#how do you write like you’re running out of time…

[reignpage]

Bath Time

Content: romantic, intimate sex with THE Nanami Kento (I'm willing to share him with you), unprotected sex, choking

“Come here, sweetheart. The bath’s perfect.”

You’ve had a long day — your boss was mean, blaming you for a missing file, your team were especially incompetent today, you dropped your sandwich and stubbed your toe on the freaking coffee table when you were settling down at home. It's like being stood on the edge of a cliff, having been shoved at every turn until there's nowhere left to go.

But Nanami Kento, being the best husband ever, saw the tension in your shoulders and the strain in your smile immediately. He held your face in his soothing hands and kissed your forehead, letting you know he’ll run you a bath and all you could do was insist he bathe with you. 

And, of course, he didn't turn down the invitation.

“Oh, Ken,” you moan as you submerge half of your body under the weather and lean back into his chest with his legs cradling yours. Hair tired up, you’re completely bare, skin to skin, and the steam is filling your vision. The hot water is amazing but you’re still tense, burrows furrowed as you think about all the things that went wrong. 

He hums, cupping water and letting it cascade over your body. “You must have had a long day, my love.”

“You have no idea.”

Kento grips your shoulders, fingers pressing and kneading in small, circular motions. His thumbs are working out the kinks and knots in your muscles, grumbling in disapproval over how overworked you are. You feel ripples of pleasure and relief washing over you, the water lapping gently around your bodies as you sink deeper into the bath, leaning further into his warmth. 

His hands explore lower, tracing the dips and divots of your collarbone, feeling and tracing in an intuitive rhythm. Years of love and devotion and faith have been buried in his bones; he knows exactly how to touch you so the tension melts away, so your eyelids are left fluttering shut and moans escape you. 

“Feel good, sweetheart?”

“Mhm, so good, Kenny,” you moan out with a smile. 

Pressing soft kisses to your dry hair, he mutters soft confession of love. His soft lips move to your neck, tasting the salt of your skin even through the fragrant soap. A faint lavender smell wisps with the steam, calming your nerves, but truthfully, all you can smell and feel and hear is Kento. 

Always Kento.

He’s being so sweet, so attentive, so kind and you're being very very bad. 

You shouldn’t be pressing your legs together and your nipples shouldn’t be tightening into stiff peaks. And when your hand falls onto his knee, you definitely shouldn’t be sliding it down his thigh, searching for something in particular. 

Although, to be fair, he should not be hardening against your back.

“Now, now, darling. This isn’t about me,” he chastises you, playfully biting your shoulder. 

You groan in complaint. “But Ken...I want to. I want to feel you. I want you inside of me. Please?”

Kento sighs and buries his face into the crook of your neck, arms winding around your waist to hold you close. You can tell he’s fighting the urge to do as you say, even though it would be so easy to just let you have what you’re desiring. You’re sure you’re soaked enough to have him slip in, it wouldn’t be the smoothest entry, but the stretch would be so delicious, like a massage from the inside. 

His hands are gripping your waist tightly but when one of yours pull at his, lifting it to carry the weight of a breast, he doesn’t put up a fight, rather he begins kneading as if he can’t help himself. Then he groans into your skin, thumb flicking your nipples, and you write in his arms.

“Oh, I could never say no to you, could I?”

Turning your head, you meet his lips with yours. It’s a slow, sensual kiss. You feel every drop of love from his very soul be swallowed by you and you can only accept everything he has to give. Whilst his hand continues to grope your breast, his other slides down your stomach and disappears between your legs. 

He grunts. “Sweetheart, you’re soaked.”

“I can’t help it,” you coo, “you’re just too good at massages, Kenny.” 

His fingers spread you open, his touching gliding around your clit where he begins rubbing tight, rhythmic circles, mimicking the motion he used on your shoulders. “Oh, that’s so good,” you whimper.

And when his fingers curve into your pussy, your back arches instinctively, hand clutching his wrist like you want to simultaneously keep him close and pull him away. His touch is firm, unyielding as he seeks out your pleasure, curling against the spongy part of your pussy that makes you release a shaky breath. 

“I missed you all day, darling,” Kento confesses. “I’m always ever so lonely when I’m not holding you.”

Hearing his gruff voice in your ear, calloused fingers massaging your insides and solid abs tensing at your back, you're being driven crazy. It’s too much and yet not enough. You want more, you want him inside. Now. 

He knows. 

He can see it in the way your ass is grinding against his hard length and the way you’re thrusting your chest in the air, encouraging him to pinch your nipple. And Kento’s never held anything back from you, never let you down, or left you wanting more. So, he lifts your hips, the water sloshing with the movement and you sink down on his cock.

“Here you go, beautiful,” he groans. “Take it all in, alright?”

Just as you had anticipated, the stretch is magnificent and you’re whimpering, nails digging into his thighs, the muscles there flex as he grunts. He’s sliding in with just the right amount of friction to leave you panting and when you bottom out, his hand flies up to your throat, holding your head close. The ceiling is all you can see as your mouth falls open in a perpetual moan.

Squeezing slightly, he steals your breath just as he thrusts up, heavy balls slapping your clit. You almost cum right there and then. 

“Ah, Ken!”

His mouth descends on yours, gulping every muttering of his name you’re feeding him. The water is sloshing around, moving with every thrust you make down his length, and when he rubs your clit again, bubbles form, frothing. Tiny droplets are clinging to your arms, and you can’t tell whether they’re from the bath or whether they’re beads of sweat. 

“God, you’re so tight, sweetheart,” he rasps, hand tightening around your neck. “I love you so much.”

Finding the energy to giggle, somehow, you tease, “Me or my pussy, Ken?”

“Both.” He emphasises his answer with a kiss to your temple, a smile pressed to your skin.

When he gives you a combination of a squeeze of your neck, a thrust up inside your wet walls and a pinch of your clit, you cum. Body tensing and back arching, you explode on his cock, an elongated moan reaching his ears and fuelling his own orgasm as you clench down on him painfully. 

“I love you so much, Ken!”

“God! Always so fucking tight, darling.”

Thick ropes of hot cum paint your insides as you both ride out your highs, and you’re groaning and holding each other tightly, afraid to slip and lose the warmth you’re emanating. 

Eventually, a silence falls upon the bathroom and the water stills to small ripples as you find contentment in each other's mere presence. The day's troubles fade anway and you can't even remember why you were so upset.

His voice is low, breathy and with a slight tremble when he asks, “Feel better, my love?”

You twist your body to kiss him, answering his question with your touch, sloppy cunt pulsing on his softening cock and swallowing the hiss he pushes out as you threaten to overstimulate him. 

"Careful, darling," he murmurs.

You whisper into his lips, “Thank you so much, Ken.”

Tearing up, you place a hand on his heart and rejoice in the galloping there, finding comfort that his beating reflects yours. Shaking his head, he pecks your mouth and with a conviction that makes you all gooey inside, he insists, “You never need to thank me for loving you, sweetheart. I’d do that for free and expecting nothing in return.”

And when he holds you like that, like you’re the most precious thing in the world and no one could ever take you from him, you know he means it. Because at every cliff you've found yourself on, he's the one that brings you back home.

Always.

[coldfanbou]

Kinkcember Day 21: Costume

Your girlfriend Hayoung planned a little gift without you knowing it. Let's see what she has in store...I hope it wasn't too embarrassing for her.

Length 1.6K

Hayoung X Mreader

You wake up early in the morning, reaching for your phone immediately. You’re disappointed, though, when you see that there wasn’t a notification from Hayoung. You expected your girlfriend to have sent you something to wake up to. You change into your work clothes, a little sadder at not having had a message from her. You work throughout the day, and you’re a little upset that Hayoung hasn’t messaged you at all.

While you were working, though, Hayoung was setting herself up for your birthday. She remembered a comment you made in the past about wanting her in a sexy cat costume. She figured now would be the best time to do it. Hayoung had ordered the costume, made some minor adjustments, and set herself up in your room. The only thing she needed to do was wait. Like a cat stuck at home, she lounged around through the day, tempted to message you something but deciding against it. Occasionally, she’d look at herself in the mirror, a little embarrassed to see herself in a bikini with a tail on the end. She did get some entertainment out of it, though. More than once in the hours she waited, she’d chase it, every time stopping to think, “What in the world am I doing?” Hayoung tried to busy herself by writing you a not-to-read when you got home; she wrote it and rewrote it dozens of times before finally settling on a final version. 

She was sitting in the living room when she heard the door jiggle. Hayoung scrambled to your bedroom, tossing herself onto the bed and facing the entrance as she waited for you to appear. 

You come home seeing nothing. The disappointment you’ve felt through the day becomes greater until you see a small note stuck to the wall. “Happy Birthday! I brought you a small gift, you know how you’ve always wanted a pet? Come to your bedroom.” It was signed by Hayoung. You can’t shake the smile on your face as you realize she didn’t forget. You rush to the bedroom, overjoyed.

You walk into the bedroom and find Hayoung lying on her stomach, passing a little ball between her hands. Your eyes move up slowly, sticking to the black cat ears on her head. “Meow?” Hayoung’s meow makes you laugh; it wasn’t something you had expected to hear from her. As she hears you laugh, Hayoung buries her head into the mattress, covering her head out of embarrassment. “Don’t laugh!” She shouts into the bed, muffling her words. She covers her head with her hands, and you now notice that she wears little gloves that mimic paws. “I did this for you!” She yells, tossing a pillow at you. You dodge the pillow and get closer to Hayoung, finally getting a closer look at her. She was wearing just a bra and panties, her panties having a tail attached to the end.

Hayoung pokes her head up, her cheeks turning a bright red as she blushes. Her hands cover her face the next second as another wave of embarrassment hits her. “Say something!” 

Your voice catches in your throat for a second. “You look beautiful,” you manage to say. Hayoung’s cheeks turn a brighter shade of red. She feels embarrassed to be wearing something so silly, silently cursing herself for thinking the cat bikini would be the best option. 

Hayoung quickly gets out of bed and runs over to hug you, her head resting against your chest as she tries to hide herself. “Happy birthday,” she grumbles, but you’re barely able to hear her.

“What did you say? Can you repeat that?” 

Hayoung kneels before you, rubbing her face against your legs while looking at you with loving eyes. She places her hands on your thighs, moving them up until she reaches the waistband. “Happy Birthday,” she says softly as she pulls on your pants. Hayoung smiles at you and meows again as she rubs her face against your bulge. As much as she didn’t want to play the part, she was trying for your sake. The meow makes you laugh again, though, and Hayoung stops. “If you laugh again, I will stop.”  She says breaking character. You stare at each other, understanding where you stand in this odd situation before Hayoung continues. 

It didn’t matter that she just told you not to laugh; Hayoung couldn’t handle it anymore. “I can’t do this anymore,” Hayoung says, tossing off the cat ears, having had enough of making a fool out of herself. She grips your cock tightly, moving her hand along your shaft and spitting on it. She moves her hand quickly, her attitude getting more serious as she feels your pulse rising. The contrast between her cute face and her sultry smile only added to your arousal. You moaned Hayoung’s name. She rises to her feet, continuing to stroke your cock as she stares into your eyes. “Tonight, I’m taking control, okay, baby?” It was a rhetorical question. Hayoung pulled you toward the bed and pushed you onto your back. Hayoung leans over your cock, sticking her tongue out and drooling over your cock before taking one long lick. You moan Hayoung’s name, making her smirk. “Don’t wear yourself out yet.” Hayoung presses her lips against your cock, moving them toward the head before swallowing your cock. She runs her tongue along the underside of your cock; you watch her cheeks hollow out as she sucks you off. You throw your head back and moan her name; the warmth of her mouth makes you forget about how rough your day was before this. 

Hayoung smiles; she loves seeing you lose yourself because of her. The young woman slowed down, making her movements more precise and using her tongue more. Your hips thrust up, and Hayoung has to hold you down. “Not so fast, baby. I’m in control.” She swallows the tip again and moves her tongue across the head and then back again. As your cock begins to throb, Hayoung quickens her movements; her hand strokes your cock quickly, making you cry out as she makes you cum in her mouth. Hayoung greedily drinks every drop, moaning as she tastes the salty liquid.  

Hayoung keeps her hand on your cock, stroking it until you’re hard again. Climbing onto your lap, she straddles you. She lays on top of your body, her elbows digging into your chest as she rests her head on her hands. “This little kitty had some milk; now she wants something else.” Hayoung rocks her hips back and forth, feeling your cock rub against her slit, her panties the only thing keeping you two apart. “How bad do you want it?”

“Hayoung, please,” you groan, feeling the heat from her body.

“It’s so fun seeing you like this,” she says with a smile. “I’ll make sure you enjoy this.”With that, Hayoung raises herself, pulling her panties to the side and rubbing the tip of your cock between her lips. She aligns you with her entrance and slowly sinks onto your cock, cooing as she feels you split her apart. “Oh, you're so big.” Hayoung takes you a little bit at a time, teasing you as she lowers herself a little more, only to rise back up to the tip. It’s madness on your end; you could only watch as Hayoung rode you. Eventually, she finally finished, taking your cock wholly inside her cunt. You were already near your climax at this point, but Hayoung was just beginning. She lifted herself up suddenly and just as quickly crashed against your body. Her eyes widen, and she gasps as she feels your cum pour into her body. “Oh, baby, you came already? I hope you have a little more for me.” Her words were teasing you; she leaned over and kissed your chest before beginning to ride you again. 

Hayoung bounced on your cock quickly. You groaned as she moved along your shaft; her walls clung to you. You’re more sensitive now and barely able to do anything as she rode you as if her life depended on it. She moaned your name, arched her back, and pushed herself to her climax. Hayoung only had two thoughts, one on how your cock was splitting her in two, and the other was how much she wanted your cum. Her usually cute smile looked sultry to you. She knew what she was doing. Hayoung swiveled her hips as she rode you, bringing in a new sense of pleasure as your cock rubbed against her walls. The two of you were getting close to cumming. Hayoung’s walls tightened around your cock, her pace became erratic and until she impaled herself on your cock, crying your name as you made her cum. You fell at the same moment, pouring another load of your semen inside her already full cunt. 

Hayoung grinded against you until she collapsed on top of you. “H-how was that?” she asks, out of breath.

“That was amazing,” You say, putting your arms on her waist. 

“Was I a good present?” 

“The best,” you say, leaning up to kiss her forehead. You chuckle as you see Hayoung transform back into her usual cute self. She has a warm and cute smile on her face as she closes her eyes and begins to fall asleep on your chest. You try to move to put her in a more comfortable position, but she shakes her head and holds onto you. You eventually give up and let her sleep on top of you, your cock still inside her.

[selfcarecap]

Dear Santa

✧ Logan Howlett x female!reader x Wade Wilson

✧ summary: Your best friend and roommate Wade is a little lonely over the holidays, third-wheeling with you and Logan the entire time. But the holidays are all about giving, so you and Logan decide to fulfil some of the more sexual wishes on Wade’s wishlist. Or: You have a threesome with Logan and Wade.

✧ warnings: smut 18+ (oral sex, piv sex, cum eating, frotting kinda, liittle bit of ass eating (f rec); deffffinitely attraction between Wade and Logan but the focus is on the reader), Christmas mention (just for the seasonal vibes, not the religion obv. wanted to make it neutral originally but sorry I needed Christmas vibes specifically!!), this is my first time writing Wade beyond a few lines, idk if I did him justice but either way this was so fun to write!

gorgeous dividers by @dollywons <3

✧ word count: 4.7k

Wade Wilson likes to flirt. That’s no secret. 

But he’s been even more flirty recently, in the weeks leading up to the winter holidays. In fact, he’s been so flirty that you had to check in with your boyfriend Logan to make sure that he doesn’t mind. 

And no, Logan doesn’t mind. If anything, he enjoys watching how Wade makes you squirm with the sexual remarks that you have to pretend are below your level but you actually quite enjoy. 

It started when you bought yourself some cute Christmas pyjamas, pink and with a cheesy pattern on them. 

“You look so cute, I could just eat you out,” Wade said as soon as he saw you in it. 

You sat down between him and Logan on the sofa, ready for your first December movie night, and you shared an unsure look with your boyfriend. 

“Don’t you mean you could just eat her up?” Logan asked, an eyebrow raised. 

Wade considered it for a moment. “Hmm, no. I said the right thing.”

You spent the rest of the night flustered, leaning into Logan and hiding your face in his neck as deeply as you could. 

-

The next time it happens is when you get out of the car after buying some festive decorations for your shared apartment with Wade. 

You’re getting the shopping bags from the back when you notice him still in the driver’s seat, leaning over to inspect the place you were just sitting. 

“What are you doing?” you ask Wade, cheeks heating up. 

“I was just checking if you were sitting in a pile of sugar, cause that ass is looking sweet.”

-

“You know why they call me Wilson?” he asks you over breakfast one time. 

“Because that’s your last name?”

“No, because I will soon be between your legs.”

You take a bite of your food, humming, “That one still needs some work.”

Wade nods, “I know, still experimenting on the execution. Thanks for the feedback.”

-

“Does my tongue taste funny to you?”

You roll your eyes at Wade. “Ew.”

“No, I mean it, I think I’m having an allergic reaction. Can you at least look at it?”

“Oh!” you hurry towards him. 

-

“You know, baby angel,” he tells you one afternoon, “I think you’re the only one who can still be on Santa’s nice list despite being so naughty.”

Your eyebrows inch closer together, “How am I naughty?”

“Your bedroom is right next to mine, Miss likes-being-spanked.”

“Oh…” is all you manage to say. 

“But from what I hear in there you are a good girl, so that checks out with Santa’s nice list.”

-

It’s not strange per se that he’s acting this way, but it still makes more sense when you find Wade’s Christmas wishlist. 

You’re in his bedroom to get back a hoodie of yours that he borrowed ‘because it smells like you’ and he wanted to cuddle it while he sleeps. He said it so sweetly that you couldn’t say no, though you hope cuddling is really all he did to it. 

You find the piece of paper jammed between the bedframe and the mattress, and it only catches your eye because of the messy ‘Dear Santa’ scribbled at the top. 

Wade is always graphic, but reading his wishlist still makes a tingle run up your spine. All that’s on the list is things he wants to do with you and to you, all of sexual nature, of course. Logan is involved too. 

You read Wade’s wishes and get giddy, running to your bedroom to show Logan. 

You’ve been struggling to find a meaningful Christmas gift for Wade, so this is going to be perfect. Now all you have to do is wait for the next horny joke – and you’re sure that won’t be long.

-

It’s Christmas Eve and you and Logan are watching some show when Wade comes in. It’s toasty warm, the fairy lights reflecting on the tv screen during every dark scene. You’re sitting between Logan’s spread legs with your back against his chest.

Wade sits down next to you two, eyes glued to your legs, bare underneath an oversized graphic t-shirt. You give him a minute before he says something.

His words come three seconds later.

“If your left leg is Thanksgiving, and your right leg is Christmas, can I visit you between the holidays?”

You lean to the side to glance up at Logan, who gives you a subtle nod. You settle back against his chest, “Sure.”

“Wait, what?” Wade’s jaw drops.

You giggle, humouring him, “What do you wanna do when you visit me between the holidays?”

He scrambles for an answer, still surprised at your words, “Since Logan is my little honey badger,” your boyfriend huffs from behind you, “and honey badgers are named after their favourite food, I wanna know if your honey is as sweet as I’ve imagined.”

You laugh but Logan grumbles, “If you wanna eat her pussy, just say that.”

Wade rolls his eyes, holding a hand to the side of his mouth, “Honey badgers are no fun,” he says to you, “But yes, I wanna eat your pussy.”

“Okay,” you say, smiling.

His eyes light up. “Okay? Like, you’re giving me your consent okay?” 

“Yes, Wade,” you giggle, watching him fall to his knees in front of the sofa as he gently pushes your legs apart. His fingers against your skin immediately make you feel warm.

Before Wade can get to your panties, Logan reaches around from behind you and pulls the hem of your shirt down, blocking Wade’s view. “Ah,” he chides, “No fucking manners. You kiss her first before you get between her legs.”

Wade doesn’t have to be told twice.

Your lips meet with a fervour exactly like you would expect from Wade. You figured he’s been lonely the last few weeks, single and alone while you and Logan are still in the honeymoon phase. You’re glad to provide some love for Wade. He deserves it.

While Wade almost bites your face off, Logan’s hands find your hips, gently circling the skin there, and you can practically feel the heat from your underwear radiating in the little space between you.

Logan knows your body so well by now that he can tell immediately when you’re getting needy. He reaches around you, taking hold of Wade’s jaw, interrupting the kiss.

“Now,” Logan commands.

“Don’t boss me around, the only one who can boss me around is this little thing,” Wade’s hand trails up your knee. You giggle, trying to suppress the moan you want to let out.

You spread your legs for Wade as he gets back on the carpeted floor, hands smoothing up your legs, playing with the hem of your panties. You want to tell him to stop teasing, the butterflies in your stomach almost too much to bear.

He laughs, “Oh, who am I kidding? I don’t have the self control to tease you like this.”

You lift your hips for Wade to pull your panties all the way down your legs, grateful that he doesn’t comment on how wet they already are. You don’t comment on how he stuffs them in his pocket.

Logan helps Wade spread your legs further, two sets of strong hands digging into the flesh of your thighs. You’re getting wetter by the second.

“This is even better than seeing Hugh Jackman oiled up and shirtless with ‘Like a Prayer’ playing,” Wade says when he sees your pussy.

“What?”

“Huge who?”

Wade ignores the questions. “God,” he whispers, leaning in to press a kiss to your clit, and you resist the urge of your legs to weakly fall shut from the pleasure.

He takes his time with you, eating your pussy like a five course meal, making out with it like he never wants it to end. Wade moans against your skin even more than you moan from the pleasure.

He fucks you with one finger, then two, while he licks your clit, but it’s still not enough. Luckily, your boyfriend recognises your need.

“Quit squirming, will ya? So needy,” Logan scoffs, lifting your hips off him for a moment to pull down his sweats, taking out his hard cock. You give him a desperate nod before he can even ask anything, and Wade helps position you so that Logan can slowly sit you down on his dick, all three of you sighing in pleasure as he bottoms out.

“Mhmm, good girl. Much better. Was startin’ to get cold anyway.”

You nod mindlessly, pussy already pulsing around your boyfriend. 

“So fucking pretty,” Wade mumbles. He licks your clit, your pussy stuffed full with Logan’s dick.

Logan lifts your shirt over your head, discarding it in a corner of the sofa, playing with your tits from behind you. Wade looks up at your chest, tongue on your puffy clit, and moans so hard his eyes almost roll back. He brings a hand up to squeeze your tit, leaving his hand there.

“You close, baby?” Logan asks, able to feel your every squeeze around his cock, and you nod, grabbing his knee for support.

“Yeah, pretty girl, cum for us,” Wade parts with your pussy for just a split second to say this. Logan’s hand comes down from your boob to gently press down on the space between your abdomen and your pussy, and you feel everything three times more intensely.

Wade begins to suck on your clit, and that’s your undoing. You whimper as you try to fuck yourself on your boyfriend’s big cock just a little bit, squeezing around him, as Wade sloppily licks your clit to draw out your orgasm.

All of Logan’s willpower trying not to cum flows into your hips as he grabs you there. You feel a warm load of precum in your pussy, but he manages to resist the urge to cum, pulling you up and off his dick as soon as you stop pulsing with the aftershocks.

All three of you are out of breath. Logan turns you towards him to press a big kiss to your mouth, pinching your cheek, “You really needed to cum, hm? Did so well.”

“That’s three Michelin stars right there,” Wade says, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and licking it afterwards.

You blink at Wade.

“Exceptional cuisine, worth a special journey?” he offers. 

“Michelin? I knew that guy…” Logan says, shaking his head a moment later, “You wanna keep going?”

You nod eagerly.

Your boyfriend smirks, “Let’s see if Wade can make you cum too.”

Wade puts a hand on his chest as he stands back up, hard dick tenting his sweatpants, “Je m’excuse. Were you not just there for me licking her pretty pussy until she came?”

Logan shrugs, “I was the one inside her, bub.”

Wade huffs, “That’s not how it works and you know it.”

You smile, pulling Wade’s face closer to kiss him again.

“Can I fuck you?” he asks in between kisses.

“Yes, but not yet.”

Logan completes your thought, “Not before I cum in her.” You smile at his possessiveness.

Wade puts his hands on his face, “Woah, wait. Did you two plan this? That’s so hot.”

You’re already on all fours, Logan getting on his knees behind you, rubbing his cock between your pussy lips. You sigh in pleasure, pawing at Wade’s sweatpants and pulling him to the sofa by the drawstrings.

He moans, pushing his sweats down and getting in front of you, “Well, merry fucking christmas to me.”

You kiss Wade by his hips and support yourself with a hand on his thigh. He gets the tiniest little bit harder, a brief flex of his dick, now fully hard. A drop of precum drips down, and you only just catch it with your palm before it lands on the sofa. 

Logan smiles behind you, “Can’t have him ruinin’ the sofa, hm, baby?”

You nod lazily, and look up at Wade, “Can I?”

“Holy shit, baby, of course you can.” Wade looks you right in the eyes when you open your mouth to take the head of his cock past your lips, moaning when you taste him.

Logan begins to fuck you at the same time, slowly at first. You suck Wade’s dick in the rhythm of Logan’s thrusts, slow but firm, that move you forward a little bit every time. Somehow, you manage to still look up at Wade with a little fucked out look in your eyes as your boyfriend fucks your wet pussy just how you like it.

“Such a good girl, baby,” Logan mumbles, “taking us both so well.”

Wade stutters “Yeah, yeahh, knew this would feel good but,” he needs a second to recalibrate when you move your head down to lick his balls, heavy cock falling against your cheek, spilling precum. Wade’s eyes fall shut as his head drops back.

He continues after a few moments, “but this feels like heaven.”

When you move back to his dick and take him into your mouth all wetly, Wade cums instantly. The pleasure of having him pulsing against your tongue and his cum spilling down your throat makes you clench around Logan’s cock so hard that he moans. 

“Yeah, baby, cum for me,” Logan sneaks a hand around your hip to play with your clit, and with Wade’s dick still throbbing against your tongue, you cum too. You feel Logan letting go, fucking his cum into your pussy that’s squeezing him with the pulse of your orgasm.

 You all come down from your shared high giddy and giggling, Wade’s hand smoothing over your cheek, Logan’s hand soothingly running down your spine.

Wade’s dick, still hard, flexes in front of your face when you look at him, sticking out your tongue, his creamy cum covering it. “Saved you some,” you say carefully, making sure to not let any of it spill from your mouth.

“You’re perfect,” he groans, bending down to kiss you and messily make out. Some of his cum spills from between your mouths, dripping down your chest.

Logan manhandles you to turn you around onto your back, and you bounce a little when you land. Then he bends down to lick Wade’s cum off your chest in one broad lick. You’re too excited yourself to pay attention to Wade’s reaction. 

Logan moves to rest your head in his lap by his lower thighs, cock hard again and close to your face. He nods between your legs, telling Wade, “there you go. She’s wanted this for a long time”

Your head snaps straight up so that you’re looking at Logan, your gazes meeting. Your skin heats up all the way down to your chest and Logan smirks, “It’s okay, princess. This pussy’s still mine.” He reaches between your legs to deliver a gentle slap to your pussy, collecting some of his cum from inside you on his fingers, bringing them to your mouth. You suck them eagerly, and then sit up briefly to pull his face into a kiss.

“I love how we taste together,” you tell him.

Wade gets between your legs and tuts at Logan. “What an animal, doesn’t even clean up after himself,” he huffs and promptly licks your pussy. He smirks up at you and Logan, “I love how you two taste too.” 

“Need you to fuck me, Wade.”

“You have no idea how long I’ve dreamed of hearing those words. Fucked my fist listening to you fucking so many times, gave myself friction burn.”

You and Logan share a smile. You know this; he talks to himself while he’s jerking off – you’re not sure if he’s aware.

Wade lines his dick up with your pussy, pushing your legs up against your chest, teasingly slapping his cock against your clit until you’re squirming. When Wade fucks you, he fucks you slowly, tauntingly yet desperately.

Logan lazily plays with his cock, slapping it against your cheek and your tongue from time to time, your mouth eagerly chasing after him, but he’s just teasing you, wants you to focus on Wade.

“Doin’ such a good job, baby,” Logan says from above you, stroking his hand over your cheek.

“Thank you, peanut,” Wade says, eyes closed, thinking Logan is talking to him. You both let him remain in that belief. 

Wade is lost in the feeling of your warm, wet and tight pussy around his dick, languidly fucking you as your pussy starts to squeeze around him more and more as you get closer to your own orgasm.

“God baby, feels better than anything I’ve ever felt. Can’t last much longer”, Wade rasps, playing with your clit. But it’s messy, and Logan can tell it won’t be enough for you. He bats Wade’s hand away and circles your clit instead.

You cum before Wade, moaning as your pussy clenches around him, triggering his orgasm. Your back arches as pleasure flows through your belly and spreads throughout your whole body, Wade’s hips desperately chasing to keep that heavenly feeling until he stills inside you while he’s bottomed out.

“Still haven’t made her cum,” Logan says, with a teasing smile.

Wade looks up, “I was the one inside of her, bub.”

You roll your eyes at their teasing each other, but you don’t care as long as it’s about your pleasure. You don’t care who made you cum.

“Bend over for me, baby,” Wade says, pulling out, “wanna see if that ass is really made of sugar.”

You laugh as you get on all fours, Wade pulling your hips in place. He bends down and licks your pussy where he just came in you, swallowing some of his cum. 

Then, he grabs your ass so hard your cheeks spread. Wade licks around your tight hole, and you wrap your hand around your boyfriend’s hard dick. Logan bends down to give you a kiss, and you moan into his mouth as the tip of Wade’s tongue pushes inside you.

You can’t deny that it feels good but you’ve never let Logan’s mouth stay near your ass long either. You squirm so that Wade moves away from your hips, and he gives you ass a teasing slap as he sits back up.

“Definitely made out of sugar,” he concludes.

Just when Wade is about to stand up, some more of his cum drips out of your pussy as you involuntarily clench around nothing, and he stuffs his face back between your legs. He sits back up with cum in his mouth, ready to kiss you, but you shake your head, looking up at Logan.

Your boyfriend pretends to be unaffected, but you can see behind it.

“Can he?” you ask Logan, and he agrees to it. You grab his jaw and open his mouth manually, biting your lip as you look at Wade. Logan’s skin is hot under your touch.

“Here you go, open up,” you beam at Logan, watching as Wade holds his jaw all tenderly, spitting his own cum into Logan’s mouth. You hold your breath as you wait for them to kiss, but the moment doesn’t come.

You visibly pout when they pull away without making out.

“I know, sugar bear, me too, but Peanut’s not ready yet,” Wade shrugs.

You press a quick kiss of encouragement to Logan’s lips, and he and Wade are on you again within the second, but you need a break after your orgasms. But that little exchange, their lips almost close enough to kiss, turned you on so much that you want to see more of them.

You tell them to sit together, facing each other, as close as they can. Their muscular thighs are tangled around each other’s hips, Logan’s leg resting over Wade’s on one side, vice versa on the other one. Their dicks are close enough to touch with just a little bit of assistance.

“Can I?” you ask, kneeling in front of the sofa.

“Can you what, princess?” Logan bites his lip.

“Rub your dicks together?”

“Yeah, but come here. Don’t wanna see the face it’s attached to.” Logan lies down and lifts you on top of him, your pussy in his face and your upper body by their pushed together crotches.

“Oh pfft, you know you love it,” Wade comments.

“He does,” you kiss him for reassurance. Logan is obviously into Wade, he just hasn’t admitted that to himself yet.

Logan begins to lick at your pussy, tongue playing with your clit. “Don’t. Can’t focus,” you warn with a teasing smile.

“Sorry, couldn’t help myself.”

You wrap one hand each around their cocks, just jerking them off for a few moments.

“Don’t make it so suspenseful, sugar bear, or I’ll cum from the anticipation alone.”

“Would that be a bad thing?” you shrug with one shoulder, smiling down at their throbbing dicks in your hands.

As much as you’d love to see Wade cumming all over himself before you’ve even started, you have other plans. You let some of your spit drip down over their tips, jacking them off a bit faster, hearing their breaths stutter.

“Peanut, you’re really missing out not being able to see her. She’s so gorgeous.”

“I know she is, Wade.”

You smile at their compliments, lowering your head to trail your tongue between their cocks, paying more attention to your boyfriend first, then to Wade. They taste of your pussy and their precum, wetting your tongue with their taste.

Playing with them for a bit, you rub their dicks together, jerking them off at the same time.

“You need some assistance?” Wade asks, sitting up more and moving his hips. All you have to do is hold your boyfriend’s dick in place as Wade grinds against him, rubbing his cock against Logan’s for a few moments.

“God that feels good, wanna cum,” Wade groans.

“Off,” you tell him, smiling when his hips still in defeat. You tease them both a little longer, rubbing their tips together until their precum mixes and they’re both close, but you don’t let them cum. 

You get off them, telling them to stand up while you sit on the sofa facing them, leaning back a little.

“Which one of you wants to cum on me first?” you ask, voice sweet and angelic. 

They both start jerking off immediately, and you almost drool at having these two tall, muscular men stroking their dicks right in front of you – and for you – fighting over who gets to drain their balls for you first.

It’s Wade who cums first, a string of obscenities leaving his mouth as he jerks his dick to orgasm, painting your stomach white with his cum. Logan isn’t far behind, telling you what a pretty girl you are as he cums over your belly and tits. Their cum mixes, and it becomes impossible to tell whose cum landed where.

You sit up to lick your boyfriend’s dick clean, then Wade’s, then you lie back, puffing out your chest.

“Can one of you get wipes to clean me?” you ask innocently, knowing exactly that’s not what they’re going to do. They get to their knees simultaneously, starting to lick their cum off you, licking you clean.

They sit down next to you afterwards, you sandwiched between them. They lift one leg of yours each over their lap, touching you all over, putting their hands between your legs.

“Such a good girl for us, hm?” Wade says.

Your boyfriend agrees. “Did such a good job, baby.”

“You wanna cum again? Wanna cum for Logan and me?”

You nod lazily, all blissed out already, “yes please.” Your eyes fall shut at how good it feels, and at some point you can barely tell who is kissing you, whose hand it is playing with your nipples, or whose fingers are inside your wet pussy.

You cum for them, clenching hard around the fingers inside your pussy as another hand grabs at your knee to keep your legs apart. When you open your eyes again after a few moments, both men are looking at you lovingly, and it’s Logan who slowly pulls his fingers out of your pussy, delivering a few gentle, smoothing circles over your clit.

You grab his wrist to bring his fingers up to your face, looking him in the eyes, at how they light up when you suck his fingers into your mouth to taste yourself, no matter how often he’s seen you do it.

“You’re such a lucky bastard, honey badger,” Wade smiles, leaning his head against the back of the sofa.

You innocently smile at Wade, “I’d say I’m quite lucky too.”

-

You end up cuddling in your and Logan’s shared bed, all fucked out of your minds, freshly showered but exhausted to bits. 

“All in all, a successful Christmas Eve,” Wade says, making you giggle.

You force yourself from your warm and cozy position between them when you remember Wade’s list, grabbing it off your bedside table, along with a pen.

Wade’s cheeks redden in recognition at the piece of paper, “You found that? That was just me writing fanfiction before bed one night.”

“We wanted to give you a nice gift,” Logan grumbles.

“Yeah,” you agree, “We didn’t want you to feel like you were third-wheeling all throughout the holidays.”

Wade smiles one of his sweet smiles, “Thank you, guys. You’ve made this little guy,” he points at his face, “and especially this big guy,” he points at his crotch, “very happy.”

“Let’s see if you got all your wishes.”

Dear Santa,

I’ve been an exceptionally good boy this year, my kill count is at a measly 34. I think I deserve a few things. Here are my wishes for Christmas this year:

- Eat out Logan’s girlfriend

“You know she has a name, right?” Logan huffs.

“Of course, but the writer didn’t want to have to use the dreaded y slash n.”

“What?” you cringe.

“Nothing, keep reading.” 

- Eat my or Logan’s cum out of her pussy

- Sword-fighting with Logan while his girlfriend supervises

- Cum eating contest off her body with Logan 

- Cuddle with them

“What genius came up with this?” Wade grins.

“We had to do some interpreting, but we got everything, right?”

Surprisingly, it’s Logan who points at the last wish, “We haven’t done that one yet.”

“Yippie!” Wade claps, “cuddle wuddle time.”

“Nevermind,” Logan says, ready to get up and sleep on the sofa, but you pull him back by the wrist, giggling.

You switch off the lights, putting Wade’s wishlist away – all wishes checked off.

Logan moves closer to you, pressing his chest against your back to cuddle, giving you a loving kiss before lying down.

“I love you, princess.”

“I love you too.”

You let Wade snuggle up to you as the little spoon, draping your arm over his chest, and he holds onto your wrist with a warm hand.

“You made me a very happy Christmas boy, you know that?”

You laugh, “We love you, Wade.”

“I love you too,” he says, and lies his head down on the pillow. You kiss the side of his head before you pull the blanket over yourself.

“Merry Christmas, Wade.”

Just as you’re about to fall asleep a while later, you hear Wade’s voice:

“You know that means Santa’s real, right?”

P.S. Thank you so much for reading <3 Let me know what you liked and reblog to get on Wade’s and Logan’s nice list 🤭😇 and Merry Christmas!!! <3

[rainychaoloveshack]

ﾟ ⋆ ﾟ ☂︎ ⋆ ﾟ 𝐅𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐢𝐞𝐥𝐝.

you and shadow cuddle up in a flower field. (after some persuasion)

A SIDE • B SIDE

☂︎ w/c. 650

☂︎ a/n. sorry for the all lowercase, i didnt care too much to capitalize while writing (wont happen again, i promise!) im a little rusty when it comes to writing for shadow, sorry if he's ooc

he’s already looking for you, isn’t he?

you can feel him among the flowers, petal after petal swaying with the wind, finding their way to graze across his cheeks, to the very tips of his quills. his ear twitches at the sound of your distinct chuckle, revealing your hiding spot to your ever persistent admirer.

“were you trying to hide?” he calls out from afar, footsteps trampling over the soft blossoms upon noticing you, until he takes notice and decides to soften his steps, avoiding the flowers the best he can.

“hmph.” he exhales softly, the tension in his shoulders dissipating as he sees your cheeky smile. that firm facade of his is already falling to pieces. “are you trying to taunt me?” his usually stern expression softens, not yet a smile, but the corners of his lips twitch as you stretch your arms up high, noticing the silly, yet adorable scrunching of your expression.

something always stirs inside him when he looks at you, even from afar. a sweet sense of familiarity despite how stressful the world can be.

unlike any other feeling he’s ever had.

shadow kneels down beside you, his gloved hand running across the flower petals around your waist, taking the time to drag his fingertips across your stomach. his ear flicks once he snaps out of his trance of admiring you, retracting his hand back as he clears his throat.

“come on. get up and lets go.” his harsh words mean nothing at the fault of his actions, his hand cupping your cheek gently to turn it in his direction. you can see the admiration in his eyes, despite his demanding tone.

you lazily raise your hand, waving it around as a signal for him to tug you up. he lets out a louder sigh than usual, but rises up onto his feet and takes your hand, briefly running his thumb across your knuckles. his lips part to say something else, but you interrupt him with one last attempt to beckon him to your side upon the flower field. his neutral expression sours into a scowl.

“there’s no point in trying to convince me.”

oh well. you huff frustratingly at his words. but there's nothing else to do but give up on his stubbornness.

… no, not at all. you’re not one to give up just like that in the eyes of your lover.

“no, i’m not wasting my-” his eyes widen, the stars and light flower petals illuminated within his irises as you tug him down, grasping him tight on his wrist. the cool feeling from his inhibitor ring hits your palm, but is replaced by his wonderful warmth shortly after, running your fingertips across his quills as your lover squirms within your grasp, displeased. after his incessant complaints and attempts to break free, his demeanor seems to calmen, still apprehensive, but at least he lets you brush your fingers through his quills, his head resting on your chest after a few minutes of this.

your lips part to utter sweet nothings to your lover, but his finger extends to poke you in the cheek briefly, shutting you up with the sudden gesture. he doesn’t look up to meet you in the eye, preferring the sound of your heartbeat.

“don’t.” he says plainly, his voice rough as usual, but his body relaxes once he snuggles up to nook his face into the crook of your neck. he practically melts into your touch, the rest of his face covered by the flowers. he’s flustered. “just… five more minutes, then i’m taking you home.” it’s somewhat pleasing to see him so shy.

your mouth spreads out into a wide grin. five more minutes is more than enough. and all shadow can do is sigh, completely and utterly taken by the person you are.

[quarterlifekitty]

Hi! could you possibly write something about a fuckboy!soap and shy!reader that he uses for sex, and she keeps letting him? im craving angsty angst ANGST that just keeps hurting…you don’t have to if you don’t want to and thank you if you do! Have a great day!

Okay, one thing you all should know about me? Is that I’m a weenie lol so I can’t help but make things a little hopeful most of the time. Also— gonna make this like a college type AU

Soap clocks you from a mile away when he sees you at a party. There’s a cup of beer in your hand that you’ve been nursing, just sipping to have something to do while you cling to the side of the friend who forced you to come.

He’s seen you in his classes before. You’re good. Not the type to be seen in a place like this. And that kinda whets his appetite. He wants to fuck you, break you, make you fall apart for his own amusement.

He nudges Gaz— they have the routine down to a science— splitting up the birdies that are a little too huddled together so they can have their way with them. Gaz runs interference this time, Johnny mouthing an “I owe ye” his way— chatting up and pulling your friend away to talk a bit more. You’re alone now, and Johnny swoops in, weaving through people on a warpath.

He corners you expertly, and you’re a pathetically easy read. Easy to tease, to coax, to push. He just has to throw in a few lines about how pretty you look, peppered between him saying he’s always wanted to talk with you, always admired you in class— he gives just enough detail to lull you into thinking this is courting. That he’s going to fuck you because he likes you.

Works like a charm. Always does. You clumsily follow him to his room—“Ye didnae ken? This is my fraternity’s house, bonnie,”— as he pulls you along by the hand.

He enjoys pulling you apart. Like the birds taking Prometheus’s liver. He’s not a complete animal, he makes you cum, but he doesn’t give you kisses the way you’d probably hoped he would. He’ll tell his mates later— it was kinda cute how fucking bad you were at giving head, too.

He lets you stay the night even though your clinging is a bit annoying. Pushing you out would burn this bridge, and he’s not ready to do that just yet. Not when he could keep having fun.

Come morning your clothes are tossed your way (sans panties, those are going in his trophy collection), and he has the decency to drop you off at your place with the promise of further contact.

Come your next class, he’s back to acting like he doesn’t know you. You’re shy, but you’re not stupid. It’s easy to see that you were played, and you curse yourself for falling into it.

So why do you show up when he texts you, asking you to come over?

Promethean indeed.

And it keeps happening.

It’s not like he treats you badly— that’s what you tell yourself. You’re just the idiot for expecting more than orgasms. It’s nice to feel wanted. It’s not nice to put your clothes on and get out right after, but you’re willing to ignore that. You shouldn’t be. But you are.

You’re not the kind of girl who gets asked out. So why refuse the one source of attention you have? He makes you cum, right? That’s more than a lot of guys do, so it would be unfair to expect more. High maintenance. Right?

If Johnny can see the hurt behind your eyes when you turn to check behind you when you leave, as if he’ll suddenly change his mind and call you back into bed to hold you, he doesn’t do anything about it. He’s content to tug on his jeans and brush past you with a cigarette in his mouth.

You steel yourself as usual, double checking the straightness of your clothes as if it’ll make you feel like less of a cheap whore when his housemates glance your way as you leave.

The door across from Johnny’s is almost always open, despite how closed off its occupant seems. You’ve never met Simon. Well, you really haven’t met anyone in Soap’s life. That’s not what he keeps you for, is it? Fucktoys don’t get introduced to the friend group. Doesn’t stop Simon from staring holes in your back every time you leave. Must think you’re easy. Must wonder if Johnny’ll mind if he has a go. Or maybe he just thinks you’re pathetic. You certainly do.

But it’s happened one too many times. Apparently, even a worm will turn. His stare itches and crawls up your skin when you already feel like such a piece of meat— chewed up and spit out. And you must be losing flavor. Before long you won’t even have this. You turn to look at him instead of walking on as usual.

“What the fuck are you looking at?” You spit in a tone that surprises you. You’ve never said anything like that to someone, not in earnest, anyway.

“Lemme take y’out somewhere.”

What?

What?

[cevansbrat0007]

Bold Moves

Summary: You decide to slip Ari your panties during an innocent encounter at the public library...

Warnings: Mature Themes, Smut, Ari Being A Menace, Brat!Reader, Brief Discussions of Body Image, Bird Being Brave, Going Commando, Light Roleplaying, Frisking, Manhandling, Spanking, Ass Slapping, P in V Sex, Implied Overstimulation, Cursing, Minors DNI

A/N: Decided to finish this when I came across it in my drafts. Takes place earlier in Ari and Bird's romantic relationship. Part of my Sweet Renegade Series. Semi-proofread, not beta'd. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated. Thanks for reading!

“I’m so glad you pitched me this idea, Marisol.” You beam as you finish writing in your notebook. “I know it’s still early yet, but I would love to collaborate with you for Halloween.”

“Yes!” The younger woman cheers, throwing her arms up in the air. “I knew I picked the right woman.”

“Just I knew they picked the right woman to run the town library.” You throw her a wink before tucking your pad and pen back into your purse. “Now, I hate to cut this meeting short…” Out of habit you press a hand against your belly, silently wishing you’d opted to throw on a pair of spanx this morning instead of a flimsy pair of panties. 

Frankly, you were tired of sucking it in. But every time you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror you looked pretty damn good. Perhaps your confidence was growing after all. 

“But I need to get home and change so I can run by the shop before it gets too late.” You finish, feeling grateful when the sweet librarian sees fit to lead you out of her office.

“Sooo…” The dark-haired woman drags out the word, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper as you both come around the corner. “Word on the street is that you’ve been seeing a lot of Detective Levinson lately. Everything good, I hope?”

 “What do you mean?” You respond, willing your pulse to remain steady. “Everything’s fine. He just…likes for me to call him whenever something new pops up about Martin. That’s all.”

And whenever you lock up in the evening. And when you make it home. And then again to decide if he’s coming to your place for the night. Or, if you’re already on the back roads heading to his. 

It was all so fun and exciting. But at the same time, it was just sex. Amazing sex, mind you. But just sex all the same.    

Instead of responding immediately, Marisol simply chooses to link her arm through yours. “Mm. While I haven’t lived here long, I’ve already learned how much this town loves gossip.” She muses. “Which is why I try to fly under the radar at all times.”

“Uh huh.” You give her a gentle nudge. “Even when it comes to a certain Officer Milton?”

“Shh! We do no not speak that man’s name in this house!”

“Why not?”

“Because I feel like he always goes out of his way to just…be around. He’s like a puppy. I do not have time for puppies, chica. I’m too busy building a career amongst the books.”

“Well sugar, I suppose you might wanna tell him that.”

“Ay, but that would involve making conversation. Something I also do not have time for because–”

“Because he’s standing over there by the door, talking to our favorite resident detective.” You interrupt with a giggle, prompting the other woman to drop your arm in a flourish before racing off back in the direction of her office before squeaking out “you never saw me” - leaving you alone. 

You allow yourself to stand there for another moment, content with watching the two men talk. While both were easy on the eyes, you were only interested in one of them. Glancing down at your outfit, you once again reassure yourself that you’re looking pretty damned good. 

And then – just that fast – an idea strikes you.

Refusing to overthink what it was you were about to do, you discreetly make your way into the ladies room. After checking to make sure you were alone, you slip into a stall. Reaching underneath your skirt, you slide your lacy black panties down your thighs before stepping out of them. 

Biting your lip, you tuck the small scrap of fabric into your pocket. Once you’re finished, you go to leave. But not before stopping long enough to refresh your lip gloss and fluff your curls. And then you’re out the door.

Hopefully you’d be able to catch the handsome bounty hunter before he left.

Thankfully, it doesn’t take you long to find him. He’s right where you saw him last – near the front of the library still talking to Milton. As you near the two, you can’t help but wonder if you’ll be able to pull this off without making an absolute fool of yourself. 

But first you’d have to find a way to get rid of Officer Milton without making your intentions obvious. And then it hits you. While it might be wrong, it was officially time to pawn him off on your favorite new friend.

Marisol.

“Good afternoon, Officer Milton.” You chirp as you sidle forward, politely interrupting their conversation. “Detective Levinson.” Of course you’re immediately met with smiles from both men. 

“Well get a load a’ you.” Milton gives a playful whistle once he gets a good look at your business attire. “Lookin’ sharp, darlin. Goin’ somewhere special?”

“Actually, I just came from a meeting down at the bank.” You tell them, smoothing your hands along your gray pencil skirt. 

“Ahh.” The officer nods. “Fingers crossed all went well.”

“It did. Thank you.” Delicately clearing your throat, you make a show of glancing around before directing your complete attention to the young officer in front of you. “While I hate to interrupt you two when you’re hard at work, I think Marisol might need you.”

“She does?” The man immediately perks up, vaguely reminding you of your neighbor’s golden retriever. 

“Yep.” You wince inwardly, hating yourself for lying. “Not sure what it’s about, but I think she’s somewhere in the back.” 

Just like that, a switch has been flipped and Officer Milton is off on the hunt for a sweet little librarian who most certainly did not need him. Fingers crossed she would catch the hint and just go with it. 

And now you’re alone with the one man with the power to leave you breathless. You were constantly left tied up in knots around this man. But today it was finally time you turned the tables on this guy. 

“How’s the manhunt going, Detective? Any new leads?”

“I’m afraid I can’t discuss this part of my investigation with you, Miss.” He says, flashing you a rather charming smile. “But if you hear from our guy Martin anytime soon, be sure to give me a call.”

“Of course.” You nod, feeling your cheeks heat. “Well, I’d best be goin’ now.”

“Be safe gettin’ home.” 

“Same to you. Detective.”

And then, without sparing him so much as a warning glance, you discreetly remove your panties from their hiding spot and slip them into the back pocket of his jeans. To his credit, Ari doesn’t move a muscle. Instead he continues to stare straight ahead, his gaze never wavering.  

Head held high, you manage to make it all the way to your car before collapsing in a fit of nervous laughter. While you wished you could’ve seen his face, you know deep down that you were better off running off the way you had.  

Maybe he’d call you tonight and maybe he wouldn’t. But all that mattered is that you’d mustered up enough confidence to make some bold moves this afternoon, which by all accounts made you a bad bitch.

Later That Same Evening…

It’s been hours since you pulled that stunt with Ari, but as luck would have it, you still had yet to hear from him. Not that you were worried or anything. In fact, if you had to choose an emotion, you were more disappointed than anything else.

While you’d long since abandoned your high heels by your front door, you were still wearing the outfit you’d worn to the bank. You’d simply been too excited to go by the shop so you’d decided to remain closed for the day.

Heaving a sigh as you rise from the couch, you’re in the middle of debating whether or not it’s worth trying to cobble together something for dinner when you hear the sound of your doorbell. Confused, you go to reach for your phone, only to frown when you see there’s nothing from the one man you wanted to hear from most.

The bell chimes again, prompting you to get a move on. “I’m comin’, I’m comin’!” You mumble, stretching your arms above your head. Opening the door, you’re treated to the sight of a large man standing on your porch with his hands in his pocket, his official badge prominently displayed on his hip. 

Hello, Detective Ari Levinson. 

“Evening, Miss. Apologies for bothering you so late.” 

“Why hello, Detective. Somethin’ I can help you with?” You do your best to keep your tone light while you wait for him to explain himself.

“Sure hope so. Got a report about someone engaging in some inappropriate behavior.” He informs you, barely concealing his smirk as he leans his big body against the porch railing.

“Is that right?”

“Fraid so.” He nods solemnly. “In fact, I actually found a trail of evidence that led me right here to your front door.”

“I…well, there has to be some mistake.” You protest, your hand flying to your chest. 

“Huh.” Ari sucks on his teeth as he reaches into his pocket to retrieve a small scrap of lacy black fabric. “Then you wouldn’t happen to know who these belong to, would you?”

Your eyes go wide at the sight of your panties dangling from one thick index finger. 

“I’m not sure what you’re implying, but they’re certainly not mine.” You sniff haughtily. “I’ve never seen those before in my life.”

“Now, Miss.” He gently chastises, taking another step towards you, invading your space. “Perhaps I should warn you that it’s a crime to lie to a member of law enforcement.” Instead of responding you simply fold your arms across your heaving bosom. 

The nerve of this man, thinking he had the right to question you like this right out in the open. Honestly, what would your neighbors think? The scandal!

“You know what? I’m thinkin’ I’m gonna need to search the premises.” The bounty hunter moves to enter your home, only to growl when your hand stops him short. “It’s also a felony to impede an official investigation.” Ari grunts, his brow furrowing in annoyance.

“And I'm thinkin’ I'm gonna need to see a warrant first, Detective.”

Your breath catches in your throat as you watch his eyes darken - his nostrils flaring ever so slightly. 

“I’m sure a good girl like you ain’t got nothin’ to hide.” Ari rasps, leaning in so that his mouth now hovers a mere inch above your ear. “Unless…”

“Unless what?” You respond, sounding a little more breathless than you’d like.

“Unless there’s something in there you don’t want me to find?”

“I don’t have anything to hide.” Blowing out a breath you decide to give the man what he wants, if only to see what comes next

“Not sure I believe you, sweetheart.”

“Fine.” You concede. “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to let you come in for a quick look. But you’ve gotta be fast.” You tell him, poking him in the shoulder before turning to lead him into your home. “Because I’m expecting company any minute and we don’t need an audience.”

“We’ll see.”

Your pulse kicks up when you hear Ari shut the door behind you, followed by the quiet snick of the lock. Guess that meant he thought he was staying awhile. Just as you open your mouth to protest, you’re caught off guard when he brushes by you, allowing you to catch a hint of his cologne. 

“I’m not sure what you’re on, Detective.” You say, shooting him your fiercest glare. Meanwhile, this man responds with his most lethal grin. “But I’m giving you five minutes to figure it out before I–” 

“You know, Miss, I didn’t wanna ask you this outside. Especially given the already delicate nature of this investigation. But do you happen to be wearing any panties?”

“Excuse me?!” His question has your mouth falling open, your cheeks burning hot with outrage.

“Answer the question.” His eyes track your every movement as you slowly back away in the direction of the stairs. “Because every good girl I know puts on a pair of panties before leaving the house for the day.”

“Goodnight, Detective Levinson.” You hiss before turning and taking the stairs two by two. “Please see yourself out before I’m forced to call your supervisor.”

Your words are met with silence. And it’s not until you reach the edge of your bedroom that you hear him moving – up the same stairs you’d just scaled only seconds before. You can hardly suppress a shiver as the heady thrum of anticipation courses through you. 

“I hate to break it to you, sweetheart.” Ari growls softly as his impressive form fills your doorway, effectively blocking your only exit. “But I’m not through with my investigation.” It’s a struggle to ignore just how good he looks taking up space in your bedroom like this. 

“I want you to leave.”

“Oh, I will. As soon as I’m finished.” He takes a step towards you, rolling up his sleeves as he does. “But first, I’m gonna need you to turn and place your hands on the wall.”

“I–I will do no such thing!” Comes your almost breathless reply. “I’m not a criminal.”

“Hm.” Ari cocks his head, his magnetic blue eyes leering at your much smaller, curvier frame. ���But you are a suspect.” In less than a fraction of a second, this man is now standing in front of you. “And it would be rather reckless of me if I didn’t pat you down.” One large hand curls itself around your bicep before gently leading to a nearby wall. “You should know that I’m a bit of a stickler when it comes to following protocol.” 

Blood roaring in your ears, you place both of your hands on the cool surface. Taking a deep breath, you can’t help but jump when he kicks your feet apart, forcing you to spread your legs even wider, granting him better access.

“I’m gonna report you.” Unfortunately for you, your flimsy threat does nothing to deter him.

Your eyes fall shut when you feel two large, warm hands glide their way up and down your arms. It feels as tempting as it does comforting. He repeats the action twice more, almost as if he’s trying to lull you into a false sense of security. 

Next, those wandering hands are stroking along your sides, greedily following the path of your curves. And then you feel him bury his nose in the crook of your neck. It’s impossible to miss his soft groan as he inhales your sweet scent.

“Now I’ve gotta ask you, little Bird.” He hums, his sharp teeth nipping at your ear. “Do you have anything on you that could stab, stick, or poke me?” 

“N-no.” 

God, you were so fucking wet right now it’s embarrassing. And you can’t stop the moan that catches in your throat when his sensual ministrations move to your breasts – cupping, massaging, and kneading. He lewdly palms them through your blouse, this thumps paying extra attention to your hardened nipples. Your back arches of its own accord as he continues to play with your body.

And there’s a part of you that hates yourself for the way he makes you respond.  

“Hm. So far so good, baby. Proud of you for keeping your hands where I can see ‘em.” Now his hands are skimming down your hips to toy with the hem of your skirt. His warm breath dances along your sensitive skin, making you shiver. “But now it’s time for the big question.” Ari begins inching your skirt higher and higher. “And don’t you dare lie to me. Are you–”

“This ain’t right, Detective!” You protest, protectively clenching your thighs together. However, your words only make him chuckle. “Pretty sure this is an illegal search and seizure.”

“As a member of law enforcement, I would have to respectfully disagree with you.” He says at the same time as he grinds himself against you, his massive erection pressing into your lower back. “It’s my job to keep the community safe. And to deal with naughty girls who go around handing out their unmentionables to strangers.” Your skirt inches even higher now, stopping just short of revealing your dripping cunt. 

“And what do you know?” He purrs, holding you still as his hand dips between your thighs, cupping your most intimate flesh. “Looks like we’ve got a little liar on our hands. Don’t we?”

“Don’t. We.” The renewed authority in his tone makes your pussy quiver.

“Yes, Sir.”

“And how should we handle liars, sweetheart? Hm?” Your knees go weak when you feel two thick fingers spear their way through your messy folds, lightly strumming over your clit. “What should we do with you?”

“....I…don’t know….”

His deep chuckle has you squirming in his hold, your hips bucking as he continues to grind the heel of his palm against your sensitive nub.  

“Tell you what. You and I are about to have a serious conversation about what happens to pretty young ladies who can’t seem to tell the truth. Even when it’s in their best interest. What do ya say?”

“Y–yes, Sir.” You moan as your eyes threaten to roll back in your head, sparks of pleasure dancing behind your eyes. “Whatever you want – I’ll be so, sooo good!”

Thirty Minutes Later…

“Why the fuck you keep runnin’, baby?” Ari growls, smacking your bottom hard. “Yeah, get that juicy ass back here. Love watchin’ those cheeks bounce.”

The rhythmic sound of flesh slapping against flesh fills the room, spilling out into the hall as Ari drives into you over and over again with his impressive cock. 

He’d been hard for hours before he ever showed up on your doorstep. Frankly, he’d lost count of how many times he’d paused throughout the day to bring your panties to his nose. It was like he couldn’t seem to get enough of how good you smelled. But he also knew that wouldn’t be enough.

He needed to taste you. Needed your unique, earthy flavor on his tongue. 

Thankfully, he had no doubt that he’d have time to eat the fuck out of your sweet pussy later. After he was finished fucking you into oblivion for being such bad girl. Who would’ve guessed his little Bird had it in her to be so deliciously naughty?

Meanwhile, you’re too busy sobbing into a pillow to be proud of yourself right now, your hands fisting the sheets while your man exacts his revenge on your body. At this rate, you’d already cum twice. And here you were already roaring along to orgasm number three. 

Fuck, this man was a goddamned menace!

Your desperate cries grow louder as Ari picks up his pace, forcing you to clench around him as you finally resort to begging.

“Please, Ari!” You wail when he lifts your hips higher before adjusting the angle of his strokes. “I–ooh God–M’so close!”

“Oh yeah?” He snarls, the sound rumbling from somewhere deep in his chest. “Then let me see you work for it.” A sharp hiss escapes when his heavy palm comes down on your ass again, this time smacking both cheeks without so much as missing a beat. “This is how bad girls get punished.” You tense when he delivers yet another blow. “They’ve gotta work for their pleasure.”

“I’m sorry–wooh God!” Your voice comes out raw, bordering on hoarse.       

“That’s it, baby. Yeah, there we go.” He gifts you with another slap, earning a sharp yelp from you. “Yeah, throw it back like you love it.”

After an afternoon of being bad, there’s nothing you want more than to be good for this man. You wanted to please him. Make him happy. If only so he never stopped touching you. And you were trying – honest to God, you were.

But it was all too good. Too much. 

“Just know, everytime you run, I’m gonna drag that sweet ass right back.” Ari renews his punishing grip on your hips, holding you up even as your sweat slicked body starts to give out. “Now cum for me one more time so I can finally stop takin’ it easy on you, pretty Bird.”

END

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[0omillo0]

Your fics are so good literally I check this place every day. I would mainline skz angst fics if I could. Angst/hurt/comfort PLEASE. Hyunjin one where reader was in an abusive relationship in the past and they get into an argument that was really miscommunication and Hyunjin like, doesn’t raise his fists but like turns around fast or something and spooks reader and they run off, no phone no keys no nothing. Pure flight mode.

Hyunjin x reader ; angst -> comfort

warnings: abusive ex, mention of fighting

a/n: I’ve FINALLY finished school I’m so tired, but I’m happy I can write all your requests now! (thank you xoxo). also thank you for requesting this! It’s the same problem I have so it was comforting writing this

•

It wasn’t Hyunjin’s fault.

You kept telling yourself that, repeating it silently, like a mantra, as the tension between you both began to rise. The words in your head sounded steady, but your body didn’t believe them. The weight pressing on your chest grew heavier with each exchanged word, with every flicker of frustration in his voice.

Hyunjin was nothing like him.

But no matter how hard you tried, the past didn’t stay buried.

Your ex had turned arguments into weapons. He had wielded raised voices like shackles, holding you captive. Apologies had come like clockwork after the damage was done, hollow promises that nothing would change. It had taken years to leave—years to find your way out of the cycle. And when you met Hyunjin, with his kind heart and gentle soul, you’d believed healing was possible.

You wanted so desperately to believe it.

The argument started over something small, something so inconsequential you barely remembered how it had begun. You’d mentioned the groceries—how there were none left at home—and he had bristled.

“I can’t do everything, Y/N,” he said sharply, barely glancing up from where he stood at the counter, his voice carrying an edge that made you pause.

It took a moment for you to respond. “I didn’t say you had to. I was just—”

“You were just what?” He turned then, meeting your gaze with frustration flickering in his dark eyes. “Pointing out another thing I forgot? Adding it to the list?”

The words hit you like a wave, unsteadying your footing. Your heart sank as you studied his expression.

“That’s not fair,” you said quietly, your tone cautious now. “I wasn’t trying to blame you for anything.”

“Well, it sure sounded like it.” He ran a hand through his hair, his voice lower now but no less biting.

You took a step forward, something twisting painfully inside you. “Why are you acting like this?” you asked, your voice rising slightly. You hated the tremor that betrayed you, hated that you already felt like you were losing control.

“I’m not acting like anything!” he shot back, his voice louder now, filling the space between you. “Why do you always have to push? Why can’t you just let things go?”

“Because I care about you, Hyunjin! I care when you’re upset, and I don’t know why you won’t just tell me what’s wrong!”

A bitter laugh escaped his lips as he turned his head, shaking it in disbelief. “Maybe I don’t want to talk about it. Did you think of that?”

The words cut deeper than you expected, the sharpness in his tone stealing the air from your lungs.

“I’m just trying to help—”

“Well, maybe I don’t need your help!” he interrupted, his voice breaking into a shout.

You flinched at the sound, the echo of it slamming into you like a freight train. Your heart was pounding now, your breath coming shorter. Your feet shuffled backward, almost on instinct, but he didn’t seem to notice.

“God, you act like you need to fix everything,” he continued, his frustration spilling out unchecked. “Like you need to fix me.”

Your breath hitched, and the room around you seemed to shift. For a moment, Hyunjin’s voice wasn’t his—it was someone else’s. Someone whose words were weapons. Someone who’d told you time and time again that you were the problem.

“I don’t want to fix you,” you whispered, your voice trembling as you tried to steady yourself. “I just want to understand.”

“Well, maybe I don’t need you to understand!” His voice broke again, louder this time, frustration and exhaustion tangled together in every syllable.

And then it happened.

Hyunjin turned sharply, his hand flying up to rake through his hair in agitation. The movement was sudden, unintentional, but your body didn’t care. Your mind didn’t stop to think.

You ran.

You didn’t even remember the door slamming behind you, your bare feet hitting the pavement as you fled into the cold night air.

The streets blurred as you moved, the echo of his voice—louder, sharper than you’d ever heard it—ringing in your ears. Your heart pounded painfully in your chest, your breaths coming in short, frantic gasps. You didn’t stop to grab your keys or your phone. You didn’t stop to think about where you were going.

The only thought in your mind was to escape.

The cold pavement stung your feet, but you barely felt it. The thin fabric of your shirt did nothing to shield you from the biting wind, but you didn’t care. The fear clawing at your chest was louder than anything else.

You didn’t stop until your legs gave out beneath you, your body collapsing onto a park bench in the middle of nowhere. The silence around you was deafening, broken only by the sound of your ragged breaths.

You curled into yourself, pulling your knees to your chest as tears spilled down your face. The trembling in your hands wouldn’t stop, no matter how tightly you clutched at your arms.

“I’m so stupid,” you whispered to yourself, your voice breaking between sobs. “He’s not like that. He’d never—”

But the fear wouldn’t let go.

When Hyunjin realized you were gone, it was like the air had been sucked out of the room. The door was ajar, swaying slightly in the wind. The apartment felt empty without you there.

“Y/N!” he called out, his voice laced with panic as he grabbed his coat and bolted into the night.

He searched everywhere he could think of: the café you loved, the little bookstore down the street, the convenience store on the corner.

But you weren’t there.

He called your name again and again, his voice growing hoarse as the minutes dragged on.

And then he saw you.

You were curled up on a bench beneath a flickering streetlight, your shoulders shaking with silent sobs.

“Y/N!” he shouted, relief and guilt flooding his chest as he ran toward you.

Your head snapped up, your tear-streaked face locking onto his. For a moment, you tensed, your body shrinking back as if to protect itself.

“It’s me,” he said softly, raising his hands in surrender. “It’s just me.”

He approached slowly, his heart breaking at the sight of you. “Can I come closer?”

You nodded after a moment, your breaths shaky.

He knelt in front of you, his hands hovering uncertainly before he reached out to place his coat over your trembling shoulders. “You’re freezing,” he murmured, his voice cracking. “God, I’m so sorry, Y/N. I didn’t mean—”

“It’s not your fault,” you cut in, your voice barely audible. “I panicked. It’s—it’s my past. I just…” You couldn’t finish, fresh tears spilling over.

Hyunjin reached for your hands, his own trembling as he held them gently. “I don’t care how long it takes, or what it takes—I’ll do whatever I need to so you feel safe again. Please, just let me take you home.”

The apartment felt warmer when you returned, but you still shivered beneath the blanket Hyunjin had wrapped around you. He made tea in silence, his movements slow and careful, as if afraid to startle you.

When he finally sat beside you, he looked at you with an intensity that made your chest tighten.

“I want to know,” he said softly, his voice trembling. “I want to understand what you’ve been through. I don’t want to hurt you again.”

You hesitated, the words catching in your throat. But when you saw the worry in his eyes, the love that hadn’t wavered despite everything, you told him.

You told him everything.

Hyunjin listened without interrupting, his hands gripping yours tightly.

“I’ll never raise my voice like that again,” he said when you finished, his voice thick with emotion. “I’ll never make you feel unsafe. I swear.”

You nodded, leaning into him as his arms wrapped around you. You let yourself believe him.

tags: @intartaruginha @hannamoon143 @inlovewithstraykids @whoa-jo @madirye062 @vixensss @sseawavee @emilyywhyy @halfwinterhalfuniverse @velvetmoonlght

[goldenbueckers]

✮ lazy nights ; pb5

➭ summary: paige comes home after her game and her only desire is to be lazy

➭ word count: 0.5k

➭ warnings: none... i think !

➭ author's notes: okay so like, this is not my first time writing but it is my first time writing for this blog so everyone bear with me. i know this is a little rough and def could be better (pls i'm running on like four hours of sleep and i'm sick). but despite that, here is a little blurb to ease me into writing for this blog more and i hope you guys like it :)

The door clicked shut softly, but it was just loud enough to break the trance your book had you in. The TV was still playing, the volume low from when you were watching the game before you abandoned it to finish your book. 

Your eyes were quick to find Paige’s frame, watching as she dropped her bag to the ground, and threw her keys in the small trinket dish you had bought. She kicked her shoes off, looking up and meeting your gaze, giving you a soft smile, “Hey ma.”

“Hey.” 

She made her way over to you, kneeling on the bed and handing you a smoothie, “Stopped on my way here.”

Your eyes light up, putting your bookmark in between the pages and placing it to the side, reaching your hands out to grab the drink. You take a sip, throwing your head back in enjoyment, “I love you.”

She couldn’t help but chuckle, taking her jacket off and throwing it on the chair before making her way into the closet to change. When she came back out, she flopped down on the bed and you wasted no time curling into her side, smoothie still clutched in your hand. 

“So, did you watch my game or did you spend the whole time with your nose in your book?” She teased, pressing a kiss to your head.

“I watched it, always do. You played well.”

Her face softened, hand coming up to rest against your cheek, thumb rubbing across your cheekbone. Her eyes trailed over your face, almost as if she was trying to memorize each and every feature and mark, “You’re gorgeous.”

You blushed at the unexpected compliment, leaning into her touch, “What was that for?”

“What? Can’t I compliment my girl?” Her thumb moved to trace over your bottom lip.

“No, I just- it came out of nowhere.”

Paige’s hand tangled in your hair, resting at the back of your head to bring you closer. Before she could, you kissed her first, melting instantly. Tugging at your hair, she grinned as you groaned into the kiss, pulling away and resting her forehead against yours. 

Your cheeks were still red which made Paige as smug as ever as she looked at you. Her eyes moved to where your book lay, “How’s your book?”

“S’good. Almost done.”

“Yeah? Why don’t you finish it and then we can go to bed.”

“Really?”

She nodded, throwing her arm around your shoulder, “Mhm. Go for it.”

Grabbing your book, you settled against her, taking a sip of your smoothie every so often. And once you were done, you got up to place the book back on its place on the shelf and throw the cup away. When you looked back at the bed, Paige was reaching out to you, “Hurry up. M’cold.”

You laughed but made your way back to the bed and jumped on it, laying your head against her chest as her hand ran through your hair again. It didn’t take long for you to drift off, letting out soft snores as you did so. 

Paige just watched you, a fond look on her face before she too fell asleep, holding you just as tightly.

PB5 MASTERLIST ; MASTERLIST

TAGLIST ; NAVIGATION

[revelboo]

Aw, I love how you write the buggy boy Waspinator <3

He’s puppy. Ugly puppy.

Worker Bee Pt 9

Waspinator x Reader

• “Please, put me down.” Surprised at how calm your voice is considering you’d just heard your wet towel hit the floor and your clingy, alien bestie has you plastered against him. Those purple optics just stare down at you as his mandibles flex. And you wait for the inevitable ‘why.’ Because anytime you ask him to do anything he doesn’t want to do, it’s his go to. That much you’ve figured out. “Humans don’t like being naked around strangers,” you add trying to answer the question before he can even ask. Not sure if modesty actually means anything to him when he doesn’t wear clothes and has nothing to actually cover up anyway.

• “Not strangers,” he says, slightly hurt. You’re friends. His only friend, the only person he feels like he can trust. Who doesn’t hurt him just because he’s there. “Not strangers.” Aware he’s repeating himself, that the words are more buzz than comprehendible, but it matters. Needs you to understand this. Wings fluttering as he lowers you to your feet and drags you back when you immediately try to escape. Curling himself around you.

• “I didn’t mean it like that,” you groan, trying to push him away as he just clings. Making that pitiful buzzing whine of distress and hugging you to him, still oblivious to the fact that you’re mortified and naked. “We’re friends.” Awkwardly patting him on the head and nearly getting an antenna to the eye when they swing forward to touch your face in return. How is this your life? “Best friends, but humans aren’t usually naked around friends. Modesty. We like wearing clothes.” Exasperated, you almost cry when he lets go and bends to get your towel. Even if his antenna slide against your inner thighs and belly in the process.

• Venting softly as you wrap the bit of cloth about yourself and gently push at him, he doesn’t budge. Knows you want him to leave even though he doesn’t want to. Pretending to not understand, he wanders over to the little shiny box on your dresser and opens it. “Snacks?” And you’re running over, nearly losing your towel again as you take the box away and carry it to the far side of the room.

• “Please don’t eat my jewelry.” He’s just staring at you with confused optics as you set the jewelry box in the closet and start hunting clothes. You’re going to have to start wearing your expensive pieces so he doesn’t sneak them as snacks. Drifting back to the dresser to get underclothes, you’re aware of him just watching. “You’re not going to leave so I can get dressed, are you?” Head tilting and antenna lifting, you decide that’s a no. Of course not. “Okay. Sure.” Grabbing him by the arm, you’re surprised when he lets you turn him around so his back is to you. “Just stay. Don’t move.”

• Humming softly as he listens to the soft sound of cloth sliding, he fidgets his wings and waits. Doesn’t know what this new game is, but hopes he’ll get a reward for being good. Hungry again and knowing he’ll need to return to the Decepticons for energon soon. That thought filling him with anxious energy, because he wants to stay with you where he feels welcome. Maybe not exactly wanted, but tolerated. Aware that he annoys you, but it’s so hard not to constantly reach for you hoping to feel those gentle hands on him. Wanting to be near you, to sit at your feet if that’s all you’ll allow him. Just let him stay. Belong somewhere for the first time ever.

Previous

[3igbootyl0ver]

who hurt you? [iv]

pairing: tara carpenter x reader

summary: Tara finally finds the courage to open up and seek help.

word count: 4610

warnings: mentions of abuse, violence, angst

a/n: guys I lied this is NOT the last part. I realized how much I have to write lol but the angst is over, the next part should be just fluff and tara's recovery. this is the longest I wrote so far lol so I hope its not too draggy

part [i] | part [ii] | part [iii]

Tara felt her phone buzz multiple times in a minute. It took her a moment to gain the courage and look at her notifications. 5 missed calls and missed texts from Amber herself. She felt a shiver run down her spine, not sure if it was from the chilly breeze or her fear of Amber coming to get her. Her fingers hovered over the screen, debating whether to respond or power off the phone and ignore the reality of her situation.

Amber

Tara, where are you?

I told you to meet me behind the bleachers.

You just can’t listen, can you??? 

(Missed call from Amber)

Answer your damn phone.

Seriously? Was this about that day? I barely touched you, it was a joke. Don’t be so dramatic

You know I only do these things because you push me. If you didn’t act like this, I wouldn’t have to.

Just get here.Now. 

Tara felt her chest tighten after reading the texts, afraid of what could happen to her, her consequences. “You deserved it anyways,” was what Amber would say to her after she got hurt. At first, Tara had fought against those words, clinging to the belief that she was worth more, that she wasn’t the problem. But over time, the constant barrage of blame and cutting remarks chipped away at her resolve. Amber’s voice had become a whisper in her mind, louder than her own, until one day Tara caught herself nodding in agreement. Maybe she did deserve it. Maybe everything that happened was her fault.

Her breathing grew shallow as the weight of the messages and memories bore down on her. Her phone slipped from her trembling hand, landing on the floor with a soft thud, but she barely noticed. Her chest heaved as panic clawed its way through her, each breath feeling harder than the last. Her vision blurred, and the world around her faded into a distant hum, drowned out by the cruel echoes of Amber’s voice in her head. She clutched her knees, trying to ground herself, but her thoughts spiraled uncontrollably. What if she’s right? What if I deserve everything coming my way? The questions suffocated her, and she felt like she was drowning in her own mind, unable to surface.

Her breath hitched when a familiar face entered her blurry field of vision, concern etched deeply in your furrowed brows. You raised a hand slowly, your movements deliberate and gentle, pausing as if asking for silent permission. When she gave a weak, trembling nod, you knelt down and rested your hand over hers, the warmth grounding her in the chaos of her spiraling thoughts. Your voice followed, soft and steady, cutting through the haze as you spoke words of comfort and reassurance.

“Tara, hey. Look at me. I’m here, okay? You’re safe now. Take a deep breath with me. Let’s do it together—breathe in…and out. Nice and slow. Just like that.” Tara listened to your instructions, slowly gaining back her bearings before tearing up again, overwhelmed by her feelings.

“I’m sorry—I’m such a burden—“ “Hey, I want none of that right now, okay? You’re not alone in this. Whatever’s happening, we’ll handle it together. You’re stronger than this—always have been. It will pass, I promise.” 

It took Tara a while to piece together what happened and where she was. She just had a panic attack. You were there. The softness of your bed beneath her and the faint scent of your room finally grounded her. She blinked a few times, her gaze settling on the familiar surroundings, and the realization hit—she was safe.

You sat beside her, your voice calm as you spoke. “I texted Chad and Mindy to come over,” you said gently. “I thought having some company might help. They’re on their way now.”

Tara nodded slowly, the tension in her shoulders easing just a fraction. The thought of familiar faces brought a small flicker of relief amidst the storm swirling inside her.

-

As soon as the doorbell rang, you hurried to open it. Mindy wasted no time, wrapping you in a tight hug before you could say a word. Her embrace was warm and reassuring, a silent way of saying, We’re here for you. The moment she stepped back, Chad pulled you into his own firm hug, his hand patting your back in solidarity. Their presence immediately lightened the air, filling the space with a sense of comfort and support.

“We won, by the way. There was a party after, but it wouldn’t be the same without you.” Mindy commented, slightly smug about how she scored the winning goal. You’ve never doubted her once; you knew she could do it. 

If Tara was being honest, she was afraid to meet the twins—afraid that she would be posed as the bad friend that avoided them, that she was weak and fragile. The thought of their disappointment, the way they might look at her with concern or pity, sent a wave of anxiety through her. It felt easier to stay away, to hide, than to face the questions and the judgments she imagined they’d have.

Tara took a deep breath, steeling herself as Mindy and Chad walked into the room. The moment Mindy stepped forward, she pulled Tara into a tight, almost desperate hug. Tara froze for a second, then allowed herself to melt into the embrace, feeling the warmth and safety that came with it. Mindy’s voice was soft but firm when she pulled away.

“You don’t have to apologize, Tara. We’re here,” she said, her tone full of concern.

Chad, a few steps behind, offered a reassuring smile before pulling her into his own hug, his hand gently patting her back. “You’re not alone in this,” he murmured, his voice calm and steady. Tara nodded, the overwhelming weight of her anxiety not quite lifting, but at least softened by the comfort of their presence.

As they settled around her, Tara felt an unexpected wave of guilt. If she were being honest, she was afraid of meeting them again—afraid that they would see her as the bad friend who had avoided them, that they would view her as weak and fragile. The thought of disappointing them, of facing their concern or pity, made her stomach turn. It felt easier to stay hidden, to avoid the inevitable questions they would ask about where she had been, why she’d pulled away. But now, as she sat between them, she realized that the fear of their judgment was nothing compared to the warmth of their unwavering support.

Tara took a deep breath, her heart pounding as she finally began to speak, her voice trembling with the weight of the words she’d kept locked inside for so long. She glanced at Mindy and Chad, their faces filled with concern and unwavering support, and it made her feel a little less alone. She told everyone in the room how she started dating Amber; and how things went downhill. By the time Tara ended, she was sobbing uncontrollably, your arms wrapped around her to calm her down. She looked at Mindy and Chad, “I’m so sorry. I should’ve come to you sooner.” Tara said tears still streaming down her face, but her voice stronger than before.

Mindy’s expression softened as Tara spoke, her eyes filled with both sadness and empathy. “Tara, you don’t deserve any of that,” Mindy said, her voice gentle but firm.

“None of it was your fault. Amber had no right to treat you that way, no matter what she said,” Mindy said, her words steady and filled with conviction. “You’re not broken, you’re strong. You’re still here, and you’re fighting. That’s what matters.” Mindy reached for her hand, squeezing it gently.

Chad nodded in agreement, his expression serious. “Mindy’s right. You don’t have to face it alone, you have us.” He paused, letting the weight of his words sink in. “Tara, you should think about reporting this. What happened to you wasn’t just a mistake—it was abuse. And abuse needs to be taken seriously.”

“I know it’s scary, and I know you’re probably thinking about what Amber might do or say, but we’re here for you, every step of the way. Reporting this to the police isn’t just about getting her in trouble—it’s about protecting yourself and making sure this doesn’t happen to anyone else. You’re not alone in this. We’ll be with you, no matter what you decide.” You added, gently rubbing your hand along her arms, making her relaxed.

Tara sat in silence for a moment, her mind racing with the idea of taking that step. She had never imagined herself going to the police, but now, with Mindy, Chad, and you by her side, it didn’t feel quite as impossible. It was terrifying, but maybe it was the first step toward finally finding peace.

-

A few days later, Tara found herself sitting in a quiet room at the local police station, her heart pounding in her chest as she looked down at the paper in front of her. She had made the decision—she was reporting the abuse. The officer sitting across from her was kind, patient, but Tara could still feel the weight of every word she spoke. She told them everything. About Amber’s manipulation, the slaps, the pushing, the hurtful words. She didn’t leave anything out, though every sentence felt like it ripped open a wound she’d tried to bury for so long. She even included photos of her bruises she would take pictures of throughout the relationship. The officer appreciated it, it adds more evidence even when there’s a big yellowish blotch on her face that didn’t need any more explaining.

When the officer assured her that her report would be taken seriously, Tara couldn’t help but feel a tiny flicker of relief, even though fear still lingered in her chest. She had done the right thing. She hoped. But as Tara walked out of the station, the reality of her decision began to settle in. She had taken a step that could never be undone, and she knew Amber would eventually find out.

And it didn’t take long.

It was the following afternoon when Tara received a call from an unknown number. Her stomach dropped, the familiar anxiety creeping back into her veins as she hesitated for a moment before answering.

“Hello?” Tara’s voice was barely above a whisper.

“Tara,” came Amber’s voice, cold and filled with venom. “I know what you did.”

Tara’s heart skipped a beat, and she instinctively took a step back, as if she could escape the phone call that had already settled deep into her chest.

“You went to the police, didn’t you? You really think you can get away from me that easily? Blocking my number didn’t do anything, did it?” Amber’s tone was almost mocking, but beneath it was a layer of pure rage. “You’re nothing without me, Tara. Do you really think they’ll believe you? Do you really think I would hurt you? You’re a liar.”

Tara’s grip on the phone tightened, her voice shaking with fear but laced with a newfound resolve. “I’m not lying, Amber. I’m done. You don’t control me anymore.” Amber’s laughter came through the phone, sharp and cruel. “We’ll see about that.” And then the line went dead.

Tara stood there, the cold air biting at her skin, her heart racing in her chest; feeling the fear creep back in, until you called her downstairs for dinner. Ever since you found her during the finals, you managed to convince Tara to stay over at yours for awhile, considering she would’ve been alone at home and you wouldn’t want anything to happen to her.

You went up to the guest bedroom Tara was staying in to see her staring at her phone, slightly taken aback. You could sense her breathing getting shallower and sharper, realizing that she was having an asthma attack and quickly took her inhaler that was placed on the drawers.

She gasped again, but her breath wouldn’t come. Panic began to set in, her heart rate quickening, and she coughed uncontrollably, the sound rough and wet in her chest. The tightness in her throat made it harder to exhale, a wheeze escaping as she forced the air out. It felt as though the very act of breathing had turned into a struggle, and the more she tried, the harder it became. Your hand was already passing the inhaler to her trembling fingers. Tara’s breath hitched, struggling to move as her hands shook, but you placed your hand over hers, steadying it.

"Here, just... take a slow breath in. You can do it," you encouraged, your voice steady as you helped her press the inhaler to her lips. Tara obeyed, inhaling shakily, and within moments, she felt the familiar cooling sensation spread through her chest. The tightness loosened just a little, and she gasped for air, the wheezing beginning to subside.

“Good. Just like that,” you whispered, your hand resting on her shoulder, grounding her. Slowly, Tara's breathing steadied, each inhale coming a little easier than the last, the panic beginning to melt away as the medicine took effect. You stayed by her side, never letting go, just silently offering the comfort she desperately needed.

-

You were starting to get used to the sight of Tara struggling with both panic and asthma attacks throughout her stay at your home. It was a constant ebb and flow, moments where she seemed like she was almost back to herself, only for the anxiety or her breathing to hit her again without warning. At first, it was overwhelming—watching her gasping for air, feeling helpless as she trembled and shook—but over time, you learned how to respond.

You kept her inhaler close, always within reach. You knew the signs now, the way her chest would tighten, the shallow breaths, the subtle shift in her expression that meant her panic was escalating. You knew how to talk her down, how to ground her when the anxiety became too much, and how to steady her when she couldn’t catch her breath. The routine of it had become familiar: gently helping her breathe in through the inhaler, guiding her hands to her chest to ground her, reassuring her with calm words that she wasn’t alone.

But each time it happened, it still broke your heart. You could see the fear in her eyes, the fear of not knowing if she would get through it, the lingering dread that she wasn’t safe. You never left her side during those moments. No matter how many times it happened, you were there—watching, waiting, helping her through it until she found her breath again.

And while it was exhausting, both for her and for you, there was a certain quiet comfort in knowing you could help. Tara was stronger than she gave herself credit for, and you were proud of her every time she pushed through, even when it seemed like too much. With each attack, she seemed to hold onto that strength a little longer, even when she didn't see it herself.

-

After a few weeks of rest and recovery, Tara made the decision to go back to school. It wasn’t easy—every step toward the building felt like it weighed a ton, and her heart would race at the thought of seeing people again, of facing the memories that lurked in every hallway. But she couldn’t hide forever, and despite the anxiety swirling in her chest, Tara knew it was time to take that first step. The news spread like wildfire rippling both in Woodsboro and Blackmore. Everyone seemed to have their own version of the story, but the narrative was clear: Tara and Amber’s relationship was no longer just a private matter—it had become public, and with it, a storm of judgment.

Amber wasted no time in twisting the truth, claiming that Tara had fabricated everything. She told anyone who would listen that Tara was just seeking attention, painting herself as the victim of a lie. Amber played the part of the heartbroken, misunderstood girlfriend, while Tara was cast as the unreliable, dramatic ex who couldn’t handle their breakup. The accusations were swift, harsh, and relentless.

But amidst the gossip, there were small moments of clarity. She still had people who believed her—people like Mindy and Chad, who stood by her side without question. And you. You were her anchor. Every time the rumors swirled, you were there, offering her a steady presence, a reminder that her truth mattered, no matter what anyone else said. The world around her might have been filled with noise, but with your support, Tara began to find her voice again. Even if it took time, even if it was hard, she wasn’t going to let Amber’s lies define her.

The night before, she barely slept, tossing and turning in her bed, replaying the worst-case scenarios in her mind. What if Amber showed up? What if people asked questions she wasn’t ready to answer? But when morning came, you were there to reassure her once more, helping her gather her things and offering quiet encouragement.

“Just take it one step at a time,” you told her, giving her a gentle smile. “You don’t have to face everything all at once. We’ll get through it together.”

As Tara walked through the school gates, she felt a mix of nervousness and determination. She had her inhaler in her pocket, just in case, and a deep breath to calm the jittery nerves that clung to her. There was no going back now, but with each step forward, she could feel the weight on her shoulders lifting just a little bit. She wasn’t alone. Not anymore.

“Hey, Tara!” Serena, a classmate called out, her voice piercing through the crowded hallway. At the sound of her voice, you immediately tensed, a protective instinct kicking in. You weren’t sure if Serena was going to confront Tara, maybe join in the whispers and rumors that had been circulating. But as you glanced at Tara, you could see the hesitation in her expression. She was unsure what to expect from Serena now.

Without thinking, you gently pulled Tara closer, positioning yourself as a shield, ready for whatever was about to happen. Tara stiffened at first, but then she relaxed into you, seeking comfort in your presence. She wasn’t ready to face any more hostility or doubt—not from anyone.

Serena approached, her steps slow but determined. The usual confidence she carried was gone. Her face was softer, almost apologetic, and there was a sadness in her eyes that Tara hadn’t expected. She stopped just in front of you both, looking down at the ground before lifting her eyes to meet Tara’s.

“Tara,” she said quietly, avoiding your eyes. “I owe you an apology. I should’ve believed you from the start. Amber—she did the same thing to me.” Tara blinked, surprised. “You were with Amber too?” Serena nodded, her voice trembling.

You could feel Tara’s grip on your arm tighten, the weight of the moment sinking in. It was clear that this wasn’t just an apology—this was Serena reaching out to Tara, extending a hand to show her that she wasn’t alone, that there was someone who understood the pain.

 “She manipulated me, made me feel crazy, like I was the problem. I didn’t see it until I left her. I saw how she treated you and… I didn’t speak up. I’m sorry for that.” Tara stared at her, processing her words. “I didn’t know… I thought it was just me.”

“I know. I should’ve been there for you,” Serena said. “But I believe you, Tara. Amber’s abuse wasn’t your fault.” Tara’s shoulders slumped, relief and confusion mixing in her eyes. “Thank you. I.. I’m glad you’re saying this.”

Serena gave a soft nod. “I’m here for you, anytime. You’re not alone.”

As Serena walked away, Tara exhaled deeply, her grip on you loosening. The weight wasn’t gone, but knowing Serena understood made the burden a little lighter.

-

It’s been a few weeks since Tara had the courage to start attending school again, and while the halls still felt heavy, there was a noticeable shift in her. The whispers had faded to a dull murmur, and the judgmental stares were fewer, replaced with something a bit more tolerable—curiosity, or maybe even a touch of guilt from those who had doubted her.

Tara had slowly begun to rebuild herself, day by day. With Mindy, Chad, and even Serena’s unexpected support, she had started to find the strength to face the world again. But every step forward came with its own challenge. Some days were harder than others, and the scars from Amber’s abuse weren’t so easily erased. Yet, Tara was determined to keep moving forward, and even though she wasn’t sure what the future held, she knew she wasn’t as alone as she once believed.

There were still moments of fear, of panic, but each time she faced them, it was a little easier to breathe. With you by her side, offering quiet support, she was starting to believe that maybe—just maybe—she could reclaim her life.

Tara knew she had to go back to her house to retrieve a few things. Her mind raced with memories of Amber, of the chaos and control, but there were still some items left behind that she needs—it would be a mixture of both closure and necessity. The thought of stepping foot inside her old home made her stomach turn, but she knew she couldn’t leave everything behind forever. Tara had spent too long running, too long living in fear. It was time to take those final steps—gathering her things, locking the door behind her, and finally letting go of the past that still haunted her.

She wasn’t sure if she could face it alone, but she didn’t want to burden anyone. Still, the idea of returning to the house she once called home left her feeling vulnerable and anxious. She looked over at you, a soft vulnerability in her eyes, unsure of how to ask for help without seeming weak. “I... I need to go back to my house, just to get a few things. I don't think I can do it by myself."

You immediately reassured her, “You don’t have to do this alone. I’ll go with you.” Tara let out a quiet breath of relief, her shoulders relaxing. “I didn’t want to ask, but I don’t think I can handle it by myself.”

“I’m here for you, always,” you said, offering a gentle smile. “We’ll go together, take whatever you need, and leave. You don’t have to face it alone.”

Tara gave a small nod, her nerves still present but now softened by your support. “Okay. Let’s go.” And with that, the two of you set out, ready to face the past together, step by step.

Several minutes later, you both arrived at Tara’s old house. The familiar sight of it made her pause, a knot tightening in her stomach. The house that once felt like home now felt like a prison—a place filled with too many memories she wasn’t ready to face. You could sense the vulnerability in Tara’s posture as she stepped into the house, the weight of the moment settling over her. You didn’t want to intrude on something so private, so important to her, but you also wanted to be there if she needed support.

“I’ll stay in the car,” you suggested softly, giving her space. “Take your time. I’m right here if you need me.”

Tara glanced back at you, her eyes filled with gratitude, though the fear was still there. “Thank you,” she whispered, her voice shaky. “I don’t know if I can do this, but... I’ll try.”

You gave her a reassuring nod as she stepped inside, the door closing softly behind her. You remained in the car, your heart with her, knowing that no matter how long it took, you’d be here when she was ready to leave.

Just as she left the walkway, you saw a sketchy black car across the street. The engine was idle, and a chill ran down your spine. You couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. You quickly glanced at the house, knowing Tara was inside. Your protective instinct kicked in. Without thinking, you got out of the car and headed toward the house, your pace quickening.

Inside, Tara was gathering a few of her things when she heard the faint sound of footsteps behind her. She turned, her blood running cold when she saw Amber standing there, leaning against the doorway with that familiar, malicious smirk on her face.

“You didn’t really think you could get away, did you?” Amber’s voice was low and taunting. She stepped into the room, her eyes glinting with a dangerous edge. “I still have a key, remember?” She stepped forward, her fingers tracing the edge of the doorframe where she had forced Tara to give her the spare key long ago

Before she could react, you burst through the door, your body tense with fury. “Get away from her!” you shouted, stepping between them. Amber’s eyes widened in surprise, but she quickly sneered, taking a threatening step forward. But you didn’t give her the chance. In one swift motion, you grabbed her by the wrist, slamming her hard against the wall with a sickening thud. Amber gasped, her eyes wide with shock, but you weren’t done. Your fist shot out, connecting with her jaw in a brutal punch that made her head snap back, her body jerking from the force of it. You stomped on the leg that you injured a few weeks ago, making her groan in agony.

Tara gasped, her eyes wide, but the sight of Amber recoiling, clutching her cheek, was like a weight lifting off her chest. You didn’t wait for Amber to recover; you shoved her roughly back against the wall, your hand still gripping her wrist.

“Stay the hell away from her. I don’t care who you think you are,” you growled, your voice cold and deadly. Amber’s eyes flickered with fury, but she was too stunned to fight back properly. Tara stood frozen, watching, feeling a strange mix of fear and relief. Amber spat, her glare venomous. “This isn’t over,” she hissed, trying to regain her composure, but you tightened your grip and stepped closer, your gaze unflinching.

Amber’s breathing grew heavy, but she knew she was outmatched. With one last look of hatred, she wrenched herself away and stormed out of the house, limping while slamming the door behind her. As the house grew quiet again, Tara exhaled shakily, still trembling from the confrontation. You turned to her, your chest heaving, but you gave her a steady, comforting look. 

“She’s gone. Shit—I’m sorry, I knew I should’ve—“ Before you could complete your sentence, Tara rushed into your arms, wrapping her arms tightly around you. She buried her face into your chest, her body shaking, her breath uneven.

“No,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “Don’t apologize. I... I needed that.” Her words were muffled against you, but you could feel the tension leaving her as she clung to you. “I was so scared... but now... I don’t feel so alone.”

You held her tighter, your hands gently rubbing her back as you spoke softly, “You’re not alone, Tara. I’ll always be here. Always.”

Tara nodded, her grip loosening slightly but her face still pressed against you. The world outside felt distant now, the past they’d just confronted fading into the background. What mattered now was the quiet, steady promise that she was safe—here, with you.

-----------

a/n: I'm kind of forcing myself to write longer fics, and I hope this isn't too draggy and boring for u guys. feedback is appreciated :)

[holylulusworld]

How to cure a grump (2)

Summary: You’re losing your job on Christmas.

Pairing: CEO/Boss!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, grumpy Bucky, awful boss, mistaken identity, kinda fake dating trope, snowed-in trope

How to cure a grump (1)

James Buchanan Barnes, or Bucky to his friends, prides himself on not being a petty man. He believes in second chances. So, when storms toward his private jet, he tries not to be too angry.

One day before Christmas he must fly across the country to find a missing employee. Or rather, ex-employee.

Bucky grits his teeth, barely acknowledging the petite blonde welcoming him with a French accent. He always had a thing for French women or women in general.

Today, he doesn’t care, too angry at you for spending Christmas with your parents and not waiting for his call.

“That woman! The audacity! How dare she block my number!” He’s fuming. If this was a cartoon, steam would come out of his ears.

Bucky barks orders at the pilot and the stewardess before sitting down. He hates Christmas and everything that comes with it. From the cheery attitude to exchanging gifts. James Buchanan Barnes is the Grinch in flesh and blood.

“You’ve got to be shitting me.” Bucky loses his temper for a second, or like, ever. He glares at the poor girl telling him there’s only one left at the car rental. “I wanted an SUV, not a fucking truck.”

“Sir,” the girl sniffles, “I reserved the best car for you. It’s the Christmas season, and it's difficult to even rent out a car. We are booked out for months.”

“I don’t care! Is that how you do business?”

“Sir, I must ask you to lower your voice,” the owner of the car rental steps in. “We did our utmost to find another car for you. It’s the only one left. Take it or leave it. If you want to walk, it’s fine by me.”

Bucky grits his teeth. He’d love to go at the man like a missile but doesn’t have the time. If he wants to find your house, get the password, and leave within two hours to fly back to New York, he must swallow his pride and accept one defeat for today.

“Fine,” he growls at the man. “I’ll take that one.”

Bucky is beyond pissed. No one in your sleepy little hometown wants to tell him where you are living, or rather your parents. On top of all, his feet are hurting from running around town for hours.

He cracks his neck before entering the bakery, his last hope.

Bucky opens the door, forcing it to swing open. The little bell above the door rings, catching the other customers' attention. Your former boss, in his expensive slacks, coat, and slippers, sticks out like a sore thumb.

“Good day, Sir,” the owner chirps. She’s a short woman in her early fifties, wearing a brown mini dress shaped like a gingerbread man cookie, with icing details and colorful candy accents. It has a slightly flared skirt and appears to have a tulle underskirt. “What can I do for you?” We have a special offer for Christmas-themed cupcakes and muffins. Or do you prefer classic gingerbread cookies?”

“I’m looking for someone,” Bucky cuts her off. “Y/N Y/L/N. I think she’s at her parents’ house.”

“OH! OH! You must be the handsome fiancé she was hiding for so long!” The owner rounds the corner to wrap Bucky in a hug. He stiffens, not used to unwanted affection from strangers. “But… didn’t you come with her?”

“I—I,” Bucky stammers. If he tells the owner the truth, she’ll not tell him where your parents are living. “Work kept me busy last minute.”

“—and now you came here to surprise her,” she concludes, and Bucky doesn’t correct her. What else can he do? “Wait, I’ll write her address down. And, oh, you must take some of the cupcakes and cookies with you. They are on the house.”

All the women in the bakery sigh. They believe the handsome man in his expensive clothes came to surprise you on Christmas.

Well, in a way, he will surprise you.

“Mom, I’ll go and pick up the things you ordered. Do you need anything else?” You call for your mother, already halfway out of the house. “Mom?”

“Can you bring some cupcakes and cookies from Aunt Y/A/N’s bakery? Bread too. We don’t need to bake it this year. She offered to bake mine at the bakery!”

“Sure thing, Mom. Anything else? We don’t want to forget something, especially with the approaching snowstorm.”

“No, I got everything else, Munchkin. We will survive for at least three weeks or more with all the things in the pantry. You can stay for months if you want to.”

“Mom,” you sigh. Since you told her about your boss and that you lost your job, she offered you half of the house. She already talked to people in town. Within not three hours, you got four job offers. “We can talk about it after the holidays.”

“That’s not a no,” she coos. “You know, I’d love to have my Munchkin back at home.”

You smile because your mom means well and loves you unconditionally, but you know moving back home is not an option. After the holidays, you will attend a few job interviews. You already had a look at a few free positions and applied to them.

“I’ll be back soon, Mom. Call me if you need something else.”

“Coming,” your mom coos as someone impatiently rings the doorbell. She carries a plate with cookies toward the door, assuming it’s one of the neighbor’s kids. “What can I do for you?”

She opens the door, meeting stormy blue eyes. Bucky looks her up and down, humming as she’s the spitting image of you. “Mrs. Y/L/N,” he clears his throat, “I’m looking for your daughter, Y/N. I know it’s a busy time, but I need to talk to her.”

“Wait—” Your mother sizes Bucky up while trying to remember the picture you sent her some months back. The one of you and the guy you dated for a few months before he broke things up with you. “You must be…” She struggles to remember the name you gave her too.

“James,” Bucky offers, and holds out his hand. He chuckles as your mother is still holding a plate with cookies in her hands. “Sorry, can I help you with that?”

“Where are my manners!” She gasps. “It’s freezing, and you are standing on my front porch. Come in and get warm. Y/N is picking up some groceries for me. She’ll be back soon. Do you want coffee, tea, or hot chocolate?”

Bucky reluctantly enters your mother’s house. He looks around before taking off his coat. His hands are ice cold thanks to the lack of hand gloves, and he cannot deny that he doesn’t feel his feet any longer.

“Yeah, the weather caught me cold,” Bucky and your mother chuckle at his bad wordplay. He takes off his shoes to wiggle his toes. “I didn’t expect the snow to be so…persistent.”

“We get lots of snow at this time of the year,” your mother says while preparing a hot beverage for Bucky. “Do you want some cookies too, or a sandwich maybe?”

“That’s too kind,” Bucky says. He doesn’t want to risk getting kicked out of your mother’s house. He’ll be waiting patiently for you to return, get the password, and be on his way.

You hurriedly get inside the house. The snowstorm already arrived, and you barely made it back to the house. “Mom, I’m back,” you call for your mother. “I guess we won’t be able to get in town anytime soon.”

“Munchkin,” your mother calls from the living room. “We have company. Can you come here?”

You frown. The last thing you need after fighting your way through snow masses is neighbors wanting to catch up with you. You love them, but explaining that you lost your job is something you don’t want to do again and again.

“Coming,” you take off your boots, coat, scarf, and hand gloves before walking into the living room. You suck in a breath watching your former boss get comfortable on your mother’s couch, a cup of hot chocolate in his hands.

“Look! He came to see you for Christmas.” Your mother gets up to give you and your “boyfriend” time. She still doesn’t know he’s your boss, or now ex-boss, not the guy breaking up with you weeks ago. “You can catch up while I take care of the groceries you got.”

Speechless, you watch your mother leave the room. “What are you doing here?” You spat at your former boss the moment your mother was out of sight. “How dare you come here to bug my mother!”

“She invited me in,” he dares to say. Bucky shrugs as you look at him, murder in your eyes. “I think she confused me with some other guy. She mentioned a boyfriend or fiancé.”

Huffing, you cross your arms over your chest. “Not even close,” you snap at him. “I was seeing someone, but my mom knows that it didn’t work out. What did you tell her? Did you lie to her?”

“Whoa, calm down,” he slowly gets up. “I’m here because you forgot to reset the password. I cannot access the files.”

“What?” You cock a brow. “I left my current password and the PIN to reset the password along with my keys. I gave them to the security, as suggested by Mr. Rogers the day I left.”

“Mr. Rogers—” Bucky huffs. “That punk! That goddamn motherfucker let me fly down here to get the password and knew you left it?”

“Problem solved,” you grunt and point toward the door. “If you’d leave me the fuck alone now. It’s almost Christmas, and the last thing I need is for my mom to believe you are the guy I dated!”

“Munchkin, will your boyfriend stay for Christmas? Do you want the guestroom to have more privacy?” You love your mother dearly, but right now, you’d love to tell her to shut up. “Y/N?”

“No!” You say. “He will fly back and spend Christmas in New York.”

“Oh, Munchkin, I don’t think he can,” your mother says while walking back inside the living room. She shows you her phone. “See, all airports are closed, and the streets are, well, you know the streets in winter. “I think James is stuck here.” She smiles softly while you start to sweat.

“I think he’d prefer a hotel!” You are quick to reply. “Right, James.” You clear your throat and furrow your brows. “You want to sleep at a hotel.”

“Nonsense,” your mother insists. “We have more than enough space. Let’s get his luggage inside before it gets even colder. I’m sure he’s tired and needs a rest.”

“Mrs. Y/L/N, I appreciate the offer, but I’ll go to a hotel,” Bucky jumps in, wanting nothing more than to get out of your mother’s house.

“All hotels are booked up. I talked to Mrs. Brock yesterday. There are no free rooms left. Your boyfriend can sleep here,” your mother chuckles. “I know you are all grown, Munchkin.” She kisses your cheek before leaving the room.

Awkward silence spreads through the room. You look at your boss, the man ruining Christmas and your career for you within a few seconds. “Why didn’t you tell her?” He asks.

“Why didn’t you tell her?” You throw your hands up. Dropping another bomb at your mom is the last thing you want. Maybe she forgot that you told her about the breakup some weeks ago.

“Uh—you know, I wanted the password and feared she’d kick me out getting to know I’m your boss.”

“Ex-boss,” you point out. Putting your hands on your hips, you huff. “Okay, we will survive one night. You’ll sleep in the guestroom, and tomorrow morning we will find a way to get you out of my hometown.”

“Good,” Bucky mutters.

“Good,” you snap at him before storming out of the room.

More tags in reblog.

@cjand10, @nofingjustaninchident, @pettyjayy

[konpeitonom]

Whenever you have a second can we PLEASE get some Girl dad curly HCS? I feel like he'd be like Bandit from bluey as a father :)

- 🎺 anon

captain grant curly as your dad.

sfw— lowercase intended ^_^

fem reader—

requests are open and heavily encouraged, i write for every mw character ^.^

notes; reader is quite young here, im assuming no older than 6th grade, but intended for maybe.. a 3rd-4th grader? lmk if you wanna see him as like a dad for a teen/young adult 🎺 anon!

— extra, extra kind to you when he has to leave you for long business trips. knows you absolutely hate it. i mean, he’s missing christmas! new years! maybe even your birthday! (i assume that once he’s a dad, he’ll avoid taking trips longer than a year- only if it’s possible)

— his heart breaks a little when you playfully punch at his chest, crying about how he’s leaving again. part of him wants to quit, but obviously he can’t..

— speaking of birthdays.. he would go through hell and back to make sure you get what you want (as long as it’s reasonably priced, of course) a sold out toy? he’s willing to buy it overpriced on some resale site. there’s no way his girl is going to be disappointed on her own birthday.

— goes all out. and does what you want. if you wanna invite your friends, have a sleepover? that’s fine by him. or if you’re a more introverted, quiet kid, just a small celebration with family is fine. maybe even a weekend trip. whatever it is you want, just say the word. makes up for past birthdays he’s missed!

— reunions are the best.. after a week of rest, he’ll be sure to spend all his time with you. he knows how much you missed him.

— helps you out with homework.. prepares snacks at the kitchen table. like your favorite fruits, some gummy bears. fidget toys to help you concentrate. he tries so hard to just not give you the answers, do your homework for you.. he doesn’t, but he’s tempted!

— takes you to/picks you up from school whenever possible. gets to know your teachers and stuff. very active in your education. his parents were great, but i assume weren’t too present within his school life (being in the wrong crowd, and stuff- jimmy being an example) so he makes sure you’re doing a-okay!

— he doesn’t wanna be the kind of dad that’s just work, work, work. it’s his job to take care of his girl too.. he’d feel a lot of guilt if his spouse was taking care of you more than 70% of the time anyway (if he was home). just because he provides financially, doesn’t excuse him from dad work.

— fights the urges to spoil you.. he’s not the richest, but he does have disposable income. and if it’s just gonna sit there in his bank account, why not spend some to make his girl happy? his spouse hates it, you're already spoiled enough as it is.

— very up to date with all your interests. he’d get sad though watching you move on to something more geared towards older kids, like.. you’re growing up so fast! and what a blessing it is to watch in real time..

— loves taking you on little dad-daughter dates. like a day out at the beach, or just at a park. one on one time is important! and he loves hearing all the gossip you have about your friends, school. he doesn’t wanna fit into the stereotype of dads knowing nothing that goes on in your everyday life.

— bakes with you once a week. usually a sunday. just a little treat for you, along with bonding time. if he’s busy, he’ll get you ice cream or a chocolate bar before he comes home. he tries to sneak in vegetables or some form of protein, but as you get older you call him out on that..

— avoids box mixes, likes to make things from scratch. sometimes shows you how to bake bread, and stuff. it’s a good life skill!

— keeps fit, we know this.. encourages you to run with him. he likes his alone time, but teaching you good habits come first and foremost! tries not to be too overbearing though.

— he used to place you on his chest and cuddle with you as watched tv together. as you got older he stopped as to not embarrass you, but he would shed a few tears if you ask to- or initiated it. seeing you grow up is just so sad for him! you’ll always be his little girl, even when you’re 50 and balding,

[lottiesviolence]

Role Model - Pt.1

Warning: 18+, poor needy reader, Softdom!Sev, Sub!femreader, Sev calls the shots, you just look dumb and pretty, boot humpin/dry humpin, desperate reader, pet names, slight squirting

A/n: I’m back to writing disgusting fics about my wife, some parts inspired by the song Role Model by Brent Faiyaz (listen to it and i hope you get the vision, Sev definitely had this song in her playlist)

Synopsis: You’re just so fucking desperate for Sevika

♡♠︎♡♠︎♡♠︎♡♠︎♡♠︎♡♠︎♡♠︎♡♠︎♡♠︎♡♠︎♡♠︎♡♠︎♡♠︎

You always looked up to Sevika, literally, not only was she so cool and tough but she always towered over you when you guys spoke.

“How’s the day treating you pretty?” She would greet when you crossed paths, soft smirk on her lips, eyes down on you.

You’d get all hot, hating the feeling of being obsessed but that’s exactly what you were.

While on your shift in The Last Drop you prayed she walked through the doors, pray she’d be in the mood for a drink or a game or two. You’d watch as she spat insults to the guys she played cards with, how the room would go silent when she walked in, how her body tensed and eyes would hang low when she was pissed. Your eyes never left her, lingering across her body, her arm, her thighs, her hands. You wanted her to take you on every surface you could think of, just to be hers for a day, following her every command with submission. You’d kill for it.

“What’s on your mind girl?” Sev said as she pulled up a chair for you.

“Sit”

You sat, not questioning a thing, realizing that you now switched roles. Sev took your place behind the counter, pouring you a drink, blunt hanging off her lips.

“Oh nothing much, business a little slow today so I have time to daydream” You said smiling as you watched smoke dance in the air.

Sev slid the drink to you, then rested her folded arms against the counter, leaning into you closely. “Yeah? Not all a shame it’s dead in here, more room for us.”

Your hand laid still on the cold glass, eyes stuck on the floating ice cubes. You hid the fact that your entire body was aching and desperate for her, but you had no idea how to move with her, how to flirt, what to say, what to do. You were nothin but a desperate mess.

“How come you’re in today? Not in the mood for beating up some assholes?” You mustered up, downing the alcohol hoping it would give you some confidence.

Sevika laughed softly. “Nah not today, don’t get me wrong i’m loyal but theres certain runs that don’t cut it, if the shit don’t involve money I’m off it.”

You laughed at her honesty, you never seen her talk to anyone like this before.

“Anyone ever told you that your laugh is just as pretty as you?” Sev said slowly taking the glass from your hands.

“Look at me pretty” Her thumb brought your chin up, making you look into her eyes.

“There she is” she said pleased as ever.

“Sevika.. I-”

“Come with me” She commanded.

You locked up the bar and followed her with no hesitation, after a while you began to question where she could be taking you until she stuck her key in a lock, holding the door open for you.

“Make yourself at home”

“This is your place?” Your eyes widened at the thought of being in Sevika’s house.

You looked around taking in everything, she had a nice way of decorating, a pretty big couch, vases with dead flowers, a pile of rings she would wear sometimes rested on her coffee table, busted smoke detector on her ceiling. Her place was naturally dim, few shimmer lava lamps hummed in every room.

You stood in the living room admiring all her things, she took a seat on the couch letting out a huff, spreading her legs ever so slightly.

Sevika’s eyes trailed all over you, she watched the curiosity linger on your face, she saw how much you wanted to know about her. Dark lips clenched on a blunt as her eyes traced your shape, your hips and soft thighs, how your skirt was just so short.

“Come here” She said softly.

You walked over to her slowly, eyes resting on her strong thighs as she sat relaxed.

“Yes?” Innocence in your voice.

Sevika blew out a line of smoke, soft grin on her lips.

“Can you get on your knees for me?”

Without question you lowered yourself, sweet face so close to her knees, you looked up at her waiting for what she would say next. Watching her made your panties soak, she was so big everywhere, so dominant, the way her hair fell to her face, you ached for her.

“Sev.. I think you’re really pretty too” Your eyes looked up at her with plea as you rested your head on her knee, you shifted your body slightly, cunt pressing against the tip of her boot.

“Yeah? well aren’t you a sweetheart, you look good down there”

You shuffled your hips softly, begging for the friction of her boot, your hips bucked when your clit grazed against its leather.

Sevika looked down at you, she knew exactly what you were doing. Soft grin on her face as she raised her boot ever so slightly for you.

You let out a low sigh, letting an arm wrap around her calf. Slick pierced out of your clothed cunt as you humped against the friction.

“Such a desperate girl, does it feel good for you sweetheart?” The bigger woman asked lowly.

“Mmh so good” You wined, pressing your face against her knee, you were so embarrassed, but you couldn’t stop, not when it felt so fucking good.

Sevika pressed her boot up more ever so slightly causing your breath to hitch and soft moans leave your sweet lips.

“Is this your first time pleasing yourself?”

You shook your head against her knee, unable to show your shy face.

Sev leaned forward just a bit, getting a better look at your state.

“Oh? You’ve felt this good before hun? How was that, tell me what you did.” She teased.

You were hesitant but worried if you didn’t respond she’d move her boot.

“Sometimes at night I would grind my pillow.. or rub my clit” You said with hitches in your breath.

“Yeah? and what’d you think about?”

“You.. all the time.. It didn’t matter, your fingers.. your thighs.. your face..I always came the hardest when I thought of you” Your hips dragged and moved at a faster pace as she spoke to you.

Sevika grabbed the side of your face away from her knee, seeing your desperate face better.. Your face was blushed, drunken, pleading eyes looking up at her. “It doesn’t feel as good as the real thing though, huh?”

“N..no, having you here feels better” Both of your arms wrapped around her calf as you moved your hips faster, wet cunt making small squelches on her leather.

“Mmhf, so close Sev... can I.. is it okay?” You begged as your swollen clit pulsed.

“Can you what, pretty?”

“Can I cum? Is it okay if I cum on your boot miss? Please let me” You whined, you were over the edge, so close to letting it all go but you waited for her command, that dictated everything.

“Cum for me, you’ve been so good honey” Sevika said holding your face up as she watched your orgasm wash over you, how your eyes fluttered and brows furrowed tightly. You finished your last of grinding as your mess trickled over her boot pooling onto the floor.

Sevika helped you up and grabbed your waist, sitting you on her lap.“You’re so pretty when you cum for me, come, we can finish this upstairs”

Your thighs trembled a bit “I’m a bit nervous, I’ve never done anything more than just this...”

She kissed her hand “That’s okay pretty, I’ll be your role model”

♠︎♡♠︎♡♠︎♡♠︎♡♠︎♡♠︎♡♠︎♡♠︎♡♠︎♡♠︎♡♠︎♡♠︎♡♠︎♡

a/n: AHHHhHHHhHH So happy to write fics again, finals week had me busy but I’m back and ovulating, we are SO back, this one is a bit short but pt2 will be hotter and longer, hope you guys are doing well! Sorry if I'm a bit rusty 😩

[whateverisbeautiful]

I love waking up and reading your Richonne posts. You pretty much hit on every scene and I am so thankful for that.

Could you go over maybe a 2 part take of what you think had happened during the months of them getting to know each other during the prison times. Also, the months they got close together in Alexandria before they became official. Since, the show robbed of us seeing those scenes. I would love to hear your detailed theory on it because you know these two characters so well!

A 2-parter? You’re speaking my language, anon. 😋 Thank you for this message. 🙏🏽 And for some reason my mind read this ask and added in “a detailed play-by-play” of what I think happened and so that’s pretty much what I ended up writing. Starting with Part One - the time in between Seasons 3 and 4 at the prison that led to Rick and Michonne being like this in the season 4 premiere ⬇️💗:

I always like to think about what specific context from the actual show could most inform these type of unseen scenarios and then shape what I envision from there. So I first started thinking about where Rick and Michonne landed in the season 3 finale. 

If I remember correctly they both rode in the car together after saying their goodbyes to Andrea, and Daryl drove the bus. I feel like that car ride might have laid another small stepping stone toward growing Rick and Michonne’s fondness for each other. I don’t imagine that they even talked much in the car because it was a somber vibe after losing Andrea. But I can picture Rick seeing Michonne quietly emotional in the car, and for reasons he’s not fully aware of yet seeing her upset affects him and his want to comfort her is stronger than he’d expect.

I can picture something like when they pull up to the prison after Woodbury, Rick just lets her know that Andrea isn’t the only one who thinks it’s good that Michonne found them. And the silence after is so clearly his “I’m glad too.” But you know how back then Rick tended to say something that felt like it was almost going to be a profession about his fondness for her but then he’d sorta retreat - I think he’d do that and just add that they all are glad she’s with them. And Michonne would just give an appreciative smile and walk away because she’d still be pretty heartbroken over losing yet another person she cared about. 

Then I think going forward, that loss, on top of the loss of her boyfriend and baby, makes Michonne maintain a friendly distance from everyone in team family for a while. Like she’s always keeping herself busy by independently tending to tasks that help around the prison, going on runs, and trying to track down The Governor. But Rick still keeps an eye on her from afar.

And if I remember correctly, because it’s been a minute since I’ve watched these seasons, Rick and Michonne both weren’t members of that new committee that was formed. So I can imagine that maybe there were times when some of the other people closest to them were in meetings or away which may have prompted Rick and Michonne to chat a bit more - but still keeping it light and brief, not having extended conversations yet. Perhaps both would find themselves observing each other at times - Michonne seeing Rick out farming, Rick seeing Michonne out taking down walkers around the prison’s perimeter. Except maybe not watching her with binoculars this time lol.

Then, going off of info from s4, I think during these months that we didn’t see something that might’ve slowly but surely made Michonne lessen some of her lone wolf ways is when Daryl asks her to join him on runs. She agrees to go with him and they build a friendship.

And then whenever Michonne is back at the prison she starts getting closer to Carl too because they bond over things like books and comics. And perhaps Michonne and Carl especially bond when she brings back a bag of candy for him after one of her runs. They share some together and learn Michonne doesn’t mind the stale M&M's, and that becomes a running joke between them. 😊

So with Michonne getting closer to two of the people closest to Rick - Carl and Daryl - that starts bringing Rick and Michonne around each other more often too in a more social context. And this is where that crush we saw had clearly formed by the s4 premiere really starts taking root.

Like Michonne and Carl build this really natural, lighthearted, playful rapport and then it leads to Michonne lightly joking with Rick too. I picture that Rick is a bit bashful around her but they still occasionally have that flirty subtle-but-not-subtle “must’ve been something else then”/“you want to drive” type exchanges.

And Daryl definitely peeps these moments at times and knows you don’t even have to be an observant tracker to pick up on the stuff between Rick and Michonne. But he keeps those observations to himself...for the most part lol.

Michonne has playful banter with Daryl too but subconsciously she can feel that her exchanges with Rick feel different. And Rick loves it whenever Michonne spends time with them around the prison. It feels like family. 

Other TWD scenes that I think give a glimpse into what that time between s3 and s4 might've looked like are when Rick asks if she’s okay after she hurts her ankle, and when Rick washes up and asks if Michonne needs help with cleaning up those walker bodies. Lots of exchanges like that going on. Showing they care and like each other but are moving slowly toward really getting close.

And through these exchanges - of which it’s rarely ever just the two of them in private because Carl or people are usually always around - Rick and Michonne start to pick up on more and more things they like about each other.

I like to imagine that perhaps whenever the community had some downtime in the evenings or nights, it’d so often end up being Michonne, Carl, and Rick hanging around each other. With Judith there too sometimes, who Michonne seems to keep this subtle distance from as the baby triggers too painful a wound. 

But when Michonne starts to really care for them and feels herself getting closer to them - finding herself thinking about Rick and Carl while on runs and looking forward to their little exchanges - she starts going out further and further to look for the Governor - and subconsciously, part of that is to distance herself.

Rick isn’t crazy about her going off alone to find a certified madman but only really shows his disagreement in facial expression and maybe an occasional remark to Daryl about how he wants her to be safe. (And Daryl knows Rick wants that and more when it comes to Michonne, ijs.).

Maybe one time Rick does mention to Michonne that she doesn’t have to go out so much or so far but she’s adamant that it is something she has to do - hence why she makes that “It’s worth a shot" comment when she’s talking to Rick and Daryl in the s4 premiere.

She might already know Rick feels a type of way about her going on these missions cuz he briefly mentioned it before (and because he can't help but wear his emotions right on his face lol), but her subconscious also knows that staying around Rick too long is too vulnerable and wakes up too much within her that she thought died a while ago. 

Finally, I picture that there’s one night when Rick, Michonne, and Carl are just enjoying some downtime chatting together as usual but then either Carl falls asleep or somehow he leaves to talk with one of the kids around the prison and it’s a rare moment where it’s just Rick and Michonne together.

And that night they start talking on a more personal level. They don’t divulge their life stories or anything because I don’t think they really deep-dived into getting to know each other like that until the second half of season 4. But in this conversation, they do open up just a bit more and give more insight into how they think and operate, which they refreshingly find to be quite similar. And in the areas they learn that they’re different - they find that refreshing too.

And I like to think that their talk on this one night was one of those things where -  you know how people say they were conversing with their person in the early stages of getting to know them and they just never wanted the moment to end and they could have stayed talking to that person forever and damn near do talk to them for more hours than they realized? It was like that. 

Rick and Michonne both know in the deeper parts of their psyche that spending that time together just felt right. Falling for each other is still something they're doing subconsciously rather than cognizantly at this point, but what they are aware of is that they do enjoy each other a lot. And how right it feels to spend time with each other also subconsciously scares them a bit. Almost like it’s too right too fast. So those walls go right back up after that conversation ends and they don’t really get a chance to talk on that personal of a level again until the prison falls.

Even though deep down both of them really would like to have that time together again, and low-key Rick is so eager for another chance to just be around her like that, that just hearing her riding back from one of her outings has him springing up from his farming session with Hershel in order to run and greet her and ask if she’s going to stay a little while. 

And that’s my take on what I think happened between Richonne in the time between season 3 and season 4. 👌🏽😌

And Anon, you know you’ve tempted me with a good time by asking to have a part two about the time between No Way Out and Richonne’s canon episode The Next World. So I'll try and have a (possibly less lengthy 😅) Part Two on the way soon. 😊

[youhideastar]

Fangs of Fortune: A Primer

I keep hoping someone funnier or better with images than me will write a primer for this show, but I haven’t seen it yet, so it’s looking like I’m going to have to be the propaganda I want to see in the world.

Fangs of Fortune is a 34.5-episode drama that takes place in Ancient Fantasy China, split between the human world and the Wilderness (home of the yao/demons). You can watch it on iQiyi or YouTube. There will be some spoilers below, mostly for early episodes; photos here are from official production stills/promos. As far as I can tell, Fangs of Fortune is a (successful) attempt to get a m/m romantic pairing past the censors by giving the dudes a(n also-queer) female love interest as well, which is neat. The show cares way more about the characters than about the plot, so I’m going to follow suit, starting with…

Zhao Yuanzhou, a.k.a. Zhu Yan

30,000-year-old suicidal Great Demon with suave DILF energy, sky-high self-confidence, and rock-bottom self-worth. 8 years before the show opens, he was possessed by malicious energy and killed a ton of people, including the only living relatives (father and brother) of this guy:

Zhuo Yichen

24-year-old swordsman and demon hunter (head of the Demon Hunting Bureau, in fact), who wears the most beautiful costumes of all time, has sworn to avenge his family, and happens to be in possession of the only weapon that can kill the aforementioned Great Demon Zhao Yuanzhou—if only he knew how to use it.

On the dynamic between Zhao Yuanzhou and Zhuo Yichen, which is the driving force of this show, I can’t do better than this post and this post – please go read them, you will not regret it. In the meantime, please enjoy some homoerotic violent hand-holding.

Zhao Yuanzhou shows up at the Demon Hunting Bureau very sexily and offers to teach Zhuo Yichen to use said weapon, if Zhuo Yichen will (a) swear to kill him with it once they’re done, and (b) in the meantime, let Zhao Yuanzhou join the demon hunting crew. Specifically, he demands to be paired up with this lady:

Wen Xiao

Scholar, demon hunter, Zhuo Yichen’s sort-of foster sister, and technically the Baize Goddess, guardian of the Wilderness… but when her predecessor as Baize Goddess died, she couldn’t complete the transfer of her powers to Wen Xiao, leaving Wen Xiao unable to do the job, and sickly to boot. Wen Xiao compensates by being smarter, more socially adept, and more mentally healthy than everyone else in this cast… although I will grant that’s a low bar to clear.

While recruiting a crew to go after a pesky water demon, Wen Xiao runs into…

Pei Sijing

Stoic archer who recently retired from demon-hunting after she had to kill her own brother; target of Wen Xiao’s very persistent affections.

Here they are being cute together:

Congratulations, you have now met the polycule! There are also two comic-relief teenagers (with obligatory difficult backstories) and two villains, one of whom is boring and will be ignored, and one of whom is Zhao Yuanzhou’s human-hating mall goth demon ex-boyfriend Li Lun, as seen below:

There is not really an overarching plot: in general, the plot is driven by the desire to get Wen Xiao fully powered-up as the Baize Goddess so that she can fix stuff that has gone wrong in the Wilderness, but after a certain point, most plot arcs are driven by problems caused in the previous plot arc. The writers are way more invested in putting the characters in Situations that will crunch them up against each other in interesting ways than in having a coherent plot or worldbuilding. Fortunately, they are very good at writing these characters reacting to each other in Situations, so it works out.

Why should you watch this show? First, it is delightfully gay and there is great fic for it, which you will get more out of if you’re familiar with canon (but don’t let that stop you from diving in now…). Second, the writers are really good at building compelling relationships between characters, romantic and otherwise, and in particular, they have a gift for writing two-character dialogue scenes and cute banter. Third, damn, this is maybe the most visually beautiful show I’ve ever seen in my life. The costumes, in particular, are unbelievable.

Are there downsides? Yeah, candidly, you are going to spend a chunk of the first third of the show sitting through long flashbacks that I call The Ponderous Tragic Backstories of the Het Guest Stars when all you want to do is get back to the main characters. Don’t worry, the whole show is not like this. It happens four times (three toward the beginning and once toward the end). And at least even the Ponderous Tragic Backstories of the Het Guest Stars are still very pretty to look at.

Anyway – check it out! Ask me if you have questions! Correct me if I goofed on anything! See you in Queer Poly Ancient Fantasy China!

(Edited to correct the number of episodes, thank you, @kandadze!)

[francisofthespook]

Daryl SFW Alphabet !!

I'm leaving for a roadtrip tomorrow and idk how active I'll be so here's a little something I wrote today. Writing this def gave me some good ideas for some oneshots... :)

Words: 3,291 (including the prompts)

Warnings: None really, mostly fluff/ one teeny tiny little mention of suggestive content but it's literally like half a sentence/maybe some allusions to violence

Template from: https://the-coldest-goodbye.tumblr.com/sfw-template (@the-coldest-goodbye )

((I only proofread this once so I may go back in and edit it if I find any mistakes))

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

At first, Daryl, would be super affectionate, but only in private. He might interlock a pinky with you while you’re all around the campfire at the quarry and the farm, but when no one else is around he would be so mushy. Maybe later on, around the time they get to Alexandria and they begin to feel some safety and stability, he would be a bit more affectionate in public. He would place his hand on the small of your back and stand close to you while you talk to the Alexandrians to subtly let them know you were taken, and maybe he would kiss your temple before he or you went out on a run without the other.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

Daryl would be your best friend at first. He would always find a way to make you laugh, even if he wasn't really trying to. He would bring you little things he finds while he's out hunting like pretty flowers and rabbit's feet for good luck. He would always stick up for you when the group makes you feel like your suggestions are stupid. There would be a slight shift pretty soon into the friendship though where he realizes that he wants something more. He wouldn't say anything, he would wait for you to make the first move, or at least until he was pretty positive you felt the same way. He wouldn’t want to risk ruining your friendship if you didn't feel the same way. He would happily be your friend for the rest of your lives if that's all you could give him.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Y E S! Daryl loves cuddles, there is nothing that makes him feel more loved than at the end of the day, regardless where you are, when you guys lay down and you curl up into his arms. He would usually stay awake for a little longer than you to make sure that it was safe…( totally not because he loves watching how your face relaxes when you finally fall asleep…) (and definitely not because your little snores warm his heart so much…) (and for sure not because he is enamored by the cryptic mumbling you do in your sleep, always trying to stay as still and quiet as possible so he can try and decipher what you're saying…)

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

There is nothing Daryl wants more than to be able to settle down with you. But given the state of the world, it wouldn't be easy for a while. Sometimes at night, before you get to Alexandria, he would almost tear up watching you fold your clothes and arrange your shared tent, longing for some normalcy in this world so that he can just enjoy his life with you instead of having to fight for it every day.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

Early on in your relationship, Daryl might try to leave you a few times. Not because he has fallen out of love, but because he’s worried you're too good for him. He thinks so little of himself and that you deserve better than him. Sometimes just a small thing can trigger this thinking and he will go off into the woods for a while to try and work through his thoughts. But you always find him and tell him that you don’t want anyone else, only him. Once he finally feels comfortable enough in the relationship, there is absolutely nothing that can tear you apart. The only thing that would end the relationship, is if one of you dies.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Daryl had never envisioned himself settling down and getting married. But when you guys get together, he is so overwhelmed by his love for you that he kinda starts to want that. Of course, it isn't really a possibility now, but he would find you a ring one day while out on a run and bring it back to you. He would walk you down to the edge of the prison yard where no one can see you and lay with you in the grass for a while before he rolls over and gently grabs your wrist, lifting it up and slipping the ring onto your finger. “Daryl Dixon, are you proposing to me?” you would say in a smug tone. “Dun need a ring to know I’m yers, but thought it would look pretty on ya” You wouldn't say much after that, not wanting to ruin the moment. This world was filled with so many uncertainties that it was scary to get so close to someone. But at the same time, the ring would become a symbol to you of what you were fighting for, a world where you could just be safe and have a happy life with your partner.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Typically, Daryl is the biggest softie around you, ‘no’ is not a word in his vocabulary when it comes to you. He would be so careful with you that it almost sometimes frustrated you. But when it came to your safety, he would be a bit more firm, blatantly telling you ‘no’ when you ask to come on a riskier run. He would not take any chances, so sometimes he was a bit more rough when he really had to put his foot down. But you knew that he was only like that because he cared so much so it doesn’t really bother you.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Being hugged by Daryl would be one of your favorite things in the world. He would engulf your entire body like a warm blanket and hold you firmly close to him. He would always put one arm around your back, the other holding your head while he leaned his own into your shoulder. Sometimes he would gently rub your back in soothing circles while he embraced you and whisper sweet nothings into your ear when no one else was around.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

It would probably be a while before Daryl told you he loved you, but he would have known it for a long time before actually saying it. He would probably wait for you to say it first, not wanting to scare you off by making things more serious. As much as he would want to make a big deal about it, his anxiety would get the best of it and he would probably say it in passing one day, without bringing too much attention to it. 

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Only God himself could save someone from the wrath of a jealous Daryl. It was never something that he really had to deal with while you guys were on the road, maybe a few times here and there, but let's just say that the guys you ran into who made remarks won't ever make them again. When you get to Alexandria, he would have to reel in his rage a bit more, given these were people you would have to live with. But there would definitely be a few guys who suffered a fist to the face when they looked at you a certain way. The residents of Alexandria picked up pretty quickly that you were off-limits.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Daryl would kiss you alllll the time. He would kiss your head a lot since he’s much taller than you and there wasn't much privacy in the early days. You guys would never get into anything too passionate in public obviously, but behind closed doors, it was like he was the thirstiest man alive and you were the last drop of water left on earth. Before he would leave for a run he would hold the sides of your head with both hands and press a long kiss into your forehead before giving you a small peck on the lips. 

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

Children make Daryl a little uncomfortable at first. He never really knew how to act around them and what not to say. But over time he would grow very fond of Judith and RJ. When you guys get to the Commonwealth, you would basically adopt them. He would treat them like his own, playing with them when he had time off and reading them books in the evening. He wouldn’t want kids of his own, which was fine because you wouldn't either, but he would be more than happy being the appointed guardian of Rick's kids for the time being.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Much to your dismay, Daryl was a morning person. In Alexandria and the Commonwealth, he would get up early in the mornings and make you something to eat while you slept a little while longer. He would quietly slip into your room and gently wake you up before handing you the plate of whatever he threw together. You guys would just sit in bed for a bit while you ate and talk about what you had to do for the day. Usually, he would eventually have to go do some sort of work, so he would tuck you back in and give you a kiss on the forehead before heading out and letting you catch a few extra hours of rest.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

In the evenings, you would cuddle up close to each other while you would whisper stories from your childhood. Over time, this nightly routine would become an exchange of stories, and he would share a few short memories from his own childhood. When you both eventually either ran out of stories or simply began to forget them, you would both talk about the future. What your imaginary house would look like, and how many cats you would adopt. When you had those talks, he would end them by leaning close to your ear and whispering “one day”, before giving you a kiss and drifting off to sleep.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

Figuring out Daryl would be like trying to put together a puzzle with pieces you find hidden around a maze. Every once in a while he would drop a little tidbit about himself and you would memorize it and store it away, placing another piece in the slowly growing puzzle until you eventually begin to see the picture. Each time you would reference something he had told you before, or picked up something for him on a run that reminded you of a story he told you, he would fall deeper and deeper in love. It was the little things that meant the most to him, he was never one for grand gestures.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

To this day, the group still cannot comprehend how well he’s able to keep his patience with you. There were more than a few times that you made dumb mistakes, or got hurt, but he rarely broke. Sometimes, he would crack just a tiny bit when you did something that could've gotten you injured, but he would take a deep breath to calm himself down before apologizing and reminding you that he's not upset, he just doesn't want you to get hurt. 

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

You would begin to think that Daryl knows you better than you know yourself. Not only did he remember every single thing you ever told him, no matter how big or small, but he also became an expert in analyzing your every move. He could spot your emotions sometimes before you even understood what you were feeling, always knowing how to approach you and talk to you based on your mood and expressions. You wouldn’t realize it at first, but when he begins to bring you little things like candy you mentioned once that you used to like, or your favorite color sweater, you knew he was in deep. No one had ever made you feel more loved or more seen than he does.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

He would probably just enjoy all the quiet moments you were able to have together. Maybe his favorite would be the day you both went out to an empty field near Alexandria, devoid of walkers and had a picnic in the grass. You laid around for a while, watching the clouds pass by before you realized that he was watching you and not the sky. “What?” You stifled a laugh and asked him. “Nuthin’. You're just so beautiful” You blushed a deep red and that only made him grow more enamored. He wasn't able to help himself, he leaned over and kissed you. He knew it was risky, but his need for you overtook him and you made lazy love in the field.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

In his mind, Daryl’s number one job is keeping you safe. Yes of course, he cared greatly about the group’s safety, but you were always top priority. Hell hath no fury like Daryl when he’s coming for someone who hurt you, on the rare occasion that they got through him. He would die for you in an instant, no hesitation. It would worry you, how much he risked his own life to keep yours safe, but you knew that it was a moot point. There was nothing you could say or do to convince him to back down. He would protect you until he was no longer breathing.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

Daryl has never really been in a relationship before, so he doesn't know what to do. He's constantly asking Carol for ideas of gifts, dates, and small kindnesses he can do for you to show how much he loves you. She would tell him that he just needs to follow his heart and do whatever feels right, not try to force it. On the rare occasion that you had the time and safety, he would plan little dates. Taking you out to a spot that he had cleared the day before while telling everyone else you were going on a run. He would give you little handmade bracelets, trinkets he found while he was out, and cook for you as often as he could. But would feel like no actions could ever portray how much he loves you.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

You would be frustrated by how quick he would be to defend your honor. Even when someone would say something so small and insignificant, if Daryl thought it was an insult, fists would begin flying. But secretly, you loved how defensive he was of you. And you had to admit, it was pretty funny seeing Spencer whimper and scurry away from Daryl whenever they locked eyes, it's a shame his nose never did heal right.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Daryl doesn't care at all how he looks, unless he thinks that you don't like something. He would let you cut his hair when it got too long, and trim his beard when it got unruly, but you thought he was perfect just the way he is so he was content with himself. He would be a little insecure about his scars when you guys first get together, but it wouldn't take too long for him to feel comfortable enough with you to take off his shirt.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

When Daryl was without you, it was like a piece of his heart was missing. He would constantly be on edge and anxious to get back to you. He had fallen so hard, it would be actually impossible for him to exist without you anymore. Runs were hard, especially when he would be gone for a week or more, but he would keep a little polaroid photo of you in his vest pocket to try and fill a tiniest bit of the void that you left. 

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

Daryl would write you notes. Whether it be a sticky note on your pillow in the morning when you woke up telling you that he had run to Ricks and would be back soon, or a note he slipped into your backpack before you left for a run telling you to be safe, and that he would miss you and couldn't wait for you to get back. When he is working on the bridge, he sends you letters by ‘mail’, making whoever is running back and forth to Alexandria drop it off on your porch. These letters would be longer, detailing what all they had done that day and how much he missed you. You would write letters back to him and every time he saw the courier coming up on the camp, he would rush over and grab your letter before retreating back into his tent to read it. He keeps all of them in a small box hidden under his bed, and sometimes when he can't get to sleep at night, he’ll read them for a while until he's able to drift off.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

Daryl wouldn’t like it when you wore makeup. Sometimes you would find an old tube of concealer or eyeshadow while you’re out and you would take it home and wear it for a bit. He didn't necessarily think it looked bad but he thought you were beautiful just the way you were, so he would tell you that you didn’t need it and sometimes try to hide it so you can't use it again. Although, he did love it when you got wine drunk and put on your reddest lipstick and gave him kisses all over his face and chest while giggling and telling him how much you love him.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

Daryl is such a blanket hog. When he first falls asleep he cuddles up next to you and holds you close, but as the night goes on he begins to slightly toss and turn, and usually he ends up taking the covers with him. It wasn’t unusual for you to wake up in the middle of the night to a chill breeze and see Daryl on the other end of the bed with the covers half hanging off his side, half wrapped around him like a cocoon. He would always feel bad when he woke up and saw you were uncovered, so eventually, he would find an extra large blanket that covered you both, no matter how much he moved around.