up, I got the lyric “7am the usual morning line up” from “When will my life begin?” Rapunzel, so you guys are waking up early. The first thing you do is either feed your pets or children, I’m getting heavy dogs for those of you who don’t have kids by this time, but I am seeing a lot of children vibes.

8:00-900am: Showering and getting ready, if you have kids, your partner will be up and looking after them for you, or this will be the time you take them to school. I feel like you’ll be listening to podcasts or ted talks every morning to get you ready for the day.

9:30-10:00am: Checking emails? You might be working from home and checking your emails or messages from clients or employers. I see you sat at your desk with a warm cup of something, going through things on your computer, your partner walks in and lets you know that they’re leaving for work now.

10:30-11:30am: Work work work, you guys will find yourself dealing with a lot of work during this time, however I do think that you make money by the hour, some of you could have a job that ensures you get paid separately by each client (like Tarot or something)

12:00-1:00pm: Making lunch for your partner, you guys will either go out to buy it and then drop it by their work, or you will make it yourself so that it feels special. Some of you could be seen as the “trophy spouse” when it comes to your partners work, they all think you’re a doll and are probably jealous of the food that you bring for your partner.

1:30-2:00pm: You can do whatever you want, this is your break time to go shopping or chill on the couch and watch your favourite show, I see that this changes often so you may like to do different things during this break, it’s not something that is set in stone forever.

2:00-3:00pm: Back to work, I feel this is when you do your best and most progressive work, some of you may be balancing another online job like authoring or possibly being a ghost writer for someone else. This is the time when you would absolutely hate to be distracted or interrupted.

3:00:3:30pm: Your final time to rest up before having to pick up the kids or take your dogs on a walk. During this time you might make yourself a snack, tidy the house (although I feel like you guys have a cleaner)

3:30-4:00pm: Little bit of a messy thirty minutes, you’re rushing around, which is why I think kids could be involved here, the school pick up is never easy lmao. For those of you who don’t have kids, this may just be you being dragged around the street by your dogs (I think they are large)

4:30-5:00pm: Your partner is home! You are also probably dealing with your children fighting during this time LMAOO, one of them wants the TV remote and the other is pissed. This could also be your time to catch up with your partner and tell each other about your day.

5:00-6:00pm: Dinner time, I do think you’ll be the one making dinner, but you definitely want to, sometimes your partner helps you out, but since you did the school run both ways, they’re looking after the kids for you now. You spend a while on cooking, you may even get it prepared around lunch time, throwing some meat in the slow cooker for later.

6:00-7:00pm: wind down time with family, chilling on the couch with the pets, watching as the kids play on the trampoline outside, relaxing in the arms of your significant other. Very calm energy for this.

7:30pm-9:30pm: The battle of the demons, time to put the kids to bed! The kids don’t like going to bed. “But I went to sleep yesterday!” You’ll have a field trip with these.

10:00pm-12:00am: You wanna get spicy with your partner? You can, here’s your opportunity. I do see you guys trying to make another kid around this time if you already have them, or perhaps this is your first. Relaxing in bed with your significant other, I’m seeing someone counting 100 dollar bills, so take that as you will, you may even take a shower together to end the night, or possibly getting wet in other ways is your way to close the day.

PILE 2

5:00-6:00am: Wake up. You guys may have to commute to work, and need to wake up early, for some of you, your work could be over seas, like if you lived in Paris but commuted to London for work everyday using the tunnel, or if you lived on the Isle Of White in the UK and needed to travel on a ferry to get to your job, either way, you’re waking up before the sun rises.

7:00-9:00am: Work, you’re at work for the majority of the day now, your job itself seems something that you’re used to and like doing, a lot of you may have to coordinate meetings, so you could be a higher up. There does seem to be a tad of stress here and there, for a few this may be caused by need of public speaking, for others there could be workplace drama.

10:00am-4:00pm: The people around you look up to you a lot, you may own a company or share management of it, there is a possibility of you working in something which involves fighting, a few of you may be in the army, and this could be the cause for the early wake up and start to the day. Either way, whatever you’re doing, you are the head of it, people have to work with you in order to climb the ranks and better improve their chance of success. You could honestly be in control of pay upgrades and promotions for your business or workplace. I see you making a lot of money by having a lot of control.

5:00-6:00pm: Home time, I see you making dinner or possibly even ordering out, although I do think that you have a healthy diet and lifestyle. A few of you could have your own cook, or utilise certain artificial intelligence that makes food??? (I don’t know bro, my guides seem to think that could be a thing of the future, you could have an online recipe book that you follow)

7:30-10:00pm: Resting up or doing whatever you want. I can’t get a strong read on this as I think it changes each day, you could sometimes go on a run, other time you’re baking cookies on call with your mother. I do think you have a strict schedule you follow when it becomes time to go to bed, you sleep like a log lmao. Some of you may be looking for a relationship at this time, and this could be the entry period for going on dates, perhaps you go on multiple dates a night lol, you seem to be the life of the party either way. A lot of you don’t drink, I see someone at a bar holding a juice box so take that as you will.

Sorry it was so short pile 2! Your day is much more put together and scheduled.

PILE 3

4:00-9:00am: If you have a young baby at this time, you may immediately go to nursing them as soon as you wake up, it honestly could even be that you’ve woken up early morning, your partner comes over to your side of the bed holding the baby, hands it to you. I do see a lot of stress around this time, so honestly I think the majority, if not all of you will have kids in five years time.

7:00-9:00am: I see you spending this time laying in your bed with your partner, possibly the kids have joined you now and you’re all just relaxing watching some TV for the few hours that you have until the morning begins and you need to get up and ready. For the few of you who may not be in a relationship or have kids, this could be a pet perhaps that you are spending the early morning with.

8:00-10:00am: You’re getting out of bed around this time and heading to the kitchen to get some breakfast started, you may have time to take a quick shower around this time, your partner will be looking after the kids, getting them all ready for the day so they can come and eat breakfast in time when it’s made.

8:30-9:00am: Some big change happens around this time, it may be that the kids are taken to school, or you perhaps take them to school. I’m seeing that this is the moment you begin your work for the day, I’m not too sure if you leave the house for it, I think so, as it does seem that there’s a change of scenery.

10:00am-12:00pm: This time is spent getting everything together for your job, I am seeing someone grabbing some coffee, if you work a corporate job, you’ll be getting yourself and some other people some coffee, collecting papers to make sure all your paperwork is complete. Some of you could be a therapist, psychologist or something to do with examining people, this is when you grab all your stuff to prepare for your clients, possible meetings etc.

12:00-1:00pm: A lot of teamwork around this time, this will be your first meeting of the day, first client, first job that you are supposed to complete. I see a need to write down a lot of stuff, you may even have a meeting presentation during this hour. Your lunch time may appear late, you perhaps have a job that runs over the normal lunch hour, so you go on your break in the next 1-2 hours.

2:00-3:00pm: Lunch time, I feel like you will leave your work building to go and buy lunch elsewhere, or perhaps your partner will bring you lunch themself, you might even order it into your section. You could be getting paid this time everyday, or you may count up your money for the day at this point.

3:30-4:00pm: You get to decide what you do here, I think sometimes you get the opportunity to go home at this time, other days you have to stay a little later, I think it depends on your schedule and the day of the week.

5:00-6:00pm: You get home during this period, I see there possibly being some time for you to relax and so what you want, before your partner and kids come home, some of you may have family around at this time each day? Or perhaps you live with extended family members and they will be making dinner for you, or getting some things done.

7:00pm-12:00am: A lot of you honestly could have family helping around the house, or perhaps you even have personal butlers, I don’t see you having to do much when it comes to making dinner, getting the kids to bed or anything, I see that you’ll be working hard on some paperwork that needs finishing, or getting your schedule ready for tomorrow, you’ll mainly be focusing on your work during this period too, I feel like you like to be prepared. You may get intimate with your partner during this time, I don’t see it lasting for too long as I think they go to bed earlier than you.

[hedwig221b]

Witch or magical Stiles recs..?

Hi! I did magical!Stiles fic recs here! This time, let's focus on witch!Stiles (my beloved)

A Thousand Fiery Suns of Angst - Just Press Play by apocryphal

All Stiles wants from life is to learn to control his magic, keep his grades up, and not die horribly while saving Beacon Hills from supernatural threats. It's all going pretty well until Derek Hale, werewolf extraordinaire, has to go and ask him on a date. That asshole.

The Wolf in the Tower by exclamation

Too many people are scared of witches so when Stiles accidentally sets a building on fire with magic, he is taken prisoner and dragged before Lord Hale. Rather than leave an untrained magic user free, Peter Hale thinks he might be able to make use of Stiles' skills and hands Stiles over to his sorceror Deaton to be trained. Stiles is still unsure about his future, but he's even more confused when he finds out that one of his new duties involves feeding the black wolf imprisoned at the top of one of the towers. There's something very strange about this wolf and Stiles can't help wondering if magic might be involved.

Dead Things by standinginanicedress

Derek blows some more smoke out. He chooses to look at Stiles’ mouth instead of in his eyes, again. “I need you to bring someone back.” “Back.” “From the dead.” “Absolutely not,” Stiles scoffs, shaking his head. “Not for you, not for all the money in the world.” Derek looks at him, just looks. He is not going to accept no for an answer, and Stiles knows it, but it doesn’t matter, because Stiles will not do that. He cannot do that, not again. “Why not for me in specific?”

For My Flesh Had Turned to Fur, and My Thoughts Had Turned to You by literaryoblivion

They’ve known about the other pack for quite some time now. They know the pack is young and small, formed together more by accident and necessity than anything else. But, they haven’t done anything about them because they’ve been fairly quiet, kept to themselves, and haven’t caused any trouble. That is until the Hales start hearing rumors about the McCall pack acquiring a very young and inexperienced but powerful witch. So Alpha Hale sends her eldest son, Derek, for all intents and purposes, to spy on the McCall pack and their so-called witch, to see what the truth of the situation is.

The Ink Under My Skin by rainsoakedshoes

Derek is looking for an Emissary. What he finds is Stiles Stilinski; resident witch. Stiles would do whatever it takes to protect the Hale pack and his Alpha. “I want to protect my pack as well as I can,” Derek continued. “Emissaries traditionally keep balance, having someone who wants to tip the odds in our favour may come in handy.”

Destiny is the Rising Sun by asswords

Stiles and Derek are best at keeping secrets – the biggest one being the fact that they knew each other long before Scott had to go and become a werewolf. (The second biggest secret belongs to Stiles, something about how he’s not allowed to tell Derek he’s the trusted advisor and kind of a witch.)

your fangs against my skin (the sound of your bones)

This was it, then, huh? It was that easy for Derek to invite someone to his den. Someone other than Stiles. He healed the wolf. Stiles killed his tormentor, mended his blood and bones, and let him sleep beside him. But none of it was enough. He wasn’t a spark, after all, but a witch — evil and alone, locked up in his tower. Witches didn’t get happy endings.

What I Did On My Summer Vacation by grimm

There's something weird about Beacon Hills that Stiles can't quite put his finger on. The way everyone in town knows his name the day he arrives. The way they insist the melancholic howling that echoes through the forest every night is just a dog. The way his dad denies getting a dog, even though Stiles comes home to find one sprawled across his bed, some big black thing whose eyes gleam red in the right light. The way that massive oak tree out in the woods vibrates under his touch, pulsing with sickly life. There's something weird going on in this town, and Stiles is determined to get to the bottom of it.

These Scars Tell A Story (But It’s Not Mine) by HappyJuicyfruit

Derek’s eyes widened in confusion as Stiles babbled at him. “I know it’s not up to you, but you’re like, my guard, right? You’ve been keeping an eye on me? Tell your mom I wouldn’t lie about this, my dad deserves to stay here. He’s happy here, please let him stay!” Guard? Keeping an eye on him? “Stiles, I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Stiles face crumpled, his hands clung to Derek’s shirt tighter as tears and snot dripped off his chin. Derek frantically tries to think of the right thing to say. “You think- you think I’m your guard? That I’ve been watching you to, what, make sure you don’t do any magic? Stiles, that’s ridiculous. Beacon Hills is a sanctuary for supernaturals. We allow people to use their magic. I was just trying to be your friend.” Stiles breath hitched. “My friend?”

Other fic recs: pack mom!Stiles | angsty fics | historical AU | baby/mpreg | outsider POV | possessive Derek | smut | hurt/comfort | Stiles gets kicked out of the pack | mafia | BAMF!Stiles | omegaverse | creature!Stiles | bad friend Scott

[nanamiscocksleeve]

For my request, can you write a oneshot featuring Nanami and a woman reader in an Aladdin AU with chastity and edging please? In the story, Nanami has been hired to work as a palace guard for the sultana aka the reader. But he realizes too late that part of the job involves having his cock locked in a chastity cage and enduring various edging tests to determine his willpower. What do you think?

As You Wish, Princess

I'm so sorry this took so long! Here you go! I truly had fun writing this because subby Nanami isn't requested too often. Also, the premise was really fresh, which is something I've been struggling with. Ideas for JJK seem to be going like hotcakes, and while I can appreciate different takes on the same idea, I always want mine to be different, even if it's slightly.

Warnings: MDNI, coercion, male chastity, edging, ruined orgasm, power dynamics, dubcon

Applying for a position as a palace guard for the precious sultana was something Nanami had done for two reasons; one, the pay was amazing, and two, the position came with living quarters. As someone who had lived a hard life in the small streets of the marketplace as a laborer, there had been no qualms in his mind when a man from the palace had walked through the dusty roads calling out that the palace was hiring help. 

When he’d arrived at the outer courtyard, looking dog-eared and dirty, the designated official had looked at him up and down, wrinkling his nose, but had refrained from saying anything on account of his impressively muscled and toned body, the long hours spent dragging bags of rice, wheat, and other essential grains making him akin to a sharp, chiseled, marble statue, something that should belong in a museum for others to wonder at. He towered over the puny official who had directed him to the head guard. They had an array of tests that he needed to pass and he had done so with ease; running a mile within a few minutes, climbing various obstacles to check his core strength, and how quickly he could escape when surrounded on all sides. The only test he had almost failed was swordsmanship, barely managing to take down his opponent, winning by a hair. 

“The sultana has a final test of her own, after which it’ll be determined if you can keep the job. Wait here.” The head guard walks off into the cool, marbled entrance of the palace, and Nanami paces, awaiting his return. It takes a while before the guard comes strutting back, and then beckons him to follow. Nanami walks unassumingly behind him eyes scanning the opulence that is the palace. The marble seemed to shine, spotless and polished, with hints of gold tucked away artistically. Small murals adorned the walls and ceilings, rich tapestries hung everywhere. 

The guard leads him to a private wing where there is a single door, quite plain looking and rather lackluster. “The sultana is waiting in there. And remember peasant, whatever she tells you to do, do it. No questions, lest you want to be beheaded for impudence. Now go on. Don’t keep her waiting.” He knocks on the door and leaves. 

Nanami waits, wondering what kind of test this would be, and then startles when the door opens. You look at him with pretty eyes lined in kohl, dressed in a simple, flowy, full-armed, muslin dress that managed to flatter your figure despite not giving anything away. He bows and waits. 

You giggle. “Well, aren’t you polite? Enter, Mr…?”

“Kento Nanami,” he supplies as he raises and walks into the room. The shades were drawn despite the heat, and the room was lit by dim oil lamps scattered across the room. He awaits his permission to sit and hears the click of the door as it shuts behind him. You move towards him, admiring the thickness of his biceps, the broadness of his shoulders, and the sinew and tightness of his thighs, barely contained by the threadbare flowy pants he was wearing. 

“What brought you here?” you ask, circling him. Nanami is acutely aware of your gaze but he acts indifferent. 

“I was told the sultana needed a bodyguard. It’s a job preferable over manual labor.”

“Oh,” you titter, then come to a halt in front of him. He’s tall, and you have to tilt your head up to look at him. “Is that all? You didn’t come to admire my beauty and grace? Or for the prospect of being the only one who would be accompanying me everywhere? While I’m eating, bathing, changing my garb…none of that came into your mind?”

Truthfully, it hadn’t. The promise of gold, a roof over his head, and food in his belly had been his only motivators. But now as he gauges you standing so sweetly in front of him with those doe-eyes and full lips, he realizes that it made sense you were asking him this. The sultana’s bodyguard needed to have self-control after all, given that parts of the job required being somewhat intimately in proximity to her, as far as the decency laws allowed. 

“I admit sultana, no, it hadn’t. But if you are worried about me behaving indecently or taking advantage of you, there’s no reason to worry. I understand my limitations and would never compromise your purity.”

“You wouldn’t?” you cock your head to the side and tsk. “How boring.”

Taken aback, Kento stares at you, unsure how to respond. It wasn’t a reply he had been expecting. Your eyes are glittering now, full of mischief, and he wonders for a split second if you were toying with him. Surely not? The sultana had a reputation to maintain. You may have said it as a joke. He mustn’t take it seriously if he wanted this job.

“I was told that the final test before qualifying to be your bodyguard was set by you, sultana,” he ventures, hoping to change the topic. “If your grace so allows, may I ask what it is?”

You hum, then wander over to one of the divans and settle down on it, fiddling with your neatly styled hair, wondering. Kento truly was a treat for the womanly eyes. How such a delectable-looking specimen had managed to stay hidden for so long truly boggled your mind. However, he was a man, and men were fallible to their desires. 

“Have you ever been with a woman, Kento?” 

The muscled man looks rather startled at the question. Purity laws meant little to those who were not nobles. Of course he had been with a woman, many in fact, but he remains silent, trying to arrange his features into one of polite inquiry. 

“I beg you pardon your grace?”

“You see, our laws dictate I cannot intimately know a man unless he is wed to me. I must remain chaste and pure for the man who is to be my future husband. And that means that whoever becomes my bodyguard must remember this at all times, even when I am in immodest situations. After all, the sultana’s bodyguard remains with her at all times, sometimes right outside the door as her husband makes love to her.” You watch him squirm uncomfortably under your gaze and he quickly bows to you.

“I beg your forgiveness sultana but I cannot discuss this matter with you. It is very unbefitting for a woman of your birth.”

You giggle at his response. “A woman of my birth? Oh, how considerate of you Kento. So am I to assume you were a rogue out in the lawless streets beyond the palace? Have you tumbled with many a maiden then? Jumping from bed to bed whenever it suited your fancy?”

The color rises in Kento’s cheeks and he continues to keep his head low. “Sultana, I understand if this raises concern for someone such as yourself but I assure you, my intentions are unsullied. If I was hired to be your bodyguard, I understand I cannot live as I previously did. I will reform of course, to your bidding. I would consecrate my life for you, your grace. No one, man or woman, is a higher priority than you.”

You consider his words but can’t resist the unholy thoughts forming in your head. His clothes were so worn that you could grab his shirt by accident and it would tear. At least, you would make it look like an accident. You wondered how those muscles would ripple if you ran your fingers across them…maybe even daring to dip your fingertip into the little depression of his belly button. 

“So incredibly dedicated. I suppose I won’t find a bodyguard who passed all the other tests and also be this devoted would I?”

“I promise your grace you will not. I will be the only security you will ever need.”

“Then you won’t mind if I test your willpower? Put you to your limit and see how much you can take before you finally snap under the tension?” There’s a strange lilt to your tone as you speak, and Nanami can’t help but have his interest piqued.

“Not at all sultana.”

“Very well. Now remember, you must obey my requests without question. This is about me ensuring you have what it takes to be my personal guard, even if what I’m asking seems…unorthodox.” You sit up straighter on the divan. “You may begin by removing your clothes.”

Kento’s eyes widen in shock his mouth going dry. You were surely joking? “Sultana?” he asks hesitantly, hoping he’d misheard you. 

You giggle. “Oh, I assure you that you heard correctly. Remove your clothes.”

The burly man looks down at himself uncertainly. Sensing his doubt, you repeat the command with a firm touch of authority. “Your sultana, the person whose life you will be responsible for, has already made her request twice. Do not make me say it again.”

Kento’s jaw clenches as he tries to think of a good way out of this. Was this a test? Was he supposed to try denying you again? It didn’t feel so, not with the way you sat with your arms crossed impatiently over your chest, the fabric of your muslin dress curving over your bosom. Kento quickly kills that thought, images of food, fresh clothes, and money in his pocket tugging at his indecisiveness. He swallows causing his Adam’s apple to bob, a gesture that does not go unnoticed, as you wait for your unwilling prey to make a move. 

You can see the cogs in his brain turning, trying to think of a strategic way to another path forward but you know there are none. He was at your mercy if he wanted the job. Kento sighs, and then to your satisfaction, his hands start to bunch up the fabric of his thin tunic.

Kento is blushing as he pulls the cloth over his head, and he stands stripped to the waist, all hard muscles and veiny arms, looking like a delicious cut of steak. Your eyes wander over his skin, tanned from the sun, with a tatch of golden hair on his pecs that trailed down over his belly button and disappeared below his pants. He truly was a stunning specimen of masculinity. You can see him growing shy, grappling with the idea of whether or not he should continue.

“Everything looks good from here. Please continue.” You prompt him, unable to stop your lip from curling as he jerks his head in your direction. With shaky hands, he undoes the drawstring that holds up his loose cotton trousers, and with a soft swoosh, they fall to the floor, leaving his powerful thighs and toned calves bare. You’re pleased to see there’s a prominent bulge in his underwear. 

“Come on now. That too.” You say cajolingly glancing at his underwear. He can barely keep his head up and he pulls them down with trembling hands and your mouth waters as his cock finally springs free, looking so pretty and needy as it rests against his belly. 

“Hmm that's more like it.” You rise gracefully and saunter over to him and before he has a chance to react you grab his erection. His mouth falls open and his eyes widen in shock. 

“You keep insisting that you’re dedicated. But I wonder how much restraint you have when you’re frustrated? Or when your patience is running thin. I believe it’s better to test it now.” You run your thumb over the head of cock, feeling the telltale signs of precum beginning to form in the slit. 

Kento was in hell but he doesn’t dare move. He knows how precarious this situation was. If anyone were to come in here and see them like this…it’s his head they would be after. He watches your small fingers wrap around him, barely touching around the column of heated velvet. He grits his teeth, a strangled grunt leaving him. What was your goal?

As you start to pump him, you can feel the angry throb of his cock, feel the pulse and observe the way the little veins bulge as you tend to him. You knew you had him cornered. He couldn’t cry for help. If he did, you would act as innocent as a lamb. You preferred it this way. Subservient guards were the best. You continue to play with him, even going as far as squeezing his balls, giving them light tugs that has him moaning, his hips bucking in hopes of finding a release. His eyes close and you can tell he was anticipating a sweet climax…before you stop, removing all physical contact and letting his cock hang in the lurch.

His eyelids fly open wildly and he looks at you in what looks like disbelief. You laugh at his state and run a finger down his brawny chest. “What did you think was going to happen here?” You see the confusion in his eyes as he tries to bring himself back to reality. “Did you forget this was a test of willpower?”

His eyes nervously follow yours as you stalk your prey. “You should be thankful I stopped before you came all over yourself. It would be messy to clean that up and there are no wash chambers nearby. You would have to go all the way down to the servant’s quarters. And I’m sure everyone would be curious as to why you’re leaving your meeting with the sultana with various stains on your clothes.”

Your eyes gleam as Kento blushes at your description. “Now, we are going to repeat this over and over again until I’m satisfied you can control yourself.” You gesture to a pouf and indicate you want him to sit down. Kento backs down shakily, unsure what to say. Morally, he knows this is wrong. But the authority you’re taking over him, this confident ownership, was gnawing away at his strength. Because didn’t the sultana own all her subjects? He was at your mercy, obliged to indulge your whims. He was ashamed at his arousal, at the thoughts forming in his head about what he would like to do to you now. He could imagine tearing off that frumpy muslin gown, exposing your nipples to his mouth while his hand presses against the tatch of curly hair between your legs while he stroked you to ecstasy.

His thought are interrupted as you kneel before him. You pump his cock again, and make direct eye contact. Wordlessly, your mouth opens, and Kento’s heart shoots into his throat as he realizes what you’re about to do. With a slurp, you take his heated flesh into your mouth, the hot wetness of it enveloping him like a glove. His fingers dig into the soft cushion and he bucks with abandon. He knows you weren’t planning on letting him cum but maybe if he was quick enough he could before you took your sweet, wet, cavern away…

You’re far too observant and quickly pull away your mouth and Kento is left heaving, an animalistic look in his eyes. He had been so close, had felt that telling scrunch of his balls before you abandoned him again. There’s a numb sensation of pain in his tip and he lays back trying to gain control.

“Not bad. Most men would be trying to pounce on me by now I suppose.” You stand, wiping saliva from your mouth, feeling the lingering aftertaste of his salty beads of precum that had escaped into your throat. You smack your lips, then make up your mind.

“You have the job.”

Disbelievingly, Kento looks at you. His cock pulsed from unleashed need. You quirk an eyebrow. “Unless, you don’t want it? Perhaps you’re a lion pretending to be a meek little kitten? Are you waiting for my back to turn so that you can pounce on me? Catch me unaware?”

Kento scampers to his feet and bows, his cock comically flopping as he expresses his gratitude. “Not at all sultana. I’m…” He clears his throat, trying to catch his breath. “I’m very thankful you’ve chosen me.”

You grin wickedly. “Of course. And I find the best guards are the ones that are always on high alert. Therefore-” You gesture at his semi-hard cock, “I think it’s best if that remains unrelieved.”

Kento feels his mouth go dry. “Unrelieved?”

“Don’t tell me that you weren’t planning on jerking yourself off once I’d dismissed you?” Your eyes gleam as he shrinks at your words. “That simply won’t do. You’re my personal guard now. Therefore, you must always be on my schedule.” 

You walk to a cabinet in the corner of the room and Kento watches you dubiously as you bring out a sort of cage made of metal. “Do you know what this is?” you ask, letting the contraption dangle from your finger. He shakes his head. He honestly had no idea.

You giggle and slip a metallic ring over his cock, pushing his balls through it and securing it behind them. The coldness makes him hard again. “Oh perfect. Makes this part easier.” You slide the strange, curved, cylindrical, device over his cock and he watches in fearful fascination as it lines up with the ring behind his balls. You smirk and slip a lock between the two, securing it in place, his cock contained inside.

“This is called a chastity cage. Think of it as a way to help your urges. From now on, your pleasure will be on my time.” Kento’s mind goes blank as he watches you pocket the key.

You chuckle. “What? This is what it means to devote your life to the sultana.” You pleasantly hand him his clothes. “Report to the main security quarters where they will give you your new uniform as well as information about your wage and living quarters. Report back here once this is all taken care of.”

You start to saunter out of the room, leaving Kento looking dumbstruck. At the door, you glance at him over your shoulder.

“Be prepared for regular testing from now on. Nothing like frequent training to keep your skills sharp hmm?” 

reblog divider by @/ cafekitsune

© nanamiscocksleeve original work | no copying, plagiarizing or translating

@aether-seawolf @makingtimemine @snwvie @facelessfionna @sweetskozume @theimmortalbuns @supernaturalbaesduh @marusatonanhin @pwd54gr54 @brekkersgf

[siddyyyyyyyy]

OHH okay! Thank you for answering my question! Then, if you can, how would bat boys(or kyle lol) flirting with Mc, who at the end of the convo reveals that they have a kid(like 5yo) and would completely understand if they didn't wanted to take this further?

OR! OR OR OROR-

Imagine Mc is Bruce's daughter who was not involved in bat business and went abroad, hiding from the media with their partner, living their best life when all of the sudden, batfam visits and they both look at Mc and the baby in their arms and everyone's like "WDYM YOU HAVE A BABY AND WE NEVER KNEW- WDYM IT'S BEEN 3 MONTHS???" (basically the case that, you never showed the sighs of Pregnant went to labor and suddenly you have a kid you didn't even know existed til last minute. And in your panic and stress forgot to inform them but this is just what I think would happen you don't have to use it lol)

you don't have to do this lol, ty for taking time to read this<3 HAVE A GREAT DQYY!!

BATBOYS REACTING TO YOU HAVING A KID

pairing: Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Tim Drake x Reader (seperated) summary: Batboys flirt with you until they realise you have a small child warnings: none a/n: I didn't put Damian Wayne in here, I thought it felt a bit off, so I added Bruce to it! Thank you for the request, I chose the first option you described, but I'll maybe consider writing something for the second option. This is a little different from my usual format, but I made sure this still looks pretty and can be understandable. Thank you again and also have a great day!!!

BRUCE WAYNE

He saw you before, once, when he was Damian's dog out for a walk at the park nearby. At first, he didn't plan on flirting with you when Titus walked over and sniffed at your bag.

At first he was afraid you'd get scared when a Great Dane came your way and curiously sniffed at your handbag, but you didn't budge a muscle at him.

So, of course, Bruce came over to pick up the dog and hopefully not make you freak out. With a light jog, he quickly put the leash back on Titus, already looking sheepish at the situation.

"Sorry about him, he didn't scare you, did he?", but you seemed even amused at this. Maybe he underestimated you.

Soon enough, you got into a conversation, petted Titus gently, becoming even more fund of this big animal.

Bruce sat down beside you on the bench and kept talking to you, thinking you have a charming and kind personality. He'd be damned soon enough, he knows it.

That's how he started flirting with you; it started with subtle compliments until he couldn't help himself anymore. His nice words became progressively more direct, but still respectful as ever. All in all, he was sure he already got your heart.

That was until a small kid came up to you with a big smile, hands a bit dirty from the playing in the mud. That small human couldn't be older than five years old. He was confused for a moment as he watched the interaction between the two of you, eventually realising that is your kid.

God, he felt guilty. You were probably happily married with someone way better than him and just kept up with his flirting so you wouldn't come off as rude. Once the child went back to playing with the other group of kids on the playground, he tried his best to keep his embarrassment aside.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know you had a kid. Well... I have four of my own, so..." He really doesn't know what to say. But you still remain kind and sweet, even though he was shamelessly flirting wtih you a second ago.

With a kind smile, you wave him off; "Oh, don't you worry. It was nice talking to you anyway. And you have kids of your own? How old are they?"

And that's how he continued talking to you, getting back to good terms and his embarrassment long forgotten. Seems like you both do have more in common than it seemed. Bruce couldn't be more happy than to keep talking to you and spend time, but you eventually parted ways after a longer while, with each other's phone numbers exchanged.

DICK GRAYSON

He was out with Damian to get ice cream when he saw you in the line, hoping he can get some quick excuse to talk with you alone. Yeah, Damian will annoy him for days about it and tell on him, but who cares? That's a one chance oppurtunity he's got there and he will use it.

Dick got Damian away by getting him into a cool book and supply store nearby, making his own way to you.

He didn't want to come off as too desperate or obvious, 'accidently' cutting you in line so he can strike a conversation with you in that way. You responded kindly to his small accident, waving him off politely.

The conversation started with him introducing himself shortly after, getting to know the basics about each other before he starts basically showering you with compliments. But he was trying to come off as subtle and charming as possible, which came naturally for him.

His light-hearted jokes and loving words seemed to work on you, so he didn't mind keeping this up while getting to know you more. Now with ice cream cones in your hands, you settled onto a table inside the cool shop and continued talking.

You got into more conversation once you sat down together and enjoyed the ice cream together, getting to know the other a little more once he stopped overflowing you with compliments.

But he got a bit confused when you got up to get another portion of ice cream, in a small cup with a sweet waffle in it. Curiously, he just had to ask you about it.

"Another ice cream?" It was more of a mutter to himself, but you still heard it when you sat down across from him again. "Oh, just for my son. He's playing there right now, but he told me to get him some ice cream aswell." You gesture towards the playground next to the ice cream shop, making him search for a small kid that could be yours.

Why didn't he notice earlier? It was so obvious now that he knows, why would someone get ice cream next to a playground anyway? He really tries to not think too much of it and get back on track, but he also didn't want to get into such a situation at all. But of course nothing ever goes his way.

Damian is next to him out of nowhere, asking him to go home. He probably got some books from that store he was just now, judging by the plastic bag in his hand.

"Is that your kid? You guys have the same nose. Cute." You smile sweetly at them, completely unaware of them being brothers. Dick shoots a pleading look to Damian, hoping he'll play along.

"Uh, yeah... that's Damian." Dick chuckles nervously and gets up from the chair, putting his hand on his shoulder. Damian looks more awkward than before, keeping his glare on you.

With the final excuse of Damian being tired, he gets out of the shop and hurries home, ignoring all the questions and annoyed remarks from Damian. He knows he probably should've been more careful, but now he just feels guilty for leaving so quickly and lying.

Eventually, he thought more about the situation. A kid doesn't sound so bad after all. So, without wasting any more time he made his way to the shop again, hoping you'll be there again, even when a few days have passed already.

JASON TODD

In all honesty, he wasn't fond of kids at the start. But it quickly changed when he was patrolling as Red Hood and just had to protect the kids in Crime Alley and at the area where he grew up in.

He met you in the local library, having spotted you at the romance section and he really didn't want to disturb you searching for a book at the moment.

He eventually got his courage and walked to the same section, trying to not come off as intimidating. It didn't work, you almost immediately got to the section next to it to search for... 'children books'? Whatever, he doesn't judge.

Jason tries to ignore you as he searches a book for himself, keeping his eyes on the shelf.

Days have passed and he spots you in the same section more often. It was interesting to him, how you just appeared there out of nowhere a few days back and now he wants to get to know you. Something like this never happened before, maybe he should just ignore it as well.

Finally, he got his courage up and decided to talk to you. With a book of his own in hand, he gets up to you, hoping he won't scare you away or become awkward all of a sudden in front of you.

He asks you about what books you recommend to him in the romance section and he is actually surprised to see how kindly you respond to him. But ignoring the small surprise, he just listens and nods along. Phrases as, "Oh, really? Yeah, I've also heard that one's good.", or "I've read that actually...", and a lot of "Okay, I'll keep that in mind."

He was really sweet to you as well, actually hoping you'll see him here more often whenever you visit the library for more books to read for your kid. And of course, Jason made sure to visit the place more often just to see you and read the books you recommended to him.

Eventually, he got to ask you out for a coffee date. But you declined, explaining you can't leave you kid alone for a longer time and apologise sincerely to him over and over again.

A kid? He was speechless for a moment before his heartbeat speeds up again. What the hell should he do? Is he even allowed to ask you out? After a brief explanation of your situation with your child, he relaxes and feels more hopeful again. In reality, he wants to keep seeing you and meet the kid. He's been told he is good with them after all.

And the day came when you introduced Jason to your daughter. It was a peaceful evening spent at your apartment with you three spending time together with some board games. Your daughter soon grew on him and she was actually more than sad when he had to leave for the night.

So, basically it's hard to tell who Jason is more fond of. Of course he adores you for who you are but your kid is just another ray of sunshine.

TIM DRAKE

Tim rarely got out for his own enjoyment but he is glad he did so that one time, because now he has someone to crush on. As stupid as it sounds, it's also true.

When he first saw you, he didn't think much about it. Just a regular person who also likes comics and other 'nerdy' stuff. But when he saw you reach for the same comic he actually wanted for a longer while, that's when he had to go up to you and talk. Not that he'd do that to every other person, but it seemeed like a good idea at the time.

You were so sweet to him, you even offered to let him have it, but he quickly declined and instead settled on a casual date to show you his collection. But there was this problem...

After a week of texting together and even sharing a few flirty comments, he was sure this could work out. Until you mentioned your son.

At first, he thought you might be joking, but he soon found out that you were honest and he tried to not come off as a total douche since he has no idea about kids.

You both settled on just going for walks for now and you even went with your sweet little kid together. Tim was unsure of the situation and made sure to set boundaries and find out if you even want to keep seeing each other. Of course, for once, whatever God there is, listened to him.

He got more comfortable around your son and found out that most comics are for him. A six-year-old reading comics about aliens and complex alien-politics? Well... he wasn't better at his age.

Soon, they both became really good friends and even better friends with you. Although he was still hesitant to make a move on you.

Either way, he is also happy with just helping you out and being close friends, even when the kid manages to impress him with his immense knoweledge about comics.

←MASTERLIST

[denwritesandcries]

Fall(ing for You) – S.C

Pairing: sam carpenter x soft goth!reader

Summary: Sam is certain that Tara's new quiet friend may turn out to be Ghostface, unfortunately – or not –, that friend is you.

or, it takes the help of tara and a dog for sam to finally come to her senses.

Word count: 6,0k.

Content: scream 6 but without the killing, r's 23, cursing, wingman tara ft. yr dog, jokes abt r being ghostface, fluff, pining, sam falling first AND harder, silly movie references.

Note: hey guys, It's been a while since I've written for scream but I rewatched it recently and finally got some inspiration again! I describe the reader a little more in this but it won't really affect anything if you choose to ignore it.

English is not my first language.

Tara made a new friend.

Sam still isn't sure exactly, but the only plausible explanation for the way Tara has been acting lately is that her sister met someone interesting enough to keep her attention so that she gave everyone a break from her tantrums and reckless behavior since their new start outside of Woodsboro.

Now, that could be a good thing, it had been months since the kids started college and they were all doing relatively well. Mindy had Anika, Chad had Ethan and also there was Quinn, even though she wasn't very close to anyone. Tara should have someone too.

The problem is that Sam has no idea who this person is. Tara just won't tell her.

You see, Sam understands that she might have been a little too protective of her sister and that this made Tara's behavior become defensive towards her. Her new therapist – after she got rid of that quack – is helping her work through that, okay? But curiosity and worry were eating away at her insides. The curfews, the tasers and pepper sprays, and especially the ID checks were all important to keep them safe, dammit! Mindy and Chad had no problem with it, and it was only after all the appropriate measures were in place that Sam could breathe and let these new people be a part of their lives. Not knowing this so-called friend, let alone who they were, was driving her to the brink of a breakdown.

She was trying to give her some space, probing with subtle questions here and there and the most she got was an eye roll and ‘It’s just a sophomore I met at the film club, haven't you said I should try to be part of something that didn’t involve frat parties?’

Well, at least it wasn’t a boyfriend, given the lack of dreamy sighs, giggles into the phone and late-night escapades. That was good. They already had enough problems to deal with and a new relationship so quickly was the same as asking for a ghostface to go for them again and Sam hadn’t been back in Tara’s life long enough to know how to deal with this part of being a big sister yet.

Sam had understood that she wouldn’t meet this mysterious person for a while, at least until her sister’s tantrum had passed, and between two shitty jobs and trying to keep a structured life being responsible for a bunch of teenagers in the big city, she couldn’t find it in herself to insist on the subject any further and get the risk of causing a fight. She thought it would be forgotten.

Now just imagine Sam's surprise when she came home one night after a long, exhausting shift, expecting to eat the leftover pizza she had hidden in the fridge and fall into a deep sleep, only to be knocked over by an noisy and strange dog with a piece of pizza in its mouth as soon as she opened the apartment door. Her pizza.

“Koda!” Someone called. Someone unfamiliar. It wasn’t just the dog, there was a stranger in her house.

Sam’s hand instinctively moves to reach for the taser hidden in her jacket when a pair of black-clad legs show up in her vision. Does Ghostface work with dogs now? She wonders in confusion for a moment, and has given up on the voice changer?

The only thing stopping her from tasing this potential killer in front of her is the pure bewilderment and Tara’s laughter filling the room.

“Oh my god,” the figure bends down, picking up the dog who turns out to be a very excited puppy, the pizza falling from its mouth and onto her shirt, getting it all over her, “I’m so sorry.”

It’s a girl, a face she’s never seen before, looking completely mortified.

“Hey, Sam,” Tara stops beside her, a barely hidden tone of satisfaction in her voice, “This is my friend. I thought you’d like to meet her.”

It's safe to say that Sam didn't like Tara's new friend at all.

“You didn’t think about telling me you were bringing someone?” Sam exclaimed, rubbing her temples wearily, “Especially that Lydia Deetz project right there? I almost shocked her in the middle of the hallway!”

Quinn shifted from where she was leaning against the counter in the small impromptu meeting and didn’t bother to hold back her laugh, “Nah, I think Tara would fit that role better.”

“Quinn,” Sam groaned exasperatedly.

“If I had told you you would have said no,” Tara shrugged.

“Yes! Because we don’t know her!”

It was quite awkward sitting on the couch in their living room less than five feet away from the kitchen and being able to hear every word spoken as if you weren't right there, with your messy dog ​​happily chewing on the sock on your ankle.

This wasn't the turn you expected your night to take when you decided to accept Tara's sudden invitation for a movie night, visiting her off-campus for the first time since you became friends.

You met her at the start of the school year, the day she showed up for a film club meeting before anyone else arrived, well, anyone except you. She seemed completely lost and suspicious, even though she was clearly struggling not to show it, which made you like her right away.

Getting attention and starting conversations was never really your thing, this whole club thing wasn't either, honestly, but you ended up being one of the last older members to join with most of the others having recently graduated and the responsibility of looking after the new freshmans gradually fell on you. Most of the time you kept to yourself, preferring the behind-the-scenes side of things to participating in the long-winded debates of high school teens obsessed with slashers and making Stab parodies, but you noticed the way Tara seemed desperate for any sense of normalcy beneath her laid-back facade and the whispers of murder that haunted her.

You took what seemed like a rabid kitten under your wing and ended up cornered by the personification of a Doberman because of it. Talk about doing good deeds and stepping out of your comfort zone. What a joke.

Tara’s older sister, Sam, if you got it right, stared at you with narrowed, suspicious eyes – just like Tara when you first approached her – towering over your figure that tried to look smaller than it actually was on the couch, as if she was trying to learn every little hidden detail about you.

“So…” you began hesitantly, wanting to break the awkward silence that had ensued, “you have such a beautiful house.”

“Aren’t you too old to hangout with a freshmen?" Sam cut in coldly, one eyebrow perfectly arched in distrust.

You sighed, this conversation sure started off very well, “I’m 23,” you cleared your throat, “Tara’s in the same club as me, and I’ve just been helping her with some classes I used to take when I first started here.”

You hear Tara’s distinct chuckle, clearly amused by your frustration, which doesn’t help your situation much. What a wonderful friend, indeed.

Sam hummed with fake indifference and the other two housemates watched the exchange intently, eyes darting between you like they were at a tennis match, amused by the sight of Sam trying to intimidate the poor unsuspecting twit that you were.

A great friend, for sure. Ugh, this is why you don’t sponsor obviously troubled kids.

It’s not like Sam Carpenter is really intimidating or scaring you out the way she seems to want to, she has bags under her eyes and a greasy pizza stain on her shirt and you’re a grown woman, for God’s sake! It’s just that it was extremely embarrassing to cause a scene like that, especially with someone who you really wanted to make a good first impression.

Interacting so much socially lately was becoming relatively exhausting and you expected it wouldn't become a thing, as you were feeling a bit overwhelmed by everything. You hoped this would be the last big meeting you had for a while. Tara had told you a lot about her sister, mainly about how it was a pain in the ass to always have someone hovering over her, but it was something you never took seriously because of the way she sounded when she talked about it, too loving for someone who hated the situation so much. No, Sam was important and Tara had insisted that you meet her after doing the same with the twins just a few days ago. You had carefully planned how it would happen, what clothes you would wear and what you would say and now your chance to make things right was ruined, the words seeming to have escaped you in a flash. You were reserved, quiet, small in the midst of so much hustle and bustle, used to watching everything go by from the safety of the shadows. Being a mouse was easy.

“Is that all you have to say?”

Less easy when caged with a lion.

“Look,” you tried again, silently squirming as your pup start sniffing Sam’s combat boots furiously as you stood to pick him up, “I really didn’t want to cause any trouble or misunderstanding, Tara called me earlier while I was walking this little guy and insisted it would be okay if I came over for a movie. I can leave now if you want to, I’m really sorry for… well, all of this.”

You noticed Sam's expression became conflicted, as if she didn't know exactly what to make of you standing in the middle of her living room without showing any threat and wasn't used to people actually listening to her on sight. Still, she wasn't going to give up that easily.

“Great,” Sam nodded, her voice sounding less firm, “go then.” She pointed directly at your dog, now sitting at her feet with its fluffy head tilted to the side in a guiltily innocent manner, “And make sure to take that pizza thief with you.”

(You swear he looked personally offended.)

“What? No!” Tara seemed to realize that her little game could backfire and came out from behind the counter in your defense.

“Tara—”

“Come on, Sam, it's movie night!” She stomped her foot loudly, “I refused the invite to Jason's party for that, we were marathoning all the Texas Chainsaw Massacres!”

You don’t even have to be good at reading people to know that Sam had lost that fight the moment Tara looked at her with pleading eyes, knowing that there was no way to blame her for simply doing what she asked.

That didn’t stop Sam from rolling her eyes and huffing in irritation.

“Fine,” she practically growled, shifting her attention back to you, “But I’m gonna keep an eye on you, so you better not act all smart and keep that fleabag away from me.”

“His name’s Koda.” You pointed out, before softening, “And thank you, I promise I’m not gonna—”

“Shush.”

Sam was sure this was all part of an act of yours, just the first step to infiltrate their lives and pull the rug out like others have done before, because no one in their right mind would sit quietly next to someone who nearly shocked and threatened them in many ways just a few minutes ago.

Especially if that someone is burning holes in your head with their eyes, like she's doing now.

Sam watches shamelessly and intrigued, shooting daggers at your figure as you lean back with Tara babbling enthusiastically between you, your puppy completely knocked out on her lap, oblivious to the sounds of death and fake blood spurting from the TV. She notices the way you effectively ignore her, responding to Tara’s remarks with genuine interest, even if your voice doesn’t match her enthusiasm.

You remained quiet beyond those moments and the tiredness along with your lack of sudden movements made Sam feel secure enough to leave the room and finally take a shower – because along with everything she never saw much fun in these movies like Tara –, warning you that it was better for everyone to finish the night when the movie ended.

(She also forced Quinn to take her place on the couch and promise to scream if anything happened. You didn't comment on that either.)

Sam only falls asleep when she hears the sounds of goodbyes coming from the living room and the door house being closed, finally relaxing after all the interaction, deciding that it was enough. You could have been at her house, but that doesn't mean she would let you come over again.

You come back, because of course Tara doesn’t give a damn about Sam’s warnings about being careful around strangers – incessantly claiming that you’re not a stranger – and there you are at the next game night that Chad insisted on making a tradition.

At least there’s no sign of the shirt-destroying furball this time and there are pizzas smelling good on the kitchen counter.

“‘Sup, Sam!” Chad greeted loudly as she walked through the door, waving excitedly from the couch, “We’re playin’ uno!”

Her eyes landed on you, who waved at her with a small, tight smile, awkwardly sandwiched between Anika and Ethan, the way you stood out among them so comical that Sam suppressed a snort. She decided to join in without much protest, someone responsible still had to watch you, after all.

Sam wouldn’t admit to anyone, absolutely anyone, that she was enjoying the evening, listening to the heated exchanges as everyone got competitive. Strangely, she noticed that you didn’t try to engage much in the conversation, just like the other night, seeming happy to just be there. She thought you had been withdrawn then because of her behavior towards you, but maybe you were just shy.

That made her raise an eyebrow, Tara didn’t usually embrace introverts. Actually, she had always been pretty popular even before Sam left, if she remembered correctly, so this was new. She felt a small piece of curiosity spark inside her instead of more mistrust as she expected and it disconcerted her.

“The whole point of the 7 card is that you're not supposed to talk, man!” Mindy throwing chips at Ethan interrupted Sam's flow of thoughts.

“This rule is stupid! The manual doesn't even mention it, read it for yourself!” Ethan shuffled the cards wildly – ​​everyone at the table had seen his hand – pointing, “And you’re talking too!”

“Whatever! Nobody reads the fuckin manual to play uno, Ethan!”

Tara groaned, “Guys, just shut up and everybody buys a card.”

“But that’s not how you play!”

She decided to abandon the game and all the fuss in favor of getting some air and a slice of pizza and was surprised to find that her favorite was still untouched, which was a miracle in such a crowded house.

“Tara said that you liked this flavor,” your voice coming from nearby startled her and Sam saw you gesture to the box in front of her, “My treat, for the other day.”

She cleared her throat hesitantly, “You didn’t have to.”

“I did,” you dismissed with a wider smile, “My dog ​​left you without dinner.”

Sam didn’t respond, but you leaned against the counter next to her anyway, picking at the dark polish on your nails casually, listening to your friends arguing in the background.

“Get tired of the crowd?” Sam asked, deciding that ignoring you wasn’t an option since you clearly weren’t leaving.

“Yeah,” you agreed, shrugging with an odd laugh, “I guess I’ve had enough socializing for one day.”

Sam wasn’t sure why she didn’t just send you away then, seizing the perfect chance to dismiss you like she’d wanted all along and avail everyone's presence to remind that you weren’t welcome, but that strange spark flared in her and made her smile unconsciously, more sincere than the previous tense ones.

“Oh, I know what you mean,” she agreed slowly.

Your expression brightens in surprise, as if you expected a cold, blunt rejection or maybe a slap (probably both) and Sam feels a bit guilty by it. Sighing, she waves you towards the apartment’s tiny balcony, silently inviting you to join her, to which you respond with a firm nod as you watch her unwind the chain on the sliding door – they keep everything locked up tight now – and follow her.

Sam swears she’s not doing this to be nice or anything, all she wants is to repay you for your politeness, that’s all.

The night breeze is refreshing and sends pleasant shivers down your arms and shoulders as Sam leans against the railing and the two of you fall silent. It’s pleasant, actually.

Sam takes a moment to look at you, like, really look at you for the first time since you met and her breath hitches.

Your relaxed features look cheerful and are well-emphasized by the makeup you’re wearing – she tries to search her memory and gets frustrated when she can’t remember if it’s the same style as the night you met – your hair blows a little in the wind and your clothes just fit. Every single thing about you seems to have been specially made to be this way, charming, beautiful.

Your elbow brushes hers in the small space as you lean in to better contemplate the dreary, empty New York sky and Sam’s skin is burning and she doesn’t understand why.

Sam didn’t realize, through all the haze of anger and suspicion and tantrum, until she was touching a pretty girl, that you were, in fact, a pretty girl.

Shit.

“You’re trying so hard not to like her that I’m getting embarrassed for you.”

It’s late. Everyone has already left, including you, who went early claiming you had to work the next morning. Tara should be in bed by now, but she’d be upset if Sam told her to do that, so she doesn’t say anything.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Sam dismisses, packing up the last of the leftover pizza to put in the fridge.

“But you do,” Tara hums smugly, stifling a yawn, “Just admit that you were wrong and that I’ve made a friend who’s not a potential serial killer. And that you might have a crush on her. I saw you two on the balcony.”

“It wasn’t like that,” she grumbles, “And I wasn’t wrong for being worried that you brought home a stranger without telling me, even if she’s not dangerous.”

“Ha!” Tara points out, “So you admit she’s no danger.”

Sam sighs tiredly, bringing a hand up to massage her temple, “She can keep coming over for movie nights or whatever if that’s what you're asking me.”

Tara cheered, jumping up from where she was sitting on the counter to finally go to sleep. She stopped just before turning the corner to her room.

“Seriously though,” she caught Sam’s attention, “You guys have more in common then you might think, that’s why I like her. I think you could too, if you get to know her better.”

“That’s impossible, Tar,” Sam says weary, looking at her sister with the most done expression, “I don’t ‘get to know’ anyone, I already have all the people I need in my life.”

“Maybe you’ll be surprised,” she shrugged, “It would be good for you anyway.”

Sam's approval was all Tara needed to make you a regular fixture in their lives and make movie nights an official thing. Sam usually walks in when they're in full swing, with the two of you deep in conversation about the completely random movie you decided to watch that day, and now she greets you back instead of ignoring like she did before and you look happier every time she does it openly.

She finds excuses to wander around the living room and kitchen when she hears Tara pause the tv for whatever reason, just so she doesn't leave you unsupervised in their house – it was still too early to rule out all the care, after all. It ends up making her feel kind of ridiculous, because, hell, she shouldn't have to make excuses to wander around her own house! But you guys talk during these moments, sometimes.

Sam learns more about you as time goes on, and she tells herself that it's just gathering information, that you're not friends at all, but she finds herself soaking up every bit of detail. What are you majoring in, how long have you been in town, if you live close to campus like most students or if you have roommates like them.

(Actually, when she thinks about it now, Sam probably sounded more like a maniac trying to find out where you live, but at least you didn’t call her out on it.)

Then movie nights are joined by study sessions that Tara insists on having as her first week of finals approaches, and you manage to convince Sam to let you bring your puppy too so he won’t be alone for so many hours and she can act a little more normal around you and have a conversation that doesn’t sound like a job interview. You tell her about the movies you like – which consist of more than just an extensive list of slashers like she initially assumed – in a loud and excited tone instead of your usual repressed one, and it stirs something inside her, which leads to several other facts. Your favorite color, what kind of music you like, what you do when her sister isn't dragging you somewhere, and why you decided to adopt a dog so young when you already had so many other responsibilities.

“He helps me not feel alone,” you replied, looking deep into her eyes, “my roommate graduated last year and moved out. I guess I couldn’t stand coming home to empty houses, you know? And he’s my guard dog, he takes care of me and I take care of him. The little guy might be small but knows how to do damage.”

She could relate to that, in part.

And then you start asking too, suddenly and Sam finds herself with a dilemma after so long avoiding your attempts to get to know her. She’d rather remain closed off.

But a trade isn’t a fair trade unless she gives you something back, is it? And you’ve been quenching her thirst for knowledge for a long time now, you gave her a lot.

So, during one night when you insist on helping her make dinner, she confides in you – somewhat reluctantly – that she really enjoys cooking, especially healthier meals. She doesn't look at you, nor does she say it clearly but still, you listen and Sam is surprised when she finds herself speaking.

“You really should ask her out.”

And of course, Tara is always close enough to raise an eyebrow with a knowing look at her on practically every occasion.

“I've told you already, it's not like that.”

“You're cuddling her dog right now.”

“Just so he stays quiet and doesn't disturb you two! Shouldn't you be studying, by the way?”

“Ugh, you’re so annoying.”

Sam can almost, almost admit that you're her friend too.

(Though she kinda wished it were a little more than that.)

Movie nights evolve into sleepovers, because Sam argues that it’s simply too late and dangerous for you to come back alone and she feels embarrassed – and guilty as much – when Quinn brings up that it has always been dangerous and she didn’t mind letting you go before, when she didn’t care about you.

Now there are some of your clothes in a drawer Tara set aside for you just like a colorful food bowl in the living room for your dog – Mindy jokes that it's theirs now – and there’s rarely a day that goes by where she doesn’t see you.

And when you don’t come over, Tara makes sure to remind her of how anxious she looks waiting for a knock on the door and how she lights up when you greet her first when you finally arrive.

“I swear that now she comes here more to see you than me.”

“You’re imagining things.”

“Yeah, sure,” she huffs, “And when are you gonna make a move again?”

“Never, Tara.”

Sam hasn't heard a thing about you in days. Tara said yesterday that you ended up getting really busy with a college project, preparing a presentation that, her sister quotes, 'needs to be perfect because public speaking is horrible and there's a big chance I'll embarrass myself.'

It's not that Sam asked, it's just that she doesn't text you often and Tara thought it would be convenient to talk about it out loud when she was on the phone with Mindy.

Anyway, it doesn't really matter, it's not like you two are close. You are Tara's friend. If it weren't for her, you two wouldn't even have a reason to see each other. There's no reason to be so stressed.

But she misses you anyway. She's having a shitty day at her shitty job and everything seems to go by even slower because Sam knows that when she gets home at night you probably won't be on the couch waiting with the soft smile she's grown accustomed to looking forward and if she has to deal with another group of rude teenagers she'll freak out.

The sound of the bell ringing at the entrance draws Sam’s attention back to the counter and she ends up face to face with the person who has been on her mind all day.

“Sam!” you approached with a tired smile, your dog wagging his tail happily on a leash in one hand and a paper bag in the other, “I was looking for you.”

You'd never visited her at work before, she didn't even know you knew where it was, having only mentioned it in passing, but there you were, with the smile she wanted to see and bags under your eyes.

“Hi,” she cleared her throat, feeling her face heat up. Damn, she looked like a teen girl with a crush, “I didn't expect to see you here, what, uhm, what do you need?”

You snorted at her flustered attending voice. Seeing her show any kind of nervousness was very unusual.

“Tara called me today demanding I get out of the house for a bit and ‘touch some grass’, so I decided to bring this buddy along, he was begging me for a proper walk,” you shrugged, “And she asked me to bring your lunch.”

Sam paused at that, Tara definitely didn't make lunches for her, much less go to the trouble of delivering them like that.

“...Thank you,” she accepted the paper bag you held out delicately, eyeing the package suspiciously. You held back a giggle when she looked at you again, “Anything else?”

“Oh, um,” you shifted your weight from one foot to the other, obviously nervous, “I’m taking Koda to the park nearby and I thought maybe you’d like to come with us. If you can, of course.”

Sam couldn’t really, it was still a few hours before her shift ended at the coffee shop, but she didn’t want you to leave without the promise of seeing you again.

“Of course,” she found herself replying instead, “I can meet you there in a few minutes.”

She knew she’d made the right decision when you gifted her with one of your warm smiles.

“Okay! Nice,” you nod, absently twirling your dog’s leash around your fingers, startled by the sudden, loud bark he lets out at the delay, breaking the oblivious bubble you were in, “Alright, I should go before he starts trying to jump over the counter.”

Sam barely hears the sound of the bell announcing your departure over how loudly her heart pounds in her ears.

It takes a lot of willpower and her last pack of good cigarettes to convince her insufferable coworker — who’d watched the whole thing with a bored expression and loudly chewing gum while cleaning the coffee machine — to cover the rest of her shift. He ended up ordering her lunch too, thinking it might be something special, only to complain when he was met with a sad peanut butter and jelly sandwich and a carton of warm apple juice. Tara really didn’t cook… but then why had she done that?

(She laughed at him anyway.)

“You owe me, Carpenter,” he grumbled, taping a note to her arm that had fallen out of the package.

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever.”

Sam was out the door before he could change his mind.

Taking a deep breath of the damp autumn air, she picked up the yellow post-it note curiously, recognizing her sister’s handwriting immediately.

‘u looked so depressed lately that I

decided to send u a gift

DO something this time

good luck!!’

She knew. She fucking knew that smartass had set her up. Sam should have guessed it before. Tara would never let her get away with this without doing something with her own hands. At least she hadn’t brought Mindy into the scheme this time.

The park you had mentioned was more like a small square and with the rainy cold weather of the last few days, it was pretty empty. Sam could spot you without difficulty, sitting on one of the few benches watching the scenery and she made her presence known when she got close enough.

“Can he even sit still sometimes?” Sam asked, hands in her bomber jacket pockets, pointing with her chin at the dog playing alone on the grass. You moved a little so she could sit next to you and subtly moved closer when she did.

“It rained last night and he's a big fan of puddles,” you chuckled, “I guess he's just excited, we haven't been out much lately.”

He wasn't the puppy he'd been when Sam had first seen him a few months ago and the sight of him running around the trees chasing flowers and stray twigs was actually quite funny.

“He's so covered in mud that it looks like a bear.”

“Well, his name's Koda,” you pointed out amusedly, “I would have called him Pongo but he always looked more like a small bear than a dalmatian anyway.”

She snorted, “If you say so.”

Sam couldn't remember a time when she felt so relaxed, with the weight of your shoulder resting against hers, enjoying the weather of the early season, the ground covered in orange and yellow leaves framing your surroundings.

She couldn't stop the restlessness she felt inside her chest, watching your profile. Feeling warm inside, but also shivering with a terrible fear of ruining everything. Do something, do something, do something echoing like a mantra in her head.

Sam took a deep breath. She'd faced murderers before, for God's sake! She could be braver than that.

"So..." She coughed, "Tara set this up, you know? The lunch stuff and everything."

You turned your attention to Sam, raising an eyebrow with a confused look.

"She did?" You asked, "Why would she do that?"

It's now or never, Carpenter. Focus.

“She did it so I could see you,” she looked away, “Because I missed you. Because I…” She felt your hand reach for hers and noticed a fallen leaf on your shoulder.

“Because you…?” your voice echoed anxious. She could do this. She's going to do this.

“I—”

A loud howl scared the two of you and you turned to see Koda behind a pile of leaves, pupils dilated and jumping up and down.

“Oh no.”

“What?” She stammered.

“He saw a pigeon.”

You see, Sam is not a pet person. She has only had one guinea pig her entire life and only before her father left and a 6-year-old Tara let it escape from its cage never to be seen again – poor Darwin would always be remembered – she does not know how to handle dogs, much less big, excitable ones like yours.

Yet she grabs the leash from your hands when you finally reach your dog who won't stop barking at a tree and ignores your warnings that he is heavy and strong, Sam, it will end up dragging you away and tries to gently pull him to convince him to let go so you can get out of there. Because she is big and strong and she wants to show you that she can handle a mere happy dog.

He acknowledges her like she wanted and also drags her like you said he would.

This manages to surprise her more than the first stab wound she took, how one minute she’s standing still, telling your silly dog ​​to walk in a confident condescending tone, and the next she’s running at full speed through the trees and puddles of the park, your worried voice ringing behind her, as does your laughter.

“Sam!” you exclaimed from a distance, hands cupped around your mouth and dark red scarf falling from your neck, “You need to stop!”

She does stop, yes, but only after your dog has already circled her and Sam must be a ridiculous sight with a colorful leash wrapped around her legs and a dog panting with its tongue out next to her.

“Oh my god,” you lean in closer, unable to hide the amusement in your voice, “Are you okay?”

Sam huffed, feeling a strand of hair fall across her face: “A little help would be appreciated.”

“Sure,” you laughed, reaching out to carefully untangle it, “Maybe I should call him Pongo after all.”

She rolled her eyes: “Don’t mock me.”

“I’m not mocking you, it’s just cute.”

Sam opened her mouth to retort, only to realize how close you two were, with your hands resting on her shoulders to steady her and your faces just inches apart, your breath tickling her skin. You seemed to realize the same thing, tongue coming out to wet your lips, your gaze fixed on her mouth.

Do something. Do something. Do something.

She finally does something. She kisses you.

It's all a mix of sensations, she feels when you sigh, breathing through your nose in surprise and satisfaction, she feels where your hands tighten on the fabric of her jacket and tastes you, warm lips contrasting with the cold skin of your cheeks, with traces of coffee, lipstick and something else so undeniably you that Sam swears her heart might stop.

You pull apart hesitantly, breathing fast, noses touching, eyes shining, and she feels herself falling, literally. Your dog jumps on your waist, demanding to be petted, and you fall, taking Sam with you.

Landing in a pile of leaves is more uncomfortable than the movies make it out to be, but Sam can’t find it in herself to protest when you’re the one on top of her. She smiles and you laugh out loud. She didn’t mess up.

“You’re covered in leaves,” you say, running your fingers through her hair, “And your face is smeared with black lipstick.”

She scoffs, “I wonder who’s responsible for that.”

“He is,” you point innocently at the dog standing next to you.

Sam rolls her eyes, but cups your face with her cold hands to pull you close again, and the second kiss she gives you is just as magical as the first.

Tara doesn’t expect to find a dog taking up the entire couch for the first time in days when she comes back from Chad’s dorm after sending you off on a fake mission to find her sister. Yet, hours later, there it is, with one of the sneakers she forgot to put away when she got home from class stuck in his mouth and trails of mud and leaves across the room.

“C’mon, man, that’s not a toy!”

She hears a laugh and finds herself face to face with Sam, looking completely filthy despite the sound of the shower running in the hallway and Tara knows Quinn isn’t home yet. Oh.

“So, you finally did something?”

Sam nods solemnly, pointing to the dark kiss etched into her jaw.

“I did.”

[bruhnze]

Apple tarts and tiramisu - Part 5

Summary ''Apple tarts and tiramisu'': Lucy just moved to Barcelona, you offer to teach her Spanish. Reader gets into a relationship with Lucy Bronze who she met while she served her an apple tart.

Other parts: part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4

SMUT - MINORS DNI, Warnings: smut

Wordcount: 3k?

Long awaited part 5, hope you like it 🙃

Apple tarts and tiramisu - Part 5

´´Do you want to go back to yours?’’ you asked Lucy walking back to the car.

‘’Yeah I wanted to ask you that actually, because Narla comes home tomorrow morning’’ Lucy said ‘’but how did you know?’’.

‘’Oh I didn’t, but speaking about that, how come you only have a dog sometimes?’’ you asked her ‘’you have a dogsitter?’’

‘’uhm, yes, I also have a dogsitter’’ she cleared her throat and looked at the ground ‘’andishareNarlawithmyex'’ she coughed.

You laughed ‘’what?’’

‘’I share my dog with my ex’’ she said hesitantly.

‘’But you just got to spain’’ you joked ‘’already have an ex here who you have shared custody with? Damn you really do move fast’’.

Lucy laughed now too ‘’damn that would be crazy, no I actually move quite slow normally, but ehm, the ex is also from England, and ehrrm… god this sounds bad, but it isn’t.. she moved to Barcelona too,.. she’s in the same team.. we… our… no.’’. She thought and collected herself again and said ‘’her and my transfers were already a done deal when we broke up.. we broke up on good terms.. and we both share the opinion that our career went before everything and we just professionally work together.. and the dog is mine actually but I just.. she asked If Narla could stay at hers every now and then too and now it just turned into one week at mine and the other week at hers and so on’’.

‘’Okay’’ you stated ‘’and what is her name?’’

‘’oh ehm, Keira’’ Lucy looked at you trying to read you.

You smiled ‘’its okay Lucy, ofcourse you have exes, me too, it’s normal’’ you said reinsuring ‘’but what is her last name?’’

‘’Walsh’’ she frowned ‘’why? Your not go-

‘’Was she number 21?’’ and then you heard what Lucy had tried to say ‘’God no, i was just curious who it was’’.

‘’yeah the number 21 indeed, midfielder, sorry’’

‘’Ah! She was pretty good right, she’s didn’t lose the ball once and she , what’s it called, yfs/n was pretty excited about it, when she put the ball through the other players legs?’’’

‘’gave a nutmeg?’’

You laughed ‘’I guess, but my friend said it in Spanish so I don’t know''.

''Your so silly, i can't believe you don't know anything about football''. Lucy giggled.

You shrugged your shoulders ''anyways your place it is then’’.

Lucy opened the door from the car for you ‘’mhmm, but why did you want to go there?’’

You gave her a quick kiss ‘’no reason’’ you smirked.

..

She had put on some Spanish music in the car and you were sure she had been influenced by her teammates because it were songs you and your friends enjoyed.

Friends that you probably neglected a bit the last few weeks. That made you think about yfs/n and the fact that she had probably known Lucy’s ex was in her team, as she also knew about Putellas’ personal life and some other players.

Lucy’s hand was back on your knee, just like during the drive on the way to the restaurant.

You got your phone and texted your friend, also sharing the fact you had a girlfriend now.

Your best friend was happy for you and about the ex she texted that she had thought that was something for Lucy to share with you.

@bestfriend: are you with her now?

@y/n: yeah driving back from the restaurant

@bestfriend: ah okay, otherwise I would have called you, want to go to the gym tomorrow afternoon? bcs I need you to tell me everything about how she asked u

@y/n: yh tmrr works, btw also got a crazy story to tell involving my mom💀💀

@bestfriend: okay im curious, your not mad right?

@y/n: no about what?

@bestfriend: that I hadn’t said anything?

@y/n: ohh no, I don’t even think I mind that she works with her ex, idk just hadn’t expected it and was surprised to find out now, when you had told me about a few other players personal lives, so I thought, did you know or did you not know, and if you knew why didn’t you tell me.. but ig I get what u meant about Lucy telling me.

@bestfriend: just so you know you are hotter tho

@y/n: thanks but that’s not nice to say!!

@bestfriend: truth is harsh sometimes xx

@bestfriend: love you always

@bestfriend: now go kiss some abs

@y/n: 🙄

You chuckled at your phone.

Lucy looked at you curious. You cleared your throath ‘’I’m sorry, my friend was being dumb’’

‘’what did she say?’’ Lucy asked smiling.

‘’Oh nothing’’ you blushed ‘’just yfs/n, she is happy for us’’.

Lucy smiled ‘’already told yfs/n?’’

‘’Oh’’ you looked surprised ‘’is it secret that were together?’’

‘’no no’’ Lucy rubbed her thumb over your skin ‘’it’s cute’’  ‘’but speaking about that subject, I think it is maybe wise to keep everything away from the public, the media can be cruel, but..´´ she gulped ´´some fans are even worse, and I don´t want you to have to deal with that´´.

´´Yeah I get that´´ you said putting your hand on top of hers ´´but I would like to meet your friends and family too eventually´´.

´´ohhh yess, I can´t wait´´ Lucy smile was back ´´that is going to happen ofcourse, that´s got nothing to do with keeping our life private... anddddd i also still have to meet your dad´.

´´Still?´´ you chuckled ´´it´s been´´ you looked at the time ´´maybe an hour since we´ve been together´´.

...

////

In the elevator the two of you pursued your usual elevator activity; kissing. It felt like that had become the standard routine whenever the two of you stood in the small mirrored space.

‘’you know why I wanted to go to yours’’ you seductively said in her ear.  

‘’no’’

‘’because the other day you brought something over to mine and-‘’

You kissed her neck.

‘’have been thinking about it ever since’’

Lucy gulped, thinking about the strap-on she had brought last week. ‘’yeah, did you like that?’’.

''Mhmm, very'' you said, already getting turned on from anticipation.

..

She stumbled trying to open the door while you leaned against her back, reaching around her tugging her blouse out of her pants.

As you felt up her stomach Lucy abruptly stopped and turned around between you arms, she grabbed your wrists.

‘’Nuh uh’’ Lucy said with a smug face ‘’you wait here, like this’’ she walked you a step back and crossed your arms. ‘’and i will open the door’’.

You thought it was funny how she used dominance to take control of a situation where you clearly distracted her so much she couldn’t open a door. But you didn't laugh because this had been the mood you wanted to put her in.

''Okay come in pretty girl'' Lucy said already halfway into the hallway.

As you walked in to the apartment you were hit by a wall of cold air.

''jodidamente frio'' (ugh very cold) you scuffed out rubbing your arms, ''Lucy why are we in Antartica''.

Lucy came back to the hallway were you were taking you shoes of, ''sorry for the cold, forgot the AC apparently''.

''left in a rush?''

Lucy laughed ''yeah, had to pick a pretty girl up, couldn't leave her waiting''.

You pushed her chest ''nah she wasn't waiting''

Lucy fake gasped ''she wasn't?''.

''Nope'' you shook your head with your eyes closed.

''hmm i heard some different things, i heard she couldn't wait to get dinner over with'' Lucy said cocky.

You looked at her questioning ''really who said that?''

''She told me herself'' she wispered in your ear ''she couldn't wait to be fucked again''.

You gulped ''oh yeah, maybe you should listen to her, sounds like she knows what's up''.

''I don't know'' Lucy teased ''i mean this morning was already quite an active morning and she told me her stamina aint that good''.

''im not tired at all'' you sputterd.

She held her face away from you a bit and you spotted the grin she was wearing. ''Okay'' Lucy said ''but we'll take it slow, i want to show you how much i love you''.

You sighed internally, you had planned for a different night with a more dominant Lucy, but i guess you could work with this too. You just had to recalibrate yourself for a second and you made an internal note to research how to get the dominant side out of her, because you knew she had it and was dying to meet her.

////

In the bedroom Lucy unzipped your dress, slowly kissing down you back. ''your so pretty y/n, i love you''.

You got goosebumps all over your body, okay maybe this wasn't too bad either you thought.

You stepped out of your dress, leaving you only in a thong. Lucy rubbed your sides to your hips where her hands continued to rest. She pressed herself against you and gathered all your hair in her hand and placed it over your left shoulder before she started placing soft open mouth kisses on your neck.

"Luce" you intertwined your fingers with hers and pulled them over your breasts, making her cup them.

''mmh'' she murmered against you shoulder where she had now reached with her kisses ''not so fast, go lay on the bed for me bub''.

You let go of her hands and laid down "you are wearing to much".

''Jeez'' Lucy laughed ''patience baby patience, I can't go that fast and I don't want to go fast, but I promise you'll get what you want''.

A blushed took over your cheeks, you didn't know what had gotten in to you, you got the realisation that Lucy made you so horny, no one had ever effected you like that, you thought about the recent weeks and how much sex you'd had and even next to that how much you had thought about it.

While you had been thinking Lucy was getting rid of her clothes. She looked at you concerned ''what are you thinking about?'' she asked you softly.

You blinked, ''oh sorry my thoughts wandered off for a second , i just, i'm so very attracked to you''.

''so you resort to your thoughts eventhough im standing right here?'' she chuckled.

''to be honest, yes'' you chuckled aswell ''I've built up quite a good mental stock lately, some pretty nice images''. you said cheekily.

''oh yeah? do you think about me much?''

''yeah i was litteraly just thinking about how you are taking over my brain, i can't remember thinking off anything else these last weeks... i think i have a big crush''

Lucy smiled ''im so in love with you, i totaly get what your saying, i feel the same''.

...

Lucy pinned you to the bed with her own body, she had put on the strap you had been longing for and was now softly kissing you as she leaned on her arms, not wanting to put to much weight on you.

You squeezed her biceps and

travelled up with your hands to her shoulders, then her back.

You loved her muscles, you had never been with someone this strong and you had never seen a women pull muscles off as good as Lucy did, she was very astheticly pleasing.

Trying to deepen the kiss you pulled her closer to you, resulting in her whole body brushing against yours.

Lucy moaned as her nipples brushed along your skin. She pulled back from the kiss and went to your neck.

With a combination of tongue and teeth she gave attention to every inch of your neck and jaw. Trying to figure out the points the made you squirm.

The attachment between her legs pushed against you when she moved her hips trying to reach further back your neck.

A shiver of arousal ran down your spine and instinctively you tried to grind against her.

''Not yet baby'' she murmurred against your skin ''i want to kiss every part of your body'' she sighed ''your so beautifull''.

The air that left her mouth when she spoke tickled against the wet spots in your neck.

''Luce, i need you''' you whimpered at the idea of waiting much longer, feeling the sogginess between your legs and your aching empty hole, waiting to be filled.

She smirked as she sat up, and took your hands, pulling them above your head.

Lucy kissed the inside of your arm, making you get goosebumps ''already begging me?''

''yes Luce, please''

''but i want to taste you babe, all of you, can you be good for me and let me kiss you'' she gave more kisses, now to your other arm.

Her words made you moan ''kiss me then, but don't take your time''.

Lucy giggled as she went on.

..

After she had called every part of your body beautiful, littering it with kisses, even leaving some marks on your neck and chest, she had finally arrived at your hips, very close to the place you needed her most.

''My beautiful girl'' she hummed in between kisses.

You couldn't handle it anymore and were so turned on that your brain almost short-circuited. Your hands pushed her head lower.

You felt her lips against your skin in a smile. She placed soft kisses on your lips and then went back to your groin, licking and biting softly, placing another mark ''all mine'' she groaned.

Her tongue licked along your slit, making you gasp out a moan.

Your hand tightened in her hair and she lapped at you a couple more times before pulling back.

The head you had just dropped on the pillow with your eyes closed shot back up and you looked at Lucy.

''So needy'' she smirked.

''only for you'' you cried out below your breath.

''What's that?''

''you make me crazy Lucy, please-''

Lucy placed her tongue back on you still looking you in the eyes.

''fuck'' ''yeah like-

She started sucking your clit, a moan escaped your throat.

After a bit she got up and hovered infront of your face ''do you want to taste how good you taste?''.

You groaned but accepted the kiss, your taste on her tongue made you moan into her mouth, you couldn't believe how long she was taking but you had to admitt she was fucking amazing at what she did.

''What did you want me to call you again?'' Lucy asked cheeky.

You blushed ''a slut?''

''i think you are being a bit of a slutty girl right now, aren't you? so desperate for my cock''.

You pulled her closer for another kiss but she held back ''i can feel you pulsate against me, all for me?''

''yes'' you moaned ''only you Lucy, i have never thought about sex this much in my life, nor did i have so much sex as i did these last weeks''.

''hmmm'' Lucy moaned in your neck ''thats right, your such a slut for my cock, aren't you? are you gonna take me so well''

''y- yeah''

Gently she guided the strap with one of her hands to your opening, lining it up with the ring of muscle that was waiting to be entered.

Lucy looked you in your eyes as she slowly put the tip in. Your head fell back as the feeling flushed over your body.

With the head of the dick Lucy fucked you gently. It was not enough for you ''Lucy, more''.

''you need more slutty girl? want me to fill you up?'' Lucy purred ''such a good girl for telling me''.

Lucy bottomed out in you, making your eyes roll back. Finally experiencing the exact thing again you had been longing for the last days.

''Feel good pretty girl?''

You could only moan in response, the build up had been so intens that you were on the verge of cumming already, not even needing more stimulance.

You wrapped your legs around Lucy, bringing her closer to you. She held one arm around your shoulder and put the other hand behind your neck, pulling you in for a kiss.

The ritm felt so good you thought you didn't have enough oxygen to kiss Lucy back.

Nails dug into Lucy's back making her pull back a bit ''i- im so c-close''.

She looked into your eyes as she kept thrusting in to you, remaining the pace she had ''come for me pretty girl, show me how good that feels''.

With a few more thrusts the high flushed through your body, it was an intens but short orgasm.

You let moans and cries escape your body as Lucy slowly came down to a stop and pulled out.

She kissed your face, "you look so pretty like this".

You gave a weak smile "cuddle me?"

"Ofcourse pretty girl"

...

////

The next morning Lucy and you woke up from the doorbell.

Lucy jumped out of bed and put on a jumper and some joggers, without having time to search for underwear.

''Heyy'' you overheard as Lucy had opened the door and waited for Keira to come upstairs. You were still laying in the bed.

''Hey Lucy, here she is, she hasn't eaten yet, but i did walk her, she was a very good girl as usual''.

''Thanks, i'll see you later''

''Yes, see you this afternoon, had a good weekend?''

''yeah very, did you?''

''yeah, i wanted to tell you i'm dating someone again, i don't know why but just wanted you to know, she's German and she was with me this weekend, Narla liked her a lot so it was all good''.

''Okay, nice, i'm happy for you, i actually have been dating someone too'' you heared Lucy say ''asked her to be my girlfriend yesterday actually''.

''ah congrats, thought you looked happier lately''

''Thanks Kei''

''Okay see you later!'' ''and bye Narla, mommy will see you next week''.

''go on, say bye Narla''

You heared the door shut and a sound of nails on the floor coming your way.

The cute white dog you had seen and petted at the cafe a few times jumped on the bed.

''Like she knew you were here'' Lucy giggled at the sight of you getting licked in the face.

''Narla, get off her'' Narla oblidged as her owner put on a stern voice.

Lucy sat down next to you in bed ''goodmorning, sorry you got woken up like this, forgot to set the alarm yesterday''.

''Nah it's fine, you told me yesterday so it wasn't unexpected'' you laughed as you were petting Narla ''such a cutie, aren't you such a good doggie''.

''She likes you'' Lucy said.

You laughed ''Narla likes everyone Luce, but thanks''.

Lucy kissed your cheek ''but she doesn't come up running to lick everyones face''.

''Yeah but maybe if they would be the one handing her cups of whipped cream she would''.

Lucy laughed ''yeah okay, you did some good bribery'', ''i'm happy to though, cause if Narla didn't like you it would've been a problem''.

''Oh?''

''Yep, she's the most important thing to me on the whole world.'' ''but she likes you so we're good''.

You laughed and turned yourself to Narla and said in a high voice, "Then I'll just have to keep spoiling you, don't i little doggie."

----

That concludes part 5! Hope it was good, sorry it took a bit longer this time..

Anyone got suggestions for part 6?

more parts

[sunflowersbones]

High Fidelity

Warnings: This fic will contain DUB-CON/NON-CON, Manipulative behavior, Spanking, Somnophilia. My warnings are not exhaustive, proceed at your own risk.

[STEVE ROGERS x reader]

Summary: The captain has unwritten rules laid out, ones you blindly follow. No questions asked, only orders followed. You’re like a loyal dog at his feet, ready to obey his every whim and command; only that you don’t realize how close your collar is to strangulation, and you're terrified that you won’t learn your lesson even when it snaps your neck.

NOTE: I suppose this could be my kinktober fic! Happy Autumn. Reblogs and comments are really appreciated, this is tumblr after all. I hope you enjoy!.

DIVIDERS: @writeyourmindaway l BANNERS: @vase-of-lilies

*

You look out of the window as the sun shines through, lightening up the break room. The slight bitterness of the last remains of your coffee mellow on your tongue as you start preparing it for the others. You make his at the end to ensure that it remains warm until he drinks it. An Americano, with three cubes of sugar. Just the way he likes it; you can only hope that he’s appeased by your attempts, even if it’s not much.

You walk back to the conference room, one hand balancing the coffee and the other carrying a few files Pepper needs. Your life as Pepper’s assistant involves having to clean up everything for her as well as for Tony. Well, more for Tony than Pepper.

As you walk through the corridor, you hear the regular good morning charades. You smile and nod too tired to say anything as your eyes beg you to get some sleep. Tony’s plethora of mishaps as of recently has only increased your work load. This boy leaves around more paperwork than Pepper can handle.

While work can be strenuous at times, you’re extremely grateful for what you have. Who wouldn’t want to work for Stark Internationals and… you got to meet him, talk to him, get to know him, and you wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.

“Ahh, there she is; we were wondering where our coffee monkey is.” You hear Tony chime.

“What he means is, good morning, Y/N.” Pepper snorts.

“Morning Pepper, Tony, everybody. Pepper, the files you needed.”

“Oh, thank you!.”

Most of them flock around you to get their hands on the coffee, but Sam and Tony beat them to it, like indecent children. The only ones with a little decency are Pepper, Nat, Bucky, and, of course, Steve.

You walk over to Nat and Bucky after you give Pepper hers. Both utter a small thank you as you give them theirs. You slowly turn around and place Steve’s cup near him on the table. He barely acknowledges you, his eyes concentrated on the file in his hand. You’ve always admired that; his ability to never get distracted from what he deems important—you could only wish to have such discipline.

You bask in his scent for a few seconds and immediately leave. You hope nobody caught you staring; you tend to do that a lot. If they knew, they’d make fun of you for being such a love-sick fool.

You finish entering all of last week's finances when you see him approach you. You avert your eyes immediately; to avoid too much eye contact is something he insists upon. You stare at your computer as you type in a few more numbers.

He clears his throat as he stands in front of you, a file in his hand.

“Hello captain.”

“Pepper wanted to return this to you.” He says as he extends the file to you.

“Oh yes, I’ll need this for...,” you stop as you realise he’s barely listening. You see him look around to make sure no one is nearby as he turns to you.

“You didn’t stop by yesterday.” His tone was laced with disappointment.

“I… I didn’t leave office until late, and I had to come back early; there was a lot of work left.” You wait for him to say something but soon realise he’s not going to. His face is as clam as ever, yet his eyes seem to be throwing a reproachful look at you.

“You’d just arrived from a mission too; I assumed you might be tired.”

"Yeah, I was; don’t you think that’s when I need you the most?” He whispers.

“I’m sorry, you never said anything, and I—

“Do I have to? After all this time.” You feel your heart clench at his accusation.

“I’m sorry, Steve.”

He stares at you for a few seconds, and you feel yourself shrink at his presence.

“I should leave; you’re not the only one with work here.” Before you could say anything, he’s gone, only the echo of his footsteps left behind.

The whole day passes by uneventfully, and Steve’s words stung. You tried to immerse yourself with work, but your mind seemed inclined to relive your conversation from the morning. You really hadn’t meant to upset him.

At about nine, you receive a text from Steve.

“Stop by tonight.”

Simple and direct your conversations never went past that. You still have some more work left, but you don’t want to upset him any further, so you pack your stuff and decide to head to his room.

You wish that Steve would come over to your place instead; having to sneak around like this can be really difficult at times. If it were your place, there’s nothing to worry about—nobody to catch you. But now... does he not think of these things?, you wonder.

You’re not particularly afraid of the others finding out, considering Pepper and Tony have themselves breached the professionalism code of conduct. Nat and Bruce are on their way to; there’s nothing new about finding love at the workplace, right?

You’re more worried about how he’s going to react when people find out; you really didn’t want to deal with the burn of something you could have avoided.

As you turn around the right corner, your heart jumps out of your body as your eyes meet a pair of questioning blue ones.

“Why haven’t you left yet; isn’t it late?” Bucky enquires; he seems to have changed into his workout attire, his hands warped in bandages. Who works out at this hour? You ponder. He seems to have read your mind through your face as he answers, saving you the trouble.

“Couldn’t sleep; thought I’d punch some of the energy out.”

“So, why are you still here?”

“Uhh work, there were a lot of emails and I lost track of time.” He gives you an understanding nod. His mouth slightly parts to say something but then thinks better of it. You move around to pass through, when he suddenly says, “I’ll walk you out.”

“Oh, it’s ok. I wouldn’t want to ruin your workout.”

“You won’t. I’ll walk you to your car and then head to the gym.”

“Really I — But, before you can finish, he turns back towards the elevator and presses the button. The doors swing open, and he steps inside, leaving you no choice but to follow.

Bucky leans onto the side, pressing himself to the cool glass walls as you stand rigid on the opposite side. You don’t think you’ve ever been alone with him before or this close to him. Now that you notice it, he’s built quite a lot like Steve, although Steve might be a tad bit taller or it could just be the hair.

You quickly avert your eyes as he catches you staring at him. He clears his throat as he says, “You really shouldn’t be working so late, Y/N; it’s not healthy, you know.”

“Overworking will only make things more difficult in the future; Pepper wouldn’t want that for her favourite employee.”

You chuckle at that, “I’m not Pepper's favourite employee.”

“Of course you are; she couldn’t manage a day without you. She’s always praising you.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, plus we like having our morning coffee, and you’re the only one who’s kind enough to get it for us.”

“Oh, it’s nothing, really.” You smile back.

“Still, thank you. We really appreciate it.” He says, a slight smile warming up his face.

The lift arrives at the parking lot, and you get out of it into the well-lit space. The cluster of cars overwhelming you as you look around in search of yours, lost in the myriad of similar-looking vehicles.

“Well… Thank you for acknowledging it, Mr. Barn—

“Bucky.” He cuts you to it, his voice carrying a timber of shyness.

“Bucky.” Your whisper back, happy at the aspect of knowing that after all, maybe the supersoldier doesn’t despise you. You don’t know why you ever worried about that; your communication with each other might have been limited, but he was never anything but kind and respectful.

You say your final good-byes and walk towards your vehicle. You open it and get inside, fumbling with your key, hoping that he would leave soon. You did not want to actually leave the building for the pretence of it.

You turn your key around, the car engine roaring at you. You look over ahead to see Bucky turning around to ride up the elevator again. You decide to stay put for some more time. You don’t want to ride the elevator just yet. What if he hasn’t left?

If you get caught again, you have no excuses left. So you stay put for a good 40 minutes before you make your way up. Bucky’s bound to be in the gym by now.

You slowly sneak towards his room, heels in your hand, to avoid the loud tenor of its click-clacking. You arrive at his front door and repeat the pattern twice. A knock-pause, followed by two rapid knocks. You’re received by silence, and you grow a little uneasy. What if someone shows up? What will you say? Was he really that mad?

You repeat the knock again and pause for a few seconds. The door swings open, and your breath hitch’s at the sight in front of you. He has a towel wrapped around his hip, his hair wet as the droplets still cling on to him. His face and body; glistening. There’s a frown etched between his eyebrows as he stares at you.

“You’re late.”

“I was—before you can finish, his hand extends to latch on to your belt as he pulls you in. He shuts the door close as he presses you against it; you feel your entire face heat up. You’ve seen him naked so many times, yet you can’t help but ogle at him and admire him every time you see him.

Every time he needs you, there’s a bloom in your heart that radiates through your whole body. One that just wants him near you, on you, inside you. And you just want to be there for him whenever, wherever, however he wants you to be.

He gives you a questioning gaze as you mumble. “Bucky kinda noticed that I hadn’t left yet, so I had to play around a little.” His frown still remains as you let out a “Sorry.” His hand moves around you to lock the door, the sound of it synchronising with a beat of your heart. His hand moves to rest on your lower back; it curves around you and pushes you towards him. Your breasts press tightly against his chest as he traps you between him and the door. He presses his mouth on to yours as he kisses you; it's messy, all teeth and tongue. His desperation seeps through you as you feel yourself get wet.

You feel his hard length against your core as he presses his hip to yours. You let out a loud moan, your head leans back onto the door as you attempt to take in shallow breaths. He moves his face ever so slightly to look at you as he moves his hips back and thrusts into you with a force that knocks the wind out of you. You gasp at that as he adorns a devious smirk.

His hand travels down your thigh, he lifts it up and hooks it around his hip, spreading you apart as he nestles in between you.

“Been thinking about this pretty cunt, the whole time I was away.” He whispers into your mouth. One of his hands travels under you skirt as he cups your core, his fingers maneuver around your underwear as he plays around with you.

“Well somebody’s excited.” He sighs out, hot breath fanning your face.

“On the bed, ass up, right now.” He sternly recites. Your body immediately moves on its own, pealing your clothes off of yourself. Anticipation overwhelming you as you lay down, just like he told you to. You can hear him pumping himself with the hand that was covered in your slick just a moment ago.

He climbs onto the bed behind you as his hands move to grope your ass. With a smooth clean thrust he slides himself inside you. He lets out a moan as you feel yourself clench around him. His right hand rear back and as he smacks you, you feel the sting pass through your entire body.

You bite your lips and start counting; you haven’t forgotten, the last time he made sure you won’t. “…3,4,5,6,” you feel hot tears well up you eyes, “…8,9.” His left arm gropes your titts and moves forward to your neck, he squeezes it as he yanks you back.

Your back collides with his chest and he increases his pace, thrusting into you. Your knees are falling apart and the only thing that makes sure you stay upright are his hands. Your own hand maneuvers back to play with his hair, you ruffle your fingers through the short strands and slowly scratch his head. His eyes shut close as his breath falters and his thrusts start to get sloppier. You press yourself even closer to him as you tilt your head sideways. You lean forward and place a light peck on his lips. He opens his eyes as his grip on you tightens at that, you’re sure that it’ll bruise by tomorrow morning.

He moves your upper body around uncomfortably so as his lips find yours. He growls into the kiss as he twists your body, you’re almost afraid that you’ll snap like a twig, but you felt reassurance course through you when you realize its him. You wouldn’t mind if it’s him but you also know that nothing would happen because it’s him; he would never hurt you, he would never hurt anybody. He is Captain America after all.

You feel yourself close and you cling on to him desperately. “Sir… sir, I’m clo—

“Hush, hush let go… just let go, I’ve got you.” You come apart around him as you clench him tighter and he closely follows you.

You fall on to the bed as exhaustion overcomes you. You can hear his soft, shallow breaths behind you as you close your eyes and focus on it. You feel him shift as he gets out of bed and leaves the room; he comes back a minute later carrying a bottle with him. His eyes are on you as you turn around to sit upright.

“Water?” he asks, his hand extended, his gaze never leaving you.

“Yes, please!” You timidly reply, your eyes finding the ground. You greedily drink up; you’d been parched, and you hadn’t even realised it.

He moves around to his bedside table and fiddles with the clock. With your thirst now quenched, you feel the soreness ripple through your body. You’re ready to drop right now; you don’t even want to think about the pile of work you’ll have to deal with in the morning. Some sleep would do you good, yet you know you’re not going to get any, simply by the way he stares at you. He’s waiting to rip that bottle out of your hands.

The minute you give him the bottle back, he’s on you. His entire weight pressed onto your aching body, his thrusts sending you to oblivion as he takes you over and over throughout the night.

You jump up as the alarm rings through your brain, the blaring noise annoying your ear just as its bright red numbers annoy your eyes. You absentmindedly notice that it's 4:00 am. You don’t have to turn around to know that he’s gone; the lack of warmth already suggests that. Not that you ever got a semblance of the next morning; you’re never privy to seeing his beautiful sleep-ridden form in the morning.

He’s always been punctual about his morning runs; they weren’t going to change for your sake. You pick up your clothes—the ones you’d scattered around, the ones he’s picked up and placed on his chair—and get dressed as you brace yourself for the day to come. At least he’s not far away on a mission; at least you don’t have to worry about how he’s doing, where he’s gone, or when he’ll come back, and you most definitely don’t have to worry about Tony’s inquisitive gazes as to why his assistant’s secretary would care about Steve Rogers.

The last time you chalked it up as concern for the team and worry about the authenticity of the Intel, but you won’t get such chances anymore, so you learn to apply patience into your daily regime. At least now you can take comfort in small glances and the echo of his voice; it fills your heart with a kind of warmth that you don’t think you can explain. Yet you know it; you recognise it. It blooms within you every time you see those baby blues.

Tony’s meetings have always brought a frown upon Steve’s brows; that wouldn’t surprise you, however the way he gazes at you does. It never lingers for more than a second, but now... you feel his gaze burn through you. You focus your attention on the second pair of eyes that have been longing for it as you hand over the cup of espresso to him.

“Thanks doll.” Bucky whispers back a nonchalant remark.

Steve’s eyes flick on to Bucky and then back to you. For a split second, his face hardens, but it immediately reverts back. His attention now back on the monitor in front of him.

“Hey, Steve, this is important, you know? It would be great if you were paying attention to what I’m saying instead of laser-eyeing my coffee monkey.” Tony quips.

All eyes are now on you, yet his remains stoned towards Tony. He gives him an unimpressed shrug, “You do have my attention, Tony.”

“Wait a sec, she gets everyone coffee, so why is she your coffee monkey?” Natasha asks, an eyebrow raised in your direction, “Shouldn’t she be our coffee monkey?” she smirks.

“Well, Nat,” Tony replies, “it’s my coffee, and she works for me, so...”

“First and foremost, she’s my assistant; second of all, she’s doing you guys a favor. She doesn’t have to do this. Now please stop hogging her and let her work.” Pepper tones suggest humour and a slight disappointed nod at Tony.

“Yeah, well, you work for me, Pepp, so technically everything’s mine.”

Tony squeaks out as the room breaks into smiles and low hollers. The attention is back on Tony now; you use this opportunity to escape. As you leave, you turn back slightly to look at Steve. Only to be met with his back towards you.

Once again, you leave work late. The workload these past few days has made taking care of yourself impossible. As you walk towards home, you mentally plan on what you should do to relax. Tomorrow is a Sunday, and you really want to spend some time for yourself. You turn around as you head in the direction of your apartment building and are momentarily surprised to find Steve perched up on his motorcycle.

He looks up at you, his eyes locked onto yours. Even a simple gaze from him brings a shiver down your spine. He walks into the building, and you quietly follow behind him. A part of you feels guilty for not lending him a key, but he never asked, and you didn’t want to seem overbearing. He moves towards the corner of the lift as you enter right behind him.

Even though it is quite late into the night, the overflow of people moving about was no less. You move over to the right to create space for the incoming group of people. An unbothered shove from the person in front of you pushes you back. Your body slightly leans towards him, his chest pressed to your back as his hands land on your hip, pulling you closer. You feel him hard against your ass, and you heave a shuttered breath.

While Steve has always been handsy, he never acted out in public. Although no one here recognised him, nor were there any cameras in the lift—unlike the all-seeing eyes of the stark tower—it still doesn’t help calm your nerves.

Your floor arrives shortly, and you weed your way out; however, you don’t see him behind you. You presume he’ll get out on another floor and descend the stairs. You slowly walk towards your apartment and unlock the door. You enter and switch on the lampshade in the hall, the low yellow colour dancing through the entire room.

You hear his heavy footsteps as you place your bag on the table. He enters and closes the door; his figure leans on to it as he lingers there for a few seconds, gazing at you.

Before you know it he moves forward in lightening speed. His hands find your body as he lifts you off of the ground. You wrap your legs around his hips as he hungrily kisses you. His right hand lands on your ass and he gropes a handful as his other hand squeezes the nape of your neck. You revel in the pleasure and slight pain he provides and you lightly bite his lips.

He places your body atop the table as he moves to nip at your neck. His hand rides up your thigh as he slowly drags your panties down. You hike your skirt up in an attempt to help him as your lips desperately try to latch itself on to his again.

He kisses you a few more times in an attempt to placate you before his arm pushes your upper body onto the table. He slightly bends his knees and leans over to lower his head in between your thighs.

His heated breath dances against your slick core, as he swipes his tongue over your folds. He laps from you hungrily as his hands tighten on your thigh; adjusting them.

“Please Steve.” You receive a slight bite on the inside of your thigh at that; a reminder.

“Captain. Sir, Please.” You moan a whimper out.

“Use your words sweetheart, what do you want?”

“I want you.”

“Yeah? What do you want me to do?”

“I want you to make me feel good.”

“Atta girl.” He whispers.

His tongue slightly licks your clit before sucking on it. You let out an embarrassingly loud moan as you move your hands over to run through his short Blond strands, you slowly massage his head and he pushes his face further into you.

You can barely handle it anymore as you let yourself go with a muffled scream and you nearly see stars around you. He moves his hand to the back of your hip as he stands straight and you know you’re not done for the day.

It’s been nearly three weeks, and he hasn’t said a word to you. Your lack of communication wasn’t anything new. But he hasn’t  come to you even once, and you know he’s here and not away on a mission; you’d seen him at the tower chatting away with almost anybody but you.

Sometimes you’d encounter the supersoldier pair in passing, Bucky was the only one who would stop by to greet you; your Blond-haired nightly companion would simply walk past you. You’re unsure if it’s his usual impassiveness or if you did something wrong again.

It could be really difficult when it came to Steve; he had high expectations but was never precise about what he wanted. A part of you loved it when you could figure it out on your own without him having to spell it out for you. But sometimes you couldn’t understand what it is that he wants. It angers and terrifies you; that’s when the dread settles in. You don’t want to admit it or acknowledge it even,though a small part of you is terrified of being discarded away.

By the fourth week, you finally found the courage to talk to him, only to find out that he’s been gone for about three days now. A part of you felt guilty that you hadn’t talked to him earlier, but another part of you knows that it was the better decision to make.

The days flit through in a gloom as you realise how disheartening expectation can be. The only positive side to your loneliness and boredom was the better sleep schedule you managed to incorporate into your routine. The depths of sleep now welcome you without much hesitation. 

You don’t really perceive the feeling of your bed dipping at the weight of another. Not even the feather-like touch of fingers skimming over your body. Sleep lulls you into a pleasant dreamscape; not even at the slight intrusion that your body felt could your mind understand anything.

It wasn’t until you felt his cock plunged into you that you truly registered what was happening. Your mind had just been in the cradle of sleep, and it felt like you had been snatched out of it. Your body felt trapped between the bed and the weight of the body pressed on top of you. The weight of it was the only thing you could focus on until the sting of him stretching you out coursed through your body.

You could hardly breathe; fear surges through you as your heartbeat increases. Your brain felt like it was on fire due to the sudden change your body felt.

The room was veiled in darkness except for the small shine of moonlight. Your eyes hadn’t been able to register to it in the beginning, but now they had become accustomed to it. You couldn’t decide if the sight in front of you put you at ease or if it alarmed you further.

It was the same blue eyes that you’d always longed to gaze at, the same glittery Blond hair that you long to touch, the same sharp nose, and the same clenched jaw. Except there was something in his eyes that terrified you, along with the dirt and blood that covered his face; his lip nearly torn apart. It almost felt like it wasn’t him, and your heart both feared and ached for him.

With a little more clarity now you notice the brushing of the sharp clothes against yours. He was still wearing his tactical suit; this— a first. Now that you think of it, you don’t ever remember him coming to you while wearing it; he’d never been desperate enough. You were a part of his leisure, not a need. Your hand moves to feel the shape and pattern with a sense of wonder.

He leans down to kiss you, the copper taste of his blood stinging your tongue. He bites on to your lip making you yelp; sure that now you’ve started to bleed too.

“Ahh ste— Steve, slow— slow down please.” You beg.

His hand moves to wrap itself around your throat as he slightly tightens his fingers around it. His pace not differing at the slightest. In fact, you're sure he’s slightly increased his pace.

“Talk to me... what’s wrong?” Your right arm moves up to hold his face as your thumb gets imprinted with his sweat and blood.

His gaze that had been on your lips this entire time, now flickers to your eyes as his pace slows a tiny bit.

“Just go to sleep.” The gravel of his voice a slight whisper.

You’re exhausted by him, and his voice lulls you even more; you feel the ceiling slowly blur. Your body moving along with the rhythm of the bed as you slowly fall asleep again.

A surprise party for Pepper's birthday would involve the utmost amount of planning done solely by you and the credit taken away by Tony. But the warm smile lingering on the strawberry Blond's face makes it all worth it.

The humdrum within the Stark tower makes you gleam inwardly; the initial stress and discomfort from the morning washed away. In fact, you had completely forgotten about him. The excitement of the party overtaking you—it felt so nice to see everybody like this. At ease in their own skin, today they were no different from any other office member celebrating a colleague's birthday, albeit a slight difference in luxury.

The long-haired brunet walks over to the quieter side of the party where you reside. You notice him walking over and slice a piece of the cake and extend it to him.

“It’s a real nice party you pulled off in such little time, Y/N.”

“Whatever do you mean?, this is all Tony." You say, a light gist in your voice.

“Oh please, everyone knows this is your work; pretty sure Pepper does too.”

“Tony was away with us on the mission; he wouldn’t be able to pull this off.”

“Well, I think you underestimate him, Bucky.”

“No, they underestimate you,” he sighs, anticipation brewing within. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was nervous.

“Do you like the cake? It’s got a complicated name, but I’m pretty sure it's got plum in it; I know you like it.”

His eyes light up just a tad bit as the corners of his mouth slightly turn up.

He chuckles again, “You’re supposed to get Pepper a cake of her choice, not what I like.”

“Everyone likes plum!. Anyway, I had to buy multiple cakes; sneaking this in was easy.”

“Thank you. It’s really goo— a thud on his back nearly chokes him as Sam comes up from behind, eager to receive his share of the sugary dessert. As you cut the slice for him, their regular jab of bickering continues. Sam says something in an almost teasing tone as Bucky tries to strangle him with his eyes. You like this version of them much more.

You slightly tap your feet as you gaze at the room you’re most familiar with. He hadn’t spoken to you the whole day, but his piercing gaze could not be shaken off of you. You recall the previous night's events; you’re unsure what to make of it. You simply couldn’t leave, at least not without hearing his voice.

“What are you doing here?” His voice startles you out of your thoughts.

“I- wanted to talk to you… about last ni—

“Oh, so now you wanna talk?”

“You seemed content with the company of others the whole day.” The harshness of his tone surprises you.

“What, Steve, what are you-?

“I believe it’s cap for you. Since when did you two get this close?” he says a finger pointed towards you.

“who?”

“Don’t act like a fool, Y/N; I see the way you look at him; act around him.”

“Who!?”

“Bucky.” He barks back.

“Are you trying to fuck him? Bored of me? Is that what this is about?”

The crassness of his words shocked you. You feel a lump form in your throat as your eyes sting.

“No, no...” you can barely form any words as tears start brimming up, your palms brush against your eyes harshly as to try to stop the free fall.

He sighs at that, his voice now a whisper, “Why are you crying?”

“I’m not. I’m— sorry…” you coarsely whisper.

He sighs again and moves over to sit on the bed, a hand extending to latch on to your dress. He pulls you with it, your slight resistance casually ignored. His grip becomes stronger as he pulls you onto his lap, his hand tight around your waist.

He simply gazes at you, and you start crying all over again, “I don’t know—I just don’t know what I did to make you feel that way. I never—you sob words stuck in your throat.

He tilts up your chin with his finger, forcing you to look at him. He leans forward to kiss you. The hand around your waist forcing you to straddle him as the other latches on to your hair. You try to stop, to get a word out but he uses this opportunity to shove his tongue in. The force of him making you relent.

“Steve, I—

The sudden swing of the door startles you just as your presence startles your visitor. He averts his eyes in shock, but his eyes move back to look at you, an ache painted upon them as he looks at your dishevelled hair and messy form.

“Hey, Buck. Need something?” Steve asks, his face slightly turned backwards.

Bucky’s eyes finally reside on the other man in the room, snapping him out of his trance.

“Uh… yeah. no- No, it’s ok.” He rambles as he moves back and closes the door.

You feel a sudden sense of shame course through you, and you move to get off of him. Only to have him shift you as he pins you under him.

“Don’t worry, he won’t tell anyone. It’ll be fine.” He says in between kisses. His hand toying with your dress.

Of course; you’re still his secret, one that he’s unwilling to share. But it’s ok. For him, you’ll do just about anything, as he would for you.

His insatiability and your incredulity, twisting around and consuming you into a single burning fire.

*

[yawnderu]

K-9 — Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader | Chapter V

Sick as a dog, and just as vicious.

1 2 3 4 5

''Stop looking at me, Johnny.'' Your voice is strained, currently being crushed by the mass of pure muscle currently laying on top of you.

''Cannae keep my eyes off of ya, doc.'' You roll your eyes, attempting to change positions before giving up. The man is not going anywhere.

''Or your hands. Let go of me.'' You gather the strength to try to push him away again, just for Johnny to make himself heavier and shoot you a cheeky smile. As if being woken up by the man running into your room and crushing you wasn't bad enough, he was refusing to let go or move, arms wrapped around you tightly, legs caging you in.

''Next time I'm letting you die.'' You sigh, stopping the struggle just for your best friend to lay down next to you, an arm wrapped around your shoulder.

''Saved my life out there, bonnie.'' The man is like a golden retriever and it's practically impossible to resist his charms, not when he has been in a coma for two whole weeks after the surgery, leaving you alone with the rest of the team. Your hand comes out of the blanket to gently pat his cheek before your arms are wrapping around his neck, bringing him closer, foreheads pressed together.

''I kinda missed you, you know?'' His arms wrap around your waist as he brings you even closer, hearts pressing together. He sighs, looking away before looking back at you.

''Thought that was the end of me, doc. Fuckin' Makarov got away an' I get a bullet to the heid.'' Johnny has always been an open book, anger and frustration clear on his face, yet his eyes showed the fear he felt at the idea of being an inch from death. Your chuckle brings his attention back to you, eyebrow raising in a display of attitude only Gaz can surpass.

''Took me 12 hours to bring you back, Johnny. Got help from Ghost for the chest shots, but your head...? If anything that shouldn't be touched was messed with, we could have lost you— or made you into more of an idiot.'' He playfully tugs on a strand of your hair, a small smile on his lips, yet his eyes were just as haunted as before. He took a deep breath before holding you closer, your face buried on his chest, warm hand on the back of your head.

'''t was scary, bonnie. Thought I'd wake up in hell with all the fannybaws I've killed.'' A dry chuckle escapes his lips as he lets go of you, giving your forehead a small kiss before getting up from bed, looking around your room before his blue eyes go back to you.

''Thank you. For saving me.'' Your gaze softens as you look up at him, finally getting up from bed and gently patting his shoulder, looking at the small patch of hair that had to be shaved off in order to have more space to operate.

''Should have shaved that stupid mohawk while I was at it.'' He gives you an overexaggerated look of mock offense and you grin up at him, happy to at the very least, have your best friend back. He's not ready to be out on the field yet, so you can already expect him to be bothering you or Simon as much as possible.

His hand drapes over your shoulder as he guides you out of your quarters and drops you off in an interrogation room, your eyebrow raising as you look up at him for an explanation.

''L.Ts teaching you how to interrogate people. Said something about ye becoming more involved in field work.'' You don't question it, knowing if anything happens to the team while out on a mission, you'd have to take over. Johnny gives you a smug smile as he walks away, fully aware of what at the very least seemed to be Ghost's attraction to you.

You open the door just to see him already waiting, sitting on an old chair with rope held in his hands. His brown eyes immediately go to yours, softening slightly as he offers you the rope. He knows it's a bad idea, but at the same time, he wants to ensure you know as much as possible about psychological warfare, even when it's completely different from your field. It's an excuse to spend extra time with you, that much is clear— but he also knows you're a fast learner.

''Simon.'' There's a smirk threatening to tug at your lips as you grab the rope, already getting on with tying him up. It's something you're very familiar with, not needing further instructions and ignoring the way his muscles tense up slightly in mild surprise as your hands move with pure expertise as if this is nothing but a second nature to you.

It takes a few minutes until you're done, looking down at the artwork with the perfect muse— there's a knot tied up on top of Ghost's chest, rope running over his chest in three different sections, uniting where his hands are tied behind his back. The rope goes up, binding his mid-section to the back of the wooden chair. His thighs are held apart with the tight rope, ankles tied to the front legs of the chair, his prominent bulge standing out even more with the tightness your knots have.

''Right.'' He interrupts after you stare at him for a second too long, already feeling the sweat pooling up on his forehead underneath the balaclava.

''You already got the intimidation part down, so let's move with torture. In that table there's tools you can use on me. When interrogating the enemy... make sure you start slow before you build up on the most damage you can do without killing. Anything is fair game in this field, love.'' He looks down before looking back up at you, trying to keep his eyes from wandering as he looks at you in civilian clothes for the first time.

''Torture, psychological tactics of intimidation, even amputation, if you're not afraid of being discharged.'' He's clearly joking about the last part, but his voice remains serious as he focuses on the task at hand.

''Go get something from there and try to make me talk. I'll be an enemy holding back information, get it out of me.'' He gestures to the table with his head and you hum in acknowledgement. The corners of your lips tug into a smirk as you see it— a red candle among the many different tools, a zippo lighter you recognize as his right next to it.

''Interesting.'' He doesn't even have to look to know what caught your attention. Your hand reached out for the lighter, flicking it on and staring at the flame for a few seconds before looking over your shoulder, gaze catching his. His eyes follow your movements, from the way you slowly walk up to him, to your hands lifting up his shirt, wrinkling the fabric together underneath the knot of the rope, his strong body exposed.

His breath hitches when your cold finger trails up and down from his abs to his chest. He watches you light up the candle, waiting until the wax starts to melt before slowly tipping the candle closer and closer, pausing before the burning flame makes contact with his skin, waiting for his approval. All he can do is stare down at you and nod his head once.

Your eyes focus on his strong torso, tipping the candle until the wax began slowly dripping into the pale skin, muscles flexing underneath. He takes a deep breath, trying his best to not give you a reaction despite the burning pain on his sensitive skin.

''That all you got?'' He challenges and that does nothing but make the dangerous glint in your eyes dance along with the fire. Your hand goes higher, tipping the candle again until a new bead of wax drips down his chest, not a single sound coming out of him besides his heavy breathing.

''Not yet.'' There's a small smirk on your lips as you notice the jolt that runs through his body, flinching slightly when the hot wax lands on his nipple, yet he still doesn't let out any sounds of struggle. His rock-hard cock twitches in his jeans, another deep breath coming out of him as the muscles on his stomach flex involuntarily. He takes his eyes off of you when the wax drips onto his other nipple, staring at the ceiling as he tries his best to calm down, body shifting in discomfort as much as possible despite the rope binding his whole body to the chair.

''Try harder.'' He orders, gravelly voice growing deeper. A small snicker escapes your lips at his words, nodding your head. From this angle you can see how his pupils dilate, the black specks quickly overpowering his dark brown eyes.

Your free hand travels from the now dried wax, all the way down to his jeans, fingers neglecting his hard cock and undoing his belt instead. His eyes snap back down on you, yet he doesn't deny you. You pull his cock out with your free hand, freeing him from the tight fabric before you let it go, allowing the thick shaft to rest on his abdomen. The candle goes up again, teeth softly biting on your lower lip out of excitement as you look at the red wax drip on his shaft.

''Fuck.'' His stare is firm, but the moment the wax touches his skin, he winces in pain. There it is. His head leans back on the chair, eyes closing tightly as more wax drips all over his painfully hard cock.

''Stay with it... It's nothing.'' He reassures himself, voice nothing short of a pathetic whimper. He shifts his body as you start letting the wax drip higher and higher, movements slow and calculated. He shifts his body, trying to escape the searing hot pain of the wax yet being unable to.

''Fuckin' amateur.'' He spits out, eyes opening to look down at you. His muscles are tensed, jaw clenching underneath his black balaclava. You can see a drip of sweat spill down from his masked forehead, moisture gathering at the bits of skin you can see from his face, eye black looking shinier than before.

''You seem to be enjoying what this amateur is doing, sir.'' Your words are taunting, clearly trying to get a reaction out of him, yet he gives you nothing other than a soft, low moan, half-lidded eyes looking down at you intensely. Your smirk grows at his silence, looking down at the hardening layers of wax all over his thick cock.

''You wanted me to break you, so I will.'' You watch the wax drip down to his glistening tip, mixing in with his precum. He can't help the way his body thrashes against the rope, trying to get away from the pain as a deep moan of pain escapes his lips. You say nothing this time, simply moving the candle around, angling it up so the dripping wax lands on a different part of his tip.

''Fuck! H- I cant—'' He whines out, eyes closed tightly as his body reacts involuntarily. He's still struggling against the rope, yet he doesn't have it in him to ask you to stop.

''That's all you can take?'' You taunt with fake pity and he inhales sharply, beads of sweat running down his forehead, pain showing in his face even when the balaclava is covering it. He finally lets out a quiet whimper, eyes struggling to remain open simply to stare down at you as he always does, yet there's no confidence behind them anymore.

''Do better.'' He's clearly trying to spite you and it works. Your free hand comes up to flick his tip harshly and this time, he doesn't fight himself, a low moan of pain and pleasure escaping his lips. His hips thrust up slightly and in that moment you know— Ghost's resolve is being broken.

''Fuckin'... hell.'' He moans out, bound hands behind his back becoming tight balls, veins bulging in his arms. His head tilts back when he feels a new drop of wax falling on his tip. He can't help it, really, the way his hips thrust up in nothing but pure desperation, ropes of thick white cum staining his abdomen as he groans out in a mix of pain and pleasure, muscles flexing underneath your touch.

''I win, Simon.'' Your taunt does nothing to him other than to make more cum spurt out of his throbbing cock, looking down at him in a mix of amusement and fake pity. Your gaze connects to the pair of wide brown eyes staring at the scene through a half-opened door, cock throbbing in his pants.

A/N: fun fact! Vamp was created with K-9 in mind, but I couldn't keep the idea in my drafts for long enough to use it in this fic so it was published as a one-shot. I decided to use the one-shot in this chapter, as things will get more interesting in the next ones!<3