#happily ever after extras

[natolesims]

❤️Sweet February❤️

CAS Challenge by @aliengirl

Hearts | Red + Bows | Flowers + Chocolates

Teddy Bear + Self Love | Lace + Glitter | Picnic

[misersdream]

Slay the Prince - Happily Ever After

[bloomingkyras]

Ending Mint Gen with Family photoshoot 📸.

[deathbyclown]

The Ride Home, part 2 Pairing: Shanks x Buggy Rating: Explicit Words: 5400

Summary: Buggy's sorting through some emotional bullshit and being very selfish, but Shanks offers a solution. And then Buggy fucks him.

Mild angst once again, but a cheesy little happy ending to make things good before the new episode of one piece drops.

((A/N: I had this chapter pretty much written, but then I read it and hated it so I wrote something else! Enjoy!))

Link to Part 1 

Link to AO3 (Chapter 2) 

The navigator said it would take about a week to reach his ship. One whole week on this shitty cage of a ship, stuck to interact with Shanks. Buggy was not looking forward to it.

Buggy had basked in the attention from his followers earlier in the day but now it was becoming a nuisance. He didn’t have a single moment to be alone, and he couldn’t stop thinking about last night. He thought about Shanks, his lips, the way they looked covered in his lipstick, how they felt on his skin, how they looked wrapped around his dick. Buggy had to adjust himself quite a bit that morning. It was making a lot of conversations very awkward and he was getting progressively more irritated. He was annoyed with his crew, annoyed with Shanks, annoyed with himself. He needed to be alone, to be away from everyone pestering him about Shanks, about the war, about Whitebeard. He didn’t want to think about that!!! He wanted to erase everything that happened last night!! Well…maybe not everything. He was consumed with images from his evening with Shanks; his beautiful smile, his shining eyes, his calloused fingers skimming his belly and thighs, pushing inside of him. Buggy felt his cock twitch, and he grit his teeth, making some of his followers ask what was wrong. He really needed a drink.

Buggy snuck away and wandered the halls of the ship trying to sniff out a bottle alcohol he could swipe without drawing too much attention to himself. He had a hell of a time breaking away from his followers, but now that he was alone, rummaging through the crates at the bottom of Shank’s ship, he was forced to think about last night, and his actions this morning.

This was exactly what he was trying to avoid, dwelling on Shanks, on their ‘relationship’ (whatever the hell that was!), and reliving every little moment from their interactions. But he couldn’t help himself. Everything Shanks gave him last night was what he craved, what he longed for when he was away from him. And he hated himself for being so weak for it. Nothing would change!

He pushed over a crate in his frustration, letting it crash to the floor. He really didn’t give a fuck anymore if he made a mess or if someone found him. He was all alone, he couldn’t stop thinking about Shanks, and he still had no alcohol!! He wanted to break something, to destroy, to load up a cannon with one of his Buggy Balls ™ and wipe out an island and watch it smolder.

“Stealing from another pirate? Tsk tsk tsk.” Shanks voice said airily behind him.

Buggy whipped around, his lips pulled into a snarl.

“What’re you gonna do? Execute me?” Buggy sneered, crossing his arms to hide his shaking. He couldn’t help the thrill of being caught, and by Shanks of all people. He was excited to see him, and scared, the pulse of adrenaline coursing through him made him ready to lash out.

Shanks fought a smile and took a few steps forward, fingertips dragging over the rough wooden crates.

“Should I cut off your head, like when we were kids?” He tried to keep his face neutral but his eyes shone with mischief.

Buggy rolled his eyes and turned his back to Shanks. He had forgotten about that, when they would play with Buggy’s new powers. It made something ache in him.

“I’ll do you one better.” Buggy detached his left arm and tossed it to Shanks.

“You can borrow that, since you’re one short.” Buggy snickered, continuing to open crates, looking for his alcohol.

Shanks was quiet for a moment before bursting into laughter. “You’re such an asshole.” He said affectionately, holding onto Buggy’s arm like it was a bouquet of flowers.

“You’re the asshole.” Buggy huffed back, starting to feel the space shrink with just the two of them there. He needed a drink, and to be alone, but not alone with his thoughts. And he especially didn’t need Shanks here…distracting him.

“Buggy,” Shanks started softly, his voice suddenly closer and Buggy turned around to see Shanks just a few steps behind him. Shanks continued forward, making Buggy lean back on some boxes, and suddenly he felt trapped.

“We should talk about this morning. And last night.” Shanks said gently, his face so sweet and open. It made Buggy want to punch him.

“Fuck off!” Buggy shoved at Shanks’ shoulder, stealing back his arm and popping it into place. He tried to push past Shanks, but he stopped him, his hand gripping Buggy’s shoulder.

“What the hell is your problem!?” Shanks snapped, shoving Buggy back. “I’m trying to make things right, why are you acting like this?” His eyes searched Buggy’s, Shanks’ gaze making him feel naked, exposed.

“Because!” Buggy yelled, bristling, all his nerves tingling, ready for a fight. He needed to leave. Now.

“Because why? Tell me!” Shanks pushed, crowding him further.

Buggy grabbed two handfuls of Shanks shirt, ready to throw him off, trying to keep him at bay.

“BECAUSE I HATE YOU!” Buggy screamed.

Shanks went still, totally silent, and Buggy panted, hands trembling as they gripped Shanks’ shirt harder than they needed to.

“Because I love you.” Buggy whispered. “And you don’t love me back.” Buggy regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth. He sounded pathetic, and he felt it too.

Shanks face softened, his hand closing over one of Buggy’s wrists.

“I do love you. I’ve always loved you, Buggy.” He confessed, face flushed and earnest.

Buggy crashed their lips together, kissing him desperately. He loves Shanks and Shanks loves him back! But it wasn’t that simple, was it? Nothing had changed. He knew this, heard the same words before. But still they parted ways. Still he sailed away, alone, waiting for this moment again. But what did it matter when they were together right now? He wanted this, wanted to be with him again, wanted to spend every waking moment together, wanted to take him, consume him.

Shanks kissed him back, their mouths opening to one another, tongues pushing, curling, tasting. Buggy moaned into the kiss, hands sliding around Shanks, pulling him close, hugging him tightly.

Shanks broke off the kiss, hand moving to cup Buggy’s face.

“Should we take this back to my room?” Shanks murmured, eyes dark, his lips red from Buggy’s lipstick.

And once again reality hit him. Shanks loved him, this was as far as he’d go to show it. Sex.

Buggy pushed him away, making Shanks stumble backward, clearly thrown off guard, brow furrowing in confusion.

“You love me, but not the way I love you.” Buggy said quietly, suddenly empty.

“What do you mean by that?” Shanks asked, straightening.

“Would you ever give up being a captain?” Buggy asked, watching intently, trying to gauge his reaction.

He looked surprised and slowly shook his head. “Maybe someday, but I still have things I need to do.” He paused. “What about you, Buggy? Would you ever stop being a captain?”

“Hell no! I worked hard for my crew!” Buggy answered passionately.

Shanks gave him a sad smile, nodding in agreement.

“I think…we love each other, Buggy, but we both have our own lives to lead.” He said gently, as if he was trying not to upset him.

“Whatever.” Buggy pushed past Shanks and stormed away. He didn’t want to think about his words. Because Buggy wasn’t entirely truthful. He’d consider sharing in the responsibilities of captain if it meant he could be with Shanks, could help him become Pirate King. Nothing’s changed. They’re still the same people wanting different things. Shanks has never made the offer to join him again! And like hell if Buggy was going to beg!! Especially with how everything turned out the last time… Shanks could beg him instead! If he loved Buggy, why wouldn’t he? He should move oceans to get him to stay!!

…

“We should talk about this morning. And last night.” Shanks said gently, his face so sweet and open. It made Buggy want to punch him.

“Fuck off!” Buggy shoved at Shanks’ shoulder, stealing back his arm and popping it into place. He tried to push past Shanks, but he stopped him, his hand gripping Buggy’s shoulder.

“What the hell is your problem!?” Shanks snapped, shoving Buggy back. “I’m trying to make things right, why are you acting like this?” His eyes searched Buggy’s, Shanks’ gaze making him feel naked, exposed.

“Because!” Buggy yelled, bristling, all his nerves tingling, ready for a fight. He needed to leave. Now.

“Because why? Tell me!” Shanks pushed, crowding him further.

Buggy grabbed two handfuls of Shanks shirt, ready to throw him off, trying to keep him at bay.

“BECAUSE I HATE YOU!” Buggy screamed.

Shanks went still, totally silent, and Buggy panted, hands trembling as they gripped Shanks’ shirt harder than they needed to.

“Because I love you.” Buggy whispered. “And you don’t love me back.” Buggy regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth. He sounded pathetic, and he felt it too.

Shanks face softened, his hand closing over one of Buggy’s wrists.

“I do love you. I’ve always loved you, Buggy.” He confessed, face flushed and earnest.

Buggy crashed their lips together, kissing him desperately. He loves Shanks and Shanks loves him back! But it wasn’t that simple, was it? Nothing had changed. He knew this, heard the same words before. But still they parted ways. Still he sailed away, alone, waiting for this moment again. But what did it matter when they were together right now? He wanted this, wanted to be with him again, wanted to spend every waking moment together, wanted to take him, consume him.

Shanks kissed him back, their mouths opening to one another, tongues pushing, curling, tasting. Buggy moaned into the kiss, hands sliding around Shanks, pulling him close, hugging him tightly.

Shanks broke off the kiss, hand moving to cup Buggy’s face.

“Should we take this back to my room?” Shanks murmured, eyes dark, his lips red from Buggy’s lipstick.

And once again reality hit him. Shanks loved him, this was as far as he’d go to show it. Sex.

Buggy pushed him away, making Shanks stumble backward, clearly thrown off guard, brow furrowing in confusion.

“You love me, but not the way I love you.” Buggy said quietly, suddenly empty.

“What do you mean by that?” Shanks asked, straightening.

“Would you ever give up being a captain?” Buggy asked, watching intently, trying to gauge his reaction.

He looked surprised and slowly shook his head. “Maybe someday, but I still have things I need to do.” He paused. “What about you, Buggy? Would you ever stop being a captain?”

“Hell no! I worked hard for my crew!” Buggy answered passionately.

Shanks gave him a sad smile, nodding in agreement.

“I think…we love each other, Buggy, but we both have our own lives to lead.” He said gently, as if he was trying not to upset him.

“Whatever.” Buggy pushed past Shanks and stormed away. He didn’t want to think about his words. Because Buggy wasn’t entirely truthful. He’d consider sharing in the responsibilities of captain if it meant he could be with Shanks, could help him become Pirate King. Nothing’s changed. They’re still the same people wanting different things. Shanks has never made the offer to join him again! And like hell if Buggy was going to beg!! Especially with how everything turned out the last time… Shanks could beg him instead! If he loved Buggy, why wouldn’t he? He should move oceans to get him to stay!!

…

Shanks had the two crews eat in shifts to accommodate all the extra people on the ship. So Buggy, Mr.3, and a few of his new recruits sat at one of the tables in the mess hall, telling stories while they ate and drank. There was alcohol(finally), but it was a light ale, nothing hard. Buggy had a sinking feeling most of the day, hating himself for wanting to see Shanks. He needed to stay strong, not give in to his physical desires…which was not his strong suit. He was a hedonist, he liked everything and lots of it, all the time. Drinking, attention, eating; if it gave him physical pleasure he didn’t shy away from it. And unfortunately that included sex with Shanks. Normally he didn’t crave sex like that. He’d masturbate, certainly, but being close to someone else like that, it made him cringe. But when it was Shanks… it felt so different.

“We got anything harder to drink!?” Buggy shouted suddenly, holding up his cup. The people around him cheered, holding up their cups as well.

“I think we can make that happen.” Shanks rested a hand on Buggy’s shoulder and Buggy’s grin froze to his face.

“I’ve got some aged whiskey in my room that I’d hate to drink by myself” Shanks said softly in Buggy’s ear, only for him to hear.

Buggy nodded robotically, a cold sweat breaking out over his skin. Shanks departed with a friendly smile and a wave and now Buggy had to decide if he wanted to follow or stay here.

He made all kinds of excuses in his mind not to go, which delayed his trip to Shanks long enough that barrels of rum made their way to the mess hall. Everyone started drinking, Buggy included, and he was tipsy when he got the courage to make his way to Shanks’ room.

Buggy stood in front of the door, sweating, wishing he hadn’t opened his stupid mouth this morning. He knocked lightly at the door, hoping Shanks wouldn’t hear it and he could wander off, but the door swung open shortly after he knocked. Shanks greeted him with a smile and pulled him into a hug.

“Wasn’t sure if you were coming. I’m glad to see you” he breathed into Buggy’s hair.

Buggy didn’t hug him back but he didn’t push him away either. It felt so good to be close to him like this, and he sighed, resting his head on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry. About everything. Let me make it up to you, tonight.” Shanks lips skimmed the curve of his ear. He kissed downward, to his cheek and without thinking Buggy turned his head so their lips met. He shouldn’t be doing this, but each touch, each kiss made him forget why he was mad at Shanks, made him crave more, crave everything he missed when he and Shanks were parted.

“Let’s have that drink, hmm?” Shanks offered, grabbing Buggy’s hand and guiding him over to the desk.

Both chairs were on the same side now, a bottle of fancy looking whiskey and two short glasses sat on the desk, along with…

“Ooo, are those chips?” Buggy zeroed in on the open bag of seasoned potato chips immediately.

“Your favorite.” Shanks grinned, pouring two fingers of whiskey for both of them. He held out a glass for Buggy, who already removed his gloves and grabbed a handful of chips from the bag. Buggy accepted the offered glass and Shanks held it up, clearly for a toast. Buggy begrudgingly held his up, rolling his eyes at Shanks’ pleased look.

“To survivors. To pirates. To us.” Shanks clinked his glass against Buggy’s and took a large swallow. Buggy nodded, sipping his but sputtered as soon as it hit the back of his throat. It burned so badly!! Buggy coughed, grimacing as Shanks laughed at him.

“Fuck you!” Buggy struggled out between coughs. “This is shit.” Buggy said with a frown, taking a smaller sip this time. It was still alcohol, after all. Buggy brought the handful of chips to his mouth and shoved in the whole pile, crunching away, hoping to chase away the burn from the alcohol. It was his favorite snack food, salty and seasoned with onion and garlic and paprika. It’s been his favorite since he was a kid. He tried not to think too hard about how Shanks remembered that.

The two of them ended up drinking the entire bottle together (most of it was Shanks) and Buggy easily finished the entire bag of chips.

They were nursing their final glasses of whiskey, shooting the shit, reminiscing about when they were kids, sharing gossip from their crews. The conversation lulled and Buggy sucked at his fingers, wishing he had more chips.

“I was thinking about what you said this morning.” Shanks said softly.

Buggy froze, eyes flicking to Shanks’ face, fingers still in his mouth. Why the hell was he bringing this up now!?

“Maybe we won’t give up being captains, but what if we sailed together anyway?” He offered, fidgeting in his seat, clearly nervous.

Buggy pulled his fingers from his mouth with a ‘pop.’ “What the hell does that mean?! ‘Sail together.’” Buggy used air quotes, his fingers glistening in the lamplight. “You’re drunk!”

“Yes! I am! Please Buggy, think about it. We could be part of the same fleet! You’d still be captain, and so would I! Maybe we can’t give up on our lives but that doesn’t mean we have to be apart!” Shanks said excitedly, getting progressively louder.

“And what if I want to find treasure? You gonna follow me around?” Buggy scoffed, crossing his arms, wiping his fingers off on his shirt, and leaning back in his chair.

“Sure! But that means you have to follow me, too.”

Buggy just stared at him, mouth open in disbelief. His brain was trying to chug into gear, but the alcohol made everything slow. Shanks wanted…to sail with him. Together…

“You’re so…stupid. What the fuck are you even talking about?”

Shanks clasped Buggy’s hand, pulling it close to his chest.

“You can call me as many names as you want, just say you’ll sail with me.” Shanks pressed a kiss to Buggy’s knuckles and Buggy’s whole body heated, his face turning bright red.

“Stop! Enough!” Buggy ripped his hand from Shanks’ grasp and lunged at him from his seat, gripping his shoulders. “Don’t jerk me around! You’re drunk! You don’t know what you’re saying. How can you expect me to say yes to an offer like this?” Buggy asked, incredulous, shoving at him but letting his hands slip down to his chest as Shanks put his hand to Buggy’s face, cupping his cheek.

“We should talk about this morning. And last night.” Shanks said gently, his face so sweet and open. It made Buggy want to punch him.

“Fuck off!” Buggy shoved at Shanks’ shoulder, stealing back his arm and popping it into place. He tried to push past Shanks, but he stopped him, his hand gripping Buggy’s shoulder.

“What the hell is your problem!?” Shanks snapped, shoving Buggy back. “I’m trying to make things right, why are you acting like this?” His eyes searched Buggy’s, Shanks’ gaze making him feel naked, exposed.

“Because!” Buggy yelled, bristling, all his nerves tingling, ready for a fight. He needed to leave. Now.

“Because why? Tell me!” Shanks pushed, crowding him further.

Buggy grabbed two handfuls of Shanks shirt, ready to throw him off, trying to keep him at bay.

“BECAUSE I HATE YOU!” Buggy screamed.

Shanks went still, totally silent, and Buggy panted, hands trembling as they gripped Shanks’ shirt harder than they needed to.

“Because I love you.” Buggy whispered. “And you don’t love me back.” Buggy regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth. He sounded pathetic, and he felt it too.

Shanks face softened, his hand closing over one of Buggy’s wrists.

“I do love you. I’ve always loved you, Buggy.” He confessed, face flushed and earnest.

Buggy crashed their lips together, kissing him desperately. He loves Shanks and Shanks loves him back! But it wasn’t that simple, was it? Nothing had changed. He knew this, heard the same words before. But still they parted ways. Still he sailed away, alone, waiting for this moment again. But what did it matter when they were together right now? He wanted this, wanted to be with him again, wanted to spend every waking moment together, wanted to take him, consume him.

Shanks kissed him back, their mouths opening to one another, tongues pushing, curling, tasting. Buggy moaned into the kiss, hands sliding around Shanks, pulling him close, hugging him tightly.

Shanks broke off the kiss, hand moving to cup Buggy’s face.

“Should we take this back to my room?” Shanks murmured, eyes dark, his lips red from Buggy’s lipstick.

And once again reality hit him. Shanks loved him, this was as far as he’d go to show it. Sex.

Buggy pushed him away, making Shanks stumble backward, clearly thrown off guard, brow furrowing in confusion.

“You love me, but not the way I love you.” Buggy said quietly, suddenly empty.

“What do you mean by that?” Shanks asked, straightening.

“Would you ever give up being a captain?” Buggy asked, watching intently, trying to gauge his reaction.

He looked surprised and slowly shook his head. “Maybe someday, but I still have things I need to do.” He paused. “What about you, Buggy? Would you ever stop being a captain?”

“Hell no! I worked hard for my crew!” Buggy answered passionately.

Shanks gave him a sad smile, nodding in agreement.

“I think…we love each other, Buggy, but we both have our own lives to lead.” He said gently, as if he was trying not to upset him.

“Whatever.” Buggy pushed past Shanks and stormed away. He didn’t want to think about his words. Because Buggy wasn’t entirely truthful. He’d consider sharing in the responsibilities of captain if it meant he could be with Shanks, could help him become Pirate King. Nothing’s changed. They’re still the same people wanting different things. Shanks has never made the offer to join him again! And like hell if Buggy was going to beg!! Especially with how everything turned out the last time… Shanks could beg him instead! If he loved Buggy, why wouldn’t he? He should move oceans to get him to stay!!

…

Shanks had the two crews eat in shifts to accommodate all the extra people on the ship. So Buggy, Mr.3, and a few of his new recruits sat at one of the tables in the mess hall, telling stories while they ate and drank. There was alcohol(finally), but it was a light ale, nothing hard. Buggy had a sinking feeling most of the day, hating himself for wanting to see Shanks. He needed to stay strong, not give in to his physical desires…which was not his strong suit. He was a hedonist, he liked everything and lots of it, all the time. Drinking, attention, eating; if it gave him physical pleasure he didn’t shy away from it. And unfortunately that included sex with Shanks. Normally he didn’t crave sex like that. He’d masturbate, certainly, but being close to someone else like that, it made him cringe. But when it was Shanks… it felt so different.

“We got anything harder to drink!?” Buggy shouted suddenly, holding up his cup. The people around him cheered, holding up their cups as well.

“I think we can make that happen.” Shanks rested a hand on Buggy’s shoulder and Buggy’s grin froze to his face.

“I’ve got some aged whiskey in my room that I’d hate to drink by myself” Shanks said softly in Buggy’s ear, only for him to hear.

Buggy nodded robotically, a cold sweat breaking out over his skin. Shanks departed with a friendly smile and a wave and now Buggy had to decide if he wanted to follow or stay here.

He made all kinds of excuses in his mind not to go, which delayed his trip to Shanks long enough that barrels of rum made their way to the mess hall. Everyone started drinking, Buggy included, and he was tipsy when he got the courage to make his way to Shanks’ room.

Buggy stood in front of the door, sweating, wishing he hadn’t opened his stupid mouth this morning. He knocked lightly at the door, hoping Shanks wouldn’t hear it and he could wander off, but the door swung open shortly after he knocked. Shanks greeted him with a smile and pulled him into a hug.

“Wasn’t sure if you were coming. I’m glad to see you” he breathed into Buggy’s hair.

Buggy didn’t hug him back but he didn’t push him away either. It felt so good to be close to him like this, and he sighed, resting his head on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry. About everything. Let me make it up to you, tonight.” Shanks lips skimmed the curve of his ear. He kissed downward, to his cheek and without thinking Buggy turned his head so their lips met. He shouldn’t be doing this, but each touch, each kiss made him forget why he was mad at Shanks, made him crave more, crave everything he missed when he and Shanks were parted.

“Let’s have that drink, hmm?” Shanks offered, grabbing Buggy’s hand and guiding him over to the desk.

Both chairs were on the same side now, a bottle of fancy looking whiskey and two short glasses sat on the desk, along with…

“Ooo, are those chips?” Buggy zeroed in on the open bag of seasoned potato chips immediately.

“Your favorite.” Shanks grinned, pouring two fingers of whiskey for both of them. He held out a glass for Buggy, who already removed his gloves and grabbed a handful of chips from the bag. Buggy accepted the offered glass and Shanks held it up, clearly for a toast. Buggy begrudgingly held his up, rolling his eyes at Shanks’ pleased look.

“To survivors. To pirates. To us.” Shanks clinked his glass against Buggy’s and took a large swallow. Buggy nodded, sipping his but sputtered as soon as it hit the back of his throat. It burned so badly!! Buggy coughed, grimacing as Shanks laughed at him.

“Fuck you!” Buggy struggled out between coughs. “This is shit.” Buggy said with a frown, taking a smaller sip this time. It was still alcohol, after all. Buggy brought the handful of chips to his mouth and shoved in the whole pile, crunching away, hoping to chase away the burn from the alcohol. It was his favorite snack food, salty and seasoned with onion and garlic and paprika. It’s been his favorite since he was a kid. He tried not to think too hard about how Shanks remembered that.

The two of them ended up drinking the entire bottle together (most of it was Shanks) and Buggy easily finished the entire bag of chips.

They were nursing their final glasses of whiskey, shooting the shit, reminiscing about when they were kids, sharing gossip from their crews. The conversation lulled and Buggy sucked at his fingers, wishing he had more chips.

“I was thinking about what you said this morning.” Shanks said softly.

Buggy froze, eyes flicking to Shanks’ face, fingers still in his mouth. Why the hell was he bringing this up now!?

“Maybe we won’t give up being captains, but what if we sailed together anyway?” He offered, fidgeting in his seat, clearly nervous.

Buggy pulled his fingers from his mouth with a ‘pop.’ “What the hell does that mean?! ‘Sail together.’” Buggy used air quotes, his fingers glistening in the lamplight. “You’re drunk!”

“Yes! I am! Please Buggy, think about it. We could be part of the same fleet! You’d still be captain, and so would I! Maybe we can’t give up on our lives but that doesn’t mean we have to be apart!” Shanks said excitedly, getting progressively louder.

“And what if I want to find treasure? You gonna follow me around?” Buggy scoffed, crossing his arms, wiping his fingers off on his shirt, and leaning back in his chair.

“Sure! But that means you have to follow me, too.”

Buggy just stared at him, mouth open in disbelief. His brain was trying to chug into gear, but the alcohol made everything slow. Shanks wanted…to sail with him. Together…

“You’re so…stupid. What the fuck are you even talking about?”

Shanks clasped Buggy’s hand, pulling it close to his chest.

“You can call me as many names as you want, just say you’ll sail with me.” Shanks pressed a kiss to Buggy’s knuckles and Buggy’s whole body heated, his face turning bright red.

“Stop! Enough!” Buggy ripped his hand from Shanks’ grasp and lunged at him from his seat, gripping his shoulders. “Don’t jerk me around! You’re drunk! You don’t know what you’re saying. How can you expect me to say yes to an offer like this?” Buggy asked, incredulous, shoving at him but letting his hands slip down to his chest as Shanks put his hand to Buggy’s face, cupping his cheek.

“I might be drunk, but I know I love you. And I don’t think I can let you go again. So please. Say yes.” His eyes shone, pulling Buggy in close enough for him to smell the whiskey on his breath.

Buggy gripped the hair on the back of Shanks’ head, pulling it, making him crane his neck. He hovered over him, his teeth bared. Shanks eyes widen, his lips parted, his breath hitched, and Buggy looked over his face.

“Fuck. You.” Buggy spit, pulling harder at Shanks’ hair making him gasp. Buggy closed the distance between them, licking into Shanks’ mouth, devouring him, teeth clacking and scraping.

“You think you can say something like that and everything will be fixed?” Buggy panted into Shanks mouth. “You really know how to piss me off.” He growled, smashing their lips back together, not letting Shanks get in a word.

Shanks made a sound in in throat, whether in protest or pleasure, Buggy didn’t know or care, but Shanks kissed him back. Buggy sat down on Shanks lap, hard enough to make him grunt and used both hands to hold onto Shanks’ face as he ravaged his mouth.

This dumb motherfucker!! Of course Buggy wanted it! Wanted to spend his life sailing the seas with Shanks. It sounded wonderful and terrible and his heart ached for it. But Shanks thinks he can just ask like this? Late at night, both of them drunk, with no guarantee that this idea, this little spark of hope would survive until morning? How dare he get Buggy’s hopes up.

Buggy broke away, leaving them both panting, saliva making their lips glisten, red smeared over both of their mouths.

“Get on the bed.” Buggy ordered, his voice unusually deep.

“Yes.” Shanks breathed, eyes dark and hazy.

Buggy gripped Shanks’ neck, firmly, not hard enough to cut off air, but enough for him to struggle.

“It’s my turn tonight, and I want you to beg. I want you to beg me to be with you. Until I know you won’t change your mind. Beg me until I’m satisfied.”

Shanks moaned, the sound strangled from Buggy’s grip on his throat, attempting to nod.

Buggy released him and moved off his lap.

“Buggy. Please.” Shanks rasped, looking disheveled in his seat, straining in his pants.

Buggy smirked, undoing his cloth belt. “That’s a good start. Now get undressed and get on the bed.”

Shanks stood from his seat, pulling off his shirt, not bothering to unbutton it and tossed it to the floor. He worked at his pants as he hurried to the bed.

Buggy could easily break apart and undress himself, but he took it slow, pulling off the fabric of his belt and letting it fall to the floor.

Buggy unbuttoned his pants, one button at a time, eyes never leaving Shanks, who managed to push his pants and underwear down to his thighs. He had his hand on his dick, stroking himself as he watched Buggy undress.

“Please. I need to see more of you.” He breathed, his hand unhurried.

“You think you deserve that?” Buggy taunted, hands leaving his pants to pull off the ascot around his neck, exposing the mottled skin of bruises that Shanks gave him.

“I just want to make you feel good. Use me.” Shanks pushed his pants off, along with his sandals, spreading his legs, attempting to fully expose himself to Buggy.

He was so beautiful, his thighs paler than his sun-kissed chest, covered in dark red hair, fuzzy, the hair abruptly stopping before making its appearance again at the base of his dick. Buggy wanted to swallow him down, wanted to lick and tease his weeping tip until tears gathered in his eyes, until Shanks was tugging at his hair, begging him for release.

Buggy tossed his ascot to the ground and took a step forward, shrugging off his coat, letting it slowly slide down his arms until it, too, fell to the ground.

“You’re right. I am going to use you.” Buggy removed his hat, tossing it behind him. “I’m going to fuck you until you can’t live without me.” He pulled his hair loose, so it fell over his shoulders, removing his bandana in the process.

Shanks bit at his lip, his hand moving faster over his dick, clearly appreciating Buggy’s show.

Buggy crossed his arms in front of him, grabbing the hem of his shirt and pulled it up and off, letting it join the pile of clothes around him. He took another step forward, running a hand through his hair to push it back out of his face. He purposely flexed, tightening his abdomen and his raised arm, tucking his thumb into the waistband of his pants and pulled down slightly to expose a glimpse of pubic hair.

Shanks watched, his attention rapt, eyes so heavy on Buggy’s exposed skin he could feel it, leaving behind heat and goosebumps. Buggy couldn’t help the grin growing on his face. He hooked both thumbs in his waistband and pushed down his pants, leaving on his underwear, which bulged out, his erection obvious.

“You want this?” Buggy grabbed his cock over his underwear, stroking a hand over himself then flattening the fabric around it to make the outline more obvious.

“Yes.” Shanks breathed, eyes flicking up to Buggy’s face. “Please.” He added when Buggy raised an eyebrow.

Buggy detached from his feet, letting his pants fall off, and hovered over to Shanks, his feet following and reattaching to stand right in front of him. He reached forward and grabbed Shanks hair, pulling his head back. He put two fingers to his lips, pressing lightly, Shanks understood, parting his lips, letting Buggy slide his fingers inside his mouth. Buggy played with his tongue, pushing and pinching it between his pointer and middle finger. Shanks hot breath washed over his hand, panting as Buggy toyed with him.

“Suck.” He demanded, sticking his fingers so far into Shanks’ mouth that he gagged. Shanks wrapped his lips around Buggy’s fingers, doing as he was told, sucking sharply. Buggy groaned softly, watching Shanks’ face, whose eyes were closed as his mouth worked, savoring his fingers like it was candy. His tongue licked over the pads of his fingers, each swipe sending a hot pulse straight to his cock.

Buggy pulled his fingers from Shanks’ mouth and pushed on his shoulder with his other hand, making him fall back onto the bed. He brought his fingers down to the cleft of Shanks’ ass, spreading him as his middle finger found Shanks’ entrance, pushing into the tight ring. Even with the saliva it felt too dry, Shanks’ face scrunching in discomfort. It's what he deserved, the bastard.

“Move up.” Buggy slapped Shanks’ thigh, putting a knee on the bed to follow after him. “And get me the lube. I want you to be nice and wet for me.”

Shanks nodded eagerly, scooting further onto the bed and reaching under the same pillow for the lube they used yesterday. Did he always keep it there? How often was he using it? It didn’t matter. Shanks pressed the tube into Buggy’s hand, getting comfortable and spreading his legs. What a slut. Buggy’s cock twitched at the sight, hands working at the lid of the lube, fumbling as his eyes ate up Shanks spread out for him.

He managed to get some lube squeezed onto his fingers and brought them back to Shanks’ entrance, his finger sliding into him more easily, the only resistance from the tight muscle. Shanks sighed as Buggy slowly sunk his finger into him, until he couldn’t go any deeper. He felt hot, and tight, his smooth insides squeezing him. And the surge of want he felt was powerful. He felt so hard it made him ache; he wanted to be inside of Shanks, wanted to feel him around his cock. But more than that, he wanted to make Shanks beg.

He curled his finger, feeling his insides, pulling out just to his fingertip before pushing back in, the glide easier. Buggy detached his hand, letting it finger Shanks open as he lowered himself to his body, pressing red kisses over his thighs. Buggy had his eyes on Shanks the entire time, watching him as he mouthed over the taut skin of his hips, skipping over his dick entirely, continuing upward, trailing kisses over his abdomen. Buggy straddled him and bent forward, Shanks dick rubbing against his thighs as he leaned over him, kissing his nipples. He locked eyes with Shanks, sticking out his tongue and dragged it over his hardened nipple, making his breath hitch. He let his eyes close and wrapped his lips around the skin of his pec, swirling his tongue. Then he bit down, hard, teeth sinking into skin. Shanks gasped at the pain, trying to push away Buggy’s head, but he did not let go, keeping his teeth there, his tongue thrashing against Shanks’ nipple. He sucked hard at the skin as he pulled away, tasting blood. Shanks grabbed a fistful of his hair and brought Buggy up to him, licking into his mouth, lapping up what little blood was still lingering, sucking Buggy’s tongue into his mouth.

Buggy broke away and latched onto Shanks’ neck, purposefully sucking hickies as he pushed a second finger into him. Shanks let out a moan, the sound vibrating in his throat, where Buggy could feel it on his lips and tongue. He loved hearing that sound, loved hearing any sound of pleasure coming from Shanks, loved being the one to pull it out of him. Buggy scissored his fingers, pressing his tongue over his pulse point. Shanks squirmed under him, gasping, his hand grasping at Buggy’s shoulder. Buggy grinned into his neck, moving his fingers faster, tugging Shanks’ skin between his teeth, then soothing it with his tongue.

Shanks groaned aloud, hand moving down to cup Buggy, his hand dipping into his underwear and stroking him. Buggy pressed his forehead into Shanks’ shoulder, the hot feeling of Shanks’ calloused hand gripping him firmly gave him pause, made him want to enjoy the pleasure of it.

“Please.” Shanks breathed, nearly whining. His hand moved faster over Buggy’s cock, matching the pace of Buggy’s fingers inside of him. He needed to stop Shanks or he’d cum in his underwear. Buggy grabbed Shanks’ arm with his other hand, stilling him and pulling him away from his cock.

“Please, what?” Buggy panted into Shanks’ ear, pushing a third finger into him.

Shanks sucked in a breath through his teeth, letting it out shakily, focused on the feeling of Buggy’s fingers inside of him.

“Hmm? What do you want, Shanks?” Buggy taunted softly, teeth tugging at his lobe.

“You. I want you, Buggy. Please.” Shanks turned his head, eyes closed, pressing his forehead into Buggy’s.

Buggy was caught off guard, his pleas so sincere, so eager, it shot straight through his heart, opened up that gnawing aching part of him that wanted to be wanted. Its what he told Shanks to do, to beg him, but he wasn’t prepared for it to feel like this.

Buggy put a hand behind Shanks’ head and pressed their lips together, mouths moving over one another. He curled his fingers inside of Shanks, pushing into the sensitive skin, searching.

Shanks broke off the kiss, his head pressed into the pillows behind him, panting, his throat exposed, moaning as Buggy’s fingers pressed against his prostate. Buggy pulled his fingers out, leaned over Shanks and grabbed his bottom lip with his teeth, pulling, then releasing as he moved back down his body, tongue and lips working across his skin. Buggy kissed the tip of Shanks’ dick, slick and oozing pre-cum, a long sticky string staying attached to his lips as he kissed down the shaft.

He sat back up, wiping off his slick fingers on his underwear, thumbs hooking into the waistband.

“Again. Tell me what you want.” Buggy’s cock strained in his underwear, a wet spot from his own arousal obvious on the fabric.

“You. Please, Buggy. I want you. I need you.” Shanks pleaded, pulling up his knees, keeping his legs spread.

Hot pleasure washed over him at Shanks’ words. Shanks needs him. He wants him and he needs him. Buggy undressed fully, bare before Shanks, stroking himself. He squeezed lube onto his cock, cold at first, but warming up quickly as he slicked himself. He brought the head of his cock to Shanks’ stretched entrance, pushing, meeting very little resistance as he slid in.

Buggy groaned, Shanks was tight and hot and slick, squeezing him, swallowing him in. Shanks’ lips pressed together, a long soft whine stuck in his throat as Buggy bottomed out, his hips meeting Shanks’ ass. Buggy wrapped a hand around Shanks’ dick, stroking him with his slick hand as he swirled his hips, letting Shanks get used to him.

Shanks’ lips broke open, moaning, his legs trembling as Buggy fisted his dick, shallowly thrusting into him. Buggy leaned over him, pressing kisses to his cheeks and lips, his hand and hips still gently moving.

“Buggy.” Shanks panted, their eyes meeting, “I thought you were going to fuck me?” Shanks grinned, his face flushed, sweaty, his hair disheveled, but his eyes shining.

Buggy’s eyebrows shot up, his mouth dropping open slightly. “You little shit.” He growled, unable to stop his smile. He grabbed Shanks by his hips and thrust sharply, pulling a moan out of Shanks as his hips slapped against his ass. And he didn’t let up, fucking him and pulling him onto his dick with every thrust. Shanks tensed, his whole body taut, his hips held by Buggy, making his back arch. He reached down his hand, stroking his dick as Buggy continued his merciless pace. Shanks’ ass felt so good, there was no way he could keep this up, he was hurtling toward his climax. He needed to make Shanks cum before he shot off too early.

Buggy grabbed Shanks’ legs and bent him slightly, his cock pushing at different angles, leaning further and further over him, until he let go of Shanks’ legs and had his forearms on either side of his head. Shanks gasped, his eyes fluttering, his muscles tensing. There. Right there. Buggy kept the same angle, pounding him, hammering that spot. Buggy’s hand detached and he stroked Shanks, hips moving quickly. Shanks clawed at his back, hot lines from his blunt nails burned against his skin, his brow furrowed, eyes squeezed shut, moaning loudly, a stream of nonsense falling from his lips. Buggy watched his face, mesmerized by his pleasure. He was so beautiful.

“Love you. Love you. Buggy.” Shanks whined, eyes cracking open to look dazedly at Buggy, spilling over Buggy’s hand, shooting cum onto both of their stomachs.

Buggy was entranced, memorizing Shanks’ face as his orgasm washed over him. He kissed him, lips pressing together then pulling away enough for their breath to mingle. Buggy tucked his face into Shanks’ shoulder and wrapped his arms around him, pulling him tight as he continued to fuck him. Shanks clenched around him, whether on purpose or not, he wasn’t sure but he moaned into Shanks’ neck, so close to finishing.

“Tell me you want it.” Buggy panted, his climax building quickly.

“I want it. I want everything you give me.” Shanks breathed back, pressing a kiss to his temple.

Buggy bit Shanks’ shoulder, pounding into him, groaning through his teeth, the hot wave of pleasure crashing over him as he filled Shanks. Buggy shuddered, the aftershocks rocking through him, his teeth set firmly in Shanks’ skin, but not yet breaking it.

Buggy huffed and let go, dropping his head next to Shanks’, his body sinking into him, making Shanks support his whole body weight.

Shanks let out a strained chuckle and wrapped his arm around Buggy’s back, holding him tight, placing a kiss on his cheek.

“I love you, Buggy.” Shanks sighed, sounding satisfied.

Buggy nipped Shanks’ neck, lifting up to kiss his lips. “I love you.” He murmured against his lips.

Shanks pulled Buggy close, flipping them, peppering Buggy’s face with kisses.

“Enough! Idiot!” Buggy grumbled, pushing at Shanks’ face, who was still attempting to kiss him, Buggy fighting a smile the whole time.

“Go grab a towel to clean up this mess if you’ve got energy to annoy me.” He huffed, still holding back Shanks’ face, still making kissy noises, his lips moving.

“One more kiss?” Shanks asked, his words muffled by Buggy squeezing his cheeks together.

Buggy rolled his eyes but crack a smile. He let go of Shanks, who pressed one smacking kiss to Buggy’s lips and then sat up, making his way off the bed.

Shanks returned, already clean, wiping down Buggy’s belly and cock, tossing away the towel and pulling the covers over both of them.

Buggy pulled him close and Shanks snuggled into his chest, wrapping his arm around him. They laid there for a while, the lights turned out, the ship quiet, nothing but waves crashing to fill the silence.

“Did you mean it?” Buggy whispered into the darkness. Shanks stirred in his arms, tilting his head up to look at Buggy.

“Hm?” Shanks hummed, close to drifting off.

“That we can sail together?” Buggy asked, even quieter than before.

Shanks sat up suddenly, making Buggy jump. Shanks grabbed his hand, holding it to his chest.

“I meant every word.”

Buggy huffed, pulling his hand from Shanks’ grasp. He yanked Shanks back down, pulling him into a hug and kissed the top of his head.

”You better have, or I’m gonna kick your ass.” Buggy threatened into his hair.

Shanks chuckled and held Buggy tighter.

They laid there, relaxing into one another, the room quiet once more.

“I get to be the Commodore, if we’re becoming a fleet.” Buggy announced.

Shanks huffed a sleepy laugh. “We’re just captains. Equal partners. No one is becoming a Commodore.”

“Fine.” Buggy sighed, glad Shanks couldn’t see the conspiratorial look on his face. Buggy would definitely be calling himself Commodore on his own ship.

[theflameisgonee]

i've been thinking about a erke/stowe/eivor arranged marriage plot for two days now i'm so down bad for this ship i don't even particularly LIKE arranged marriage as a trope

[patheticbatman]

Part Three

I'm very proud of these dolls, and I'm also leaving them at my parents' house, so I did a little photoshoot with some books as background so I can have nice pictures of them.

This is the third post, so check out the first for more info!

First up is Vanellope with Museum of Thieves, by Liam Tanner. It’s about a young girl who lives in a 1800s/early 1900s esque city that has extremely oppressive “protective” laws around children (they’re literally chained all the time, for one). Then she ‘steals herself’ and finds a wonderful and dark refuge in the Museum of Thieves. I feel like this would really appeal to Vanellope, as a chaotic and free spirited girl herself.

(Also I think the game on the books website still work, I played it at least a few years ago, which is great! Really reminds me of when I was young and the internet was more free)

Second is Sofia the First with my DP anthology (Happily Ever After Stories, author: I forgot to write that down) that I’ve had since I was at least 4 (Please excuse the sun damage). I seriously considered letting Kida have this one, because she actually had a story in here, but then I realized that I had a better one for her. But I feel like Sofia the first would probably love this. I think it has all the Disney Princesses up to Mulan (because this was published before The Princess and The Frog), plus Alice in Wonderland and Kida? But I don’t remember rn. For some reason I feel like the latest official DP in there is Jasmine. I’m not super familiar with Sofia or her related characters but I felt she should be included.

Third is Sofia’s sister Amber, with A Little Princess by Frances Hodgson Burnett. I feel like she would read this, empathize heavily with Sarah, and unironically not realize she would be part of the problem. Or at least, the version of her from the beginning of Sofia’s tv show would bully Sarah. (Yes she’s a different type of doll than the others but she came free with some of the harder to find ones I ordered off of Ebay.)

Fourth is Elsa with My Sister’s Keeper by Jodi Picoult. I’m not sure mentally HealthIER (she still has a ways to go IMO) Elsa from the end of the second movie would read this. But I KNOW depressed Elsa would read this just to torture herself.

Fifth is Anna and Olaf with Frozen II Movie Theatre Storybook & Movie Projector by Marilyn Easton. I bought this before the movie came out, and sadly it did not contain much more info than the trailers gave us. But it’s still fun to have, and the stylization was pretty. The projector still works, though I need to clean the film. I used to have a bunch of these as a kid. Definitely had a Sleeping Beauty one. In any case, I feel like Anna would be delighted to see an illustrated version of her adventures, and once I thought of using this book, I couldn’t think up anything I’d want to use more as Anna’s background.

Sixth is Kristoff and Sven with It’s A Magical World, A Calvin and Hobbes Collection by Bill Watterson. I feel like Kristoff would enjoy the often dry humor, the lovely artwork, Calvin’s cuteness sometimes, and the relationship between Calvin and HIS animal friend, Hobbes. I actually have a bunch of these compilations but of course I picked the winter one for Kristoff lol. I know he isn’t a Dp but he came out in the same line and I like him anyhow.

Seventh is Elena of Avalon with Kamaisama Kiss (Kamisama Hajimemashita) by Julietta Suzuki. I don’t know a ton about Elena, but both she and Nanami had a sucky life for a while, and then were suddenly given a lot of power and magic, and silly hijinks ensued.

Eight is Moana and a pet chicken with Time Cat, by Lloyd Alexander. She probably doesn’t even know wha a cat IS, so I feel like from start to finish she would be enthralled with all the cultures and the main concept of Time Travel within the book.

Ninth is Raya with Dragon Bones, by Patricia Briggs. I think she’d pick it up, excited to read about Dragons, and then be so mystified with many of the concepts she wouldn’t be able to put it down. Coincidentally it also has a Dragon who can turn human and is pretty much the only one left. No it is not the human on the cover.

Last for this post is Namaari with Dragonworld, by many different people. It’s basically an art book with many different interpretations of Dragons. I think Namaari is the BIGGEST dragon nerd out of the characters in Raya’s movie, so this would definitely be right up her alley.

Part One

Part Two

Part Four

[somnoir]

My father's secretary

Danny Fenton did not expect to be secretary material but after 7 years of being a hero and having Jazz as his elder sister, he was damn good at it. He needed a job, he knew that, and Wayne Enterprises was willing to hire a 21 year old taking online college classes for aerospace engineering.

And he was fucking thankful for that cause Mr. Wayne was pretty neat and bought him good food and coffee whenever he looked out of it. Half his family were already in Gotham with only his parents in Amity. They were finally reformed and now their research finally advocated for the rights of ghosts and spread awareness on their culture. Good for them.

Jazz and Dante were in Arkham working as a psychologist and guard. Elle was still in school, enrolled into Gotham Academy once Vlad insisted on paying her tuition. To be fair, he was paying for Danny's tuition too.

But back to his secretary duties. His boss was Bruce Wayne, yes, but he did often work with the man's son and the current CEO. Tim was nice and had the same caffeine addiction as him. (Jazz highly discouraged this friendship in case they both made a monstrosity of coffee and energy drinks.)

But Mr. Wayne was the best. He was rather clumsy and a bit airheaded but he was the best fucking boss he could ever ask for. The man's paternal instincts were on point and Danny was almost intimidated when the man started handing him extra cash whenever Danny came to the office looking more tired than usual. When that failed, Mr. Wayne resorted to giving him more material things.

Now, he doesn't want to take advantage of this ridiculously kind man with a lack of self preservation (God, was this what Jazz felt about him?). But Mr. Wayne had given him this amazing coffee maker and then proceeded to give Danny the best toaster ever. And Danny has always been known to resolutely be against Billionaires adopting him. But Mr. Wayne?

Danny had honed his back talking skills to perfection to talk down arrogant elites that kept demanding for his boss. He mastered his customer service voice and that condescending look he saw the receptionists give people like they were tantruming toddlers. Danny was ready to fight for that man (Vlad was choking somewhere as the Fentons worriedly look at him).

Jason has heard about Danny Fenton a couple of times. Tim, Dick, and Bruce had mentioned him a lot. Bruce's new secretary that looked like he'd woken up from a coma and was comparable to a grumpy cat on his best days. He's seen the guy a couple times, noticed how he was almost as tall as Jason. Honestly, he kinda looked like a twig (but then that was because of Danny's suit that he made sure didn't completely fit him).

Seriously. Danny was willing to fucking fight anyone and everyone for Bruce Wayne.

The guy was strange. Very strange. Especially when the pits seemed to either become frantic or calm whenever he was around. It depended on the situation really, but mostly the pits grew calmer around Fenton. Like a cat that finally saw its favorite person. It was so weird.

He was drawn to Fenton, sometimes finding himself walking towards the man before he snaps out of it.

It's on this day where Danny was by Bruce's side, a stylus and tablet in hand. He was furiously tapping away at his phone, cursing under his breath about bothersome and stuck up cialiteses.

"Jason!" Bruce happily greets, "Don't mind Danny for a bit. He's telling of some investors for trying to meddle with the company. Tim is too sleep deprived to handle it."

"Where is Tim?"

"Danny threatened to throw the company's coffee maker out the window if he doesn't take a nap." Bruce chuckles, glancing fondly at his fiesty secretary. "Danny?"

"Give me a minute, Mr. Wayne. Some people are trying to squeeze into your schedule when I specifically told them that they can't." Danny says, clearly irritated but looks at Bruce with an apologetic gaze. "No—Mr. Luthor, neither Mr. Drake nor Mr. Wayne are available on that day—"

And it dissolved into Danny telling of what Jason assumes was Lex Luthor to stop his attempts. In other words, corporate for Fuck off.

"He's good, isn't he?" Jason humms as he follows Bruce down the hall, glancing at the tired employees that looked utterly exhausted and horrifically motivated. "Looks like adoption bait."

"Unfortunately, Danny is a very much against Billionaires adopting him. His godfather is one and has attempted multiple times." Bruce sighs, feigning a sorrowful look as he sends Danny a small pout. "What did you do when he tried the fifth time again?"

"I blew up his car, Mr. Wayne." Danny nonchalantly says, "But that only made him want to adopt me more."

Jason blinks, baffled before he's laughing at the utter absurdity of the situation.

"That sounds similar to—"

Gunshots tore through the air as people immediately screamed. At the entrance of the building was the Joker in all his insanity, guns blazing. Jason froze, sucking in a deep breath as he took one step back. They weren't in costume, they weren't the Red Hood and Batman in that moment.

"Nightwing, Robin, and Spoiler are on their way." Oracle says through the comms but that doesn't comfort him in the slightest.

It's chaos in moments and people are ducking their heads to avoid the bullets. Jason and Bruce look right at each other, taking cover as bullets ruin the walls and furniture. But Bruce is dragged from his spot, pulled towards the Joker who laughs maniacally as he pressed a gun against Bruce's head.

"Mr. Wayne!" Many people yell as they all stared in horror as the Joker threatens Gotham's beloved prince.

Jason immediately remembers an explosion and a crowbar.

(Reminder, Danny Fenton was very much ready to go to war for Bruce Wayne).

A tablet and a stylus was suddenly shoved into his arms. Jason blinks, turning to Danny who tugs at his tie and rummages through the counter for something. The Joker sees this, clearly irritated.

"You! Eyes on me!" The Joker practically demands, hysterical that not everyone was paying attention.

Danny apparently doesn't give a damn before looking the Joker straight in the eye.

"Eyes in me." Danny repeats.

A second later something was thrown and a cutter was cutting through the Joker's eye.

Jason gaped at the seemingly harmless secretary, unable to comprehend that this man had just thrown a fucking cutter into the Joker's eye.

Bruce is set free.

Everyone is frozen in place.

Everyone watched as Bruce Wayne's tired and overworked secretary beats the shit out of the Joker, saying something about how he wasn't going to lose a good boss.

No one particularly knows what to do once Danny pulls out the cutter with the Jokers blood and... Fucking shit, was that his eyeball?!

Dick and Damian arrived at some point, also too shocked to do anything. When Danny was done and satisfied, with the Joker still alive, groaning and whimpering from the pain that Danny inflicted.

As if he hadn't almost killed the Joker, Danny turns to them with a tired smile.

"Mr. Wayne, I implore you not to die. I can't lose the best boss that I've had." He plainly says and takes the tablet and stylus back from Jason.

Jason thinks he might just marry this feral man.

Yeah.

Yeah, he was definitely going to marry Danny Fenton.

Part 2 | Masterpost

[lightseoul]

a/n. second time writing from bkg's perspective. this was so fun! (1.1k)

the moment that cemented bakugou’s resolve to marry you wasn’t exactly grand.

it wasn’t your first kiss.

or the first time you made love to each other.

not even the first time you met his nerd-ass friends or his (slightly) overbearing parents. although those two come as close runner-ups.

no, it was rather a random saturday morning after you spent a night at his place, now clad in what he thinks is nothing but your intimates and a burnt orange t-shirt of his that drapes loosely over your frame.

and as he enters the kitchen and closes the distance between the two of you with a few strides, he can’t help but wonder what you’re doing—deeply focused on your laptop—when you’re probably the one who’s extra pedantic about not bringing work home.

“morning,” he grunts, leaning down to kiss your cheek, which you happily accept. although, to his chagrin, your eyes remain on your computer screen, not even sparing him a single glance.

he knows it’s fucking embarrassing, how strongly you elicit feelings within him without you even fucking trying, but he can’t stop the frown that takes over his face even if he attempted to fight it.

shaking off the irrational disappointment from not even being ignored, he rounds the kitchen island and starts brewing the two of you coffee.

“by the way,” he starts, glancing at you over his shoulder, “the old hag’s birthday is coming up. she wants to have dinner with just the four of us, or some shit.”

“i know,” you simply pipe up from where you’re seated on one of his fancy bar stools, gaze still glued on whatever the fuck it is that’s keeping your attention from him.

he turns to you, a manual coffee grinder in tow. “you do?”

at that, you finally look up at him, an innocent expression etched across your features. “you don’t remember? i asked you when your parents’ birthdays were way back in march.”

way back in march.

back when you unanimously decided to decisively end the dating phase and become boyfriend-girlfriend.

“yeah?” is the only thing he manages to get out.

you let out a soft laugh that’s nothing but music to his ears. “yeah, dummy.”

before you can get to see the red that’s most definitely creeping up to his cheeks, bakugou turns his back against you, returning to busying himself with crushing the beans into fine powder and pouring lukewarm water into the machine.

only a few months before reaching a full year together, and you still manage to make him fucking blush.

over the most mundane things, too.

when he first got into his very first relationship with you at the ripe age of 28, he thought he’d outgrown and was way past the embarrassing shit that the human body was capable of when dealing with anything remotely close to romance.

it didn’t take him long enough into your relationship to find out he was so, so wrong.

sighing, he pours out the cup of ground beans onto the filter, finally pressing the button and bringing the coffee maker to life.

you must be done with what’s highly likely is work by now.

but chancing a glance at you, he’s once again met with palpable disappointment when the very same sight greets him.

before he can rein them in, the words come tumbling out of his lips.

“the fuck is so important on that laptop?”

his booming voice must’ve caught you off guard, because you startle ever so minutely in your seat.

“sorry,” he quickly adds on, albeit through a mutter; frustration with himself and his inability to modulate his voice added to the increasingly long list of emotions he’s having to fucking deal with right now.

waving him off, you shoot him another one of that disarming smile of yours. “‘s funny that you ask. i was just about to ask you for your opinion.”

with that, you gesture him to come close with your fingers. curious, he once again rounds the island, ultimately occupying the spot to your right and leaning down to peer at the small text on your screen.

before he can even get a word in, you hurriedly explain yourself. “mitsuki-san mentioned her personal sewing machine broke, so i’ve been thinking about getting her a new one.”

you point to a sleek, off-white model among what looks to be a vast array of selections, “i researched the specs and i think this one’s the best. what do you think?”

a million things course through his mind in an instant, but what he ends up sputtering out is: “you’re such a fucking nerd, you know that?”

at that, you look up at him, your seemingly perpetually moisturized lips now formed into a playful pout, and it takes everything in him not to just pull you in for a kiss and completely abandon the conversation in its entirety.

but he’d like to think he at least has the slightest bit of self-control.

even if you do wear him the fuck out on a daily basis.

“i just want to make sure it’s perfect!” you argue, shifting to stare at your laptop again and bringing him back to the present. your voice is way smaller when you continue. “…i want her to like me.”

he doesn’t even miss a beat. “she already fucking does, dumbass.”

and she really does.

the morning after bakugou first brought you to meet his parents a whopping two months into calling it official, mitsuki texted him something along the lines of having the family heirloom slash ring already adjusted to fit your finger.

he immediately called the old hag after receiving the message just to reprimand her ear off for being too fucking forward and for meddling too much.

but, if he were to be completely honest with himself, he was angry not because mitsuki was imposing, but because he couldn’t believe his mother beat him to that important realization.

the realization that maybe, just maybe, you’re the one.

and now, as he studies you as you scroll through more and more iterations of the best sewing machines on the market with your eyebrows adorably furrowed in utmost concentration, it dawns on him.

it dawns on him that that maybe just turned into a definitely.

tagging. @bunnysaursushii @yawnzzzzzzzz @cholios @kashee-h @iluv-ace @lotuslovers @elarakive @sugurusmoon

˖⁺‧₊ this one made me smile like an idiot while writing lmao. as always, reblogs, replies, and tags are appreciated <3 have a nice day!

[cinnamorollcrybaby]

Shameless

Tags: dad!Toji x fem!reader, modern!au, nsfw, mdni, breeding kink, he calls himself daddy

Synopsis: You’re Toji’s live-in nanny. He wants to breed you, and he successfully does so.

An: This is my story on ao3!! You can read it here. If you’re feeling extra nice, a kudos would be cool too.

Being a single dad was hard. Toji learned quickly after his wife's death that he in fact couldn't do this alone. The way little Megumi's big eyes looked up to him for direction... him of all people. He was not cut out for this. Megumi's mom was a wonderful mother: sweet, nurturing, and patient. Toji really didn't know if he was any of those things.

Luckily, her life insurance provided Toji with a relatively comfortable life combined with his job in construction of course. Construction might be his vice. He got away from home for 12 hours a day, and he worked so hard that his brain was mush by the time he was home. Not that he didn't love his son, he did, but every time he looked at Megumi he saw his sweet late wife. He also saw his short comings as a father.

Babysitters quit on him regularly. It was always the same excuse. "Megumi's an angel, but I can't be here 7 days a week. I have a life too." It was incredibly annoying. They'd stay for Megumi but left due to another one of his shortcomings.

Another one quit. That would be the third one this month. "Listen Mr. Fushiguro, I know a friend. She does this sort of thing on a different level. Have you ever considered having a live-in nanny?"

That stupid girl's question enlightened Toji. He had completely forgotten that live-in nannies still existed. After getting her friend's number and paying her what he owed her for her time, Toji relaxed on the couch with little Megumi tucked into his side. The three-year-old was happily babbling next to him, enamored by Toji's phone that was in his hand.

Toji looked at the number dialed into his phone, and he sighed. He was tired of making cold calls to potential babysitters like he was some desperate whore, but maybe, maybe this would be different. He wouldn't mind having a live-in nanny. His house wouldn't mind it either. Toji would be able to finally breathe. No more coming home from 12 hour shifts to pop something to eat in the microwave and wash the dishes. He wouldn't even have to see this so-called nanny often. He could pick up more hours at work with all of his new freedom of not having to worry about pissing off the babysitter.

*** *** ***

Either way, that's how you ended up in Toji's house. For the past three months you had taken care of Megumi, cleaned and deep cleaned his entire house, cooked him plenty of dinners from scratch, and even did his laundry the exact way he preferred. His house has never looked better, and Megumi had never looked so happy.

Despite being here for three months, you barely saw Toji. He seemed to avoid you like the plague and only answer with one-worded answers, which was fine. This was your job, not your actual family. There was no need for extensive communications. Though, you had gushed to your friend plenty over text about how hot "Mr. Fushiguro" was. He was conventionally attractive, yes. But you also always had a thing for the brooding types, and dammit, Toji was brooding. There was also something to be said about how he came home in the evenings. A black wifebeater clinging to his skin from a long day of working out in the sun. His jeans would be dirty from the work he was doing. His skin glistening from a thin sheen of sweat. His hair was always a mess. Goddammit. It was enough to make you feel fertile.

It was early in the morning, Toji was getting ready to go to work. Megumi had woken up, crying for his papa not to leave him. He's going through an extra clingy phase. He's usually okay once Toji's gone.

"Papa!" Megumi cried as Toji entered the living room. You had Megumi in your lap, rocking him with a sleepy look on your face. His tears were wetting your shirt, but you didn't seem to mind.

"He'll be back tonight, Gumi." You shooshed him and continued to try to rock him and pat his back.

Toji's face was unreadable. He was never one to get all upset over Megumi's crying, but hearing his son cry out for him tugged on his heartstrings extra this morning. Then, there was you. You were a godsend to Toji's life. Getting a live-in nanny was one of the best decisions he had ever made. Above that, you were excellent with Megumi. You were sweet... nurturing... patient. He hated how seeing you with his son made him feel. It almost felt like maybe 2 kids wouldn't be that big of a deal. Maybe 3. One on each of your legs and another one swelling in your belly. God. He was disgusted in himself for thinking like that.

"I love you, kiddo." Toji said quickly as he leaned down, giving Megumi's forehead a quick peck. The toddler made grabby hands for him. It was almost enough to make him stay home. Almost. Toji's eyes met yours as he was still leaned over. His face was close to yours. The tension between them were palpable. The moment felt like eternity between them.

Then, a black credit card was in view. "I need new work gloves. Get the extra thick rubber ones, will ya? Also, get whatever you and the kid want. I'll be back late tonight." He handed you the card and sauntered out of the house despite Megumi's pleas for him to stay. You looked at the Amex black card and blinked a couple of times. Only the top earners in the world had cards like this. Toji was just an average blue collar dad... It made you wonder how he got a card like this.

You still spent that shit though.

*** *** ***

Toji looked at his phone on the jobsite. No one dared to tell him to put it away. Toji was the best most competent worker out on the field. He could work circles around supervisors and project managers alike, and he was damn smart. He didn't need a pencil and paper or a calculator to make quick conversions in his head. So, most people stayed out of his way.

He smirked and chuckled at the notifications rolling in from his bank. 78.97 at Target. 21.25 at McDonald's. 43.52 at Barnes and Noble. 9.24 at Starbucks. He was happy you and Megumi were getting to have a little shopping spree.

You were also great at keeping him updated. You sent him lots of pictures and videos of Megumi. He cherished each one of them, immediately getting some of them printed and hung up in his house. There was even a picture of you and Megumi proudly displayed in the living room. In his mind, you were an integral part of the family. The "family" simply would not function if it weren't for you.

A fond smile spread across his face as he opened his messages. A picture of Megumi's little hands trying to fit into his new gloves that she had bought him. Great. She got the right ones. "I think he wants to be just like daddy :)", the message read.

Oh.

Oh.

The twitch that just occurred in his pants should be punishable in a court of law. In no way should he have gotten turned on by that. You were just being nice. It was a normal thing for people to refer to him as "daddy" in that context. It never affected him in the way it was right now.

So anyways, that's how he ended up in the port-a-potty busting a load all over a picture of you that he had on his phone. After the shock of his orgasm that came quicker than ever, he looked down, disappointed in himself. He wasn't some horny teenage boy anymore. This was just downright deplorable. Begrudgingly, he wiped his phone clean from his sins. Post-nut clarity swirled his brain. He couldn't believe he just did that.

He called your number. He had to make things right.

"Hello? Is everything okay?" You immediately asked. After living with Toji for some time now, you learned that he doesn't just call people. He will absolutely decline a call to just text and ask what's up.

"Everything is fine." He replied, trying to hide his amusement. It was cute that you seemed so worried for him. "Are you still in town?"

"Yeah, Megumi and I are about to leave Starbucks and head home. Why? What's up?" You responded back to him. He could hear Megumi happily singing a song in the background.

"You know you spent 152 dollars today?" Toji asked as he popped his back up against the port-a-potty door. He had a lazy smirk on his face.

"Oh- crap. I'm sorry. You can take whatever you see fit out of my pay-" He interrupted your nonsense quickly.

"Do you think I'm poor?" His voice was amused, not angry like you expected it to be.

"What-? No.. no, sir. I was just-"

"I told you to get whatever you and the kid want. Don't come back home until your certain that you can't carry the amount of stuff you bought in one trip." He said quickly. His stomach was already coiling from how you called him sir. He grimaced as he felt another twitch. I just took care of you dammit.

"Oh... oh, okay? Are you su-" Click. He hung up on you. One too many dumb questions. You looked at Megumi as he strapped into the backseat of your car. He looked intrigued by the conversation even though you knew he realistically had no idea what was just said. "Daddy said we have to go to the toy store." You grinned at him. He was smiling and clapping over the word "toy".

234.22 at Toys-R-Us. 122.56 at Lego. 208.38 at Aerie. 88.21 at Ulta Beauty. Another 94.48 at Barnes and Noble.

The way Toji grinned each time he felt that familiar vibration of his phone go off, meaning another notification from his bank was off-putting. Workers on the jobsite never seen him so happy. It was his penance for being such a horny freaky fuck.

*** *** ***

It was later that same evening. Megumi was in the living room surrounded by toys and crafting materials. He was currently drawing all sorts of "shadow animals" as he called them. You would of course look and nod your head, congratulating him on each terribly drawn animal. You acted like that was the best damn wolf-bear-owl hybrid you ever saw.

You were in the kitchen cooking chicken and dumplings. The clock on the stove read seven p.m. You didn't expect to see Toji at all this evening. He said he was working late this morning. Usually, that meant he was dragging his feet in through the door until well past ten p.m.

Still, you made him a serving of chicken and dumpling soup. You always did. Even when he worked late, you would put him a helping of dinner in the microwave to keep warm. You never knew, but he was always delighted by that. He ate the dinners each time.

A key jingling in the door handle caught your attention while you were getting Megumi settled at the dining room table. Three-year-olds were so hard to manage: too small to eat by themselves but too big to be locked in a high chair.

Toji stepped into the living room with a small grunt. He smirked as he looked around at his destroyed living room. Toys, crayons, and pieces of "artwork" were strewn all about the place. He glanced up towards you and Megumi in the kitchen. He took note of how your face was flushed and surprised.

"Papa!" Megumi happily shouted before the little bastard ran from your grasp to go hug on Toji's legs. His dad smiled as he looked down at Megumi, and he used his hand to mess up Megumi's hair affectionately.

"Go eat your food, kiddo." Toji said warmly to his son. Megumi happily obliged and ran right back to his seat right next to you, and you fed him a spoonful of the soup.

"You're home early." You stated the obvious.

Toji would never tell you, but he left early because he missed you two.

"Don't sound too happy to see me." He remarked in a sarcastic tone.

"What-? No, I just.. would've cleaned up more had I known you would be home so soon..." You responded. Megumi was sitting beside you whining for another bite of food. You snapped out of your surprise, and you fed him another bite of chicken and dumplings.

"Why? I don't give a damn what this place looks like." Toji said with a small nonchalant shrug. He walked through the living room, carefully stepping over the toys. Before you had become his nanny, this was how his house normally looked: messy, lived in. "I've got a bowl of dinner in the microwave. My kid's happy and fed. I couldn't care less what that living room looks like."

Your heart fluttered at the sentiment. Toji was easy to please. He really just wanted what was best for his kid, and that was you. "I like making sure you have nothing to worry about." You replied. He looked at you with an unreadable expression. It looked like he might've wanted to say something, but he had backed out last minute. He hummed and walked towards his bedroom to shower the dirt, sweat, and grime from the day.

While Toji showered, you had finished feeding Megumi and yourself. You allowed Megumi to have about an hour of TV time before bed. He really enjoyed old X-Men cartoons. You turned them on for him and parked him on the couch, wrapped up in a blanket.

You hummed softly as you worked in the kitchen. You packed meal prep containers of soup for Toji to take for lunch for the next couple of days. Then, you were washing dishes in front of the sink.

*** *** ***

"I like making sure you have nothing to worry about." Your words repeated in Toji's head over and over like a mantra. He hadn't felt so... cared for in a long, long time. It made his heart feel full, which was an unfamiliar feeling for him. A less unfamiliar feeling was his dick standing fully erect and at attention. He groaned quietly as he leaned his head back in the shower.

Something had to be in the air recently. He was a grown man with desires, sure. But this was a new record for him. Ever since you started being a live-in nanny for him, the boners were a daily thing. Hell, twice or three times a day sometimes. He's tried everything... Well, okay, maybe not everything, but he's tried cold showers and staying away from you. Neither of those things work to soothe him.

His hand was gliding up and down his length for the second time today. He was facing the shower wall with his arm propped up on it, supporting his head. Damn you for making him feel like a slave to his desires. You wanted to make sure he had nothing to worry about? Then, you should be the one in here fixing this damn mess, not him. He pitifully rutted into his hand, imaging he's plunging deep into you. Imagining the multiple ways he'd fuck the hell out of you is the only thing that soothes the ache, but this time he didn't see an end in sight.

He gritted his teeth together, and he balled up his fist, rearing back before stopping himself. He's not a teenager anymore. He can't punch walls. He took a deep breath and turned the shower off. No, this won't do. He needs to fix this at the source.

After quickly drying off and getting dressed, he walked back into the kitchen. His eyes scanned over the house. Megumi was enthralled by the TV, and you were washing dishes. Perfect.

He slowly approached you from behind. He could tell you didn't hear him as you were still softly humming. Usually, you would stop humming if he entered the kitchen. He never understood why. The sounds of your melancholic hums were beautiful and soothing to him.

He was directly behind you, and his hands gently cupped your hips. You immediately flinched and made a soft scream that was quickly silenced by one of his hands. "Shh, we don't want to disturb the little brat, do we?" Toji said into your ear. His warm breath ghosted over the shell of your ear, making you shiver.

Toji's eyes flicked over towards the living room. Megumi hadn't moved an inch. Perfect.

Toji slowly released your mouth. To his delight, you didn't make a sound. He could hear how your breath was slightly labored from him scaring you. A small chuckle rose from his throat. His hands went back to your hips, and he pressed himself against your voluptuous ass. A hum of approval escaped him. He could see your hands gripping the countertops.

"Nod your head. You like this? Want me to keep pressing myself against you?" Toji whispered into your ear. You took your bottom lip between your teeth, and you nodded your head eagerly, giving him consent.

"Dirty fucking girl." His voice was like a growl in your ear as he started to move his hips, dragging his length up and down along you. You could feel each inch of his length beckoning for you. "I knew you'd take whatever I gave you, but this? Letting me grind against you like a pathetic teenager while my son is in the living room? You're such a fucking slut." His hands were digging into your hips as he continued his controlled motions.

"Mnn.. fuck.." You softly whimpered out. Thank god the X-Men were currently in a loud fight scene.

You slightly frowned as you suddenly didn't feel Toji behind you anymore. You were about to turn around and ask what he was doing, but his fingers curling into the waistband of your leggings told you everything you needed to know. "Toji-" You managed to whisper out. No way could you two do this while Megumi was in the next room over.

"Shut up." Toji interrupted you. He had taken his throbbing length out of his sleeping pants, and he had a look of concentration on his face as he angled himself right at your entrance. "You have no fucking idea how long I've needed this. So just be a good girl, shut up, and take what I give you."

Direct orders from your boss. Who were you to deny the man who just spoiled you all day today?

It was a tight fit. Toji wasn't a gentleman. He didn't prep you with his fingers or mouth. This wasn't love making. It was hardly fucking. This was fulfilling a need.

"God... fuck. I didn't expect you to be that tight." He growled into your neck as he held your hips still against him. It felt like he was splitting you apart. You couldn't even respond to him.

He noticed how tightly you were gripping the counter and how you weren't responding to him. Your knuckles were turning white. He almost felt guilty. His hand came around the front of you, and he gently rubbed the swollen bundle of nerves. "Shhh... You can take it. I know you can." He whispered into your ear as it was taking every last shred of self-restraint not to fuck you into oblivion right on this counter. He slowly pulled back until just his tip was inside, and he pushed all the way back in. "That's it. There's my good girl." He praised in your ear. It was not lost on him that he felt you get wetter with each praise.

He hesitated, but he said it anyway, "You wanna be a good girl for daddy, don't you?" He whispered into your ear. That phrase made you tremble in his arms and nod your head. He slowly pulled back out and pushed right back in, taking you slowly. "That's right... hngh, fuck." He moaned into your ear. "You want to be fucked by daddy. You want to take his cock like a good girl. Take it." His hips started to move with more conviction.

You were already so out of it. This was like a dirty fantasy come true. You couldn't help but check the TV a few times to make sure X-Men was still playing. You were still worried that Megumi might run in here for whatever reason and see you bent over in front of his dad. You knew it was unlikely. Megumi could watch that TV like a zombie all day if you let him. Besides, you would be able to hear the small pitter-patter of his footsteps.

"Stop looking at the fucking TV. Trust me." Toji growled into your ear as he forced your hips down onto him roughly. A noiseless gasp escaped you. He wasn't small, and he knew that. He was using it to his advantage.

"Fuck." He groaned quietly as he rubbed you with a bit more fervor. You could already feel that familiar warm feeling coiling in your stomach. "I'm going to fuck a baby into you. You were fucking made for this. Made for raising my kids and taking my fucking load." He was spewing nonsense into your ear, but in the moment, you couldn't help but nod and moan. "You were made for me." He proclaimed as his hips continued harshly snapping into your backside. Somehow the sounds were masked.

"You want that, don't you?" He asked as he bit down on your neck then lapped at the bite mark with his tongue.

"Yes, daddy!" You quietly exclaimed. His thrusts only increased in power. Your eyes started to cross, getting lost in pleasure.

"Fuck. You're gonna look so perfect pregnant with my baby. I won't let you have a break. As soon as one comes out; I'm puttin' another one in you." He continued on yapping about how many kids he was going to pump into you. "I'll breed you again and again." His thrusts were heavy and brutal. You couldn't take it anymore.

He moaned as he felt you clenching around him, finishing all over his cock. It was enough to drive him overboard. He pumped you full of cum until you were sure some of it was seeping out.

There was a peaceful moment of dizzy highness for you two. Toji panted against your back. For the first time in while, he's felt satisfied. A soft amused laugh escaped him as he heard the iconic X-Men episode coming to an end. He swiftly pulled out of you, and he tried to ignore that little whimper of protest you let out. He tucked himself back into his pants, and he pulled your leggings and panties back up for you since you were still a trembling mess over the counter.

"Alright Kiddo, c'mon. Time for bed." Toji said as he sauntered off into the living room as if he didn't just rearrange your guts. He put Megumi to bed that night, and he cleaned up the living room for you, allowing for you to recover in his bed for round two. He was much more of a gentleman for round two.

*** *** ***

"Hey... I know I ain't been to see you in a while. I'm sorry." Toji said as he sat down on the grassy ground. "I was letting life pass me by for too damn long." He said as he took a wet washcloth and began to wash up his late wife's gravestone. "I'm doing better now, so don't worry about me."

"Megumi's growing like a weed. I'm sorry I didn't bring him to see you... I just don't know how to explain it to him." Toji's voice was full of guilt as he dragged the wet washcloth against the stone. "He's a good kid though. He looks just like you, damn bastard." He softly laughed, knowing his wife would've struck him over the side of the head for calling Megumi a damn bastard.

"Listen... I met a girl." He leaned his head over the gravestone. It had been close to three months since you and Toji started sleeping together. There wasn't a formal label to your relationship, but it didn't feel necessary. You two both knew you were sleeping exclusively with each other. "I think you'd like her, or maybe you wouldn't since she's fucking your husband. But either way... I-" He choked up a bit as he held onto the cold stone. "I feel so fucking guilty... I know you're not coming home anytime soon, but I just... I need your blessing. If you can somehow hear me, please... I never asked you for anything until I asked you to marry me. Now, I'm asking... please somehow show me you approve of this."

"She's good for me... She takes good care of Megumi. He's so damn attached to her somedays." Toji softly laughed as he remembered how a few nights ago Megumi crawled into bed with you and him because he had a nightmare. Instead of taking to Toji like he normally does, he crawled into your arms. Toji had never felt so damn proud and slighted at the same time.

"I should get going. Give me a sign though.. Something that tells me you approve." He finished his visit with his wife, and he went home.

*** *** ***

That night at dinner, Megumi sped into the kitchen with an action figure in his hand. He was pretending to be Batman. "Gumi, I've told you three times. Stop running." You said as you gave the small child a look. Toji smirked as he knew that look good and well. It was the look a mom gave as a warning. Megumi was on his last warning.

"I'm sorry, mama." Megumi apologized, causing for both you and Toji to freeze right in your tracks. Megumi had never called you mama before. He always said your name.

Your heart swelled in your chest. It was a feeling of affection and guilt. "Oh no... baby.." You said softly as you took his hand. You lead him into the living room, and you crouched down, showing him a picture of his mom to him. "That's mama." You gently corrected him.

Toji watched the scene like a hawk from the dinner table. His heart was pounding in his chest. He had never been shy about telling Megumi who his mom was, but he hadn't exactly been forthcoming about how his mom passed away when he was a small baby.

Megumi pointed at the picture. "Mama." He said quietly. You nodded and patted his head.

"That's right." You praised affectionately. He then turned his attention to you. and he poked your chest with his tiny finger.

"Mama." He said, pointing at you.

"No-"

"It's alright." Toji spoke up from his seat at the dinner table.

"I don't want him to be confused..." You replied as you slowly stood back up, looking at Toji.

"He doesn't sound confused to me." He retorted with a small grin. You turned your attention back to Megumi, and Toji looked up towards the ceiling. "Thank you." He muttered so quietly before kissing the necklace that hung around his neck. He had his wife's blessing. This proved it.

After finishing his dinner, Toji joined you two in the living room. You and Megumi were curled up on each side of his while watching that old X-Men cartoon. Suddenly, Megumi rose from the couch. You and Toji watched him with a hint of confusion.

"What is he doing?" You softly asked Toji as Megumi bent over, and he looked between his legs at both you and Toji.

"I have no fucking id-" He was about to respond, but then, it hit him. "Get up." He said as he stood up from the couch. He quickly grabbed his phone, keys, and wallet like a madman.

"What? What? Is something wrong?" You asked as you had never seen Toji move this fast. You quickly got up too.

"Nothing's wrong. Come on. We're going to the store." He grunted as he swooped Megumi into his arms.

You were confused and in denial when Toji bought a pregnancy test and made you take it. Now, both of you were waiting outside of the bathroom for the five minutes to be over. "This is crazy, Toji. I'm not pregnant."

"It's an old wives' tale. When babies do that, it's supposed to mean their looking for their sibling." Toji said with a nonchalant shrug as if what he said was matter-of-fact. "My mother told me that's how she knew she was pregnant with me."

The timer went off on his phone, and both of you fought to get into the bathroom first. He eventually overpowered you and snatched the pregnancy test off the counter quickly. "Oh." He said quietly. The room went still.

Suddenly, your heart was racing. "What is it? Is it negative?" You asked a hint of disappointment hit you. You didn't know why, but a small part of you hoped for it to be positive.

"Oh, you're fucking getting it tonight." Toji smirked as he turned the pregnancy test over. Two pink lines were clear as day on the test. You're pregnant.

Tags: @lemonlimecrystal-blog @theuniversesnepobaby

[natolesims]

🌟Joyful January🌟

CAS Challenge by @honeysylvan

New Years | Flowers | Cozy + Lavender

Rain + Scarf | Honey | Snowflakes

[ari-ana-bel-la]

hey lovie i was wondering if you could do an imagine where 2 year old baby Russell spends day with her Uncle Alex and Auntie Lily please 🥺🥺

Strawberry Fields

The morning sun cast a golden glow over the paddock as George pressed a kiss to his daughter’s forehead. Yn giggled, her small arms wrapped around his neck.

“Be good for Uncle Alex and Auntie Lily, okay?” he murmured.

Yn nodded enthusiastically, her curls bouncing. Carmen, standing beside them, smiled warmly. “She’s going to have the best time. Right, sweetheart?”

“Stwawbewwies!” Yn chirped, clapping her little hands together.

Lily chuckled as she reached out to take Yn’s tiny hand. “That’s right! We’re going to pick the biggest, juiciest strawberries ever.”

Alex, standing beside her, ruffled Yn’s hair. “And we’ll make sure to bring some back for you two.”

George sighed, pretending to be dramatic. “Guess we’ll just have to survive without her for a whole day.”

Carmen laughed. “You’ll be fine. Have fun, baby,” she added, kissing Yn’s cheek.

And with that, the trio set off, heading to a beautiful strawberry field just outside of town.

The drive was peaceful, with Lily playing some soft music while Alex entertained Yn with silly faces in the backseat. She giggled, eyes twinkling with excitement.

“Uncle Lex, funny!” she declared, causing Lily to laugh.

“I try,” Alex said with a grin. “It’s my best skill, you know.”

Soon, they arrived at the field, stretching wide and lush under the summer sky. Rows and rows of bright red strawberries glistened in the sun, and the fresh scent of ripe fruit filled the air.

Yn, securely holding her tiny play stroller, looked around with wide eyes. “So many!” she gasped.

Lily crouched down beside her. “You ready to pick some?”

Yn nodded eagerly, gripping Lily’s hand as they walked towards the entrance. Alex grabbed a small basket and slung a bag over his shoulder for the extras.

“Okay, Yn,” Alex said, squatting to her level. “You pick the best ones, and Auntie Lily and I will help.”

Yn pouted slightly. “I do it myself!”

Lily and Alex exchanged amused glances. “Alright, alright,” Lily said. “You’re the boss.”

They started walking between the rows, Yn stopping every so often to examine a strawberry carefully before placing it in her stroller instead of the basket.

“Uh, sweetheart,” Alex began. “The berries go in here.” He tapped the basket.

Yn frowned. “But stroller…”

Lily laughed. “She has a system, Alex. Let her do her thing.”

Shrugging, Alex complied, though he had to bite back a smile as he watched Yn methodically fill her tiny stroller with strawberries. Every once in a while, she would hand one to Lily, who would pretend to inspect it before putting it in the real basket.

After a while, Lily decided to give Yn a little treat. Holding up a particularly plump berry, she asked, “Would you like a taste, sweetheart?”

Yn’s eyes widened, and she eagerly opened her mouth. Lily carefully fed her the strawberry, cupping her small chin to catch any juice that might escape.

“Yummy!” Yn declared, licking her lips. “More?”

Lily grinned. “Maybe a little later, or else we won’t have any left.”

Yn huffed but nodded, happily resuming her mission.

Meanwhile, Alex found himself in charge of pushing the ridiculously tiny play stroller whenever Yn wanted to use both hands to pick berries.

“This is… definitely my biggest challenge yet,” he muttered, maneuvering the little stroller through the uneven ground.

Lily smirked. “You handle it well.”

“Should’ve been a professional stroller-pusher instead of a racer,” he joked.

Yn, overhearing him, turned with a serious expression. “No, Uncle Lex. You dwive fast.”

Both adults burst into laughter. “Well, I’m glad you approve,” Alex said, ruffling her hair again.

As the afternoon wore on, Yn began to slow down, her little hands rubbing at her eyes.

Lily noticed and leaned down. “Tired, sweetheart?”

Yn nodded sleepily. “Sleepy.”

Without hesitation, Alex scooped her up, settling her against his chest. She let out a tiny sigh, curling into him. Her little arms wrapped loosely around his neck.

“Guess it’s naptime,” Alex murmured, adjusting her to make sure she was comfortable.

Lily took the stroller from him, shaking her head fondly. “I hope George and Carmen realize what an angel they have.”

“Oh, they know,” Alex chuckled. “But we’ll send them proof just in case.”

Lily pulled out her phone and snapped a picture of Yn snuggled against Alex, her little hand clutching his shirt. Then another of Alex, now carrying both Yn and her beloved stroller, an amused expression on his face.

She sent the pictures to Carmen and George, adding a simple caption: A successful day of strawberry picking. Yn is officially the cutest.

Almost instantly, Carmen responded: I might cry. This is adorable.

Then George: Tell Alex not to get too comfortable. That’s MY little girl.

Lily laughed as she showed the messages to Alex, who smirked. “Tell George he has competition.”

Lily typed back: Too late, George. I think she’s switching teams.

They shared another quiet laugh before making their way back to the car, where Yn slept soundly in Alex’s arms, her tiny stroller tucked safely beside them.

Later that evening, when they returned to the paddock, George and Carmen met them at the entrance.

���Did you have fun, baby?” Carmen asked as Yn rubbed her eyes, waking up.

“Stwawbewwies,” she mumbled sleepily, making them all chuckle.

George took her from Alex’s arms, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “I think that means she had the best day.”

Lily handed Carmen the basket of strawberries. “She was very dedicated to picking only the best ones.”

Carmen smiled. “Thank you both for today.”

Alex and Lily exchanged a glance before Alex said, “Anytime. She’s the best.”

Yn, still sleepy, peeked up at Alex. “Uncle Lex?”

“Yes, sweetheart?”

She reached out, patting his cheek. “I love you.”

Alex’s heart melted instantly. “I love you too, munchkin.”

George sighed dramatically. “Alright, alright, she can have Alex as your favourite uncle.”

They all laughed, knowing that this was just one of many perfect days to come.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♥︎♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Authors Note: Hey loves. I hope you enjoyed reading this story. My requests are always open for you.

-🩷🎀

[elysianightsss]

No because girl you NEEDDDDDD to elaborate on this -> Soulmate AU. Poly!141 x neurodivergent!reader <- I will die happily

Elaboratingggggggg🤭🫠

-

You didn’t think that you’d get this far in life, many reasons spring to mind but the main one is you’re a little different than most people. You can’t cope with certain things and struggle with change. You remember growing up your family would brush off your ‘issues’ and say to just deal with it. How little they understood you.

Moving out was the best decision you ever made, the only change you have ever been happy about. It was necessary and would make your life so much easier on a level only you could understand. You could set up your space the way you like it, the way you need it. And with just you, no one would mess with your stuff just to see you loose it as it was ‘funny’ or move things to suit them better.

This way, you could live in peace.

Task force 141 had just finished a successful mission, camping out in one of the many secret safe houses as they waited for further instructions when they had sent Johnny to the shop for supplies. That’s where he saw you, in a Sainsbury’s supermarket of all places, headphones tight over your ears to block out the world while you tried to decide if the extra two, ninety-nine was worth it or not for the soothing lavender face mask you wanted.

Johnny was quick to subtly snap a picture of you and even go as far as to follow you home before bolting it back to the guys to tell them he’d finally found you. Their last soulmate.

As soon as Johnny showed them the image of you, that was it for them. They had to have you. A burning need coursing through their veins, pumping around their bodies. Nothing would ever be enough until they had you in their arms.

But as said and as they observed themselves, you don’t cope with change.

So they had to situate themselves into your life slowly, one by one.

Johnny and Simon moved in next door to you, and lived there for seven months slowly getting to know you and obviously spying on you. They gradually began to understand you and your cute quirks. They know that you eat the same thing for dinner every night, you use the same plate or bowl and wash it straight after use to make sure it is ready for next time.

You have one set of cutlery, one glass and one mug. Two pillows though you only sleep on one and use the other to hug to sleep. And to top it all off you have one recliner chair and one massive beanbag chair that makes you feel like you’re being hugged tight each time you sit on it. It gives you the deep pressure therapy you desperately need at times.

The guys found your habits strange at first but the more time they spent with you, the more they began to understand you. Understand your need for order, for repetition. And they had experienced first hand what happens when change was forced into your safe space.

Johnny had the bright idea to gift you a set of cutlery a few weeks ago so when he and Simon came round for dinner as they did every Thursday for the past four months, they didn’t have to bring cutlery and plates from their own place, it would already be there.

Simon said it was a bad idea but he couldn’t say no to Johnny, not with how happy he looked while he picked out some pretty baby blue plates and silver cutlery with little mushrooms painted at the end. He boasted to Simon about how much you’d love them while they stood in the queue to pay.

He was wrong.

After dinner was cooked you plated up the food no problem thinking the pretty plates were from their house. Then you opened the kitchen drawer only to hear the clutter and smash of cutlery rubbing together. The sound made a ringing pierce your ears, your hands reaching up to cover them. It was like nails on a chalkboard to you. The sound you heard making you panic beyond measure, your breathing out of control as you slid to your knees.

Johnny’s smile dropped and he sprung into action using the deep pressure therapy you had told him about with your beanbag chair. Simon was quick to removed the extra plates and cutlery from where Johnny had put them and take them back to their place before returning ready to help. He knew he’d need to call John and let him know you had had an episode, but helping you came first.

So you liked constant repetition. If it made you happy, that was absolutely fine with them.

Kyle got himself hired as a barista at your favourite cafe, he learned your usual and practiced at home to make sure every morning when you stopped by on the way to work to drink your coffee and sit with your laptop for twenty minutes, you’d have the perfect drink. He made absolutely sure that it tasted the same every single time. No change.

After a couple of months of smiles and waves here and there he finally got you to open up. Baby steps. A little at a time and now Kyle was taking his twenty minute break at your table while you typed up something for work. You always worked so hard. But he managed to get a few sentences out of you each time and it made his heart sing.

And last but not least, John became your new boss after your last one mysteriously got caught for money laundering. Mr Price was an amazing boss, he didn’t ask for much and was always giving you big opportunities that you’d only ever dreamed of. You had been promoted twice since he became the CEO.

You were now executive editor under him as the chief editor at one of the best publishers in the country. Pirons Classics, number two in the UK and number four in the World. To say the guys were proud that you worked there in the first place was an understatement. Their smart girl.

He called you sweet nicknames and brought you lunch everyday. The same thing, a pesto and cheese sandwich and a snack of your choosing from the vending machines. You don’t remember when it started but you were always too shy to say anything so it became a regular thing.

If you were to sit and think real hard about the situation you would realise how changes had been introduced into your life ever since the four of them appeared. But they were subtle changes and you genuinely couldn’t remember a time when these changes weren’t normal. On top of that, these four men were the only people besides yourself, that you felt comfortable, relaxed and content around.

So for the first time you don’t sit and think, for the first time you just let it happen and you don’t notice the difference.

Johnny and Simon were more involved with you than the other two. They were the closest to you currently with the status of your best friends which Johnny most certainly bragged to the other two about. You had known them for almost a year now and they didn’t exactly hide their romantic relationship but didn’t exactly flaunt it either.

You had found it kinda hot when you saw them kiss and even though it was unusual for you, you luckily managed to keep your mouth shut about it.

You had no idea they had noticed.

[bellatrixscurls]

group activities ii

part one here

pairing : fem reader x slytherin gang x golden trio.

warnings : SMUT. slight choking, nipple play, reader is a virgin, oral (f receiving), dirty talk, teasing, pet names, reader almost has a panic attack, talk of virginity and sex. lmk if i missed any! :)

summary : the slytherin boys have their way with you, but what about those who get left out?

a/n : i hope this is what you expected, feedback is greatly appreciated and needed.

────── ☾ ──────

the next days were a blur. you were not ignoring your friends any longer, but you could tell that they were treating you rather differently.

first, ron started to hold the door for you, theo brought you extra sweets from honeydukes and draco would give you his homework without you even asking.

what was happening? you were almost positive you knew the reason behind it all. so, whilst in transfiguration, you slipped hermione a note.

“can i see you after class?”

she looked at you, a confused expression on her face, but she nodded nonetheless.

you smiled appreciatively and went back to listening to professor mcgonagall, not remotely aware of the pairs of eyes following your every move: tom, mattheo and blaise.

they were concerned. well, they did have a reason to be - you weren’t ignoring them any longer, but you were acting rather differently, not really giving them the time of the day either.

“what do you think she wrote?” blaise nodded his head in your direction, nervously playing with his feather.

mattheo looked up, his eyes focused on the back of your head as if he could read your mind. but seeing that it was no use, his head dropped on the desk. “if only we knew someone who’s learned the art of occlumency.”

“she’s wondering why you lot are acting so unusual since that day” tom hummed, rolling his eyes as he neatly put his notebook back in his school bag. “and it’s legilimency, idiot.”

blaise winced incredulously as he looked back at his friend. “us? i’m sorry you wanna be picked so bad that you’re willing to act nonchalant and humble about it.”

“it’s a skill” he smirked, finally standing up to leave as professor mcgonagall dismissed the class.

“you know, sometimes i feel like we’re so alike” mumbled mattheo happily, earning a dangerous glare from his brother.

watching them whisper to one another, you shook your head - mattheo shoved his brother, who, as unbothered as ever, brushed a hand over his robes while exiting the class.

and you could bet you knew the reason.

“ready to go?” hermione’s soft voice pulled you out of your thoughts, her smile bright as she looked at you.

“sure” you returned the smile, ushering her out of the room with a hand at the small of her back. and once you were positive you were out of earshot, the other students already heading towards the great hall, you spoke up. “listen, i know how this might seem, but you’re the only girl in the group… what’s gotten into them?”

she sighed, using her middle and pointer finger to rub at her temple; this was a discussion she thought she’d never have to have again, not with another girl anyway.

“they… they want you to pick them. each of them wants to be the one to claim your virginity. to claim you.”

“to claim me?” you were beyond confused, you really didn’t think your virginity was such a big deal. at least to you it wasn’t. “have they done the same to you? when you were- you know.”

she laughed softly at your nervousness, gently rubbing your back through your robe. “have you met them? of course they did. but- well, yes, they did.”

your ears perked up at her hesitation. “but?” you questioned rather alarmedly. “but what, mione?”

she took a deep breath before speaking, and you hated how that made your stomach churn. “they were not as possessive back then. they weren’t aware how much it meant. because whoever it is that you choose to do it with, it creates a special bond between you. it’s the first person you feel comfortable doing these things with, the first who gets to kiss every inch of your skin, explore your body” it looked like she was in a haze, daydreaming of the day she’d lost hers.

“oh, i understand” you nodded slowly. “so… who took yours?” you asked even though you could already guess.

“enzo” bingo. and how could you not guess? they were practically always together, always looking out after each other.

humming, you fell deep in thought. how could you ever choose between them? they were all your friends, and you’d never forgive yourself if your decision would hurt any of them or make them feel left out.

so you shook your head, toying with the ring on her finger as you leaned back against the wall. “i could never choose, mione. i don’t want to. i don’t want this to be such a big deal, i just want to get it over with so we can move on and fuck unlimitedly.”

your words made her burst out laughing, softly biting on her lip as a few students passed, and she took your hand in hers, guiding you to to the great hall too. “if you want to be a part of this, you will have to choose. but they won’t pressure you, if there’s one thing that they hate is feeling like they pressured each other into doing something, especially sexual… you have time.”

you nodded and finally, reaching the table, you sat down between draco and tom. “good morning” you greeted softly as you started filling your plate, your mind wandering.

“hey, y/n/n” theo reached over the table to squeeze your hand, a sincere smile on his lips, before draco kicked him under the table, the older boy hissing as he glared at him.

you didn’t really notice that though, you were too busy trying to figure out what you were gonna do.

but the boys seemed to notice that. the way you, so absentmindedly pushed at your meal with your fork, the boiled eggs smashing and the yolk leaking out of them. “woah, what have they done to you, sweetheart?” enzo’s voice was teasing, but in his own soft, characteristic way.

you looked at him, and he frowned at the confused, almost lost look on his face. then back at your eggs, your meal positively looking like a crime scene. “sorry” your voice was soft, barely audible. “m sorry, i’m not even hungry. i don’t know why i even took them.”

your nerves were growing and everyone could sense that, hence why they all shared concerned glances and only tom dared to speak. “can you focus on me? look at me, please” his voice was not like anything you’d heard before. it was soft and gentle, and he placed a hand on your arm, his slender, pale fingers squeezing loosely.

looking up at him, you tried your best to focus on his eyes. his eyes were so beautiful, a gorgeous shade of a deeper blue, and you could swear that you saw the ghost of a smile on his lips, but he quickly regained composure. “do you want to go back to the common room? lay down on your dorm maybe?” he asked and you nodded, arm curling around his own as he stood up, taking you with him.

🤍

you all but threw yourself on the bed, the boys sitting around you - tom and blaise were sitting on the rug by your bed, theo on your armchair, all while draco, enzo and mattheo shared the couch.

“i’m sorry” your voice made them perk up, their expressions almost unreadable, but one thing was for sure - they would do anything to make it better.

“what for, lovie?” asked blaise, his hand twitching as he almost grabbed your hand, but decided against it.

you sighed, mind wandering back to the day before. you had done the same thing : you moped around on the great hall and they had to take you back to the common room. “i’m being a baby. i just… i don’t want to choose.”

theo frowned. “choose what, dolcezza?”

“between you guys” avoiding their eyes, you started playing with tom’s family ring, his hand on the bed just by your head. “i talked to hermione today, and she explained the whole special bond thing, but i… i like all of you. i don’t want a special bond.”

enzo blushed, trying his best to hide his face by leaning his head forward, chin resting on his chest. mattheo nudged him playfully, messing up his perfect hair and causing the boy to whine.

“oh, baby” draco’s voice was soft as he approached the bed, but not before slapping enzo on his crotch. before you knew it, the bed dipped slightly and draco sat by your side, looking down at you lovingly. “we’ve been stupid, making you feel like you had to choose one of us to be your first. we’ve done stupid things and you’ve almost had a panic attack because of it.”

you didn’t say anything, just looked up at him, and the boys all seemed to had gotten closer too. “i don’t want any of you to feel less important. i’ll gladly let you all fuck me.”

you hadn’t realized what you said before it was too late, and even you were shocked. the boys all looked at you like you’d grown two more heads, and you flushed furiously, cheeks now a deep crimson.

“is that right, sweet thing? look at her, boys” mattheo’s voice was taunting, his signature smirk widening as he took a few steps closer to you. “i believe this poor thing only wants us all to feel good, to be able to feel her tight pussy for the first time ever. how sweet is that?”

“so sweet” theo’s voice had turned a lot deeper, need present in his tone. he had that look on his face. the one you’d seen before, directed at you.

“whenever you’re ready, angel, and whoever has you first…” blaise grinned, his hand coming down to caress your voice, your chest rising up and down rapidly. “this pussy’s not going unruined.”

your breath got caught in your throat and you almost choked at the intensity of it all. heat pooled in your tummy as they looked at you, hunger evident in their prying eyes.

“i want it” it was a soft whisper, a breathless, needy confirmation. and when tom’s eyes found yours, you knew you were in for it.

he was usually the most composed one, but in these past couple of days, he’d shocked you. he could be loving, caring and could even lose his composure around the right people. you’d seen glimpses of it before, but never like this, never so vulnerably.

his eyes seemed to twitch, so subtle that you almost missed it. he finally standed, making you feel small under his gaze. “how about we get her wet first, boys? oh, wait-” you didn’t expect it, but in the blink of an eye, tom had pulled your skirt up over your hips, curling two fingers around the hem of your panties.

you were drenched. you couldn’t even get out the gasp that was hanging in your throat, because his fingers just felt so good on your throbbing clit. everyone was silent as he worked on you, spreading your wetness over your slit and holes. “she’s so wet already. what’s gotten you so wet, baby?”

finally managing to gasp and whimper needily, you looked up at him, and he smirked at your helpless state. you looked limp and he fucking loved every second of it.

“answer tom, pretty. he might just stop making you feel good if you don’t” mattheo came to stand at his brother’s side, one arm resting against tom’s shoulder, and for the first time, he didn’t push him away or make a snarky remark. “you know how he gets.”

you whimpered out a soft ‘you’ and that instantly made tom’s eyes sparkle. in a moment of weakness, his thumb started rubbing your clit, and before you knew it, mattheo started massaging over your hole with two fingers. it was a feeling that you could not describe. nothing that you’d felt before.

their fingers felt so good on you, far better than all those time you had gotten off on your own. “t-tom- matty, please” you cried out, your legs begging to shake from the pleasure you were receiving. the way tom was pressing against you, and how mattheo was so close to making you scream on his fingers - it made you dizzy.

“ow, angel” draco was still sitting beside you, his eyes watching you and studying your reactions very carefully. he raised his hand and started stroking your jaw, his cold fingers making you shiver as the boys continued their assault on your cunt, causing you to jolt when tom would occasionally press too hard on your clit.

you looked up at the blond, growing more desperate to have all of their hands on you, your nipples getting harder and achy by the minute. he saw the way you shifted, and when your hard nipples pressed against your white top, the corner of his lips tilted upwards.

“you need my hands, y/n/n?” his hand slowly made its way down your neck, squeezing at the base of it for merely a second before it slid lower. you shivered in anticipation and he carefully pulled your top down, freeing your boobs - you were not wearing a bra. he groaned. “fuck, what are you doing to me?” and he looked into your eyes as if he was really waiting for an answer, but unfortunately you couldn’t give it to him if you wanted.

truth be told, you had not planned any of this. it all just worked out in your favour.

he brought both his hands to cup your breasts, squeezing gently as he watched them bounce back to their original shape, nipples looking eager to be - licked, bitten, tortured - by him.

draco wanted to tease you, he really did. but you looked way too delicious, so he didn’t hesitate and started sucking greedily on your nipple, one of his hands squeezing and pulling at the other one. you could hear him, even if your ears were ringing due to tom and mattheo’s attempts to make you lose your mind. draco was panting, not wanting to pull away from your boobs for one second. it really was a sight for sore eyes.

“feels g-good” you moaned loudly and tangled your fingers in his hair, your attention finally turning back to the boys between your thighs.

mattheo cleared his throat and when you looked at them, tom was wearing an annoyed expression. “didn’t forget about us, did you?” he asked pointedly, and retracted his hand, leaving you squirming for more.

but before you had the chance to blurt out an apology, mattheo spoke up. “i think you’re wet enough, sugar.”

but he didn’t continue, he didn’t make you feel like you had to do something more than that. he left it up to you.

“i want enzo to eat me out” your voice was small and said boy looked at you in shock, that it almost made you take your words back. but before you could do it, he was already on his feet - ready to do anything you pleased.

hermione had told you that enzo was good with his hands and mouth, and you were doing nothing but trying to test that theory.

he looked beyond excited as he looked at your cunt. it was glistening with wetness and a bit of sweat, and your clit looked mouth-watering; it was so swollen and hard.

“you are beautiful” was all enzo said before he buried himself between your legs, his hands holding you as if you were made of glass. “so so beautiful, you look divine” his voice was breathy as he nosed at your clit, pressing a soft kiss there.

draco, on the other hand, was grazing his teeth against your sensitive buds, making your toes curl and your pussy throb at the sensation. his mouth was perfection.

sponging a wet kiss on his temple, a broken cry was ripped from your throat as enzo slipped two fingers inside you, much too easily. his tongue sucked at the bundle of nerves that was your clit, sometimes exploring your sopping folds. “so sweet” he mumbled against you, his mouth not once leaving your heat as he curled his fingers inside of you, hitting a spot that made your eyes roll back into your skull.

“thank you, thank you, thank you-” tears were streaming down your face as you watched the other boys through blurry eyes.

mattheo and tom were jerking off, their cocks red and looking painfully hard, whilst blaise was watching the scene in front of him intently, and you did see his fingers twitching, probably needing to grab at you, but not daring to.

“kiss me” it was a broken plea that earned you quite a few confused glances, even enzo looking at you curiously from between your legs, not once resuming his work. “blaise- baby, kiss me” you whimpered, and kissing you he did.

he pressed his lips against yours, his hand gripping your jaw and holding you in place as he dominated the kiss. he tugged at your bottom lip and you whined, chasing his mouth. “so fucking needy” he groaned and smashed his lips against yours again; the kiss was messy, all tongue and teeth, spit glistening on your chin. “you just need us all, don’t you? you need us to please this desperate, perfect body of yours.”

his teeth sank into the underside of your jaw and you yelped in pain, your fingers digging into the back of his neck. “yes, yes i do!- i’m- i need all of you, i need you to make me feel good.”

“atta girl” mattheo spoke up as he tugged at his cock, his eyes moving from your cunt to your bare chest. “are they making you feel good, angel?”

you hummed and felt the knot in your belly about to snap, enzo now sucking harshly and bullying his fingers into your cunt at a pace that had your legs trembling uncontrollably, but fortunately draco was there to catch you. he placed a firm hand on your thigh, grounding you as he kept sucking and biting at the tender flesh.

“m gonna cum” you choked out and started shaking again, this time not even draco’s force being able to help calm you down. “please, please- i need to cum” you asked for permission, but you didn’t even know who was it that you were asking.

enzo used his free hand to caress your belly, his sweet eyes looking up at you. lost in them, you didn’t even notice when theo stood and walked over to you, his fingers forcing you to look up at him as he spoke lowly, his voice firm and steady. “look up at me when you do” he demanded and you nodded fervently, biting at your bottom lip.

in a matter of seconds, you were cumming. your heart was racing - so much so that it felt like it was trying to get out of your chest - you were sweating and your hands were gripping at anything you could find - draco’s shoulders, enzo’s hair, the sheets.

your walls spasmed around enzo’s skilled fingers, your clit fluttering as he sucked on it, refusing to let go as he moaned against you, his eyes rolling back as he started humping the bed. your cum was heavenly - the taste, how it dripped down his fingers, everything was pure perfection.

and what was even better? theo’s eyes were analysing your every move. how your lips pursed, how your muscles tensed - the way your eyes watered as you struggled to keep them open.

“you’re just perfect, principessa. you did so good” he praised as he leaned in, placing a soft kiss on the tip of your nose.

you breathed out a laugh as you tried to recover from your orgasm and the overwhelming sensations you had gone through, but you had little to no time to do that, because the door flung open and revealed the golden trio.

harry was more pissed than ever judging by the look on his face and his clenched fists, ron was just red with fury, and hermione just looked disappointed, her brown eyes seeming more dull than ever before.

“and what the fuck do you think you lot are doing?”

────── ☾ ──────

[altruisticalastor]

↳˗ˏˋAlastor x Readerˊˎ˗ ↴

☒ Summary: Alastor didn't like sharing your charm with the others. Which often led him to get needy. Craving extra special attention from his darling girl, which you happily supplied.

☒ Warnings: fem!reader, she/her pronouns, established relationship, heavy breeding kink, praise kink, soft!alastor, creampies, dirty talk, fingering, light biting, nipple play (reader recieving), begging, making out

☒ Word Count: 1,564

Your peers swore you had cast a spell upon Alastor. He was wrapped around your little finger, and you lost count of how many times demons who stayed at the hotel would come up to you and ask if you owned his soul. 

You may not have owned his soul, but you certainly owned his heart.

After the initial shock wore off, your counterparts left it be. Angel would joke often about how Alastor was "pussy whipped". But that was as far as the teasing went. Everyone else knew not to step on The Radio Demon's toes. 

It wasn't hard for your peers to catch on; to why exactly Alastor loved you so dearly. You were an absolute sweetheart, caring and compassionate in every way. You always offered a hand to any of your counterparts who required assistance, and your actions proved that you were constantly thinking of ways to make everyone feel valued. 

Alastor rather despised having to share your charm with others. Which often led to long nights of your lover being clingy and needy for you. Much like tonight. 

You were flat on your back atop the plush duvet. Alastor surrounded you with his frame, slender arms enclosing near your head. Your lover placed soft kisses across your face. Humming one of his favorite tunes in the process. "Absolutely breathtaking, my doe," Alastor whispered, nuzzling his nose into the crook of your neck. 

A chill ran down your spine at the feeling of your lover's bare body pressing against yours. His cold flesh was a nice contrast to the warmth you emitted. You let out a soft whine as Alastor's erection grazed your lower tummy, making you needier than ever for him. Which was The Radio Demon's goal all along. It was only fair to make you feel just as desperate for him as he was for you. 

"Do you know how much I cherish you, my dear?" Alastor cooed, nipping at your neck. Leaving pretty marks in his wake. His sharp teeth grazing along your pulse point caused your breath to hitch. Your lover trailed lower, still pressing his body close to yours. 

"Yes," You sighed, burying your hands into his fluffy tufts of hair as Alastor's lips wrapped around one of your nipples. His hands began to wander. One slipped between your legs, gathering your slick with his deft digits. His other hand trailed to your other breast, tweaking your neglected nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

"Good girl..." Alastor released your nipple with a loud pop before darting his tongue out to circle around your areola. A cry of his name slipped past your parted lips as Alastor's ring finger eased its way into your pussy. Your grip on his hair tightened as you held him closely to your chest, pulling a deep groan from your lover's lips. 

"Feels so good, Al," You babbled, raising your hips to meet the slow cadence of his finger plunging deep inside you. Alastor's lips shifted to your other breast, giving it the same treatment. Only this time, his sharp teeth skimmed along your sensitive nipple. A sultry moan ripped through you from the sensation, urging Alastor on to add a second finger inside your inviting heat. 

Alastor slowly rutted his hips against the plush duvet, letting out groans against your marked-up flesh. "Please, my love... need you inside," You whined desperately, pulling his face up to have him meet your gaze. A string of saliva connected Alastor's lips to your hardened nipple. His cock twitched at the look of desperation you gave him. You scored your bottom lip with your teeth, eyebrows knitted with emphasis; eyes half-lidded. 

"How could I say no when you ask so graciously, hm? I intend to give my little doe everything she needs." Alastor's smile widened as he pulled his fingers out of your dripping heat. He didn't waste a beat wrapping his slick-coated fingers around the base of his cock. A whine escaped you as your lover ran the head of his flushed length between your folds.  

"Hmm, you're so wet for me, darling. Do I really work you up that much?" Alastor quipped, allowing the tip of his cock to push past the tight ring of your pussy. You nodded your head in agreement, pushing your hips closer to his; but to no avail. Alastor's hands came to hold your waist, keeping you in place. "Use your words, my dear."

"Y-Yes! Always, Al. Just you... only this needy for you," You were already stupefied by the pleasure your lover granted you, and he barely even began. A deep chuckle escaped Alastor. The radio crackle reverberated through his chest. "I hope you are aware that the feeling is mutual, my precious little doe,"

With that, your lover pushed deeper inside you. Stretching your walls to accommodate his length. "F..Fuck, so tight. You are squeezing me so greatly, darling." Alastor hissed through gritted teeth. Your thighs came up to wrap around his waist, pulling his pelvis flush against yours. 

A gasp fled you as you felt your lover twitch from deep inside you. His full balls kissed the underside of your pussy, making your head spin. "Al, you're so big, feels s-so good..." Your hands enveloped the back of his neck, drawing his face close to yours. Alastor's lips ghosted your own as he delivered his first thrust deep inside your fluttering heat. 

"You take me so well, my darling. Your tight little hole was made for me- and me alone." Alastor whispered against your lips, finding a slow but steady rhythm. Desperate whines escaped you, and your lover drank up each and every single one. Alastor was infatuated. His crimson orbs held so much adoration for you. 

You kept your gaze fixated on him as he fucked into you sweetly. Your legs narrowed around his waist as Alastor began plunging into you with more vigor. "I'm going to breed you, my sweet little doe," Alastor huffed. One of his large palms wrapped around your hand before he dragged it down to your tummy. A sharp gasp fled you as you touched the prominent bulge your lover was causing. "Feel that, my dear? I'm in so deep. Surely you'll get pregnant when I spill my seed inside you." 

You clenched harshly around him from his crude words. The thought of Alastor knocking up caused the coil within you to unravel. "P-Please, breed me! Fill me up, make me yours for good!" You cried out, thighs trembling around your lover's waist. Your words diminished the last of Alastor's resolve. Before you knew it, his large hands hooked under the back of your thighs. Pushing them tightly to your chest.

A sharp gasp escaped you from the change of position. Alastor's cock reached even deeper from this angle, intensifying the heat in your lower tummy. "Such a good girl you are! You're so pilant, so willing... so eager for me to fuck a baby into you." His words caused your walls to flutter wildly around his length. You were on the edge of cumming all over his cock. The pleasure Alastor provided you was becoming too invigorating to bear. 

"Al, ah... I'm close! K-Kiss me, please!" You begged as his hips pistoned harshly into yours. The lewd sound of his balls slapping against the underside of your drooling pussy sent a pleasurable chill down your spine. Alastor wasted no time capturing your lips. The kiss was hot and messy, tongues intertwining with one another as the coil within you finally snapped. Your lover drank up all of your whines as your pussy pulsed and gushed around his cock. 

Alastor wasn't far behind you. His release was triggered by yours. The feeling of your hot, wet walls trying to milk him for all he was worth made him feel lightheaded. His thrusts became sloppy before his hips ultimately stilled against yours. Alastor groaned into the kiss as his cock twitched from deep within you. Your eyes rolled into the back of your skull as the first ropes of his cum spilled into your pussy. 

There was so much, and the feeling of being bred by your lover was heavenly; ironically so. Alastor slowly broke away from the kiss as he attempted to catch his breath. His cock was still nestled deep inside you as he stared down at you lovingly. You couldn't help but smile widely at your lover, allowing your palms to capture his cheeks. Rubbing Alastor's face gently with the pads of your thumbs. 

"Alastor, that was... wow," You giggled as your lover slowly released his tight grip on your thighs, allowing your legs to lie flat against the bed. "You are truly perfect, my dear. I simply cannot get enough of you!" Alastor's praise caused your heart to flutter in your chest. He was so gentle with you and you alone. Pride surged through your soul at the notion that Alastor only had a soft spot for you.

Your train of thought was cut off by the sensation of your lover's cock hardening from deep inside you once more. A smirk crossed Alastor's features as he reveled in your look of shock. "What's with the look of awe, my darling? I told you I was going to breed you. I don't intend to leave this room until I am positive you have been thoroughly bred."

tags; @danveration

[lessersole]

The Catch

Pairing: Bucky x Reader, Platonic!Yelena

Summary: Bucky comes to the rescue when being Yelena's roommate makes things dangerous for you.

Word count: 4.9k

Warnings: attempted abduction. Mentions of alcohol. Bucky on a motorbike!

------------

“So what’s the catch?”

“What catch? There’s no catch.”

You raise an eyebrow at the blonde’s suspiciously nonchalant reply. “This apartment is huge. You’re only looking for one roommate, I haven’t seen a single rat or cockroach and the rent is way, way lower than anything else in the city. There has to be a catch.”

Yelena shrugs, “No catch. It’s not huge, and I’m only looking for one roommate because there are only two bedrooms.”

“And the rent is so low because…” you prompt.

She gives you a sly smile, “I can ask you for more if you like.”

“Come on, Yelena. Roommates should be honest with each other, right?”

The Russian rolls her eyes. “The rent is low because I pay most of it. I just need someone to cover the extra. And I want to make friends.”

You narrow your eyes. “No one wants friends that badly.”

“Okaaay,” she responds, before admitting in a rush, “I may be sort of an ex-spy-slash-assassin and some people are weird about that, but it’s totally safe, I’m a good guy, no bad guys will come here or anything, I’m just a normal person living a normal life.”

Your mouth drops open, “I’m sorry, what?!”

Yelena sighs, “It’s not a big deal. And I was brainwashed to do it, but that’s all gone now, it was chemicals, they’re neutralised, no problem.”

You stare at her in astonishment, blinking rapidly. “And - what do you do now?”

She mumbles something inaudible.

“Uhh…?” you hesitate.

“I sort of - work for the government,” Yelena admits.

“You know that sounds like you’re a spy, right?”

She frowns at you, “I’m not a spy.”

“But you couldn’t tell me if you were, right?”

She flings her arms up in frustration, “I don’t know the spy rules! I’m not a spy.”

“Any more,” you point out.

“Any more,” she confirms, “So do you want the room or not?”

You look around at by far the nicest apartment you’ve seen since in your weeks of searching. The thought of living somewhere that would easily pass a health code inspection, without dozens of roommates to fight over the bathroom with, and that wouldn’t mean a multi-hour commute to work is tempting enough to overlook almost anything.

Glancing at Yelena as you weigh up your options, you notice a shimmer of something beneath her defensive exterior. Maybe she really is lonely.

“You promise you won’t be, uh, bringing your work home with you?” You ask.

She brightens, nodding, “Yes, definitely not. All fun here.”

Sucking your teeth, and hoping you won’t regret this, you take a big breath before answering, “Okay, I’m in. I’ll take the room.”

Yelena squeals in delight and wraps you in an excited hug, “I’ll be the best roommate ever, you’ll see.”

—

Six months later and Yelena has more than lived up to her promise. Your shared apartment has become a serene respite from the busy chaos of work and city life, and she’s clearly delighted to have a new friend. Your own friends have warmly welcomed her into the group, and she’s often with you for nights out bar-hopping, or happily joins you in hosting movie nights for everyone.

Yelena’s also frequently away for days or weeks at a time on work trips that you’ve learnt not to ask about, and you enjoy having the time and space to yourself. Right now, she’s been away for four days, and you’re not expecting her back until early next week, so you decide to reward yourself for making it through to another Friday with take-out and wine. Pouring yourself a glass after ordering a pizza, you’re just about to take the first sip when there’s a knock at the door. Confused - the food couldn’t possibly have come that fast - you set down your drink and move to squint through the peephole.

Standing outside your front door is possibly the most attractive man you’ve ever seen. A mess of dark hair hangs above shadowed eyes that give way to high cheekbones, a perfectly straight nose, soft cupid’s bow lips and a razor-sharp jawline covered in thick stubble. His broad shoulders and clearly muscular arms are straining the leather of his jacket, and you’re momentarily hypnotised by the way the shirt underneath clings to his chest.

Taking a breath and letting your brain remind your body that this Adonis is a complete stranger, you slip the chain onto the door before opening it enough to peer through at him.

“Hi,” you say, wondering if he’s got the wrong door, and if so, what you can do to make it the right one.

His eyes flicker over what he can see of you before they meet yours, the blue shock of his searching gaze almost making you miss his low voice speaking your name like a question. You blink in confusion, “Do I know you? I think I’d remember if we’d met.”

“You don’t know me,” he confirms, trying to look past you into the apartment. “Are you alone?”

A finger of suspicion chills the playful heat inside you. “That’s a pretty creepy question to open with,” you tell him with a nervous laugh, hoping there’s an explanation that ends with him being completely non-threatening and asking you on a date.

His eyes meet yours again. “I work with Yelena. Someone got hold of her address, found out she lives with someone and is highly likely to be sending a team over to abduct you. You need to come with me. Now.”

“Ah - what?” You’re still more suspicious than panicked, “If that’s even true, how do I know you’re not the guy coming to abduct me?”

Can you blame the wine you almost drunk for the thought that you wouldn’t mind being abducted by this guy?

“Because if I was abducting you,” he growls, “this door would be in pieces and you would already be tied up in my car.”

You swallow, hard.

The man takes a deep breath as he glances around the corridor, trying to be patient. “Look, I’m Bucky. Yelena must have mentioned me?”

You shake your head, “No. She doesn’t really talk about work.”

Bucky grumbles something under his breath, “We might not have much time. Can you at least grab what you’ll need for an overnight while you decide if you’re going to trust me?”

If you’d met this guy in a bar you’d be more than happy to spend the night with him, but under these circumstances, you’re still suspicious. You narrow your eyes. “Fine.”

You actually have a go-bag prepared already - you weren’t going to be too cavalier about living with an ex-assassin/current probable spy - but as you shut the door on Bucky, you decide now’s a good time to call Yelena.

Ignoring his voice through the door saying that you could at least leave it open, you tug your bag out of the hall closet while you find her number. Yelena’s asked you to avoid calling her when she’s at work, but you can’t think of any other way to verify what Bucky’s telling you.

As it rings, you sling the bag over your shoulder and let your eyes drift to the floor of your open bedroom, where the glow of the city through the large window falls on the floor. Frowning, you notice a shadow blocking the lower corner and let out an exasperated sigh. Your neighbour seems to think the fire escape outside your apartment is a great place for him to store his overflowing junk, but Yelena seemed to have scared him off doing it for a while. As you're making a mental note to speak to him about it, the shadow moves. You freeze. Pigeons maybe? On top of the junk? You slowly step backwards, raking your mind to remember if you’d seen anything there earlier.

Just as the phone rings out, switching to Yelena’s generic voicemail message, there’s the unmistakable smash of breaking glass, followed by alarmingly fast, heavy footsteps. You spin around, but before you can even take a step, whoever’s come through the window grabs you from behind. You open your mouth, sucking in air to scream at the top of your lungs, but the attacker clamps a hand over your mouth and nose. You’re instantly choked as you try to breathe around a sweet-smelling piece of fabric, and as you struggle, you feel a sharp scratch on the side of your neck. Your thoughts go fuzzy, and even as you try to squirm out of the tight grasp, your body slackens. The violent cracking and splintering sounds coming from your doorway echo into the background, and darkness consumes you.

—

You surface slowly back to consciousness. There’s a roaring in your ears, and your body is heavy, unable to move, or even to open your eyes. You’re aware of a constant cold wind at your back and running through your fingers, hands buffeted by the air. Your face is pressed into something warm and firm, and something hard as metal is wrapped around you, holding you in place.

You remember being at your apartment. The window smashing, the footsteps, being grabbed - you force your body to move, eyes flying open, limbs flailing haphazardly and snapping your head up, only to bash into something hard.

“Shit!” Bucky’s expletive is audible over the engine noise as your sudden movement throws him off balance, making the bike he’s controlling with one hand swerve on the road. You realise all at once that the roaring sound was the motorbike, currently speeding down a dark highway. You’re facing backwards, basically in Bucky’s lap, both your legs thrown over his, his left arm holding you close to him.

The shock makes you cry out, but all that emerges through your still waking mouth is an addled groan, although your arms instinctively reach up to cling onto Bucky’s solid form.

His gravelly voice is close in your ear, “Hang on.”

The bike slows to a stop at the side of the road, and Bucky leans back to assess you.

“You okay?” He asks. The road is too shadowed for you to make out whether his frown is of concern or irritation.

“I don’t know,” you answer honestly, vocal chords just about working as you scramble to get off him. Your legs are still half asleep, and Bucky’s strong hand on your side is the only thing that stops you falling to the ground. He follows you off the bike much more gracefully, and helps you stand, one hand still on your waist, the other on your hip.

Your limbs are still shaky, and you feel like you have the beginnings of a hangover. “What happened?” You ask.

Bucky lets go of you. “The people who came to abduct you turned up. They drugged you, but I heard them breaking in and managed to stop them taking you. Now I’m bringing you to a safe house.”

“Oh,” you don’t know what to say to this, other than, “thank you.”

Bucky shrugs, “Don’t worry about it. There’s another hour before we get there, so we should get going.”

You nod. Despite still feeling too weak and dizzy to competently ride a bike even as a passenger, you’d rather recover inside in the warm than out by the side of the road.

Bucky’s eyes lingers on you, assessing, then he pulls out a bottle of water stored under the seat and wordlessly hands it over. You take it with another thanks and gratefully drink half in one go, suddenly thirsty. He simply nods when you hand it back, then straddles the bike.

After groggily admiring the flex of his leg muscles as he does so, you move to climb on behind him.

“No,” he says gently, stopping you and indicating that you should sit in front of him. “You might not be alert enough to keep hold of me, and I don’t want you falling off.”

You hesitate. “Can I at least face forward this time?”

A quick teasing grin tugs at the corner of Bucky’s mouth as he gestures to the space he’s left for you between his legs, “Lady’s choice.”

Rolling your eyes to hide the warmth blooming in you despite the strangeness of the situation, you climb in front of him as elegantly as possible. Although you try to keep some space between you, you can feel his warmth at your back as he leans forward, arms caging you as he grasps the handlebars.

His beard grazes your ear, his voice soothing it, “Just grab onto me if you need to,” he tells you.

You get no other warning before the bike takes off, his thick thighs pressing into yours as he raises his legs to the footrests.

—

An hour later, you’re struggling to keep your eyes open as the bike finally slows to a stop beside a wood cabin. The dense trees surrounding it would cast it in darkness even if it wasn’t the middle of the night, and the winding dirt track you’ve been following for the last 20 minutes makes it even more thoroughly hidden.

The stress of the day, lingering effects of the drug and gentle turns of the bike have lulled you into a half sleep, and you’d given up on staying alert long ago, leaning comfortably into Bucky’s solid chest, his strong arms keeping you in place. As you joltingly step off the bike, the absence of his warmth makes the chill breeze feel even colder.

His hand brushes your lower back as he passes you to the entrance of the safe house. Beside the clatter of him unlocking the door and the ticking of his motorbike cooling down, there’s no sound other than the breeze in the trees. You must be miles from anywhere.

Bucky disappears into the darkness of the cabin, and you follow, lingering at the door. The place is small - you’re standing in a living room-kitchen space that spans the width of the building, the door opposite revealing a shaded corridor that Bucky heads into, leading to what can’t be much more than a small bathroom and bedroom. After checking each room - which doesn’t take long - Bucky returns to the main space.

“It’s clear,” he tells you matter-of-factly, “Hasn’t been used in a while by the look of things, and I wouldn’t trust the bed in there, it’s more woodworm than wood.”

You nod and mumble a small, “Okay.” Now that you’re here, everything feels real and scary again. You were attacked, and drugged, and are now hiding out in a creaky cabin in the middle of nowhere, no one but Bucky and, you suppose, Yelena, knowing where you are. You don’t even have your phone with you.

While you’re thinking this, Bucky turns back into the corridor, leaving you in the main room again. Feeling even more awkward, you head to the kitchen area, trying to figure out how to make the best of things. You pull open wonkily attached cupboard doors, finding a few cans of soup and placing the least rusty ones on the counter top - you never did get that pizza. You’re contemplating the wisdom of even checking the use by dates when Bucky passes, his arms full of blankets and pillows which he drops on the couch.

“Bedding’s fine,” he gestures to it, not even looking at you before turning to kneel in front of the fireplace. Sooner than you expect, he stands again, a fire crackling into life in the grate.

“I’d keep the fire burning,” he tells you as he moves to the front door, “It’s the only heat in this place, and you don’t need to worry about the smoke, we weren’t followed and there’s no one else around for miles.”

Your heart sinks. You hadn’t even realised you’d hoped he’d stay until it’s clear he’s about to leave, but the thought of being left alone, here, after everything - it’s daunting.

“Oh. Sure, yeah.” You reply, before holding up a couple of the soup cans, “You don’t want to stay to eat something? It’s a long way back to the city, right?”

Bucky’s stare is carefully neutral as he takes in your questionable finds. He opens his mouth, but as his gaze slides to your face, he pauses. “Sure,” he says uncertainly, “Looks delicious.”

“You must be hungry then,” you joke, trying to hide your relief as you hunt for a can opener.

—

A little while later, the cabin’s feeling a bit more friendly. The smell of the surprisingly decent soup and warmth of the fire have spread through the space, and with your and Bucky’s bowls washed and left to dry by the sink, the place looks almost homey. Even so, apprehension pulses through you when you see him preparing to leave; his warm, steady presence is more of a comfort to you than it should be.

“You shouldn’t need to be here more than one night.” Bucky reassures you. “Two at most. Yelena will come get you when she’s back in the country.”

“Two nights?” Your voice cracks and you clear your throat, determined to come off as confident and unafraid in front of him, “I mean, that’s fine, I guess. I’m sure I can keep myself entertained.”

You shoot him a quick smile. But he can’t ignore the tension in your body language, your arms wrapped tightly around yourself despite the warmth. He’d intended to leave. The second he set foot in the cold, musty cabin it had reminded him of places he’d hidden out in on missions as the Winter Soldier. He’d meant to drop you off and leave as soon as he’d checked it was safe.

Then you’d turned to him with an old tin of soup and a shaky smile, and something tugged at him to stay. Probably he just felt sorry for you. And that urge to look after you, make you comfortable, that was just him wanting to do what was asked of him - nothing to do with the attraction he’d felt to the bold, suspicious person who’d opened the door to him earlier this evening. And if this basic cabin out in the forest was starting to feel more like home than his apartment back in Brooklyn, it was just because he still hadn’t decorated or got used to the modern city - not because sharing dinner with you had warmed him more than any fire ever could.

Jacket and boots on, Bucky hesitates. “Are you alright?”

You flash him another small smile that comes out halfway between the ease you’d intended and a grimace. “I’m fine,” your voice comes out squeaky and you try again. “I’m fine.” You say, a bit more confidently.

Bucky’s eyes don’t move from you, but his raised eyebrow suggests he doesn’t believe you.

Sighing, you admit more quietly, “I think I’m maybe in shock. All this is…a lot. I’ll be alright in a bit.”

Bucky nods and stomps out the door without another word.

You blink rapidly, jarred by his sudden departure, but instead of hearing the roar of his bike starting up, there’s a slam as he returns and shuts the door behind him.

“Here,” he holds out a candy bar to you.

You simply stare at him, dumbfounded.

“Sugar helps with shock,” he explains with a shrug. “And it counts as dessert. Since you made dinner.”

You can’t help the laugh that spills out as you thank him. “I didn’t expect this from you.” You add as you take the candy, looking up in time to see his throat bob as he swallows.

Sinking into the couch as you unwrap the chocolate, you hope Bucky will join you, and are startled when instead he squats down in front of you and places a hand either side of your legs, gripping the couch with both hands and tugging the whole thing – heavy old furniture and you – so you slide across the floor, closer to the fire. His smug grin is the only sign he’s noticed your mouth falling open in astonishment, as he drops down next to you. Right next you; his arm and leg brushing against yours.

“It’s better to stay warm,” is all he says by way of explanation, watching the dancing flames in front of you both.

“Thank you,” you repeat. After a moment you lean into him slightly, curious to see how he’ll react. As if by instinct, he lifts his arm to wrap it around you, pulling you firmly into his side.

You smile to yourself, and snap off a square of chocolate to pass to him. Your eyes meet as he takes it from you, and you let your gaze linger on his face, so close to yours. Bucky doesn’t turn away - watching you with an intensity that mirrors your own. A loud crackle from the fire is the only thing to snap your attention away, and you sit together in comfortable silence, your face warm as you let the candy melt in your mouth.

“Better?” Bucky asks.

“Much,” you answer. His solid warmth has calmed you, and you’re pretty sure it’s his proximity, rather than the fire’s, that’s making your blood pump hot through you. Your suspicion is confirmed when he removes his arm from around you and stands up, taking the candy wrapper from you and leaving a cold gust of absence.

“Lie down,” he instructs softly, gesturing to the blankets and pillows around you on the couch, “It’s late. You should get some sleep.”

He moves to the kitchen before you can reply, so you do as you’re told and lie down, burrowing into the blankets in the hopes of capturing his lingering warmth. You desperately want to ask him to stay, but you’re not sure how.

Eyes closed, you’re unaware of Bucky’s silent return. He watches you, feeling the tension slip from his shoulders at the soft sounds of your breath and the fire. He wants to stay - to comfort you, he tells himself, and make sure you’re safe. Nothing else, of course. But do you want that?

“Are you still cold?” he asks, his voice low.

You open your eyes to the sight of him looking down at you from the foot of the couch, his creased brow casting his eyes into shadow.

“I could be warmer,” you tell him.

The next sound you hear is the soft thud of Bucky’s boots hitting the floor as he toes them off, simultaneously shrugging out of his jacket. Leaning over you, his knee tucks into the space behind yours.

“Budge up,” he mutters, a gentle teasing edge dancing through his voice.

Slightly stunned - and delighted - you shuffle forward to the edge of the couch, letting him slot in behind you against the back cushions. Lifting the blankets, he presses against you, his right arm snaking around your body, holding you to him.

Realising you’ve been holding your breath as his body adjusts to yours, you let out a contented sigh. Sandwiched between the flickering heat of the fire and the warmth and security of Bucky’s firm body, you feel yourself finally relax. As the last remnants of tension and shock are eased out of you, you drift off to sleep, comfortable and safe in Bucky’s arms.

He’s slower to fall asleep. Bucky wants to hold still so you won’t wake, but your closeness is making him more aware of every part of his body.

He looks down at you fondly as you twist over mid-dream, grabbing a fistful of his shirt and pressing your face to his chest, inhaling deeply as you continue your steady sleep. Taking a long breath, Bucky tries to ignore it as the spark of a feeling he hasn’t felt for a very, very long time catches in his chest, the glowing ember of it warming him deeply as he relaxes into sleep.

—

The first fingers of dawn creeping through the flimsy curtains wakes Bucky the next morning. There’s a smile on his face and a gentle glow in his chest – he’s slept soundly through the night, and has the unfamiliar feeling of having woken from a good dream. Keeping his eyes closed to try and recapture the thoughts that were just now floating through his sleeping mind, he’s suddenly brought back to reality by movement in his arms – you, shifting as you wake up.

You awake with the same warm glow as Bucky, breathing deeply as consciousness trickles in, and inhaling a delicious scent – clean, woodsy and warmly spiced, something that smells both comforting and exciting. There’s soft fabric under your hand and you sigh contentedly as you nuzzle closer. It’s only when Bucky politely clears his throat, the sound reverberating through the chest you now realise you’re lying on, that the realisation of where you are comes back to you.

Jerking back as far as you can – which isn’t much, given the size of the couch and that Bucky’s arms are still encircling you – your eyes fly open and you freeze as you meet the supersoldier’s amused gaze.

“Morning,” he greets you with just a hint of a smirk, his gravelly voice making your stomach somersault.

“Morning,” you squeak back, inwardly cursing yourself for not being anything like as cool as he is. Knowing your normal morning state, your hair is probably a bird’s nest and you don’t want to think about the likelihood of there being drool on your face - or his chest.

But Bucky simply smiles back at you, his eyes dancing over your face. Half-stunned, you gaze back at him - his strong nose, his smooth cupid’s bow lips, his ice blue eyes - and a hot longing spreads through you. You know you’re currently in a strange cabin in the middle of nowhere, hiding out from mysterious enemies who want to hurt you - but right now that all feels very far away; much less important than the warm, muscular body pressed against yours.

A darkness in Bucky’s gaze makes you shiver in delight as you realise his thoughts are mirroring your own.

“Did you sleep well?” he asks, voice gruff but with the ghost of a smile, his arms still wrapped tight around you.

You raise an eyebrow, leaning back into him and angling your face up to his, “Very,” You answer softly, “You?”

“Very,” Bucky echoes, staring deep into your eyes for a moment before pulling you close, erasing the last space between you. His soft lips brush against yours, sending tingles racing through your body, and you press into him eagerly. His response is immediate, his mouth firm and giving, and you fist his shirt in your hands as you move closer, opening your mouth to his, and-

A loud, shrill alarm pierces the air and you yelp, both of you startled apart. You nearly fall off the couch at the noise, and Bucky bolts upright.

“It’s the proximity alarm,” he explains, jumping up and heading for his jacket where it’s hanging on the back of a chair. After pulling his phone from the pocket, his shoulders loosen as he visibly relaxes. “It’s friendly,” he says, turning back to where you’re half-lying, still tangled in blankets.

“Good,” you manage to respond, unconvincingly. You’re obviously glad there’s no threat, but the timing of this arrival could have been better.

A lopsided smile spreads across Bucky’s face, “You don’t sound too happy about that,” he teases, voice still rough.

You fail to hide a smile, wrinkling your nose, “I’m just…no good with guests before I’ve had coffee.”

His smile widening into a grin, Bucky nods. “I’ll put some on.”

You extricate yourself from the bedding as he heads to the kitchen area, and try pointlessly to brush the wrinkles from your clothes, hoping whoever’s coming to meet you can’t tell that your heart is still pounding, heat pulsing through you from the kiss. It might have been short, and unpleasantly interrupted, but it was the best kiss you’ve had in a very long time.

As you neatly fold the blankets, still warm from your and Bucky’s combined body heat, his clattering in the kitchen is drowned out by the sound of an engine outside, before the front door bursts open and Yelena strides into the cabin.

Before you can even open your mouth to greet her, she runs to you and wraps you in a fierce hug, “I’m so sorry!” She says into your shoulder before pulling back to look you over, checking for injuries. “I never thought you would get hurt because of me, you’re my best friend and I love you and I nearly got you kidnapped!”

“It’s okay,” you reassure her, returning the hug, “I’m fine, Bucky looked after me.”

Yelena glances over at Bucky who nods at you both before returning his attention to the coffee. Yelena slowly turns her head to look back at you, her eyes narrowing and a cat-like smile spreading across her face, “He looked after you, huh?” She drawls.

“Shut up,” you mutter, feeling your face warm, “not like that. Well, not - no, not like that.”

“Okay,” she answers with a grin, “What’s that saying about silver livings again?”

“Yelena,” you warn her, aware Bucky can hear you both.

She laughs again before the smile slides from her face. “I am really sorry though,”

“It’s not your fault,” you reassure her.

“But I put you in danger,” she insists with a pout, “and I told you I wouldn’t.”

“Coffee’s ready,” Bucky calls from the kitchen.

“Look, we can talk about it later,” you tell Yelena, moving to where Bucky’s pouring you a mug.

“Fine,” Yelena grumbles good-naturedly as she follows you, “But can we talk about whatever it is you did to get Barnes to make you coffee?”

You roll your eyes as she laughingly bumps your shoulder, neither of you noticing the openly affectionate look on Bucky’s face that he quickly moves to hide.

------------

Part two

Tags: @yesshewrites1

[yuvany]

"MS.UGLY DUCKLING" ft SIM JAKE

SYNOPSIS : growing up "ugly" was not for the weak. Being absolutely ignored both in and outside of school was not for the weak. No one is ever ugly forever though. Changing schools and meeting new people, but most importantly meeting him might have been the best choice you've ever made in a very, very long time.

CONTENT WARNINGS : angst (with a happy ending) + bullying + insecurities + strangers to friends + friends to lovers + written in second perspective + self deprication + fluff + long + little rushed + partially proofread

ACTORS : ENHYPEN JAKE x FEMALE READER

WORD COUNT : ~ 4k

CHECK BOX !!

i. "WHY WON'T THEY EVER PLAY WITH ME," you asked your mother after returning home from a long and harsh first day of school. Your hair looked a mess, and dirt was scattered across your clothes, yet your voice sounded like childish innocence and pure wonder. Maybe it was too much for such a young child to realise that her newly made friends maybe weren't actually her friends?

(Read more under the cut)

"I'm sure they didn't mean to?" She replied, her voice sounding soft and vulnurable, feeling like she was responsible for the sorrows and grief that her child had been put through, since she was the one who had bought you into this world. Instead of confronting the problem, she told her child that the world wasn't as evil as it seemed, that thinking on the bright side, or the possibilities, were the correct way to live life.

Eight-year-old girl walked up the stairs with heavy weights glued beneath her feet after dinner was finished. You threw yourself onto your bed that was neatly made in the morning before you went to school happily, just to come home opposite of the way you left. The softness of the pillow and blanket laying on your bed was enough to comfort you as you buried your face deep into it and wrapping the blanket around you tightly. You wished for friends, and you wished to be happy, but most of all, you wanted to be like everybody else.

ii. ONE MORE DAY at school, the daily mistreatment never seeming to come to a halt. You walked through the corridors anxiously holding onto the straps of your backback tightly with your pair of eyes wandering all over the place in case of danger. This was certainly not nessecary for a child your age, but when nobody chooses to help, you've got to start taking care of yourself.

Maybe it was your nerves that made it feel as if everyone's eyes were on you, but their mouths would open to release a fit of laughter that they had held in until specifically you walked past them. You crossed your arms, feeling extra aware of yourself now, guessing that they were laughing and giggling at you, which you didn't appreciate, but you were also too insecure and scared to speak up against them.

You reached your locker, looking forward to being able to collect your throught, away from everyone else, the locker shielding you away from their piercing gazes and judgemental stares and whispers. As you look up from your shoes, you see piles of gum stuck onto your locker, the gum being pressed onto the metal aggressively by the people you wished you didn't see. It was them; the popular girls of the school, and few of many people who seemed to despise you. They saw you standing there, shooting you an all too familiar look before walking away with their hips swaying from side to side dramatically.

You approched your locker to finally see what they were doing up close, "UGLY!" it read. You felt embarrased imagining all the people who passed by and saw this. Did they laugh? Did they feel bad for you? What did they think? You wanted to run away and hide in a deep hole you'd dig up with all the stored up shame inside of you.

iii. "MOM, DO YOU THINK I'M PRETTY?" You asked your mother once more, years after the first, but soon to the recent encounter. "I think you're very pretty." She says, but your gut tells you another story. "Really?" You ask, awaiting her response that takes a long while before she hums lowly. That just confirms it, she wasn't being honest. "Thanks," you say, with no emotion in your tone. She looks away and eats her dinner quietly.

You quickly finish yours, and wash it in the faucet, the soap bubbling up and covering your fingers as you scrub and rub the plate, utensils and glass that you used. After finishing that up, you return to your room, locking it behind you. You hid under the covers for a while until it got too suffocating and warm, leaving you itchy and irriatted before sliding out and standing in front of the mirror. You inspected every inch and detail of your face, feeling not so content with some parts. You sighed at your reflection that looked back at you with tired, red eyes. At just fourteen years old, you began caring about how you looked, and how others precieved you, so you took matters into your own hands. That night, you stayed up all night searching for 'how to be prettier' and scrolled endlessly through social media.

The next day, you had decided to get a new hair cut to maybe fix the way you looked, you knew excatly what you wanted, and how to cut it. Before anyone else woke up, even before the first birds chirped their morning tune, you made your way to the bathroom and grabbed a pair of scissors in your grasp. You carefully cut strand for strand, the same way you remebered how the video showed. "It doesn't look too bad." You think to yourself, and then you hear footsteps outside the door. Your eyes quickly scanned the hair that layed on the tiled floor and faucet, wondering what to do with it.

Too late. The door slowly swung open and in came your mom. She was silent upon seeing the scene, the horror only showing in her eyes. "What happened here?" She asked like a sharp whisper. "I just cut my hair..." You reply equally quiet. You see her shake her head in disappointment, so you turn your head down, looking at all the hair that had been flying everywhere while you had fun cutting your hair, and suddenly you weren't as proud of your hair cut like you were before. "Go get the broom, y/n." You obeyed your mother's order and hurried out of the bathroom feeling tears of embarrassment reaching your eyes.

iv. YOU STARTED WEARING MAKE UP to cover up, but to everyone else, you told them that you wore make up becase you thought it looked pretty. Still, they'd give weird glances toward each others, which you knew was their way of judging you.

Each morning, you woke up early to sit in front of your mirror examining your appearance like you always did. Hoping and praying to somehow change over night, you hated how your features looked together. You opened the drawer of your vanity and picked up sponges and brushes, leaving them aside for later use while you chose the different essintials. You had prepared the whole summer break to look pretty. Every day, you followed a new tutorial, improving as you continued. You did all this to look presentable at school.

You thinly spread the foundation across your face, dabbing the liquid evenly all over as you moved onto the next step. You sat there for a long time, perfecting each detail and mole, brushing your brows and coating your eyelashes with mascara, and lastly smacking your lips together after applying lipstick.

You stood in front of your larger mirror that you had ignored and hidden away since you never wanted to see yourself ever, but now you felt prepared. In your eyes you looked prettier. You wore your hair differently, you had earrings and necklaces, the school uniform from last year looking a lot better than you remembered. The confidence boost put a smile on your face as you made your way downstairs and made yourself breakfast.

In the kitchen, your mum was sipping her coffee calmly, but as she saw you walk in, her eyes widened in shock, but she didn't say anything. "Good morning!" You greeted happily, and she waved her hand slowly, still trying to process what was happening. "You look different." She comments, and you are content with that reply, and answer, "Thank you, mum!" You proceed to eat your breakfast and then made your way to school.

At shcool, you felt everyone's eyes hooked on your face. The corridors got quiet when you walked by, and you heard murmurs and whispers about you, "Is that really y/n?" "No way..." "What happened." You didn't know what context to put it in and just walked with hurry in your steps, wanting to get to your class and focus on your studies.

Lunch also happened to be no different compared to before your make over, the group of three girls made their way to your table, cackling amongst themselves, planning what to do today. You, who already finshed your lunch stood up to walk away, not wanting to have an encounter with them, until one of them, the blonde barbie, knocked into you with her lunch tray, spilling her food and drink all over you. "oops!" he chuckled cheerily, enjoying the laughs and fingers pointed at you from around her in the cafeteria. You angrily stood up and rushed over to the bathroom, feeling embarrassed once again.

v. "I WANT TO CHANGE SCHOOLS." You say to your mother after a long while of thinking, fearing that you might make the wrong decision, but what could possibly go worse than how it already is? Your mother is sneering at you from the side as she puts down the bags of groceries by the sink. She hums, and you wait for her reply, feeling your heart beat through your ribs, beating so hard that you start belive it'd jump out of your body any second. To be fair, you'd rather for that to happen than to be rejected of this preposition. "Are you sure?" She asks with uncertainty in her voice after silence, and you nod your head, "Of course." "Think about it for a little more, and then we can ask your father when he returns home." She says and walks away. How much longer could you ponder it when you're already certain.

You help her organise the groceries, washing them in the sink to sterilise it of bacteria before placing it in either the fridge or freezer and taking your sweet time, not knowing what else to do other than lay in your bed or be on your phone scrolling through social media.

So, that's exactly what you did for the past hour or so after your chores.

Of course it was boring, but you had nothing else to do. Homework was done, your room was clean and you could only wait for dinner with your father. You heard the sound of the stove from your room, and rushed down to help prepare with your mother. You plated the dinner table, helped your mum with the dishes and washed them afterwards, now you waited in your seat for your father to arrive home from work.

You hear the door slide open, the sound of keys jiggling from the entrance. You sit straight in your seat, resembling a meerkat on its legs as you inspect the person who enters the kitchen. Your father walks in with his coat still slung over his shoulders, his briefcase slamming onto the kitchen counter while he sighs. "Hello, dad!" You greet him cheerfully, and he simply nods his head in your direction. Your mum rose from her seat to help him with his jacket and hat, but he just shrugs her off, and you notice both of their irritated moods.

Dinner was quiet - the sound of utenstils hitting each other and then being left on the plates filled the house. "y/n wanted to ask something." Your mum blurts out, wanting something to happen, being too awkward in this stale atmosphere. You see him look at you from the corner of your eye and he clears his thoat. "Really? What is it?" He asks, and you manage to utter the same statement from before. It takes a moment before you get a reply again, but he says, "I'll think about it." You pleaded with both your parents to let you change schools until they finally caved in with an extended sigh.

vi. YOU WALKED INTO THE FULL CLASSROOM feeling everyone's eyes glued on you, the feeling being vagualy familiar yet different. Some leaned over to their friend, whispering something, but as you saw them and they made eye contact with you, you wanted to shove yourself inside a locker. "Everyone, this new student ..." You zoned out her speaking until she placed her palm on your shoulder and asked you to intruduse yourself to everyone. "Hello, I am y/n l/n, and I really hope we can all be friendly," You said, and then walked over to the empty seat that the teacher pointed at.

As you take a seat, you take extra notice of your bench mate. Oh, how beautiful she was, her hair looked neat, her skin looked perfect and her eyes... You finally took a seat and did what everyone else did - copying what the teacher wrote. After class, you observed your schedule, confused by where to go. This school was big, and you were a new student who just joined, there was no way you could ask anyone else for help except the teachers, but the one in you room had already left. The girl from beside you tapped you on the shoulder and you turned your head curiously.

"Do you need any help?" She asked, and you nodded. "Help would be appreciated, thanks."

You spent the day with her, laughing and talking like never before. It was comforting to have someone like her beside you. At the end of school, she walked you outside of school and there you saw a group of other people gathered, and they waved in your direction. You turned to see your newly made friend, Yoona, waving back. Her pace quickened as she rushed over to the group, pulling you along by the sleeve of your uniform when she noticed you standing still.

It was a fairly small gang, but they still stared at you as you arrived. They all greeted each other, hugging and chatting till Yoona introduced you to the rest. Her voice sounding so smooth.

As she spoke, you noticed this guy. His hair was long and swept in waves, his eyes soft and brown filled with warmth and kidness. You learnt that his name was Jake from your friend's introduction. "Y/n, wanna come to karaoke with us?" She asked, and you shook your head. "Sorry Yoona, but I gotta head home now" you say, not wanting to interrupt the harmony established amongst the people. She nodded understandingly and let you go, waving her farewell.

On your way home you realised you had made a new friend. A real one at that, but thoughts of insecurities snaked its way into your mind. What if she was just being kind? To say that this could possibly be one of many occurrence was high, and the possibility that you'd fit in was low.

vii. YOU FOUND YOURSELF IN THE PARK with them. You've come to the realisation that a new start was exactly what you needed. Your feet swung you back and forth on the swing, hearing the laughter of everyone around you and feeling the warmth in your heart expand. You had gotten close to everyone, but Jake seemed to have a special place in your heart for some reason.

"Anyone wanna go to the arcade?" Someone called out, and everyone said yes, including you who never went along with them. On the way there, you walked along side Jake, chatting with him and joking. "So what made you change schools so suddenly." He questioned, and you shook your head with an awkward chuckle, "Nothing, I just wanted to." Jake had this friendly smirk on his face as he nudged his shoulder against yours, "you can't be serious. You probably had a lot of friends there." You had your eyes focused on the road as you tried to comply a decent reply. "I mean-" as you were about to answer, everyone had already arrived at the arcade. You found this to be the perfect escape.

Everyone rushed inside, being bombarded with games and bright lights. Almost immediately, you spotted the claw machines. You eyed it like it was candy. There were many plushies, but you really really wanted the bunny one. Jake who was close by saw the way your eyes lit up and approached you with his hands in his pocket. "If you beat me in any game, I'll get you that plushie." He says, and you turn to look up at, his lips being extremely close to your face. "Are you sure you wanna bet?" You asked and he nodded his head, "Go ahead, choose a game." You pointed at an air hockey board and Jake ushered you over there with his palm resting on your shoulder.

You played a couple of games, and you were determined to win. Jake, not so much. His eyes roamed everywhere except for the hockey puck, his eyes landed on your concentrated face a handful of times, observing your reaction to each goal. You easily won and rushed over to his side, cheering. Your smiles were contagious, and Jake laughed, exposing his pearly teeth. "You wanted that white bunny, right?" He asked, and you nodded. "You could get whichever one, really." He made his way to the machine, you standing beside him. Jake kissed his coin before inerting it into the machine. It took him many tries before he sighed and collected his calm once more. "You don't really need to continue, Jake." You tell him, but she shakes his head and stretches his arms and back. "I'll get it this time. I might need more luck though." You see him point at his cheek with a smug smile. "That's silly." You reply sarcastically and he pleads with you giving you the puppy eyes before caving in. You stand on your toes and quickly peck him on the cheek shyly. Your heart was pounding and you could feel your cheeks turn rosy at the act.

He winks at you once before turning to the machine with one last try. His focus is evident in his fierceful gaze and you also hope for him to win this time, mostly becuase you start to feel bad for all the coins he's lost.

While being consumed by your own thoughts, Jake celebrated his win. He turned around to hand you the bunny, but saw you spacing out. He snapped his fingers in you face and you shook you back into reality. You finally processed the fact that he had won after staring at the plush in his arms. Jake gently hands it to you and you take it with a smile. "Woah! Thank you so much!" You thank him over all the other people's conversations around you two.

The rest of the evening was spent with silent glances that held adoration between the two of you. and eventually, it was time to go home. You all gathered outside the arcade to wave each other off before going their separate ways.

You notice that Jake was taking the same way as you and you stopped in your tracks to let him catch up to you. "Do you also take this way?" You asked him. "Kind of, I actually wanted to walk you home." He rubbed the back of his neck before you two began walking again. "You could've told me before, you almost looked like a creep." Jake chuckled at your remark and said, "I would've, but I guess I got shy." with his thick accent seeping through.

The sound of crickets and owls hooting filled in the silence during the short walk to your front door step. "Thanks for walking me home, Jake." You say as you search for your keys in your purse. He was silent for a while as you unlocked your door. "Y/n, I have something to ask you." You turned to him curiously and arched an eyebrow. He was obviously nervous as you saw him fidgeting with his own fingers and clearing his throat over and over again to muster up the courage to ask,

viii. "WILL YOU GO TO PROM WITH ME, Y/N?" It had totally slipped your mind that prom was soon. You stood there wide eyed at the question. "You're not joking with me right." You wonder if he's pranking you, but he shakes his head. "Why would I joke with a pretty girl like you." His tone sounds genuine, but you still can't shake this feeling of uncertainty. "There's many other people you could've asked, but instead you chose me." The identical feeling of hopelessness returned after finally being chased away. "Becuase I only want you. Y/n, please." It takes a while for you to open your mouth an reply, but you feel the cold sweat coat your hairline and seeing Jake's soft expression was not helping you to calm down.

"I need to think about it, sorry."

You take notice of how Jake's expression turns dark when you shut the door and lock it behind you. You rush up the stairs and sprint into your room, ignoring your mother's calls. The plushy you had gotten from Jake was thrown onto your bed as you hurry to look out the window, observing him walk away from you. To your surprise, you see him look back at your house. Hurriedly, you pull out a diary that you had hidden under your mattress and write about everything, it isn't until after you're done taking notes that you feel bad for Jake. How must he feel?

You take a look at the plush he gifted you, and groan at the dilemma.

ix. THE NEXT DAY at school you searched for Jake everywhere, but you never saw him. Your mood visibly worsened as the day had come to an end without seeing him once. Yoona took notice of this and decided to question you. "Is everything okay?" She asked you and you nodded your head with a hum. "Yoona, have you seen Jake today?" She shakes her head and pulls out her phone. "He sent me a text this morning that he wouldn't come today since he felt under the weather. Why?" "Nothing, just wondering." You quickly blubber, grabbing your stuff quickly. "Hey, what's the rush? Wait for me alright." You hear Yoona chuckle as she packs her stuff. You apologise and wait for her.

You two part ways at the split road with a hug, and you gradually start to jog your way to his place. You stand there on his door step, bag slung over your shoulder with your fingers twisting the hem of your skirt. "Is it too late to turn around?", you think you to yourself. You shake away these thoughts, and raise your curled up fist to knock, but to your surprise, Jake opened the door, his eyes looked equally as shocked as yours. "Uhm, so I wanted to talk to you." You utter, and see Jake sigh. "Sure, I'm going on a walk if you wanna follow along." You nod and walk behind him.

"So, I've been thinking." His interest perks, and he glances your way. "I'll go to prom with you, but I don't understand why me? I'm not pretty. I'm not that ....good." You voice comes out weak, and Jake stops walking. "Don't say that. Not only are you incredibly beautiful, but you're also so, so kind and caring." He approaches you, his hand gliding up your cheek. "Are you not angry at me?" You ask, trying to avoid his eyes. "Angry? At you? That's ridiculous." He scoffs playfully, and you finally get the courage to look him in the eyes. "I might've been slightly upset since I thought you rejected me, but i guess I have a date for prom!" He smiles brightly and you look at him awestruck. "Of course," you reply and kiss him on the cheek once again with your arms swung around his neck, and his arms instinctively wrap around your waist. "You make me so happy." He is smiling widely as he pecks your face with butterfly kisses.

TAGLIST :: @swaivy