#he's a possessive bastard. ❤️

[atticwifesam]

dean winchester + obsessive love

cynthia bond, from ‘ruby’ // my dark vanessa: a novel, kate elizabeth russell // howl, florence + the machine

[navybrat817]

Back Off, He's Mine

Pairing: Husband!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: You put an agent in her place after she flirts with Bucky.

Word Count: Over 2.5k

Warnings: Established relationship, violent threats (not against the reader or Bucky), protective vibes, catty behavior, possessive vibes, implied sexy times, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: Inspired by an anon ask asking for Bucky's wife to stick up for him. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky stared at you from across the break room table, his pretty blue eyes not blinking as you looked back at him. The two of you were locked in a lengthy staring contest and you didn’t want to lose. But as the air in the room began to dry your eyes and he flashed you a beautiful smile, you couldn’t stop yourself from blinking. And the moment you did, he struck.

Snatching the last bit of the beloved pastry right from the middle of the table.

“Damn it,” you muttered, crossing your arms when he chuckled. “You cheated.”

“Oh, yeah?” he smirked, making a show of taking a slow bite. Your eyes followed his tongue licking his lips and you pressed your thighs together without thinking. The bastard made eating look sexy and he didn’t even take a full bite. He was taunting you. “How did I do that?”

“You cheated by existing.” You gestured to him, your smoking hot husband in his black t-shirt and tactical pants. To the person who made those clothes, you saluted them. “And you have serum in your veins, so I’m pretty sure you don’t have to blink as much as I do and that’s an unfair advantage.”

He chuckled again, graciously passing over the last small bite of the pastry. Your eyes lit up in thanks, popping it in your mouth with a moan. It was true love to share food like that. “I don’t think that’s how the serum works,” he teased. “And you’re a goddess, so isn’t that cheating, too?”

“Okay, but I’m not actually a goddess,” you countered, though he did make you feel like one.

His eyes softened, leaning across the table and crooking his finger. “Yeah, you are,” he whispered, kissing your lips once you met him halfway.

Before you could deepen the kiss, a shrill voice rang out in the breakroom. “Sergeant Barnes! There you are!”

Bucky’s cheek twitched as he settled back in his seat. The voice echoing in the room would’ve been enough to make anyone wince, but his enhanced hearing made it worse. He worked hard to block out noises so he’d be comfortable, and your eyes instantly narrowed at the person who brought him discomfort.

You recognized her after a moment, a pretty woman who would likely fall out of her top if she sneezed too hard. She hadn't worked there long, but she had her eye on Bucky from the start. She always flirted with him, tried to stand close to him and push her chest close, and he always dropped in the conversation that he was a married man. Apparently she didn’t get the hint that he wasn't interested. Either that or she was into taken men.

“Hi, agent,” Bucky politely said.

“Agent. Always so formal,” she giggled, dragging a chair over from another table and taking a seat without asking. “I’ve been looking all over for you, Barnes. You're a hard man to track down.”

Bubbly agents didn’t bother you in the slightest. You appreciated anyone who could stay upbeat in the line of work you dealt with. It wasn’t the enamored look in her eyes either that bothered you because you understood people wanting Bucky and you were secure in your relationship. No, what bothered you was that he had clearly been kissing his wife and she pointedly avoided looking at you after interrupting. That was just rude.

It also bothered you how uncomfortable Bucky looked when she moved her chair closer to him, his shoulders stiff and smile not reaching his eyes.

“Been spending some time with my wife,” he said proudly, reaching across the table to take your hand. You dipped your head down with a small smile, your heart still doing that funny flip like it had since the moment you met. He even managed to clear out the room so you two could be alone. “We were just finishing up.”

She didn’t spare you a glance as she set a hand on his metal arm. His cheek twitched again, squeezing your hand. It took a lot of effort for you to not knock her back from the table for touching him without his permission. “Excuse me,” you began, your tone even. “I don’t-”

“Do you think you could spar with me later?” she cut you off and either didn’t see or ignored your glare, leaning forward in her seat to make her chest stick out more. Bucky didn’t look. “I’ve been having trouble with a couple of moves and you’re so good at them,” she added, her eyes on him like she wanted to eat him up.

Which wasn’t going to happen.

“I don't think…” he stopped when her fingers trailed higher.

“Please, Sergeant?” she pouted.

Your eyes went back to your husband to get a read on him and make sure he was okay. He wasn't. His smile still didn't look right and his back was ramrod straight. Squeezing his hand seemed to ground him since he breathed a little easier, though your anger was simmering.

“I, um, don’t mind sparring if you really need the help,” Bucky began, gently pulling his arm away. “But you interrupted my time with my wife.”

Her smile faltered while yours widened. Bucky didn't like anyone cutting you off, whether that was your time together or interrupting you speaking. “What?” she asked.

“Hi there. Been sitting here the whole time.” You wiggled your fingers when she finally looked your way. “Excuse us for a second,” you said, avoiding her stare the way she avoided yours. “Bucky, do you think you can wait outside? This agent and I need to have a little chat.”

Your husband looked like he was trying not to laugh and you would take laughter over discomfort any day of the week. “Be nice if you can,” he teased, pressing a featherlight kiss to your hand. “I love you, baby,” he whispered.

“I love you, too,” you whispered, something unspoken passing between the two of you.

Defending each other was second nature, always would be.

Bucky didn’t immediately leave the room when he stood up. Instead he rounded the table so he could bend down and kiss your mouth, too. You smiled as it lingered, your heart skipping a beat. “Don’t keep me waiting out there long, Mrs. Barnes,” he whispered.

“I won't, Mr. Barnes,” you teased, tucking some of his hair behind his ear.

Straightening up, he gave a small nod to the agent for her sake. “Come find me later if you still want to talk about sparring. Maybe I can find someone for you.”

“Okay, Sergeant,” she smiled, a glimmer of hope in her eyes. That look wouldn’t last.

You waited until Bucky was gone to face the agent, who stopped smiling the second your husband was out of sight. Leaning back in your seat, you crossed your arms and asked point-blank, “You trying to fuck my husband?”

The wide-eyed expression was priceless when she realized you weren't asking as a joke. “What are you... I just asked him to spar,” she tried to brush it off.

“Please, don't insult my intelligence,” you said. It was beneath both of you to do so. “I get why you want him. Besides being one of the sexiest creatures to ever exist, he’s a good man. Polite, probably treats you with respect. More than most of the men around here.”

She shifted away from you and nodded. “He's a nice guy.”

“He is,” you agreed. They didn't make men like Bucky anymore. “And I’m not going to tell you to stop hitting on my husband, but I highly suggest that you back off. At the very least, don’t throw yourself at him right in front of me. It’s sad.”

“Why?” She had the nerve to smirk. “Worried I’ll steal him away?”

You smirked, too. She had balls and you respected that, but this wasn’t a battle she’d win. “Steal him away? You make it sound like he’s a toy and he isn’t. He’s a man, my man,” you said, holding up your hand so she could get a good look at your wedding ring. “And you are not a threat in the slightest. Our bond is much stronger than that.”

Her smirk went away fast, replaced by something sad. You almost felt sorry for her until she said, “Jealousy isn't a good look on you. It’s kind of… ugly.”

You scoffed. If she wanted to play, you’d play. “Jealous of what? You hitting on a married man who doesn't want you?” you asked, not feeling guilty in the slightest when her face fell. “I’m not telling you to back off because I'm jealous. I told you that because you’re only going to embarrass yourself if you keep trying and you’re going to make my husband more uncomfortable than he already is. I don’t like people making my husband uncomfortable.”

An unspoken threat hung in the air long enough that she swallowed. “And how exactly did I make him uncomfortable?”

“Besides you hitting on him, you touched him without making sure it was okay to do so,” you answered, letting a bit of venom seep into your tone. Bucky went years without autonomy and consent was important to you. He suffered enough and didn’t need to deal with things like this. “I’d hope as an agent you’d be able to pick up on subtle body language cues enough to know that he didn’t want you touching him.”

“And how do you know he doesn’t want me touching him? Are you a mind reader or something?” she sneered, flicking a nonexistent piece of flint from her shirt. “If he really didn't want me touching him, he would've said so. And guess what? He didn't say a word.”

You saw red, your hands curling into fists. For her to ignore the nonverbal cues… “I know my husband. I know Bucky. He doesn’t want you touching him nor does he want to start anything with you because he’s extremely faithful. He won’t throw away a loving, trusting marriage for a quick fuck or doomed affair,” you stated. She bristled, but tried to recover. “If you make a pass at him, he’ll reject you. He’ll do it as respectfully as he can because he’s a good guy, but he will reject you. That’s a promise.”

“Because he loves you so much. Jesus, what makes you so special?” she spat, surprising you both. But the longer you looked at her, the more she deflated under your stare. “I mean… He doesn’t say much to me, but when he does it’s always about you. ‘My wife this’ and ���my wife that’ and he’s always so… proud.” She shook her head. “Do you know how lucky you are?”

You did feel a little sorry for her now. Crushes hurt, but better that she hurt now and heal than to keep pushing and hurt more later. “I’m not special. We just love each other, that’s all. And, trust me, I’m aware that I’m very lucky to have him. Someone who gets me and will fight for and beside me,” you said, a loving smile touching your lips. You hoped Bucky was listening outside the door. “There’s a guy out there waiting for you, but that guy isn’t Bucky. So don’t lower yourself by trying to go after someone who’s taken.”

She side-eyed you, crossing her arms over her ample chest. “And what if I don’t stop?” she asked.

You giggled humorously, all sympathy gone. The agent actually looked nervous at that sound and you were glad because you weren't going to play nice. “Well, if you don't back off, Bucky could make a complaint about you harassing him or at least request that you’re transferred. Maybe fired since you’re still in your probationary period,” you began, looking at your wedding band when she began to protest. “At the very least, I could have your schedule rearranged so you can spar with me. You see, Bucky taught me a few moves and if a bone or two breaks, well…”

It wasn't an empty threat either. Bucky loved fighting for you, but you could hold your own. It turned him on.

Her eyes darted to the door when you stood up and stretched. “Listen, you don't need to-”

“But do you know what I'm going to do for now?” you asked, cutting her off the way she cut you off. “I'm going to take my husband to one of the interrogation rooms and suck the soul out of his body through his incredible cock,” you smiled sweetly, taking pleasure in the sputtering sound she made. “And after he recovers, he’ll have the choice of bending me over the table and either eating or fucking my pussy. He’ll probably choose both. He’s pretty insatiable.”

She got to her feet, too, and you half expected to see smoke come out of her ears. “I don't need to hear–”

“What? Does hearing that Bucky is going to fuck me and not you make you uncomfortable?” you asked innocently before you got close to her. “Shove your tits in my husband's face again or touch him without his explicit consent, and I won't just make you uncomfortable. I’ll make your life a living hell.”

While you lost the staring contest to Bucky earlier, you very much won against this agent. She stood perfectly still and averted her gaze as you pushed your chair in. “Is that a threat?” she mumbled.

A cliche question, so why not give a cliche answer? “It’s a promise,” you smiled, heading to the door. “Oh, if he does decide to spar with you, I expect you to apologize and behave yourself. I’ll hear about it if you don't.”

Bucky leaned against the wall, waiting for you as you exited the room. He looked over the moon. “We’re going to one of the interrogation rooms, huh?”

You giggled, taking his hand as your cheeks warmed. “Of course, that's what you took from that.”

“How could I not?” he asked, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “Thanks, baby. I thought I dropped enough hints that she’d back off.”

“Nothing to thank me for,” you assured him. He deserved to be comfortable at work. If some guy kept hitting on you, he would've stepped in, too.

“You think she’ll back off now?”

“I think so, but you tell me if she doesn't,” you said. You’d keep an eye on her, too, just in case. And if she pushed again, you’d put her back in her place. Maybe you’d make her listen while Bucky fucked you. With his permission, of course. “So, which room should we go to?”

He chuckled, the sound a happy one in the hall. “Room B. We can be as loud as we want,” he replied, tugging you closer. “I’ll show you just how special you are to me.”

Heat filled your body, anticipating how good it would feel to have him fuck your throat and more. “My body is ready, Sergeant,” you teased, shrieking when he picked you up and ignoring the whistles from other agents that walked by.

They were used to the shenanigans of Mr. and Mrs. Barnes by now.

And you couldn't wait for more.

Just like we deserve a loving Bucky, he deserves love, too. ❤️ Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[rivatar]

“You’re Mine Now”

Pairing: Aged!Up!Lo’ak x fem!omatikayan!reader

W/c: 2.5k (oops)

Warnings/content: MDNI, heavy smut, non-con, dacryphilia, innocence/corruption kink, possessive & rough Lo’ak, reader is a virgin, cream pie, (lmk if I missed any!)

A/n: this is for prompt 4 of Pandora’s Bloody Moon. I know Bia’s acc is deleted but @hidden-snow asked that we continue the event. So here ya go, ya filthy sluts 💖

Also credit to @sugarsong78 for creating the idea of the Blood Moon! ❤️

P.S. if any of you have watched the movie Fear with Mark Wahlberg and Reese Witherspoon— it’s kinda giving that whole psychopath vibe 🤭👀

Lo’ak had always had eyes for you. Sure, he got around and had his fair share of girls, but you made him unbelievably curious and he came to the conclusion that he needed to corrupt you before anyone else did, or he would never be satisfied.

Maybe it was because you were so untouchable. He was certain you were a virgin because he knew almost all the other guys have tried to sweet talk you and always end up failing, just like he did. He had thought he would have an advantage as the Olo’eyktan’s son but you still turned him down, much to his frustration.

It wasn’t that he was desperate for sex, he could easily hook up with many of the other omatikaya girls. But something about you always intrigued him and drew in his attention. Maybe it was the chase that he liked so much, the fact that you wouldn’t give into him made him want you more, like a challenge. He spent far too much time thinking about you and wanting to know more about you. He would talk to you and joke with you whenever he could, constantly trying to just earn a spot with you. There was even times he thought of you when he was fucking another girl so that he could finish. He was infatuated and wanted to have you and ruin you. He wanted to show you how good he can make you feel and watch you crumble over and over again though multiple orgasms until you were shaking from being overstimulated. He wanted to be the first. But how could he if you wouldn’t even give him the slightest chance?

Tonight was the night the Blood Moon would make its appearance; all Na’vi knew and many prepared themselves the best they could. A lot of families essentially locked themselves inside their houses and took sleeping medicine so that they wouldn’t be awake and outside roaming in their demon form.

On the other hand, a lot of Na’vi embraced this phenomenon. They thought of it as a natural way of life and it should be able to take its course through them for just one night of the year. Eywa made no mistakes to them, so surely there was a reason for this too.

Lo’ak was aware this was tonight and he made up his mind and had a plan in order. He was going to find you and have you, no matter what. And the scheming bastard was so clever that he already knew he was going to blame his shameful behavior on the Blood Moon’s effect on him, so that hopefully you would forgive him afterwards.

…

You on the other hand, were one who didn’t want to participate in this and you were going to take all the precautions to avoid everyone and the consequences. This wasn’t your first rodeo, you’ve done this before on this night each year and have been fine. Your process was to close off your entrance so one would come in and so the moonlight wouldn’t touch you and make you possessed. Once the Blood moonlight hit the Na’vi skin, it was game over.

To trap yourself in, years ago you had made a woven covering supported with wooden beams that covers where your opening to your hut is. It was still evening but you would rather be safe then sorry so you put it up and tied it securely to the sides of your hut to keep it in place.

Then you sat and waited and ate your dinner alone. Praying to Eywa nothing would happen to you tonight.

…

You lifted the covers on your cot to tuck yourself in, deciding to try and go ahead and go to sleep.

Your ear twitches as you hear a sound outside your living space, as if someone was walking up to your blocked-off entrance.

BANG, BANG, BANG.

Your heart dropped as you stared fearfully at your makeshift door being banged on repeatedly.

“YAWNEEEE!! ITS LOAKKK!!” He shouted loudly while still banging the door.

What in Eywa’s name? Lo’ak?? Yawne???

You were so shocked you didn’t speak, not knowing what to say and hoping maybe he’d go away. He wouldn’t be in his right mind right now.

The banging continued. “You gonna let me in??? Or do I have to break in myself??” He yelled while obnoxiously laughing.

“L-Lo’ak, please go away! I’m trying to sleep,” you tried to deny his request politely.

“Nahhh baby, why would I leave when I need you so bad?? Think I’ll dieee if I don’t get you!”

What the hell? This cannot be happening. Your heart was pounding and your hands were clammy in fear. He was literally insane right now.

Then he used all his strength which was heightened right now to shake and break your barrier down, snapping the ties loose and it fell forward with a thud in front of him.

Standing at the door, he instantly made eye contact with you sitting on your bed.

The sight of him was enough to make you nearly piss yourself. His skin was grey and his freckles were bright red, a much different look from his normal vibrant blue. But his eyes were the most horrific part; replacing the normal yellow tint, they were now red orbs glowing in the dark of the night. He smiled devilishly from ear to ear, flashing his even larger fangs and ran his tongue over his teeth like you were his delicious prey. He looked deranged, like a psycho.

“Hi, yawne,” he whispered eerily, still smiling and staring deep into your soul. It seemed to make him smile bigger seeing how terrified you looked trying to cower back onto the bed. You noticed the tent in his loincloth and tears started forming in your eyes. You knew another effect of the Blood Moon was heightened sexual urges.

“Lo’ak please!! Don’t do this!!” You begged.

He quietly stalked closer to you until he could kneel next to your bed. He was even scarier up close.

“Why not? I don’t think I can wait a second longer, baby,” he rubbed your leg and you jumped at the contact.

“I don’t want to!” You cried, warm tears cascading down your cheeks.

You looked into those eyes and didn’t see the Lo’ak you normally knew. No, he was possessed right now, of course it wasn’t really him.

He ran his calloused hand up your leg to cup your pussy through your cloth. You barely whimpered in both terror and sudden pleasure shooting up your spine as you continued crying.

He grinned more. He thought you looked so pretty when you cried.

He then moved your loincloth to the side to touch your bare cunt.

“You’re wet already. You may not want this but your pretty pussy is crying out for me,” he tried convincing you; and subconsciously himself.

He slid a finger inside you swiftly and watched your face intently for a reaction. You were trying so hard not to give him any reaction but you have never felt this before so the pleasure was an unknown feeling for you that you couldn’t control.

All you could do was stare at him as your chest heaved up and down, adjusting to the new stretch his long finger provided.

He pulled it back and slammed back in. A gasp slipped out of your mouth as your pussy fluttered, gripping him perfectly.

“Fuck, that little virgin pussy is sucking me in so tight. Don’t worry, I’ll stretch you out a bit before you have to take my cock,” Lo’ak said.

“Please stop,” you begged again and shook your head ‘no’, yet feeling betrayed by your body succumbing to the pleasure.

Your unwillingness seemed to only make him want you more. He was determined to make you take it and make you cum and feel good. By the end of it you were gonna like it, he promised himself in his mind.

“But you’re doing so good. I gotta claim you as mine now,” he stated plainly, as if that wasn’t a big deal nor required your consent.

He pumped his finger into you and you felt an unfamiliar tightening and gooey feeling in your lower stomach. It felt so good after the initial stretch. You tried to not moan but you couldn’t help it, so you threw your head back so you at least wouldn’t have to look at him. You spread your legs more without even thinking. He didn’t want to wait any longer to ravish you, and ruin you and your innocence.

He suddenly yanked your loincloth off and decided your top needed to go too so he ripped it off as well, leaving you on display for him.

He nearly drooled at the sight, you were like a fresh meal set out and prepared for him, all for his taking.

“Gonna make you cum first before I fuck you,” he told you.

He lowered his head to lick at your clit and continued pumping his single digit. The feeling of his rough tongue was something else, it was entirely foreign and nothing like you could’ve ever imagined. It was heavenly.

He then added another finger, assuming you were ready for it by the way your wetness coated his fingers and knuckles. Your sounds of pleasure tumbled from your lips and he savored every one of them like the sweetest song to his ears.

“Feels good, right?” He asked sensually.

You nodded your head and gave a whiny, pathetic “mhmm”

“Yeah I know it fucking does. Should’ve done this to you a long time ago”

Your brain didn’t register that he wanted to do this before now, too. Your adrenaline coursed through your veins and all your senses were heightened. So many unfamiliar feelings all at once and you had no choice but to lay and take it.

“I-It feels weird,” you panted “like I’m about to pee” your eyebrows scrunched up.

He laughed at your pure innocence, it filled him with so much pride and his ego swelled.

“That means you’re gonna cum. Poor girls never felt an orgasm before, huh?”

Your heart sped up faster and the pleasure increased more and more, rushing you towards the climax.

“You never even touched yourself? Really?”

You shook your head no, barely processing his words.

He made a noise almost like a growl. “Fuck, you’re driving me crazy. So fucking sweet and innocent, all for me to corrupt”

And just like that, you felt a release rush through you and taking over your body. You shook uncontrollably and yelled loudly, conquering your first ever orgasm. He kept licking and pumping to prolong it. It then turned into oversensitivity and you pushing his head away the best you could. He decided to be nice and let off you.

You panted and tried to come back down from it, exhausted already. He chuckled and smiled at you as he licked up all your mess off his face and hand. Your eyebrows were still crunched, but right now it was in confusion and horror at how nasty he was— that just seemed so dirty.

Without saying another word, he pulled down his loincloth to let his cock spring out. You looked at it in curiosity and fear.

“Never seen one of these before, have you?”

You weakly shook your head no, wondering how in the world that was supposed to go inside you?

He started jerking himself slowly and you watched him, frozen in your place. He didn’t take his eyes off you, those red eyes boring into your soul.

“Get on your hands and knees,” he roughly commanded, pointing at the floor in front of him.

You knew you had no choice but to obey, so you slowly and hesitantly did so.

“Good. Now arch that pretty back some”

You again did as he said, poking your ass out more for him.

“Mmmm. What a beautiful sight,” he spoke in awe and approval. He was checking out every part of you like this, staring mainly at your glistening, puffy cunt all eager and ready to be taken.

You were scared of him in his current state and trying to get this over with. You were sure he was gonna hurt you with his cock, judging by the size of him.

You heard him lower himself to his knees behind you and then felt his hand grab onto your hip. He lined himself up and you gasped when you felt his tip make contact with your hole.

“Gonna make you mine now. Your mind, body, and soul will be connected to me now. You never forget your first. And don’t worry, you’re gonna love this cock,” he said.

You weakly turned your head towards him and nodded, not wanting to anger him while he was like this. He could kill you right now if he wanted to.

“Beg for it”

“W-What?”

“I said fucking beg for it. Act like you want it.” He demanded harshly. “Good girls say please”

“Please, Lo’ak” you whimpered weakly.

He spanked your ass hard. “Say it like you mean it!”

“Please! Please! I need it!”

“Good girl,” he finally praised.

Shifting his hips forward, he pressed inside you. The stretch due to his thick girth was even better than he imagined. You were so warm and wet and tight for him.

You winced in pain at the stretch but honestly took it like a champ. You didn’t want to sound pathetically in pain because of him and let him win this.

“You feel so good,” he groaned deeply.

He started thrusting, setting a brutal pace. He was lost in the feeling, he had never felt a pussy this good.

You moaned and tried to cover your noise with your hand. You felt so full and his dick was reaching to where his fingers couldn’t get to. He pressed his back over you and grabbed under your jaw to bring your face next to his. This caused your back to arch more, your flesh smacking and getting louder and louder

“Taking it so well. Be a good girl and cum on my cock, will you?” He asked while tilting his head to look at your face, sloppily kissing your cheek.

You hummed and moaned, not really answering him. Your face was scrunched up and your eyes occasionally opened to look at the ceiling. You were caught up in your pleasure too and were losing all your thoughts.

Before you could register, the feeling came again and your orgasm ripped through you. You made a mess on his dick as your juices flowed out while you convulsed on his length.

“Fuck! That’s so hot,” Lo’ak grunted, watching your pussy cream on his cock. It was more than enough to make him finish too.

“Gonna fill you up now so you’ll smell like me and all the guys will know I claimed you for myself before they could”

His cum spurted inside you and painted your walls pearly white. You felt the warmness and the way everything got even more slippery as his dick was still fucking you, getting every last drop of cum out.

He finally slowed down and you slumped to the floor, absolutely exhausted.

“Good job yawne, I’m so proud of you,” he praised sweetly, quite contrary to the way he appeared— looking like a demon from a nightmare.

He rose up to go over and grab the boundary he broke through earlier. Your ears perked up and wondered what he was doing.

“Gotta make sure no one else wonders in here with us,” he answered your unspoken question.

“You’re mine now.”

Taglist/moots: @neteyamssyulang @bambithewriter @professional-yapper @ikeyniofthetayrangi @loakstahni @inolaphoenix @property-of-neteyam @loak-te-suli @nonamevenus (if you don’t wanna be tagged just lmk!!)

[greycloudsinwinter]

Hii, could you write a Yandere Jacaerys Velaryon with a Targaryen reader? (the reader is Viserys and Alicent's daughter)

YANDERE JACAERYS VELARYON X TARGERYAN READER

🌊 you were the second daughter to alicent Hightower born after aemond . Alicent often spoiled you since unlike your other siblings you were close to normal. Normal in being that you didn’t cause trouble or rumours.

🌊your half sister rhaenyra had brought up the discussion of your betrothal to the small council. Alicent desperately tried to keep you away from your half sister and her plain featured sons however failed to do so and as a way to repair the family you and your nephew jacaerys would wed on your sixteenth name day.

🌊jacaerys wanted a marriage full of love and trust so he tried to find out everything about you. however he didn’t know was doing this would cause him to fall into a pit of infatuation.

🌊his obsession grew quickly and just as quickly as it came the stronger it grew. He began to become possessive demanding that as his future bride you should only be around him and no others since they could taint you. He even brought it up to the council staring alicent in the eyes as he said “I would not want my future bride to be tainted by I’ll willed men and bastards” leaving alicent in a fit of rage . As she knew and everyone knew who the true bastards where in king’s landing.he was left successful so you are no longer around any others other then him and your mother…

🌊he forces you to wear red all green is burned in your wardrobe.

🌊anyone dares look at you will be fed to vermax under suspicious circumstances that they had somehow made there way to the dragon pit and went to see a dragon.( they didn’t jacaerys forced them to go down there and vermax feeling his riders feelings did as he was told ).

🌊as soon as you are married he takes you to dragon stone there you can only have his company he doesn’t allow you to have maids he says “I can’t trust them with you you far to important to me “.

🌊he wants an heir really bad so he gets to work if you can’t have a child for some reason he blames it on your mother and the greens .

🌊he does spoil you loads by giving you jewels and trin keys that you may not need but looks gorgeous.

🌊if you have a dragon he will not allow you to ride it he will only allow you to ride with him on his dragon.

🌊if for whatever reason you have to go in public he showers you in pda and I mean SHOWERS you.

🌊when the dance of dragons begins he is frustrated and the news of his brothers death just adds to it . He will be furious and throw tantrums and will say things like “your lucky little star I got you out of there when I did !” And “now can you see why I must keep you here in this room those ignorant usurpers are traitors and would’ve tainted you without a single thought… I saved you “

🌊he will guilt trip you and manipulate you with every trick in the book until your truly obedient for him don’t get me wrong though he will 100% be loyal to you and anything you wish is yours there are only two rules :

1. Stay with him

2. Don’t ever try and leave him.

🌊he is 7/10 not the worse yandere to have but definitely not the best . Overall good luck …

Thank you for the request ❤️❤️

[aphroditelovesu]

Yandere Henry VIII w/Mistress!Reader Headcanons (Romantic)

❝ 👑 — lady l: okay, I literally finished this in 30 minutes because I was so excited. I've been thinking about this since I wrote this reaction and decided to do some hcs! Hope you like it!! ❤️

❝tw: mention of cheating, implied death and murder, manipulation.

❝ 👑pairing: yandere!henry viii x female!reader.

You came from an English noble family that craved riches and power, like all nobles of that time. Your father was rich and powerful, but he wanted more, he wanted more power and he had a way of getting it.

You were his only daughter, he no longer had legitimate descendants after the death of your mother in childbirth, who was very dear to him. So it was your duty to bring fortune and power to your family.

You grew up knowing that one day you would have to marry some rich man and you were educated from an early age to learn how to be a good wife and give strong sons to your future husband. That has always been your duty and what you were taught to believe.

Until the day you went to the English Court and met the King. You and your father had been invited to celebrate the birth of his son, albeit a bastard. Henry FitzRoy, unfortunately, Catherine of Aragon had not been able to produce a male child for him, which was her main function.

Henry laid eyes on you the first moment he met you during the party. You were so young and shy, standing next to your father and looking around the corners shyly. You caught his attention and he decided he wanted you.

You decided to leave the room where the party was taking place, to get some air and be able to breathe properly. Henry went after you and cornered you against a wall, looking intensely at you.

Your heart skipped a beat when you came face to face with the King of England, but you smiled and lowered your eyes, in a submissive posture. Henry smiled in approval and touched your face affectionately, taking in your gentle, soft features. So perfect and so beautiful. He bent down to your ear and said he would like to see you more often.

Your legs had gone weak but you nodded and he smiled in approval. From that date on, you and Henry began to meet in secret and all of these meetings were platonic, nothing sexual had happened, only a few kisses. Henry found himself enjoying your company more and more and longing for you, forgetting about his other mistresses and focusing entirely on you.

Your father eventually found out about your encounters with Henry and he was ecstatic. Here was the opportunity to gain more power and status if you became Henry's mistress. He was the one who encouraged you to accept the King's advances and become his mistress.

Henry was over the moon when you became his mistress. Now he could have you whenever he wanted. He adored you, your body, your personality, everything about you. You were so sweet and naive, even when he was worshiping you in the privacy of his chambers, being ravaged by the King.

He spoiled you more than anything. Your family had received titles and powers, but the real power and wealth were yours. Henry spoiled you beyond measure, jewelry, dresses, shoes, and even properties were bestowed upon you. Everything you wanted was yours, all you had to do was let yourself be worshiped by the King.

Being his mistress had several perks, and although you had made enemies, none of them really mattered when you were with him. You ended up falling in love and Henry was increasingly consumed by his passion and obsession.

He became more possessive and jealous of you every day, no one could look at you more than once and Henry would end up becoming a tyrant for you. He has no problem eliminating anyone who might affect you. He is yours and you are his. Henry would do anything for you, from abdicating his throne to making you Queen if you asked.

You were satisfied with your status as a mistress, but the idea of ​​becoming Queen of England appealed to you, just as it did to your father. Henry encouraged you to accept this deal, encouraged you to marry him and become his Queen. You hesitated for a while, but after discovering you were pregnant, you agreed to marry Henry.

Henry would do everything to make this happen, that you would become his Queen and the son you carried would be legitimate. He would send letters to the Vatican, and make alliances and enemies, he didn't care, but he would have you as his Queen.

Whatever it takes. If he has to pay a high price for it, so be it. Henry will have you as his Queen and wife.

All the blood spilled, the wars and conflicts were worth it for Henry when he was able to marry you, crown you Queen of England and when he held his son in his arms as you slept peacefully after giving birth.

[calmcoldevening]

Hey~ Sugarcube 💋

if you don't mind can you do a story about Charles Lee Ray , Thomas hewitt, Bubba Sawyer,and Michael myers with s/o who wears hot clothes and has big boobs.

s/o really likes sucking her breasts, when having sex s/o also really likes her breasts being played or massaged.

You are free to ignore my request, my dear. because I don't make you uncomfortable .

Your work is like a magic💋🥹❤️🌹

Slashers with s/o who has big boobs

TW: nsfw content, mention of murder

So, it is slashers x fem!reader, i hope you enjoy it :)

Charles Lee Ray

This man has always been particularly domineering and possessive. Especially if it is about you, his little doll. Did you specially wear such short tight clothes for your walk? And even when some bastards whistled after you, you looked at Charles with the most innocent angelic smile. What a devil.

That's why you were kneeling in front of a man in your living room right now. Charles was sitting on a chair with his trousers pulled down to his ankles and grinning, looking at you and resting his chin on his hand. You moved your mouth quickly, swallowing the man's cock all the way to the throat. Saliva was running down your face, tears were rolling out of your eyes from an unpleasant sensation. But the man encouraged you with his trademark words like "Good girl" or "Such an obedient doll". Charles gently stroked your temples.

When he finished, the man pulled the penis out of your mouth with a loud pop, releasing the seed on your chest. Or let out a deep groan.

"Smart girl. Come here"

Charles patted his thigh and you obediently climbed into his lap. With one hand he squeezed your ass, with the other he pushed the edge of your panties and inserted his cock, which had already begun to harden again, inside. The man grinned, hearing your cute moans. He began to slowly lower you onto the penis, squeezing your breasts with his free hand and massaging your nipple covered with his sperm.

"Oh, you take me so well, my pretty girl"

He whispered, kissing the clean skin of your chest. Charles loved your body so much. So beautiful and soft, as if you were a real work of art. He loved every inch of your delicate skin. He liked to squeeze your breasts and thighs, leaving hickeys or marks from teeth or nails on them, so that everyone could see that you belonged to him. Just thinking about you made his pants tighten.

"That's it, good girl. Come on, come to Daddy"

Charles stuck his hand down and started furiously rubbing your clitoris, biting your neck. Your eyes roll up when the orgasm hits you in waves.

"What a wonderful girl. Well done. Now you understand that in such clothes it is better to walk only in front of me, right, baby?"

Thomas Hewitt

You were a goddess. Literally the best thing that happened in his life. The fact that you were not afraid of his face, his activities and actions, gave him some confidence. You loved him. And he adored you for it.

But he never liked his uncles' actions towards you. Even if Hoyt told him to relax, because these are all simple jokes, Thomas could not let them get away with it and tried to convey to the brains of these men that they have no right to treat you like this, his treasure. Besides, Hoyt often suggested using you as bait for particularly careless tourists. Such victims were eventually dismembered on Thomas' desk in the most brutal way. It doesn't matter what kind of clothes you were wearing, if you like to wear it. You're just his darling girl.

So now you were sitting on your bed, leaning on the headboard, and Tommy was lying on your lap, sadly pursing his lips. You gently massaged his scalp and combed his tangled black hair with your fingers. Thomas purred slightly as he kissed the exposed part of your thigh.

He was always at peace with you. As if he didn't kill people. It was as if all his relatives were not in this house. As if he wasn't a monster. As if he was normal. Only with you could he feel good and joyful.

Finally he lifts his head and looks into your eyes. You're so beautiful... Just for him. You slowly unbutton the lock of his mask and pull off the coarse fabric. Thomas flinches reflexively when your soft palm rests on his brutal scars. He has not yet fully got used to the fact that you see him without a mask, but now he is sure that you will not judge him, that you will accept him in any way. Because you love him.

Thomas gently covers your lips with his, sliding his palm along your body and stopping at your rapidly heaving chest. He gently squeezes your flesh, and you whine hollowly into a kiss. Thomas knows how much you like it.

A man gently kisses your collarbones and leaves chaotic red flowers on your chest while you gently stroke his hair. Thomas bites your nipple lightly, which makes you squeal, and immediately kisses the bite site. He saw you responding to that victim's flirting, honey. You wanted to make him jealous. Thomas forcefully squeezes your other breast, massaging your pink nipple with my finger.

He undresses, helping you do the same, and puts you on his lap. His thick fingers gently enter your entrance, knocking loud moans out of you. Having finished with the preparation, Thomas gently lowers you onto his cock, allowing you to move on it yourself. You cover your mouth with your hand, trying to be quiet. Tommy instantly grabs your palm, brings it to his face and kisses each of your fingers. Don't hold back. Thomas wants Charlie to hear it. He needs to understand who really makes you feel good. Tommy plays with your breasts as you slowly approach the edge. You arrive at the same time, Thomas gently kisses you on the neck, pressing your body to his.

He's so glad you're in his life. You're the best.

Bubba Sawyer

Bubba often worries about you. He sees how tired you get from various chores around the house, and how often your body looks tense, given your shape. Therefore, he tries to help you at any opportunity that appears. This is a very cute boy.

You were standing in the kitchen making the cookies that all the Sawyers loved so much. A moment later, Bubba's soft hands fall on your waist, pulling you to him. A man whines softly in your ear worried sounds, and you smile, telling him that everything is fine. But Bubba always felt that his brothers were overloading you. Although he can't help but rejoice at your help to this house, because you stayed with them even after you found out what they were doing.

Bubba gently rubs his cheek against your neck and massages your soft sides, gradually moving to your shoulders. He knows that massage helps to relieve tension and fatigue. A man squeals when you take his palm and put it on your chest. The pale face under the mask blushes. He mumbles something to himself, averting an embarrassed look, but obeys you, starting to gently knead your soft flesh. After a couple of minutes, you already feel his clothed erection pressing against your ass.

It's good that Bubba's older brothers have gone to a neighboring city for some kind of competition. It would be awkward if they came in and saw you and Bubba in this position. The man whined and diligently sucked one of your breasts, gently massaging the other with his hand. You sighed languidly, closing your eyes and pulling Bubba by his curly brown hair closer to your body. God, he's always been so good at this. The man looked at you with puppy eyes, releasing your swollen nipple from his mouth with a vulgar squelching. This boy loves to make you feel good.

Descending lower, Bubba begins to actively work with your entrance, caressing the clitoris. He feels you coming to the edge and starts working faster. Making quiet sobs, you press his face harder against your body, trying to wait out the orgasm. When Bubba straightens up, you see how his face glistens with your juices, and his eyes are full of pleasure and affection. He likes to see you so much after your orgasm, you are so beautiful.

Michael Myers

Michael was always so annoyed by the way other people looked at you. You were so beautiful, like a perfect doll, different from the gray mass of other people. And people enjoyed this beauty. They gave you sidelong glances, allowed themselves to casually touch you and talk to you. But you were his. You belonged to him, the Haddenfield Boogeyman. Of course, all these stupid people will later be found dead and torn to pieces in the doorways. Of course, if the police can identify this bloody mess.

You were sitting in the living room watching some boring TV show. As soon as the back door opened, you jumped up joyfully and excitedly followed the sound. Michael was standing there, covered in blood still not completely dried on his suit and mask, and with a knife in his hand.

His weapon is instantly on the floor when Michael sees you completely: the same short skirt, slightly covering your hips and a tight top. Myers feels his own blood boiling furiously in his veins, throbbing in his head. A moment later, and the man rushes at you, pressing your body against the wall in one easy movement. He holds you by the hips with one hand, rolling the edge of the mask up with the other hand. You squeal painfully when sharp white teeth pierce your delicate skin between your shoulder and neck. Michael growls, now holding your ass with one hand and squeezing one of your breasts with the other. Your cute habit of going home without a bra.

Now your clothes will be irrevocably stained with red. It is unlikely that the blood is washed off from such bright colors. Although it was your favorite outfit. But you can only walk in it in front of him. Remember that.

After a couple of long minutes, you were already lying on the bed in your bedroom. Disheveled hair, a torn skirt on the side and a top lying on the floor. Your neck was covered with red marks just like your chest. You were having a hard time catching your breath.

After making a few finger movements inside you, Michael couldn't pull the stretch. He had to make sure that you would remember this moment for a long time. Without thinking twice, he lines up with your entrance, sliding his cock over your clitoris several times, and abruptly enters a good half. You hiss, grabbing Michael by the shoulders and scratching his back. The man hisses contentedly, breathing into your neck, and squeezes your right breast in his palm, massaging the swollen nipple. You're so needy. None of those bastards will ever see you like this.

Picking up the pace, Michael leaves chaotic red flowers on your chest and collarbones. A dark blue color appears around the bloody circles. Caressing your breasts, Michael continuously whines "Mine", trying to remember the sensations. When you are already approaching the edge, he starts frantically circling his fingers over your clitoris, causing stars in your eyes. When he finishes, Michael presses you to his hips, releasing his seed into you.

"Only mine"

[shadowsingercassia]

And I am Admiring You

Azrielxreader

Summary: baking cookies with Azriel bc I needed some fluff

Words: 621

Warnings: none!

-------------------------☆-------------------------

“Azzie!” he heard you call from the other side of the small cabin you had in Illyria. Immediately, he shot up to his feet, his shadows rushing across the house. Laughter soon filled the empty sitting room and he breathed out a sigh of relief.

With determined steps, he strode to the kitchen, where you had collected ingredients. “What are you doing here?” He asked, tilting his head to the side. “I’m baking cookies, are you that oblivious?” In truth, Azriel thought that you was the oblivious one. He was being so direct of his feelings towards you and yet, here you stood, innocently blinking your eyelashes at him and telling him you were going to bake cookies.

“And why did I have to come all this way to the kitchen?” Rolling your eyes, you took hold of his hand. His heart leapt at the contact but he did his best not to show it. The tips of his ears took a pinkish shade and he let himself be dragged by you.

“We are baking cookies,” you smiled and he swore his breath hitched. The way you said ‘we’ so simply made him want to kiss you. But the only thing stopping him was his own fear. He thought that he would overstep the lines of your friendship and tear everything apart.

As you dropped his hand, he could feel the warmth that lingered from your touch, but he still wished you were still holding his hand. You started explaining how to bake cookies and how Rhysand’s mother taught you a few weeks ago. Azriel took in every word, treasuring it as if it was the last thing he would ever hear, memorizing every word.

“Are you listening?” you asked and Azriel flinched back, placing a hand over his heart in mock-offense. “Of course I was listening! Very intensely, I must add,” he told you, each word exaggerated. Your soft laughter followed and he wished he could bottle that up as well, wanting to hear it forever.

Magnificent, you was utterly magnificent.

And he was utterly captivated by you.

Without saying another word, your hand reached for the butter, cutting a piece with a knife. Azriel’s shoulders tensed up. What if you accidentally hurt yourself? He really had to stop over thinking, he was so overprotective, surely if he interfered, he would confuse you.

His hands clenched into fists at his sides, trying not to intervene and seem like a possessive bastard. “Can you grab a bowl from the cabinet?” you asked, your gaze still fixed to the butter you were cutting into little pieces. So it would stir easier, he remembered your words.

He reached for the cabinet, Azriel pulled it open but his shadows beat him to it and handed you the bowl first. His lips pulled into a frown and he heard you holding back a chuckle.

They continued like this, baking together, but it was mostly you doing everything while Azriel sat and admired you. At least his shadows helped you.

After what seemed like one second for Azriel but like eternity for you, the cookies were ready. Instinctively, his hand reached out but you slapped it away. It stung as he pulled it back, cradling it with his free hand. “Ow,” he said and narrowed his eyes at you, but you could see right through his bluff.

“I just don’t want you to burn yourself,” you told him nonchalantly.

“So now you care about me, angel?”

You shrug, “perhaps.”

“You’re being dramatic, Azzie,” you added, the corner of your lips tugging up into a smile.

Azriel reciprocated it, smiling at you genuinely and you memorized it, keeping the image deep into your heart.

He shrugs, “perhaps.”

-------------------------☆-------------------------

Their Spot Christmas/Solstice drabbles taglist: none yet!

general taglist: @blessthepizzaman @amara-moonlight @homeslices @flourishandblotts-inc @anarchiii @barb00235

comment '⭐️' to be added to my 'Their Spot Christmas/Solstice drabbles taglist!

comment '💕' to be added to my general taglist!

Love, Cassia ❤️

[mo0nfairy]

😍😍 OMG, I'm gonna be needing a part four to that Leon post stat.

(Love your writing it's amazing just like you are) ❤️🧡💛💚💙💜🤎

part 1. part 2. part 3.

tw :: re4 spoilers, obsessive!leon, yandere!leon, violence, knives, tasers, guns, explosives, framing, murder, abuse of power, death of a character, physical restrainment, noncon touching, thoughts of suicide, being knocked unconscious, shit goes down basically.

⸺ thank u, honeybaby !!!!! i've been vv busy these past few days, but this man has been HEAVY on my mind. i've also been listening to playing dangerous by our lord and savior lana del rey on repeat and it had my brain conjuring up some ideas... (also this part is long so buckle up friends)

you see, you've been praying everyday to earn back those damned memories that slipped from your mind 6 years ago. but in a attempt to do so, all you can feel is a gun against your head, an explosion against your body, and dust permeating your lungs. all before the classic cut to black welcomes you. no crying mouse-ley, no crying guard-dog. just empty darkness. through the abyss, however, you are now able to unveil memories that were buried deep within you. and whether the return of these past events is a good thing or not is up to you.

you remember a late august evening. the cool air and descending leaves would calm you, but your current circumstances prevent you from any serenity. an anonymous tip to the RPD claimed that you were in possession of illegal substances. and somehow, those said drugs had magically appeared into existence within your home. this leaves you here, being driven to the station by the officer of the month, marvin branagh. despite everything, you're grateful marvin was the one to arrest you. you happen to favor him and his basic understanding of boundaries, as opposed to a certain mutt you know far too well.

it's safe to say you've now got quite the reputation in the RPD with how much trouble you get into. and especially with how quickly the problems seem to fade away. you're being escorted through the station until another officer complains to marvin about some kids with fake ID's. he leaves you by yourself at an empty desk with one hand cuffed to the armrest. the desk right beside leon's. you look to the blonde beside you. his head is rested against his arms folded upon his desk, deep in slumber. his cheek is squished against the surface of his arm, pushing his lips out into a duck-like pout. your mugshot peeks out from beneath his sleeping form. you swear through his unintelligible murmuring, you hear a gentle whimper of your name. marvin had mentioned during the drive how he was up all night looking through your case (wouldn't be the first time), but you can't find it in yourself to feel bad for him. you don't trust him. even several years ago, something within you has always prevented you from trusting him.

you fiddle with a mr. raccoon toy as 20 minutes slowly tread by. completely overcome with boredom, you peak over leon's shoulder to see your case file beneath him. maybe you could find something useful inside, like the bastard responsible for all these false claims. using your free hand, you manage to slyly slip your case folder from under his weight. not without a quiet whine of "no, y/n/n... don't leave me..." good god, was he cuddling your mugshot? (it would be the closest he could get to you physically, after all). you ignore him entirely, thanking the heavens that this man is such a deep sleeper.

opening the file, you find standard information about your case. you read through the notes leon left behind, which causes nausea to then stir in your stomach. he jotted down his worries of your case closing and not being able to keep you in the station any longer; there was ideas of any potential loopholes in the system he could take advantage of and prove your innocence. beside his rambling, there was a long list of certain ways he can frame you for crimes to reel you back into his clutches. what in the actual fuck? and just when you thought this situation couldn't get worse, you find he used pictures of your friends at the shooting range, bullet holes piercing through their paper faces.

you read through the evidence in shock, until a sickeningly-sweet tone gasps your name and pulls you out of your trance. you look over the folder to see those familiar blue eyes peering into yours. leon lights up like a golden retriever with a bone when he wakes up and you're the first thing he sees, metaphorical tail wagging and all. to dream of you and to be the first thing he sees when he opens his eyes, it is pure heaven! only, instead of the early morning, love-drunk haze within his dreams, he is instead met with the heartbreaking look of horror on your face. his eyes trail down to see you holding his notes and his heart sinks to the pit of his stomach. no, no, no, it wasn't supposed to be like this! it was never supposed to be like this! you were supposed to fall in love with him! you are supposed to be with him forever!

you are supposed to love him! you have to!

and you thought you've seen the worst, you thought you reached the bottom of the iceberg. but you were so, so wrong. it had been 2 weeks since you learned the truth about leon. since then, you were able to find solace within an old friend, claire redfield. not only do you adore her, but the layer of protection she had given you when you complained about the clingy cop on your hip was just the cherry on top. without leon, these 14 days were the most peace you have felt in what feels like months. you didn't know how the man who acted like he needed your presence more than air felt about this sudden separation. and to be completely honest, you didn't really care.

now, with your arm hooked around claire's, you two walk home after a night out in raccoon city. you're repeating old inside jokes and clutching your chest in heaps of rib-straining laughter. everything is full of high-spirits until you notice a certain cop car sitting in the street. claire enters your estate first, guarding you protectively while you follow her footsteps. you find (you guessed it!) no other than leon kennedy rummaging through your belongings. and the look on leon's face when he sees you with someone else is nothing short of pure anguish, sheer betrayal. he is jealous — so much so that it practically suffocates the room. you've seen plenty of emotions expressed by leon and the consequences that followed, but you've never seen first-hand what jealousy may compel him to do. considering the pictures of your friends he used as target practice, you feel as though the outcome won't be any good.

claire breaks the silence, "you disgusting pig! i'm calling my brother down here and he's gonna kick your-" her roar of anger is cut off with a sharp groan.

leon stands, taser gun in hand, as the electrodes strike into claire's body. she then falls to the ground with a loud thump, her form convulsing from the electric shocks waving through her. rushing to her side, you attempt to help her. but, you then cave into yourself when leon walks over in three large strides. and you now realize he is absolutely terrifying when he is jealous. his voice drops to a low husk as he demands you tell him who the fuck this is, a major contrast to the bubbly-puppy you're grown familiar with. you are left flabbergasted and are unable to mutter even a syllable.

you aren't even granted a mere second to compose of yourself before leon pulls a knife, plunging it deep into claire's chest. a scream of pure terror erupts from your throat. you're painted red as he relentlessly stabs your best friend, curling yourself into a corner and hiding your face in your arms. through your tear-stained vision, you see the lifeless body of claire and leon standing above her, huffing with fury like some blood-thirsty creature. something in his gaze perceptibly softens when he sees you, so scared and feeble. and it shatters his heart. after all, leon would take every life on planet earth just to see your lips curl into a smile, even once more. but, nothing could have prepared you for the words that would then leave his mouth.

he turns his body cam on. "y/n l/n, you are under arrest for the murder of... whoever this was. you have the right to remain silent. anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law." you stare at leon entirely flabbergasted, but you're too exhausted to fight against him.

he bends down to you, light whispers of "you're ok, it wasn't your fault" and "i've got you, sweet angel" doing little to comfort you. with his gentle hands against you, leon proceeds to cuff you with the same softness you would use to handle a baby bird. and you let him take you away, because you are too caught up in looking at your best friend who was laughing with you just minutes ago now dead on the ground. you cry to yourself in the backseat of the cop car the whole way to the station.

by the time you get there, you are entirely in a state of shock. tears of dread stream down your cheeks, but your face is nothing short of emotionless. you are so caught up in your head, you don't even notice the whispers of other officers there. they gossip about how considering your track record, it's no wonder you'd end up here for good. a sharp glare from the man guiding you through the department is enough for them to shut their mouths. you're then brought into an interrogation room, with cameras off and no other presence besides you and this mad-man at your beck and call.

cuffed to a chair once again, leon locks the door behind him. he then drops to his knees and ties his arms around your waist, burying his head into you. it takes several seconds for reality to hit you, but you soon realize he is crying. and if you weren't restrained currently, you would've pushed him off and made him suffer a fate far worse than what claire endured. now, the two of you are sobbing together, but for entirely different reasons. you, full of grief over someone you love being murdered just moments ago. leon, full of agony over how the gleam of emotion he was so infatuated with left your eyes. all because of him.

you muster enough strength to plead to the blonde, your voice coming out through hoarse, slurred sniffles. but much to your dismay, your cries fall on deaf ears. if only leon had more morality than he did love for you.

"i'm so sorry, y/n, i just needed to hold you. even for just one last time” he picks his head up to look at you, face breaking out in a pitiful smile. “and i can't lose you. not again.” he grabs hold of your hands from behind your back and begins caressing the digits of your fingers. and the contrast between his smile and the crazed look in his eyes has you shuddering in apprehension.

"you're stuck with me to the end."

your eyes then flutter open to see a blinding white light; you begin to hear the quiet chant of a monitor beside you. where the hell am i? despite your current confusion, all you can think about is how you grieved for your best friend in the grimy cells of the RPD, how everyone turned into undead creatures just a week later, and how leon protected you from anything as small as a paper cut. you remember how several zombies overpowered him and how you took advantage of the opportunity, running like hell away and out of raccoon city. you remember the burning of your lungs, the rain on your skin, the hope of getting far, far away from this nightmare. you also remember the fear you felt when umbrella snatched you into their possession, to where you would soon forget everything that happened. including leon kennedy.

you're in the present now, as you can tell by the sheepskin jacket around your form and the hospital bed you're laid upon. it takes you too long to realize that you're safe, out of the hellhole that is los iluminados. looking down, you find a gun sitting by your hip (leon made the declaration that if you were to never wake up again, he wouldn't hesitate to end it all right then and there). you shift your train of sight to see leon at your bedside with his head in his hands while his entire body trembles with trepidation. the sight of this lovesick maniac at your side causes you to spring forward with a harsh gasp. his heartbeat skyrockets at the sudden occurrence. you're alive, and leon can't stop the tears of relief that fall from his eyes.

"hi, pretty... i'm here, you're safe now..." the smile on his face is borderline terrifying. his hands cup your face, practically clinging onto you like a lifeline.

"i remember... i remember everything..." the statement is entirely said to yourself, your gaze distant and not entirely there.

his eyebrows scrunch upwards, gaze softening (if it can even soften more than it already has). leon then pulls your face to his and molds his lips against yours aggressively, desperately. it isn't soft, sweet, or romantic in any sense. it is inexperienced, but overflowing with raw passion, need, and obsession. he only stops when the two are you are breathless and gasping for air. a dreamy sigh escapes leon's lips once he parts from you, gazing into your eyes as if you were something holy (which you are, obvi, but i digress). leon is so horrifically, irrevocably, disgustingly in love with you. and you can feel everything in his all-too overwhelming kiss.

he then engulfs you and melts into your arms like a noodle in boiling water. his light-headed, lovesick laughter fans against your neck. leon somehow pulls you impossibly closer to him, almost as if he were trying to morph the two of you together. it is too much; he is all you can feel, smell, touch. but, without a sliver of strength in your body, you are entirely vulnerable to him and his captivation.

"ashley... she didn't make it..." there’s a certain tone in leon's voice you can’t explain, but you shudder beneath it, anyway. he tells the information softly, but his voice is full of too much exhilaration to be normal. with these newfound memories, that dread returns to your stomach at the thought of what leon is capable of. what leon may have done to ashley while you were out cold.

through the abyssal darkness, your wish has been granted. you have now retrieved all lost memories.

and now, you know why you never were able to trust leon kennedy.

the end !! hehe, thanks for the fun ride babes.

HOWEVER……….. this is surely not the end of my resident evil stained brainrot. so i will not be continuing this series, but i will most certainly be pouring out everything in my RE-obsessed brain. only if u would like to see it, of course. if u do, pls send me some asks!! and thank u again !!!

[madame-fear]

My lovely lady wife,

I think we know what I’m about to request for. A little Aemond fic on what I told you because Aemond being possessive..🤭

Arguing over reader having a dance with Lucerys or Aegon, but then turns sweet after reader snaps at him, telling him that she’s devoted to him?

Pretty please? (I love you!!❤️)

*ೃ༄ 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐌𝐄 .ೃ࿐

★ amira speaks! : My sweet darling Vinca, an honour to receive your requests as always! ❤ Please enjoy this and hope it was what you expected. I was inspired by the dialogue you sent me on some of the dialogues in here 🤭 Ily sm honey !! 💕 — summary : [ — ✧ request ] — word count : 1.6k ꒰ა ✧ additional note ; title is based on the song “come to me” by björk. 💗

— pairing : jealous/possesive!aemond targaryen x reader — genre : a bit of arguing, but then turns into fluff.

“It was just one dance, Aemond!” your shouting echoed through the dimly lit halls, going after Aemond, behind of him.

Patience was a virtue that lately began to heavily hang from a thin string for the One Eyed Prince; and the arrival of his bastard nephews, the Velaryon boys, back again to King’s Landing wasn’t making things any easier for him... And mostly, for his usual possesiveness around you.

Not that the presence of both boys itself bothered him. Quite the contrary, his natural self around them was to tease and make them upset on purpose, constantly reminding them how everyone knew they were merely bastard sons; “Strong” boys, as he would refer to them. But the problem was, when the betrothal dinner had arrived.

While Helaena took the hand of the eldest Velaryon, Jacaerys, for a dance after she made a subtle remark on how her brother-husband Aegon ignored her, Lucerys stood up from his seat, and offered his own hand to you for a dance. Such act was merely out of the usual polite and gentleness that identified the future Lord of Driftmark, but Aemond couldn’t help but silently seethe with overwhelming jealousy at the sight of you giggling and dancing with Lucerys Velaryon.

Lucerys. His bastard nephew. The one that had made fun of him with a pig as a young boy when Aemond had not yet claimed Vhagar, and the same nephew that had taken out his eye. How could someone as himself so pridefully offer his hand out to you, out of all the people, right in front of his face? And what was worse, was that YOU had taken it, only to notoriously have fun with the young Velaryon bastard.

And that could only lead to you having to chase after him through the large halls of King’s Landing, shouting out his name for him to listen to what you had to say. His usual stoic face now shouted an expression of pure grimace, feeling as if he were to lose himself to a burdening sensation of posessiveness towards you.

Aemond couldn’t even bare when his brother Aegon was too drunk to the point he started flirting with you, or using sexual innuendos — but seeing you dance so gracefully with Lucerys, the nephew he despised wholeheartedly, was the least of things Aemond could possibly tolerate.

“Aemond!” you kept shouting, “Seven Hells, would you even care to listen to me?!” his steps had turned nearly into harsh stomping, feeling your own legs get tired from the heavy rushing towards him.

As you were nearly reaching him, trying to place your hand on his arm to catch his attention, the One Eyed prince abruptly stopped on his steps and turned around to face you. Out of surprise at his sudden actions, you made a few steps backwards.

“I don’t need to listen to anything.” he retorted, with a monotone, yet cold voice tone. The stare on his blue eye hinted a fiery jealousy that abruptly ignited on him, you crossed your arms tightly against your chest. “And most certainly, I don’t need to hear you talking about how you accepted the hand of my bastard nephew to dance with him right in front of me!” his voice raised its tone, notoriously sounding angrier by the minute.

You had to admit, you were both frustrated and surprised by his sudden outburst. While you knew Aemond could be rather overprotective of you — especially ever since you had taken care of him after the incident with his eye —, you had never seen him acting in such... A possesive manner. “To which, I remind you: he owes me his eye.”

Your lips were partly open, about to protest against his sayings, as your brows knitted in confusion at the way Aemond behaved towards the situation. “I was only being polite to him, Aemond!” you snapped at him, shouting louder. “What was supposed to do, turn him down right in front of everyone?!”

You understood that Lucerys was certainly trying to be as polite and gentle as his brother Jacaerys was with women, and you saw no issue with that. But apparently Aemond did.

“You should have, yes!” your hands both went to your face, immediatly letting your head fall against your palms, releasing a muffled frustrated huff at his answer. You then fluttered your eyes open, going back to face him. Your heart loudly pounded against your chest from the adrenaline of the situation, loudly arguing with one another; being loud enough as for your voices to echo around the halls.

“I can’t believe you,” you said, with your eyes furrowed. “That was literally the most attention I have ever paid to any of the Velaryon boys!” pointing your index finger at him, you continued. “And you are making such a fuss over that?” while his lips opened to speak against you, you rapidly interrupted him, feeling bold enough to confront him. How could Aemond be so oblivious to the way you were entirely devoted to him, and only him?

“It was one dance.” you remarked, lowering your quivering voice. “And while you may have lost an eye, Aemond, that does not mean you are blind.” hearing your words made his grimly jealous expressions turn into an intrigued one. You sighed, allowing the hand that was pointing at him with your finger to fall by your side in a swift manner.

“I only accepted the dance out of politeness, but did I kiss Lucerys, or anyone else? No, I have not.” you began remarking, feeling relieved that Aemond seemed to attentively listen to you without making too much of a fuss. “Did I fuck him, or anyone else? Yet again, I have not.” a soft huff spurred from your nose, looking at him in disbelief.

“Do I ever stroll with anyone else in the gardens, spending hours talking with one another, like I do with you? No, I don’t.” leisurely, his face softened, hearing how the tense atmosphere seemed to switch into a more tranquil one. “I have never read to anyone else in the gardens, except with you. I have never cheered for anyone else in their swordtraining, except with you.” you continued, trying to discreetly build the point to him.

“I could never spend hours comforting anyone else, like I comforted you when you lost your eye. I have never cared for anyone else like I genuinely care for you. I never even cared to fix my gaze on someone that isn’t you, Aemond.” the initial angry frustration softly washed away from you, even if you could still feel the thrill of it pumping through your veins.

Perhaps it was true. He could have overreacted just a little bit — more than extremely, actually — to the situation. But how could he not be possesive over you, when you had such remarking, exceptional qualities that any man could possibly long for in a woman?

It had always been you the one braiding his hair playfully, it was you the one who comforted him whenever he felt angry, or outraged... It was you the one who always cheered and clapped for him when his skills in swordtraining became better each time; occasionally tossing Ser Criston’s own sword to the ground merely to impress you, and hear you root for him proudly.

Walking a few steps towards him, you lifted your sight to his eye, staring profoundly at him. A soft, quivering sigh escaped from him. Faintly, a rosy tint crept on his pale skin gently. “How can you not realise, it is you the one I truly adore? The one I am most devoted to?” the sound of your voice nearly made him melt, especially when you raised your hand to his cheek, and tenderly stroked it with the tip of your thumb.

A scoff spurred from his rosy lips, with a little sheepish grin tuggig at the corner of his lips. He was used to being possesive and jealous over you, but those feelings of adoration — now mutually felt — were always kept to himself. The One Eyed Prince was absolutely clueless on how to express his feelings towards you, to which, he preferred that saying nothing at all would be much better.

“I should have known it sooner.” he muttered, sounding a slight tone of disbelief at himself. It was just too obvious for someone such as himself to not realise. You scoffed, smiling at him as you shook your head lightly. A certain pride filled you, as your skin could feel his own heated cheek from the fluster under your touch.

Without hesitating, you tiptoed as his presence towered your own, and your free hand went to cup his other cheek. Awkwardly — yet a bit needily — his arms went around your waist sweetly, pulling you closer to his body. Fluttering your eyes shut, your lips locked against his own. And Gods, your lips were as sweet-tasting as he had always imagined they would be.

You kept your lips pressed against his own for what seemed an eternity, despite it being a minute, almost. His way of kissing you was soft, yet, it became a bit more deep and intense as the time progressed. Reluctantly, you had to pull away from him, despite him trying to inconsciously encourage you to keep going.

As you pulled apart, with your hands on his cheeks, a prideful grin was seen on his lips. Perhaps being jealous and possesive had its own perks, after all. A soft chuckle spurred from your lips gracefully, moving your hand lower to caress his jaw with the tip of your finger. There was something sweet in seeing how he could act just like a fiery, possesive dragon, but turn into an endearing puppy that melted at your touch. At that touch of yours he so longed.

“But now you know,” you whispered, caressing his skin delicately. “And I don’t care if I have to spell it out for you.”

♡ taglist : ♡

@keiratonks @kyuupidwrites @tchatso zzz000eee @bellarkeselection @visenya-reigned @maria699669 @hopelesswritergall @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @dragon430 @sweethoneyblossom1 @jamiemydeer @snowprincesa1

[justanerdy-gal]

An Ascendant’s Love

-> pairing: A!Astarion x Vampire!Tav -> content: fluff, emotional, pro Ascendant Astarion, vampire bride Tav, sfw -> summary: An ascended vampire’s love is obsessive. An ascended vampire’s love is possessive. But it is no less true. In fact, there was perhaps no truer love than that of the Ascendant.

-> notes: My firm belief has always been that Astarion’s love for Tav becomes so intense after his ascension that he does not know how to contain it. That he would go from the heavens to the hells to protect them, cherish them, and keep them by his side. To this end, I wanted to write a fic that briefly expositions how I think (headcanon ofcourse) Astarion feels about his love for Tav after he has ascended. Those who think ascended Astarion is abusive may not like this fic 🙈 But I hope you all enjoy it anyways ❤️

————

An ascended vampire’s love is obsessive. An ascended vampire’s love is possessive. But it is no less true. In fact, there was perhaps no truer love than that of the Ascendant.

Astarion ponders as he watches his love staring out the window of the palace, her skin as radiant as a pearl. As radiant as the day he turned her. He leans against the wall across the hall, enamoured by his consort’s beauty. She was wearing a ballgown he had specifically designed for her. He had made sure to spare no expense - much to Tav's hesitation early on. However, upon seeing Astarion's heady stare when she first put the gown on, she had decided that maybe it wasn't so bad.

It was hard for him to explain the feelings that turmoil through him when he stares at his beloved. Everything had changed when he chose to complete the Ascension ritual - for himself, not for his late master. Every sense, every feeling he had, had grown much more intense. It was almost too much for him to absorb at first. His edges had dulled over the past 2 centuries of slavery that he endured - and to just feel so much at one time - it was a feeling quite overwhelming.

And then there was her. His companion. His friend. His lover in a way that no past lover had ever been for… as long as he could remember.

Oh yes, he loved her before the Ascension - the first real connection he'd ever made in his life. The one who broke through all the walls he had built over the past two centuries, as if they were made with nothing but cardboard.

But it was as if his feelings before his Ascension were… minute. Puny.

They could not capture or describe the essence of what his little love truly meant to him. They could not do it justice.

She was the one who had saved him from his slaver - who had gone through thick and thin to ensure his happiness. Who never pushed him - not with intimacy, not with feelings. She let him make his own decisions. For the first time in his life.

When he first ascended, he had wanted to devour her whole. To devote himself to her, and have her devote herself entirely to him. Anyone else would have been terrified - scared off by the show of such intensity, such need for possession, a need to hold them close - in fear that in the blink of an eye, they would fly away, leaving a gaping hole in his undead heart.

But not her. Not the one who had opened her mind to him - allowed him to see himself for the first time. Who was locked by his side as he carved those wretched runes on the bastard’s back. It was an adjustment at first, but even without the tadpole in their brains, it's like they could read eachother's minds. It was not an intensity born out of control - Astarion had many things he could control, he did not need to control her. He did not ... want to control her.

It was a shock to him as well, to be frank. He was unsure how everything would play out after he had ascended - during that brief amount of time between his Ascension and before he had turned her. His mind was a whirlwind - the world moving too slow, his senses moving too fast. The strength of 7000 souls coursed through him, and his need to dominate was palpable. Intense.

But somehow....somehow she had seen through all that. Through the lust for control, for power, for revenge. She grounded him. Brought him back down to earth.

There was no doubt in his mind that he would have turned to the worst without her there. There was so much he was capable of - and the natural urges he had did not point towards good. But when he held her - when she melted into his embrace - he was reminded of that sliver of goodness, that had been the key to unlocking the world. He remembered their good deeds along their travels, the way he would fuss and fight, but would then softly smile as he saw the ones he helped thank Tav with joyous praises. He was enraptured by it. It made him wonder if maybe it wasn't so bad .... if he could make that smile appear on his love's face all the time.

It would take time, he found. As he settled into his new body, his new powers, his urges settled too. He found it easier to make good decisions over bad. His overwhelming desire calmed to an eternal adoration. Whenever he strayed in his natural urge to dominate, just a little nudge from his sweet was all it took to guide him back to the right path. Except for perhaps in their bed. It seems she rather enjoyed him dominating in that respect.

Time would never be enough for him to express his adoration of her. He longed to cherish her every moment of everyday. Hold her close as she blushed while he dragged his hand over her curves. To feel her shivers as he fed upon her blood. To lose himself in her lips, to ravish her with his touch, to feel her against him as she unravelled beneath him every night. To never let her go. He would never let her go.

He wanted to give her everything. He made her his bride. He would not allow her to suffer the torture he did. He would make sure she would want for nothing. Her every desire fulfilled. Her every need met. As long as she stayed by his side, he would give her the entire world.

He was now free to love her without fear - without fear of Cazador, without fear of the Absolute, without fear that he did not have the power to protect her. For the first time… he was without fear.

“What’s the matter, Astarion?” Astarion was taken out of his thoughts to see that Tav had walked over to him, her head quirked to the side as she wondered about what was bouncing through her love's mind at the moment.

“Nothing, my little love,” Astarion said, smiling as he pulled Tav in for a kiss. Tav was caught off guard by the intensity with which his lips met hers, almost set off balance as he crushed her body to him. He wrapped one arm around her waist, another lifting into in her hair, pulling her head in closer as he deepened the kiss for a moment, before he allowed her to breathe again.

“If that’s nothing, then nothing might have to happen more often,” Tav giggled, a blush creeping upon her face. Astarion face lit up with a grin at the twinkling sound of her laugh. He held her tight to him as he stared out into the setting sun.

You have given me everything.... thank you.

————

My AO3 and Twitter 🙂

MASTERLIST

Taglist:

@volturisecretary @myaastarionshenanegans @leatherboundriot

[johnwickb1tsch]

Tex Johnson x Witness!Reader x John Wick Imagine Part 2 by @treedaddymcpuffpuff @sweetwolfcupcake and @johnwickb1tsch GIF credits to @scarlettspectra ❤ and Illustration credit to @boredth ❤️

Original Post Part 1

Warnings: So many dead doves! Don't eat! Unless you like dead doves, that is. Violence, sexual content, blood, murder, kidnapping, possessive behavior, yandere sh!t...it's all here! Please take care! 😘

Johnwickb1tsch:

As it turns out, faking your death involves taking some very gnarly photos with copious amounts of blood spread about. They will be released to the dark web, as well as the Underground network. John and Tex will get paid for a job well done. The FBI will receive the intelligence in due time, mixed with finding your blood and hair and skin at the scene. And once they off Dmitri, the man you witnessed killing the owner of the restaurant you used to work at, there will be no one left to care but Agent Bradford.

If he survives his wounds.

John and Tex are still perplexed about that one. He must be a tough bastard, but getting shot up even with a vest on would slow anyone down. Not to mention his blown out knee…

When next you wake you know you’re in a different location, even through your blindfold. Your hands are bound again, this time over your head. It feels like you’re laying on a soft surface, a mattress, and not a cheap one. You debate the merits of pretending to still be knocked out, or screaming your head off for help, when you hear, “Looks like sleepin’ beauty’s awake.”

From your other side there is silence, but you feel gentle fingers touching a lock of your hair. It sends a forbidden trill of desire through you, straight to your loins, and for the umpteenth time you wonder what exactly is wrong with you that you don’t 100 percent hate this the way you should.   

Fuck.

“Please let me go.” Your words are raspy; your throat is dry as a desert. How long have you been out?

“We have to talk about that,” says Tex. “See, there’s a whole lot gonna be ridin’ on you.” You can just hear his shit-eating grin for his double-entendre.  

“You’re a pig.”

“Aww, don’t be shy, darlin’. What did you think we were goin; to get up to when you got in my car? Playin’ pinochle? You wanted me, and I reckon’ that hasn’t changed.” You feel a rough hand sliding up your thigh that must belong to him. You try to buck him off, and find your legs aren’t bound. You try to kick towards the sound of his voice, but your limbs are heavy, and he catches your ankle.

“Boy howdy, someone’s flexible!”

He has you in an iron grip, and you give a frustrated scream.

“Don’t hurt her,” says the other one, in that quietly forbidding tone.

“Was I supposed to let her kick my head off?”

“Fine by me.”

Tex snorts in response, squeezing your leg in his big hand, just to give you a taste. You feel your bones creak beneath his grip.

Sweetwolfcupcake:

The whimper escapes you before you realise it. He doesn't hurt you yet, but the looming threat could not have been more explicit.

You utterly hate the helplessness, and the feeling of being trapped like this does not help.

"Tex..." The icy warning in his tone makes you gulp down and suppress another whimper.

"Loosen-up John, I'm not hurtin' her." You feel tge 'yet' is silent but hanging in the air.

Right, the other man's name- John. It slipped your mind before.

You feel the bed shift beside you before the warmth of the other body goes missing. You strain your ears, trying to guess what he is doing. When something touches your lips, you jump slightly, only to feel a large hand on your shoulder-- gentle and warm.

"It's just a straw. Try sipping through it."

John's voice is reassuring, soft even-- a stark contrast to the tone he used on Tex, whose fingers are still wrapped around your ankle. Much to your relief, John unlocks your hands from above your head, letting them rest on your front. You are disappointed when you realise that they're still bound, though. He helps you sit up a bit, adjusting pillows behind, before you feel the straw poking on your lips again. Taking the hint, you wrap your lips around it and sip the water eagerly.

You were parched, you realise.

Treedaddymcpuffpuff:

They take the blindfold off, and the world swims for a bit. You can barely keep your eyes open and your voice is soggy and slow. Once you come up for air, you realize you’re laying in a big bed with some kind of soft restraint holding your wrists together. Tex is sitting with you - he’s got your trouble making legs pulled into his lap, securing them.

You don’t bother fighting again, mostly because it feels like your arms and legs are made of sandbags. Everything is dull, blunted. Feels like you’re deep inside the dark, squishy confines of your brain, unable to break surface. You watch as John checks his phone, then looks up.

“Dimitri wants to meet.” It’s like he teleports out of the chair, gives you whiplash. He’s fast. He discards his shirt and jacket, replaces the bulletproof vest and gives you a perfect view of a scarred, tattooed, broad torso.

(Gif by @scarlettspectra ❤️❤️!)

“Close your jaw, honey, or else you’ll start drooling.” This from Tex, who you try to kill with a glare. He seems highly amused. You look away from John quickly, not even realizing you were starring so blatantly. Your body fills with different types of heat, ones that are much harder to hide the effects of under the heavy drugs clouding your judgement.

“He wants both of us?” Tex asks.

(Gif by @scarlettspectra ❤️❤️!)

“Tex, c’mon.” John drapes his suit jacket back on, pulls his Glock and does something with one big hand that makes it click and shift - you're starring again.

“Yeah.”

Tex whistles low, brushes some sticky hair off your neck and makes you flinch. “Dimitri’s grown some big cojones.”

John throws a spare vest at him. “Get. Ready.”

Tex rolls his eyes. “You can handle it, Wick. Lemme stay here and give this sore little girl a massage.” He knuckles into your calves, and you groan louder than you want to, trying to pull away unsuccessfully. It feels way too nice, because he’s right, you are sore.

“Tex.”

Your masseuse complies, makes a show for you - chest, muscles, masculine energy overly potent. You really do try not to watch, but it’s so hard, especially while Tex has that shit eating grin plastered to his face. And then there’s the weapon work, too. You’re not a fan of guns or knives, but seeing them handle and prep them, tuck them into straps and belts, it invokes carnal desire.

They’re going to leave you here again, alone, and you hate that, but what else can you do besides watch them go with a pathetic, doped up look on your face?

Sweetwolfcupcake:

They leave with the bedroom door locked, windows shut, and the room quiet.

Bizzarely enough, their absence bothers you. A strange silence hangs heavy in the air. You realise it eventually that it is the aftermath of the rollercoaster day.

In the silence, you finally break. Sobs break out with tears and snoot. You are really in a mess that is deep enough to have your life on the rocks, finely balanced by the intention of the two men who simply plucked you out of your life, your potential safety net and...That is tge scary part-- you are still unsure of their intentions.

You know that the smartest thing you can do is to adapt to the situation, but with the great powerr imbalance and unpredictable circumstances, every breath seems to be a nearing step towards death. You are not an optimist - never were - you cannot say that you are absolutely in love with your life, but you want to live. Your life before the mess was no fairytake-- an average life of an average girl, average problems that weighed you down. Now, when you think of it, you might even really fall in love with your average monotonous life only if you manage to somehow get out of the situation.

You try the windows and doors, although you know in your heart that they're no amateurs. They are seasoned professionals-- they took on Bradford with ease, the same Bradford you have seen handling four people with ease.

Bradford...

He is yiyr last hope. You are convinced that sooner or later, you will go crazy here. Who finds their captives attractive?

Embarrassed, you shut your eyes and sigh. You still feel pretty fuzzy, and the bed indeed is comfortable. With a defeated walk back to the bed, you slip under the covers, sleep is your only escape route for now.

Johnwickb1tsch:

It feels like an eternity, by the time they finally return. They look fierce but weary, exhausted from a long night, but their eyes are bright from the excitement of a battle. They both have splatters of blood on their faces—you doubt much, if any of it, belongs to them.

With wide eyes you watch as they start to shed their gear: the cluster of guns and knives that accumulates on the table is dizzying. If you could just get to one of those weapons…

Tex follows your gaze with a devilish smile. “Know how to use one of these, darlin’?”

“Aw. Is that any way to talk to the man who just removed the gangster boss who wants you dead from the face of the earth?”

(Thank u @boredth ❤️!!!)

“It can’t be that hard, if you manage it,” you snipe, straining against your wrist restraint for the umpteenth time that night. Or is it morning? You just don’t know.

This does perk your interest a little, though you’re almost loathe to show it. “You…killed Dmitri?” If it’s true…good riddance, then.

“Boy howdy. In fact, your buddy John here went a little trigger happy, and I’m pretty sure he wiped out the whole goddamn bratva. Everyone that was there, anyway.”

You blink, looking to the man in the dark suit for confirmation. He, however, is looking at something fixedly on his gun, not ready to crow his own praises.

Your heart is in your throat as you dare ask, “What…does this mean?”

However, Tex grins at you like a wolf to a sheep, and you do not feel safe, at all.

(By @boredth ❤️❤️❤️!)

“It means you should be safe.” John’s voice is deep, matter of fact. You get the sense that he really doesn’t use his voice much.

“Does that mean…you’ll let me go?”

“Eventually,” Tex answers. “If you’re a good girl.”

You swallow hard at hearing that.

John doesn’t contradict his partner, his intense dark gaze fixed on you. “You can have my half of the bounty.”

Tex’s head whips towards John. “You’re gonna give her 2.5 million dollars?”

“To start her new life,” John says, still looking at you. “In a different country, if she’s smart.”

Tex whistles at hearing that. “I like you, honey, but I’m not sure I like you that much.”

You, however, see exactly what John is doing. He’s giving you a reason to live. A reason to obey, a light at the end of the tunnel. The promise that if you can endure whatever they have in mind…you’ll not just get your life back. You’ll get…something better than your blue-collar working-class self could have ever dreamed of.

If only it didn’t make you feel like such a whore.

Treedaddymcpuffpuff:

You feel pretty stupid, to be honest. So, so stupid for fighting them. But, if they would have just told you - took the time to really explain what was going on - no, you’re pretty sure you’re the asshole here. Maybe?

You’re distracted - a frequent event with these two around. And now they’re covered in blood and grime and sweat from protecting you and the vague, whorish thought crosses your mind that maybe they wouldn’t mind getting their cocks sucked after that long, hard night of being your heroes.

Still, that’s exactly what you feel like - a pathetic whore. And you want to bury your head into a pillow and smother yourself. You look, eyes set and determined, at John. “You don’t have to do that.”

For the first time, a little grin cracks the side of his mouth. He’s devastatingly handsome, this deadly man. “I won’t take no for an answer.” Is his simple reply.

Tex shakes his head, chuckles, cuts in to the intense eye contact John is pinning you to the bed with. “Gonna have to stay with us - one of us - for a while though, darlin’. We gotta make sure that pretty neck is off the chopping block.”

That sounds like a recipe for disaster. Sounds like your libido is about to get a lesson it won’t soon forget. Sounds like you’re gonna be constantly on more edge than one the entire time you have to be with them. Sounds like you’re gonna have your hand in your panties a couple times a day and still come out unsatisfied.

Your voice - scratchy and timid. “Do I have to stay tied up the entire time?”

John swipes a knife off the table, walks over to you, grabs your restraints, tugging your arms up and slicing through the leather holding them together. Your heavy limbs go to fall, but he catches both your wrists in one one - oh, his pretty, stocky hands really are big - then lowers them to your lap gently and tucks the blade back into his waist. “Are you hungry?” That’s it? No threats? No intimidation? Why are you actually a little disappointed? But , god, your stomach comes to life at the mention of a meal. Must have been a while since you’ve eaten. You answer him honestly, “yes.”

Johnwickb1tsch:

What a devil’s bargain.

You think it bold of John, to untie your hands, with all those weapons at hand.

But then, what would you really do with them, against these two trained killers?

The smarter path to survival lays down a darker road, and goddammit if as you look between them, you don’t feel some small thrill of anticipation.  

John has gone off somewhere to get you food, leaving you alone with Tex, who has stripped off his bloody shirt, his flak vest, then his undershirt. You’re not shy about staring this time, taking in the breadth of his bare chest and his toned arms. What’s the point in being shy now?

Tex smirks at your blatant appraisal of his powerful body. “My eyes are up here, darlin’.”

You huff and look away, crossing your arms. “You are such an asshole.”  Your belly has begun to rumble, audibly now. It’s a little embarrassing.

However, a second later he has crossed the room to you, claiming your attention again with a calloused hand on your jaw, directing your eyes up to him. He doesn’t say anything, just pins you with those dark orbs, and like stumbling on a predator in the woods you dare not try to look away. Maybe he hides it with his aw shucks demeanor, but this man is just as dangerous as the other, and a cold chill runs down your spine as you wonder if he’s about to prove it to you.

You couldn’t be more relieved, than when John comes through the door with a paper plate of food and a plastic cup of what you hope is water.

Tex smiles down at you, the warmth returning to his eyes. He pats your cheek just this side of too hard, making you wince. You can tell John doesn’t like it, that Tex touches you this way, but it’s not quite enough to yell at him for.

You wonder how these two extremely dangerous men, who for all the world seem like opposites of each other, are going to manage this situation without killing each other.

Could you get so lucky?

Sweetwolfcupcake:

"You have somethin' in your head 'bout the road ahead?"

While you busy yourself with the meal, you keep your ears on the discussion regarding the road ahead. Keeping your eyes on the plate, you try to appear as disinterested as possible-- in reality, though, you want to know everything they have planned. John has been exceptionally kind to you, Tex is an asshole but has been tolerable until now. They promised to let you go and allow you to start anew. But you can't trust them just yet...

There's silence from John's end before you feel his eyes on you. You try to resist the urge to look up, but your eyes just have to glance up before you can force them to remain on the plate. They lock with John's unreadable gaze immediately, and you blink. It's unfair - you feel like he is reading into your soul while you are not able to decipher a single thought that runs in his mind. Even now, he appears to be an indecipherable abyss to you-- you know it's deep and dark, but find no hint of what is in there. You feel that there is a lot in there, though.

It is John who breaks eye contact, turning to Tex.

"Let's talk over a drink."

He offers, and with that, they both are out of the room. They shut the door behind, and you hear the distinct click of the lock.

What are they planning?

Treedaddymcpuffpuff:

Why do they keep leaving you? It’s starting to get really, really annoying. However, while they’re gone, it gives you a chance to take a shower and get cleaned up a little bit. This placed is obviously lived in. The sheets have a faint smell of some woodsy cologne and laundry soap and sweat, the shower has half empty shampoo and soap bottles, the counter has scattered, used toiletries.

Your old clothes are covered in dirt, and probably minuscule flecks of blood and other gross body fluids, so you turn your nose up at them and dig through the closet instead. T-shirts, jeans, boxers - men’s clothing. At least it’s clean and it smells good. You pull on a pair of plain grey boxers and then a black, draping T-shirt, feeling kind of like you’re wearing your dads clothes like when you were six years old and playing dress up.

A pair of black, thick socks completes your look. You’re comfortable, now, to go around the room and stretch a little bit. You still kind of feel too jiggly to properly function, but some back cracking and shoulder rolling doesn’t take too much out of you.

They locked the weapons away in a dresser by the closet, went out still covered in blood. Bold move. Cocky. Daring anyone to say something to them at this very moment, probably.

But, they’re back faster than you think they will be. Outside the door. Loud. Tex is at twice his usual volume, hooting and hollering. “I really do think you’re a bad motherfucker.”

John answers, something lighter perking his usually monotone voice. “Not so bad yourself, Tex.”

They’re getting along it seems, which you’re not sure is good for you. The door unlocks, clicks open, and you can immediately tell that Tex is drunk. He’s boisterous, holding John by the shoulders, laughing, face reddened, and - the biggest tell - he’s got an open whiskey bottle in one hand.

John is smiling, shaking his head, running a hand through his hair. His face is a bit mottled, too. Are they both drunk? Your annoyance spikes. They could have at least offered you some after the shit you’ve gone through.

You perch on the bed, glaring at them. You get more than you bargained for when they both look at you. Their eyes do the same thing in unison - narrow and blow, go hungry and honed. The only difference in the way they stare at you is Tex’s lopsided grin. You feel like quarry again, and it makes you cross your arms and fold your legs into yourself.

Tex leans into John’s ear, voice low and almost taunting. “Those your clothes, Johnny?”

John keeps his eyes right on you. “Yeah.”

Johnwickb1tsch:

"Hey, who said you could wear Johnny's clothes?" banters Tex, approaching you with a swinging gait, the bottle of Jack Daniels in his hand.

You glance to John, who is watching your interaction interestedly, but makes no move to intervene.

"I said," you answer with narrowed eyes, tracking the motion of the bottle. It could be a weapon, or a gesture of friendship, all depending on the context. When Tex extends it to you in offering, you're a little relieved. And, a little thirsty, truth be told. Who knows if its a good idea, mixing alcohol and whatever drug they gave you earlier, but...you're being held captive by two dangerous mafia assassins. You need something to take off the edge.

You reach for the bottle, and almost grasp it, but Tex pulls back at the last second. "Make you a trade, honey."

"Imagine that."

"You can have a drink, if you take somethin' off."

Of course.

Cheekily, you start with your big black socks, throwing them at Tex one after the other.

John smirks as Tex play scowls, but true to his word he hands you the bottle. You take a pull--and immediately wince. Whiskey is such a foul spirit, as spirits go.

Tex chuckles. "Need it in a silver cup with a mint sprig, baby girl?"

A mint julep does sound pretty fucking good about now. If only he was serious.

"I'll live." You reach for the bottle again, but he holds it over your head.

"Nuh uh. It'll cost you more clothing."

In the back of your head, you almost find it interesting, how he engages your complicity in this cat and mouse game.

"Two socks, two drinks. Pay up, cowboy."

He tries to give you a hard look for that, but his eyes glitter with mirth.

"Fair's fair, Tex," nudges John, and Tex just gives a theatrical sigh, extending the bottle again.

"Diabolical woman, drinkin all my hooch."

You salute him with the bottle before taking another pull, longer this time. It should help you stomach...whatever it is they're about to do to you.

You hand back the bottle, and you wait. So does Tex, staring at you expectantly. You lift an eyebrow in a silent question of what?

He extends the bottle again with a pout of full lips that should be absolutely ridiculous on a grown ass man, but somehow is actually cute?

"I'm comfortable, thank you."

John snorts with laughter behind Tex, earning a glare.

"You gonna watch, or you gonna help? I swear, this is the damndest woman I've ever met..."

When John makes his way towards you, his steps silent and graceful as a leopard on the prowl--your heart sinks a little.

When he reaches for you, you recoil, but there's no escape. There's just his hand in your hair, holding you fast, and then his lips on yours.

The latter takes you by surprise, really.

His lips are soft, but exacting. He claims your mouth in a sweeping kiss, and when he pulls away he leaves you breathless, like he has utterly snogged you senseless. When fingers clasp the hem of your shirt, pulling upwards, it doesn't even occur to you to fight, until its halfway over your head.

Suddenly you are bare from the waist up, and you cant help but give a little scream, your hands flying to cover yourself.

The whisky is definitely not helping yet, and you begin to tremble incontrollably.

"Aw, I think she's cold, Johnny boy."

John reaches out to soothe you, petting your hair. "You're beautiful," he tells you.

You don't understand how his look can be soft, yet predatory, all at the same time.

"Ain't he a gentleman?" drawls Tex with a roll of eyes, taking another pull off his bottle.

Sweetwolfcupcake:

"Fuck off!"

That is your first response as you reach to snatch back the shirt. Despite getting a hold on it, John does not let go.

"Give it back to me!" You grit out--- the situation is suddenly not playful anymore.

Your gut has been right about John all along, you realise, as you glare back at him. There is a glint of cruel amusement in his eyes that has you making an effort to suppress tears. You hate being powerless, vulnerable, exposed.

In this situation, unfortunately, you are all three.

"How about a deal---"

"No! C'mon! It was gettin' fun." Tex groans earning a glare from you, which he returns with a hungry gaze.

"How about a deal..." John continues.

Your eyes return to the man who still has an iron hold on your (his) shirt. Your arms covering your modesty turn tighter around yourself as you narrow your eyes at him.

"I let you have this shirt, and you sleep with one of us."

"Just sleeping, right?"

John smirked, "Sleeping."

That does not sound very reassuring.

You wanted to demand that he promise, but looking at your position, you realise that you have no upper hand here. The power imbalance is glaring at you in he form of your naked upper half.

"We'll take rounds."

Tex spoke, his heavy hand splayed on your lower back, sliding along your spine, only to leave trails of goosebumps. You somehow contain yourself from arching your back. The tingles that arise are not helpful either.

"Y--you meant every night?" Your surprised gaze meets John's amused one as he nods.

"I'm not doing this every night."

You hiss out before you think and regret it immediately as the part of the shirt on your hold is snatched away by John, you wish to reach out, but you can't and you are almost certain that you see a flash of disappointment in John's eyes when you do not move your arms.

"Forget the shirt then." Tex chuckles out from behind you as his palm slides around your waist and rests on your bare stomach. The implication is clear and you gulp.

Not just gulp, you gulp down your pride and take a deep breath.

"Fine." You grit out.

You eye the shirt in John's hold, expecting him to give it back to you. But he keeps it out of reach.

"Take it."

Bastard!

"Not funny, John, give me the shirt."

"I won't move it away, I promise." Despite how gentle he sounds, his malicious intent is no longer hidden.

"Reach out and take it."

Tex sounds much closer, the smell of whiskey now prominent as his breath tickles your neck. His hold on you tightens, preventing you from moving your body forward.

No, you were wrong. They are anything but good.

At this moment, you sure wish for Bradford to kick their asses-- which are nice to look at--- Wait!

What the hell is wrong with you?

Adjusting one arm to cover yourself properly, you reach out for the t-shirt, and as promised, John makes no move to snatched it away again. His heavy gaze, though, flicks down for a moment before his eyes meet yours once more. This time, they have in them a heavy heat that burns through you. It's the kind of burn that a woman wishes to see in her man's eyes, and it would have been flattering and swoon-worthy if not for the situation you are in. Half-naked, trapped between two very dangerous, very handsome, but morally dark men.

You feel the heat on your cheeks and neck as you try to slip back the shirt. With a disappointed sigh, Tex removes his hold, and you heave a sigh of relief while quickly slipping your shirt back on.

Treedaddymcpuffpuff:

You have this strange, awful feeling that your captor-saviors have made some kind of bet or deal of their own - one that you have been blindly excluded from. You go from being thankful to hating them again. It’s giving you whiplash.

Tex yawns, and bombs down on the bed behind you, making you yelp and jump. “Speaking of sleeping, I’m exhausted.”

“Thought I was first?” John doesn’t sound humored. It reminds you of the fact that he’s drunk, that little pout in his voice like he’s disappointed. So, they did plan this, then. Angry fire blazes your insides.

“How bout we let y/n decide who’s first,” Tex reasons, never taking his hooded eyes off you - never dropping that sharp, horrifying, infuriating, promising grin from his mouth. He takes another chug of whiskey.

They both look at you expectantly, and you have never felt tinier. A fly staring at two huge spiders. You try to glare back, maybe keep some of your self esteem intact.

“Well?” John asks, tipping his head at you.

You’re so tired of playing these stupid little games with them. You’re so tired of being the rat in their maze. You’re so tired of hiding and running and lying belly up. You fix John with a hard gaze - for some reason, it’s much, much harder to do that with him than with Tex - and say, “I don’t want to sleep with either of you. Fucking creeps.” You get off the bed, stand up, hands on your hips, expecting Tex to look surprised instead of filled with gleeful delight - to your dismay, his smile is wider as he watches this adorable attempt at dominance.

“And if you touch me again, I’ll do worse than bite you.” You eye John’s gnarly, bruised hand, trying not to feel bad about it. Trying not to think with your vagina anymore. She’s still there though, tugging at you, a little thrill tensing her up - the reward for your bold behavior.

John’s on you, hand on your throat - not pushing or squeezing, just resting there. He bullies you back. You try to hit him, but he swats your hand away like it’s a stray hair tickling his face. When he presses you into the wall, you’re terrified - shaking, trifling, owl eyed. You expect him to be scowling at you - you wish he was scowling at you - but his grin mirrors Tex’s. That grin could send a pack of wolves running tail between legs.

“It’s okay, pretty girl,” he coos, soothing voice such sharp contrast to the way he handles you and the hellish look on his face. It actually helps your nerves, quells some of that tremble originating from primal fear. “You’re okay.”

You press your palms up against the wall and they slip down, drenched with cold sweat. john has taken up your orbit entirely, so you’re shocked to see Tex suddenly at his side, helping him cage you against the wall.

“You’re okay,” John says again, titling your chin back to only him. For some reason, a part of you believes him - probably your stupid fucking vagina again.

“Why?” You ask, voice cracked and small, all your valiance gone.

“Atonement,” Tex drawls.

[navybrat817]

" Scraping their teeth over your neck to have a shiver of arousal run down your spine. "

With Bucky. 🥺

This probably didn't go the way anyone wants, nonnie, and I'm sorry!

Give Me a Name

Pairing: Mob!Bucky Barnes x Agent!Female Reader Summary: Someone put their hands on you and Bucky can't let it go. Word Count: Over 1.1k Warnings: Tension, threat of violence (not against reader), very minor injury, pet names, possessive behavior, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: Because who doesn't want a mob boss obsessed with them? ❤️ Edit by the talented @nixakimbo. Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Today was a not-so-friendly reminder that mistakes in your job weren’t so easy to fix. You had been in pursuit of a target for weeks and finally managed to catch him. The rookie agent, however, didn’t secure the cuffs and the bastard managed to get a hard hit in when he broke free. The dizziness from the blow was enough to let him get away.

The rookie went after him, but you knew he wouldn’t catch him. You’d have to start all over with tracking him and you didn’t even get a chance to go home to lick your wounds. Not when Bucky’s men showed up and put you in a car.

You should’ve known they were close by.

“I can walk!” You argued minutes later when they brought you to the Barnes mansion. The mob boss had a few homes, but this one had been in the family for years. He had invited you here before, but never took you by force.

Until today.

The men carefully arranged you on a leather sofa in the den before one of them went to get their boss. He hadn’t left the room before the door flew open, the very man he went to find standing there with a look thunderous enough to kill. He snatched something out of one of his soldier’s hands before he went to you, no one daring to speak a word.

You held your breath as you glanced at Bucky. He had the sleeves of his black shirt rolled up as he assessed you, the veins in his arms popped out as he clenched his fists. He was built like a soldier with his massive frame, his life story told in the tattoos and scars that adorned his covered skin. The notorious crime lord more than earned his reputation and he promised he’d tell you his story himself one day.

Today wouldn’t be that day.

He brushed some of his long hair from his eyes before crouching down beside you. He didn’t take his eyes off you as he dabbed at your cheek with the cloth. He stopped when you winced, but you gave him a small smile to let him know he could continue. You didn’t expect tenderness from such a rough man, but you were different to him, weren’t you? You had been since the two of you crossed paths some time ago. Why?

What made you so special?

“Who did this to you?” He asked in a low voice. You could hear that he tried to keep the raging storm inside of him, but his icy eyes showed you everything. The growing fury was bound to come out. Who would he destroy in his path to sate the beast?

“Bucky. I’m fine,” you croaked as you tried to sit up more, but he stopped you from moving. “The guy got lucky and it isn’t anything I haven’t faced before. Just let me get back to work,” you said.

You noticed most of the men nearby avoided eye contact when you looked around. They had every reason to be afraid. James Buchanan Barnes was downright terrifying when crossed.

And crossing you was a worse offense in his eyes.

“Give me a name,” Bucky demanded, though he didn't raise his voice. “Tell me his fucking name so I can take care of it.”

“I can’t,” you whispered. If you did, he’d kill him. No, he’d torture him first. Likely for days on end before he begged for death. And you needed him alive.

That was your job.

Yet, you could never find it in yourself to bring Bucky in.

“Don’t make me shoot you.”

You froze at the cold tone before you realized Bucky didn’t direct that statement at you. One of his men standing feet away turned his head to the side because he got caught staring. You should’ve known better. Whatever cat and mouse game you and the mob boss were playing, it was for him to catch you in his trap, but never hurt you.

Not when he wanted to keep you.

“I’m sorry, boss,” the man promised, his tone wavering when Bucky reached for one of his pistols. “I-”

“‘Cause I’ll do it in a heartbeat and never look back if you glance at her again,” he promised. He was a man of his word. “Leave us. All of you. Now.”

“Bucky, it’s okay,” you assured him as they filed out. The men were dangerous, but you weren’t about to let him shoot the poor guy for looking your way.

“It isn't okay. Someone put their hands on you,” he nearly growled, the soft touch to your cheek a stark contrast to his voice. “You think I can let that go? I can’t. I won’t.”

You brought a hand up to tuck a few strands of his hair behind his ear. His eyes shut for a moment and grabbed your wrist before you could pull away. He dragged your fingers through the short beard along his jaw, like he was starved of your touch and needed more. You didn’t want to admit how much you wanted him.

Not when you belonged in different worlds.

“You don’t have to ‘avenge’ me, Bucky, because I’m not yours,” you said carefully. Were you telling him for his sake or yours? “Let it go. Please.”

The storm continued to rage in his eyes when he opened them and you wondered who would win the battle of the wills. You held your breath again when he moved close, the scent of his woodsy cologne making your head spin. Instead of brushing his lips against yours, he brought his mouth to your neck. Scraping his teeth over your pulse, you couldn’t stop the shiver of arousal that moved down your spine.

“You are mine, Kisa,” he whispered, giving your neck another nip as you tried not to whimper. “And I’m going to find out who did this whether you tell me or not. And I’m going to kill him.”

Your heart shouldn’t have raced faster at his declaration. “If I tell you, will you let me go home?”

“You are home,” he replied, pulling away and looking into your eyes so you could see how serious he was. “And I’d feel a lot better if you got some rest in my bedroom.”

You shuddered because you both knew you wouldn’t get a wink of rest if he took you to bed. And if you slept with him, there would be no turning back. “You can’t keep me prisoner here, Winter.”

The cold and ruthless man who only wanted you.

“You’re not my prisoner, Kisa,” he said, pressing his lips softly to your pained cheek. “But I’m never letting you go.”

He’d prove that to you.

I don't know about you lovelies, but I kind of love them. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[002yb]

I really need more of Dick being jealous, and it starts out with Jason being oblivious and just making things worse by interacting/flirting with others but when Jay finds out he double down on it until Dick can't handle it anymore and just kisses him and gets all possessive.

Idiots in Love trope x1000 ❤️

Jason having a persistent and undying crush on Dick since back when Dick was Robin

He's been flirting at Dick for a literal decade

Problem is - Jason is terrible at it

What's embarrassing? Jason is actually a natural flirt. The most unintentionally flirty bastard that ever walked the earth, in fact. Not that he's aware of this, of course. The fact stands.

When Jason tries to flirt? Strongly reiterating that he's bad at it. It's always tongue-tied stutters or bashfulness that steals his words; sometimes it goes the opposite direction and Jason gets confrontational through his embarrassment. Usually though? Jason's best efforts come across as completely mundane and casual.

Jason looking to his friends for feedback because see above with 'flirting for a literal decade' and his friends are just flummoxed after witnessing one such Jason > Dick flirts because wtf was that, Todd??

Jason being just as flummoxed because what do they mean what was that? That was Jason putting on the moves.

Cue everyone showing Jason how to flirt with intention - and I mean everyone

Even if Jason isn't interested in anyone but Dick, the attention still flusters him in a way that leaves him feeling a whole range of emotions - from bashful to amused to petulant to playful to embarrassed and it's ahhhhhhh always with a blush

Anyway. From Dick's perspective, Jason is flirting with everyone except for him. It's so blatantly apparent, too.

Which leads to Dick getting jealous

And being a little petulant about it

Petulant meaning - Dick inserts himself into every possible interaction to diffuse flirting situations

Jason might be oblivious to a lot, but he picks up the uptick in attention Dick gives him directly after everyone else starts giving him attention and it's very oh

So Jason carries on with the flirting with others, but only ever when Dick is around to witness it. All his attention stays on Dick, too and it's a heady sort of thing to witness how Dick's mood shifts - pleasant to dark in a way that Jason isn't familiar with but feels very keen about

And it's at that point that Jason can't help but smirk and it's such a lascivious look that Dick is fully enraptured - watching from a distance. Almost like he's stalking Jason and okay, yeah - yes please.

Maybe whoever is helping Jason with his flirting at that point gets a little swept up in the moment and pushes forward to close some distance. Only before any kiss can happen, Dick is right there behind them, pulling Jason back to his chest with his hand over Jason's mouth to prevent any kisses from being given and ohhhhh the way Dick's upper lip lifts in a snarl has Jason shuddering apart against him and it's lovely

Dick pulling Jason away to someplace private and he wants to ask what's going on but Jason and him just end up making out until Jason's knees give out and Jason stumbles until Dick catches him - laughing breathlessly because fuck

Meanwhile Dick is a little confused, but endlessly enamored because Jason's laugh is a beautiful thing - so is the way his cheeks flush and his lips bruise and hot damn

Jason explaining what was happening with their friends helping Jason out, since Jason wasn't having any luck with Dick on his own.

Help with what?

Flirting with you? Like I've been for xx years??

Dick doing the math and getting a little hot under the collar for it. Redirecting the conversation back to flirting lessons because what.

The best person to learn from would obviously be Dick though, right?

Then Dick lays some sort of line on Jason - full send flirts and Jason combusts. He's gone. Death has come to claim him a second time. He passes out. His maiden heart cannot handle.

[controversial-blorbo-bracket]

Controversial Character Tournament Round 2: Kromer from Limbus Company vs Anders from Dragon Age 2

(remember that these characters are fictional and your fellow tumblr users are real. please be normal in the notes, i will not hesitate to block if you harass people)

Propaganda under the cut:

Kromer:

HATE: - "Nasty, scrungly, murders people for having advanced prosthetics, but yet the fandom still loves her, I will never understand that"

Anders:

LOVE: - "So Anders blew up a chantry as a symbol of mage rights. He's wild. Completely feral. I love him so much. He's canonically Bipolar (like me) but it's written in the worst possible way. He is possessed by a demon, technically. He's so unhinged. So many people hate him. He is technically a terrorist. The later game literally changed it so even if you agreed with him, no you didn't" - "hes SOOOOOO." - "He has a controversy page on wikipedia (It is not about that time he blew up a church). He likes cats. He gives poor people free magic healthcare. There is so much discourse about him all the time. His writer hated him. He escaped a cult. He's canon bipolar AND bisexual. He's possessed by a spirit of Justice (who rocks so hard.) He hates the Catholic Church. He lives in a sewer. He's really mean and petty. He was put in solitary for a solid year. He's one of two openly queer (i.e. mentioning it outside player romance) companions (the other being Isabela Dragonage) in his main game. Anders isn't even his birthname, it's a nickname given because he didn't speak for months when he got taken to the Catholic cult prison at 12. He drank long-lasting poison to fight an evil corrupting force because he wanted to not be murdered or have all his emotions lobotomied from him by the Catholic church prison guards (This is almost completely unrelated to the possession.)" - "Anders! He's a medic for those too poor to afford healthcare! He loves cats! He has a cat named Ser Pounce-a-Lot because he's a perfect man. Anders absolutely says ACAB, except in DA2 it's ATAB: All Templars Are Bastards. He's canonically bi! He runs an underground railroad-type deal for mages to escape from abusive institutions! He blew up the in-universe Catholic church for opressing his people (mages)! Some say this makes him a terrorist. I say this makes him a babe ❤️❤️❤️ He is unreasonably mean to Fenris, but imo that's just Bad Writing we can handwave away ok? ok. cool." - "there is a controversy section on his wiki page bc his bisexual ass made the straight male gamers angry by flirting with their characters. ppl in the fandom have also been arguing nonstop for 12 years abt his actions at the end of da2. do u want to go to anders discourse? too bad we're going to anders discourse."

BOTH: - "I really liked Anders in Dragon Age Awakening, I thought he was fun and funny, but he's insufferable in da2 and his fans and apologists are so annoying. He's a terrible person in that game and they have to make stuff up and ignore all the awful stuff he says and does. He's so awful I always kill him at the end of the game because I hate what he became."

[wolfiemcwolferson]

From your list - Carlando 33? ❤️❤️❤️

I miss your Carlando!!!

33. Seeing your ex at a party, you grab the closest person to kiss them, and now you’re dating. (With a twist)

Darling, I’m so sorry to keep you waiting for more Carlando 💙

It’s not like Lando didn’t know he’d be here. It’s his sisters wedding gods sake’s, but Lando had managed to avoid him all weekend through diversion tactics and making a quick exit out of rooms, but there’s no escaping him now.

He’s walking right towards Lando and for the fifteenth time in the last four days he resolves to murder Alexander Albon for feeding George Russell dodgy chicken and robbing him of his faux date for this weekend.

Lando is hyping himself up - going over what exactly he’s going to say, wishing he had a drink in hand. Hi Brad, how are you? It’s good to see you. I heard you moved to Kent you cheating bastard. I’m not hurt at all over you anymore, but I’m pissed that you told everyone we broke up because I didn’t want to marry you. How does it feel to get kicked out of the wedding party you selfish piece of shit? The cat you abandoned with me is thriving though. Hope you’re well.

The first bit of it is on his tongue when a hand slides around his waist and a violently purple drink appears in front of him, but before he can properly take the glass or even startle, there’s lips on his lips.

Lips that belong to one of the groomsmen - Carlos Sainz. The one that went to uni with the groom. The one that Lando met briefly, considered precisely what his dick would look like and then fled the room. Mostly because Brad had walked in, but also because the last time he met someone through Charlotte, he had ended up here. Fleeing a room because of Brad.

“There you are,” Carlos hums, still looking at him, apologizing to him with his eyes before pulling back.

Lando takes the drink without even thinking through the movement, and he nods at Carlos, watching the wrinkles around his mouth and his eyes smooth out.

Carlos’ head disappears from his line of sight and Lando watches Brad come back into view, but now he looks confused and a bit afraid, clutching his own drink with white knuckles.

“Hello, Brad.” Carlos fucking purrs. “It is good to see you.”

Brad swallows and darts his eyes between Carlos’ hand on Lando’s waist, and the fresh drink Carlos has just handed to Lando, and then to Lando’s face.

“Lando, you look well.” And then he hesitates. “I did not know you knew Carlos.”

Lando opens his mouth to tell a barely passable lie when Carlos presses into his body harder, pulling Lando tighter. Lando is no longer wondering what his dick looks like because he can feel it, pressing into his hip where Carlos has shifted him to be a bit in front of his body. It’s possessive and intimate.

“We met when I came to London six months ago.” Carlos says, and Lando knows it’s pointed because that’s about two weeks after Lando had kicked Brad out for good. “You did not think the only reason I left the firm in Madrid to come here was because of money, do you?”

Carlos places a gentle kiss to the side of Lando’s head and Lando closes his eyes. He can’t stand to see Brad’s face at the moment, but mostly because it feels…natural and…sweet…and like there’s only this. There’s only this and not because they’re putting on a show and playing pretend.

Lando flutters his eyes open and he sees that Brad has turned to leave, walking away with one hand shoved in his pocket and Lando knows what anger looks like on him so he knows he’s angry. Furious even.

“I am sorry, Lando.” Carlos whispers, releasing the hold he has on him. “I know that was not okay, but I cannot stand the sight of him. He deserves it.”

Lando spins, feeling off kilter and exposed that Carlos apparently knows about his messy break-up when Lando doesn’t know anything about him. He didn’t even know he lived in London.

“Thank you,” Lando smiles at him, darting his eyes over to the place where Brad is slumped against the wall. “But I’m afraid that little show you put on can’t end now. You’ll have to stick close to me tonight.”

Carlos’ grin is wicked. Indulgent. “Yes, and you’ll have to buy me a proper drink next week as a thank you.”

Lando feels light headed. “Yes, alright. But you’ve got to dance with me now.”

.

Charlotte remains insufferable about the fact that they share an anniversary.

[luxxtuxx]

Could you write Hobie x dem Reader who has a small dog and she treats it like its her son 🥹 like let’s say the dog tries getting hobies attention and Hobie just ignores the dog and then reader forces Hobie to show love to the dog. I just think that’s so cute. Feel free to ignore and have a great day! ❤️

I love this, and honestly, I feel like hobie is a cat guy, he can tolerate dogs. But I'm gonna change it and use my dog as a reference, I have a 230-pound English mastiff who is my perfect baby and can do no wrong. And I bring him everywhere because he is Service Dog for when I faint. Anyways, let's get on to the story.

~~~~~~~~~~

You weren't a superhero, you worked a 12-hour shift at the shitty grocery store on the corner of West and Fifth. You had a large dog that it your prized possession, he was trained to help you with your periodical blackout you would have.

During dates with this handsome, tall dude you were crushing on. you didn't mention the blackouts. You didn't want to scare him away. One day without thinking after a nice ice cream date you asked hobie to come over to watch a movie or spend the night. Hobie didn't refuse.

When you got home, the large beast was waiting at the door with his basketball in his mouth. the second you and hobie got past the threshold of the door, the house lion barked at hobie. "Is that a dog or a horse?" he said a bit rudely. You didn't hear the tone. "it's my titan, my lovely boy" you kissed the dog's head. "Dont worry, he won't hurt you, he is just a big baby." You walk to the couch. Hobie scoffs "That's a baby? Jeez" he sat on the couch.

"You make friends with Titan while I get into pjs" You walk into your room. The dog gets on the couch and sits there. Hobie looked at the monster you called a pet. Titan moved a bit and put his head in hobies lap accidently leaving slobber on hobies pants. Hobie glared at the dog "You are a lucky bastard,, you hear me? I love your mother and the only reason I don't fight you is that you are probably twice my weight" he said petting the dog's head softly.

Hobie may tolerate this dog because the smile you had when you saw him petting this beast made him happy. "AWW Look at my boys getting along!!!" you took a picture. and moved the dog, so then you were laying on hobie and Titan was laying on you