#i understand being made uncomfortable by some things. i understand it completely

[caught-tumbling]

I've been hospitalized and I've worked in mental health so I have some suggestions

1) You will see things that you don't understand. That's ok. As long as the behavior isn't harmful its fine. Unusual sentence structure, unusual requests, unusual movements, unusual associations, etc are just how some people function. So if you don't understand why someone is doing something try to just take it in stride, try not to laugh, stare, or look disgusted. When I was hospitalized a patient had a compulsion (I think) to shout their full name whenever someone said their first name, then they always looked embarrassed. So the best staff members just pretended it didn't happen which didn't stop the behavior but at least the patient was more at ease because they weren't being shamed.

2) People in psych wards often have a very dark sense of humor. Gallows humor gets us through. People will casually throw out the most upsetting and traumatic anecdotes as "funny" stories. You don't have to laugh along, just don't be too surprised. One benefit to being in a psych ward is a level of understanding most people don't have outside. People can drop a joke about the most horrifying shit they've survived and no one freaks out, they just laugh and share something equally messed up. That dark comradery was a weirdly healing part of my recovery. Sometimes as a staff member you'll have to intervene if people start looking uncomfortable but in general you just gotta shrug and move on.

3) Compassion, compassion, compassion. The difference between a good stay and a bad stay is compassion. Treat every patient as if they were a loved one. My worst stay the staff treated us like dangerous cattle. They didn't speak to us except to give orders, they ignored people in pain and distress, they refused every request just because they could. My best stay the staff ate with us, they played card games with us, they offered a hand to hold when someone was scared, they treated us like human beings. Just sitting with someone for a while can be huge.

4) Please report things. PLEASE REPORT THINGS. If a patient is harassing another patient, report it. If a patient is harassing an employee, report it. If a coworker is being cruel or neglectful towards patients, report it. If your reports do nothing then escalate it. I've reported patients, nurses, doctors, teams, even organizations both as a patient and as a professional. I've called the police. I've gotten people fired. You will need to do that sometimes. It sucks and is a little nerve wracking but you need to advocate for people's safety. The reports I made as a professional were taken way more seriously than the reports I made as a patient. The system is set up to dismiss patients so employees need to be more proactive. Please be an advocate. Some of the people you'll work with don't have any support outside the hospital, those are the most vulnerable people you'll probably ever meet and you won't always know who's in that group.

5) Talk to the patients. Avoid phrases like "I understand what you're going through" and use phrases like "I know this is hard" or "I'm here to help." If someone is having a hallucination or delusion that's upsetting sometimes it's better to work with the delusion than to deny it completely. If someone is worried there's bugs in their food just saying "no, that's ridiculous" won't help. But saying "I'll check to make sure there's no bugs" can help immensely. Some people will be scared of you due to anxiety, medical trauma, other trauma, or paranoia. You can't always change their mind. But you can show signs that you are a safe person. Little stuff like getting them an extra blanket, asking how they're doing, including them in their treatment plans, etc are vital but overlooked.

Help Me Train Nurses About Psych Stuff

I do a presentation at our hospital aimed demystifying mental illness and the people who live with it. The talk is for medical-surgical nurses, so specifically staff that does NOT work psych who feel ignorant about treating that population. A lot of the people I'm talking to are also young and still developing the foundation of their nursing practice.

If you've ever been in the hospital as a psych patient (or a psych patient navigating the medical system in general), what would you want the hospital staff to know based on your experiences? What advice or insight would you give?

I'd especially love anything about positive experiences, things that helped you, what someone did that improved the situation, stuff like that. In addition to saying what not to do, I'd love to give staff actionable things they CAN do instead.

[cpvnksabm]

hey RTC fandom, i wanted to talk about disability erasure in RTC, and how the fandom (and potential future productions) can do better than canon has done so far!

What is disability erasure?

Disability erasure is, basically, finding ways to avoid acknowledging or depicting disability because of how it makes people uncomfortable. One example of this, and the most common thing that pops up in discussions of RTC, is taking a character that is canonically disabled or usually depicted as disabled, and depicting them without that disability.

When this happens in general, it is a problem because it deprives disabled people of a chance to see themselves represented in media. In theatre, it also often means that an abled actor gets a role that could have gone to a disabled actor - and this is already a problem even when the character is being depicted as disabled on-stage, due to ableism in the hiring/audition process.

We already have few enough disabled characters as it is - we don't need any less. Ricky is an important character to me and to many other disabled people. That's why I, like most of the fandom, do not support the 2022 script changes that made Ricky able-bodied and replaced his physical disability with a psychological trauma.

I won't discuss the script changes much here. Many other people, including Yannick himself, have already explained it better than I can. But suffice to say I think the new script is incredibly, inherently ableist.

But that's not the only example of disability erasure in RTC.

Disability erasure doesn't just mean taking a disabled character and making them completely abled. In fact, many people have correctly pointed out that Ricky still has a disability in the new scripts, because being unable to talk due to psychological trauma is a disability. And this is true, but it doesn't change the deliberate erasure of Ricky's physical disability.

Because all disabilities are different, it's possible to erase a character's disability even without making them fully abled. If a character has one disability, and you remove it to give them another - that's still erasure! Disability rep is not all interchangeable, and it does matter what disability or broadly what type of disability a character has.

I hope most of the fandom can understand that, for example, it would be a problem to make Noel bisexual. Even though bisexuality is still part of the queer community, it's erasure to do that for Noel - because he isn't just generic queer representation, he's specifically gay! And the same sort of principle applies to Ricky, because he isn't just generic disability representation - he is specifically a person with a degenerative disease, and a mobility aid user who cannot speak.

With the canon info that we have on Ricky's disability, based on the 2016 script, here are some examples of things that might not be making him fully abled but are still erasure:

Depicting Ricky not needing mobility aids, even if he can't talk

Depicting Ricky talking out loud, even if he still needs mobility aids

Depicting Ricky being a person who cannot speak & needs mobility aids, but having this be due to two unrelated disabilities that affect his speech & legs only (for example nonverbal autism & arthritis in his legs). Ricky canonically has a rare degenerative disease that affects both his speech and his mobility; it is very likely (all but stated outright in canon) that this is a neuromuscular disease which affects his whole body.

Removing the fact that Ricky has a degenerative disease specifically, and explaining his symptoms with a disability that will stay at the same severity throughout his life, when he canonically has a degenerative disease that he outright says will lead to an early death (even if this makes you sad to think about, which is 100% valid and understandable, it is not appropriate to erase outright)

But what about in the afterlife? What if Karnak allows Ricky to remove his disability or specific parts of it?

Pretty much every production of RTC involves Ricky, upon death, gaining some abilities that he didn't have in life. In most productions he discards his mobility aids, though there are some where he keeps them during most of the musical and only throws them aside for choreography, and some where he keeps them throughout choreography. To my knowledge every production of RTC also has him talking out loud after his death. This is all pretty easily explained by some sort of afterlife magic, or by Karnak actively choosing to remove (parts of) Ricky's disability.

And I'm sorry to say that it's still erasure.

I'm not saying this because I want to file RTC away as bad rep. I love RTC, and I love Ricky! I think Ricky is extremely valuable disability representation for so many reasons, and I also think there are some things that it could have done better.

I think having Ricky as an explicitly disabled character who becomes able-bodied due to magic later on is much, much better representation than simply writing his disability out of the canon entirely. It's a different level of erasure, because it still acknowledges him as a disabled character, and still acknowledges that as part of his backstory.

But using magic as a way to remove disability is lazy. It's a quick way to avoid having to depict a character as disabled for the entire length of a musical. And that means that the disabled fans who see ourselves in Ricky, don't get to see a character depicted as disabled or using mobility aids on-stage for the whole length of the musical.

Now, I understand that whenever you're making fanworks for a flawed piece of media (and every piece of media will have some flaws), there's a balance between being canon compliant and improving on canon. I don't think fans should be instantly labeled as ableist, or canceled, for writing canon compliant fic where Ricky's disability is erased in some way in the afterlife. I don't think it carries the same harm or weight - for one, it doesn't have the same reach as actual musical productions do, and on top of that, disabled people in the RTC fandom are already aware of the flawed parts of RTC's disability rep & we tend to be prepared for this when we go into the fandom.

I do think people should consider making Ricky disabled in the afterlife in fanworks. Many other parts of canon are changed in fanworks, so this one can be too!

And more importantly than that, I think more RTC productions (on the off chance anyone involved in a production of RTC is reading this post) should work to continue depicting Ricky as disabled on-stage throughout the whole musical. As I've said before, to my knowledge, there isn't an existing production of RTC that doesn't engage in some level of disability erasure, and that's something I'd like to see change one day.

But wait, if Ricky still couldn't speak out loud in the afterlife, wouldn't that mean cutting his song?

Actually, no!

I get this response a lot when I bring up the disability erasure inherent in Ricky consistently regaining his ability to talk upon death. I understand the concern - I think it would be awful if a production simply cut SABM in order to avoid depicting Ricky talking/singing out loud, and that doing so would also be a form of erasure in the sense that it would inevitably involve minimizing Ricky's character and removing parts of what made RTC such valuable disability rep in the first place (especially so if some of ricky's speaking lines, such as his post-SABM speech, are also cut with SABM).

But the fact is that you simply don't have to cut Ricky's song for this to work. There are real people who have performed in musicals without speaking/singing out loud, and still had major roles!

One way of doing this is with an interpreter. Ricky's actor would perform SABM in sign language, and another performer would sing the song as he signs it. It's important to note that when this is done, Ricky is still the main performer and still the focus of the song, and the interpreter is just that - an interpreter.

This method has been done in musical theatre before. One example is Joshua Castille, a Deaf actor, playing Quasimodo (an originally deaf character) in the 5th Avenue Theatre production of The Hunchback of Notre Dame. He performs in ASL, with singer E.J Cardona acting as the voice of Quasimodo. There are some clips online if you'd like to look it up!

There's another idea that I've thought of myself, though I don't know of any examples or if it'd been done. If Ricky was depicted using an AAC device on-stage, that would mean he talks using a synthesised (text-to-speech) voice. And we already have the technology to create singing with synthesised voices - it's called Vocaloid!

Of course, real world AAC devices generally can't sing, and programming a song into a vocaloid inherently takes a lot of time - you couldn't do it on the spot. But the whole premise of a musical is people singing on the spot when they wouldn't normally be able to! In RTC specifically it's explained as Karnak's doing, but pretty much every musical involves characters perfectly singing in contexts where they couldn't have possibly memorised/rehearsed the lyrics, harmonies or choreography in advance. I don't think it's that out-there to stretch this to Ricky singing using a vocaloid-like voice in a context where he couldn't have possibly programmed it into his device in advance.

I don't think these are the only ways it can be done, either - they're just some obvious examples. I just wanted to make it clear that it is possible to depict Ricky as a nonspeaking character throughout the musical, and this wouldn't have to involve cutting his song or removing his singing roles. I'd really like to see productions start to come up with creative ways of doing this!

Conclusion/TL;DR

Disability erasure is a problem in all existing RTC productions to varying degrees, and it's a problem in the fandom as well. Disability erasure isn't just taking a disabled character and making them fully abled - many cases of disability erasure in RTC involve Ricky still having a disability, but it's still erasure if aspects of the disability he canonically has are erased.

Contrary to popular belief, Ricky's inability to speak being erased in the afterlife is not just a necessary evil of the musical genre. Nonspeaking characters can be represented in musicals, and this wouldn't have to involve cutting his song!

Thanks for reading!

[unknownarmageddon]

that list and just like everything surrounding it is making me feel so icky i need to crawl into a hole

[wolviensabes]

Logan gets jealous so he decides to make sure you know who you belong to. MDNI

I love jealousy scenarios so much. So here is one with Logan <3 Still figuring out how to write him so keep that in mind too. It came out to be much longer than I thought lmaooo. Possibly will revise later but for now I just wanted to get it out.

Rating: Mature/Smut

Warnings: Afab reader, jealous/possessive Wolvie, brief spanking, fingering, oral (both receiving and giving), deepthroat/throat fucking, unprotected sex, slight breeding kink. Unedited, I worked on this for three days and I'm too lazy.

WC: 5k

The moment you got home, he could smell it. That scent on your jacket, your shirt, your skin. It made his nose scrunch up in a way that was impossible to miss. He glared down at you, his eyes narrowing as that stranger's smell seemed to seep deeper into your skin with every passing second. You, completely oblivious to it all, casually hung up your jacket on the rack, not sensing the tension in the air. As you turned back to face him, you couldn't help but notice the intensity of his stare.

"What's wrong?" you asked, genuinely puzzled by the look on his face, which was now a mix of confusion and anger. His reaction made you take a step back, trying to understand what could have possibly caused such a strong response.

Sure, you weren't stupid. Logan was always protective of you, and maybe it was that asshole in the store who kept pestering you with questions about where certain groceries were located. Maybe it was because he stood so uncomfortably close that his shoulder brushed against yours, or perhaps it was the intrusive hand he splayed on your back. You felt a deep sense of discomfort with his touch, and tried giving him clear and concise instructions, hoping to get the man to leave you alone as quickly as possible. The whole situation made you feel uneasy, and Logan had seen it from down the aisle.

His first instinct was to slice that man into pieces and leave him on the ground, but he couldn't do that. Not in the middle of the grocery store anyway. He could feel his blood boiling and his muscles tensing up as he stared intently at the man walking off, every fiber of his being urging him to take action. You let out a breath of relief, feeling the tension dissipate slightly, and turned back to the shelves, trying to focus on the mundane task at hand.

Grocery shopping was one of your least favorite things. You didn't like being around so many people, and that man was a prime example of why.

With a shaky hand, you grabbed the bag of chips you wanted, hoping that the simple act of shopping would help you regain some sense of calmness. You couldn't help but glance over your shoulder, just to make sure the man was really gone, before continuing down the aisle to Logan's side.

He said nothing about it, so you assumed he wasn't concerned at all. This lack of reaction from him made you feel a little more grounded and reassured. If Logan wasn't reacting, then maybe that guy was just some harmless idiot and not someone to worry about.

You made the conscious decision to stick next to Logan for the rest of the trip, not bothering to split up and go farther down the aisle as you had done before. The silence between you and Logan seemed to confirm that everything was alright, and you found yourself relaxing more as you walked together.

But you were wrong about his outward stoicism. He was fuming inside.

Not at you, of course, but that man who had the nerve to touch you. Asking where something is in the grocery store already annoyed him, the damn aisles are numbered and have the product written above them. He could've just looked at the signs instead of talking to you and touching you.

Logan let out a deep, throaty growl, staring intensely at you now that you two were back home, the familiar surroundings providing a stark contrast to the tension in the air. "That bastard really pissed me off," he spat, his voice dripping with anger and frustration, his eyes darkened with a mixture of rage and possessiveness. "The damn nerve of him to come up and touch what isn't his," he continued, his fists clenched and unclenched at his sides. Those deadly blades nearly poking out on instinct.

"That guy is what's bothering you?" you questioned softly, understanding how he might feel after witnessing the stranger be so close to you at the store, having the gall to actually touch you too. You weren't happy about it either, but you tried to keep your cool to show him it didn't bother you, even when it did, so he wouldn't react. "Logan, he was just an assho-"

Your voice was abruptly cut off as his hands slammed forcefully into the wall on either side of your head, creating a resounding echo. He was now standing directly in front of you, so close that you could feel the heat of his breath warming your face. The distinct smell of cigar smoke and musk emanated from him, enveloping you in their combined, heady aroma, you could feel your core clench and dampen.

Your heart pounded in your chest at the close proximity, feeling as though it might burst through your ribcage with each passing second. He took a deep breath, the rise and fall of his chest steady and rhythmic, almost hypnotic in the stillness of the moment. His eyes, which were usually dark and troubled, bored into you with an intensity that was both unsettling and captivating. Now, however, they held an expression you could only describe as fierce and feral, a primal emotion that sent shivers down your spine.

"You are mine, princess," he declared, his voice low and possessive. "Clearly, I don't show it enough now do I?" His words hung in the air, heavy with meaning and unspoken promises, leaving you breathless as your body was reacting quickly to his words.

His eyes scanned you, running down your body and to your core, his lips upturned in a smirk, "You naughty girl." His voice was gravelly, clearly enjoying the new scent of arousal that he could smell as obvious as a candle burning in front of you. He grabbed you, his calloused hands clasped around the back of your plush thighs and swiftly lifted you up and over his shoulder. He held you still as he turned and carried you effortlessly through the halls and up to your bedroom.

"Logan!" You let out a small yelp as you were effortlessly thrown over his muscular shoulder. He carried you with ease, striding confidently through the room, only to be answered with the quick swing of your body being thrown down onto the bed. You landed with a grunt, the impact bouncing you slightly on the mattress. You looked up at him, standing over you with a commanding presence. His eyes locked onto yours, the intensity of his gaze sent a shiver down your spine. He reached down, tugging your pants off with a swift motion, letting them drop onto the floor by your feet.

"Hush..." he grumbled, his voice carrying a rough edge as he threw his shirt off with a swift motion. You couldn't help but stare at his chest and abdomen, packed with well-defined muscles that flexed and rippled as he tossed the shirt carelessly to the side. Each movement seemed to highlight his features, he glanced back down at you after he had thrown the shirt off, rolling his shoulders back.

You had seen him shirtless many times before, yet your reaction was always the same. It was as if his physique had a magnetic pull, making it impossible to look away. The sight of him never ceased to leave you in awe, and it seemed each time you saw him like this, you discovered something new to admire.

He lifted his hand slowly, fingers curling tightly to form a fist, and with a deliberate motion, one of his three adamantium blades began to slide out from within him. The slow, smooth sound of it grazing through his knuckles and tender flesh, emerging inch by inch until it was fully exposed, sent a shiver down your spine and made you swallow thickly. The gleam of the claw in the dim light only added to the tension, and you had a pretty clear idea of what he was going to do next.

He leaned down, the claw gently trailing from your knee and up your thigh, moving slowly and deliberately, right up until he reached your center. The sensation was both thrilling and unnerving. Most would flinch at having such a thing near them, the sharp metallic edge so close to their skin, (especially when it came to the person wielding it), but you didn't. You trusted him completely, and while you felt a mix of excitement and slight uncertainty fill you, you stayed still for him, your heart pounding in your chest.

As the claw continued its path until it laid against the center of your panties, you felt goosebumps rise from your skin, each tiny bump cause by the mixture of sensations rushing through you. The cool metal chilled your body, leaving what felt to be an icy trail on your warm skin, contrasting sharply with the heat of your own flesh. The experience was almost surreal, like a dance between fire and ice, and you found yourself lost in the moment, every nerve ending heightened, every touch magnified.

You could sense his intent, the care with which he moved, and it only deepened your trust. He'd never actually harm you, and besides, it was fun to include them. The blade traveled farther up your body, under your shirt until it poked out of your collar near your neck. He glanced at you before jerking his arm back and swiftly tearing your shirt completely in half.

Your gasp was loud and sudden, your eyes widening with shock as you watched him effortlessly rip your shirt off with his sharp claw. He trailed it slowly down your chest, gliding it with a deliberate and almost teasing motion across your body, allowing you to feel its cold, metallic touch on the tender and delicate skin of your soft belly. The claw was lethal, easily capable of inflicting ruthless injury or ending your life in an instant.

But he doesn't, and you know he wouldn't.

The thrill of the danger, the razor's edge between safety and peril, heightened your senses like never before, leaving you acutely aware of every sensation and emotion coursing through you.

You reached down with a deliberate, yet tender motion and gently held his wrist, feeling the warmth of his skin against your fingers. With careful precision, you guided his hand upwards to your chest, allowing his large palm to come to rest over your breast. His nostrils flared with a sharp breath, signaling his heightened awareness. Your tongue slowly emerged, and you carefully licked the side of his claw, a metallic taste and cool sensation on your taste buds.

The way your tongue slid over the blade, oh so carefully, made him growl and it retracted once he saw your tongue was safely out of the way. You whined quietly, you were having fun teasing him. "You wanna be a tease, do you?" His voice grunted out, he jerked you up and tossed you to the floor, your knees hit the carpet and you whined.

He paused only for a second, then he fiddled with his belt and tugged it out of the loops in one jerk. The act of that made you quiver below him, blinking up as he harshly unbuttoned his jeans, pushing them down and his thick cock sprang out of his boxers. Red and angry, the tip completely blushed and shiny with the precum that had been spread on his tip.

His hand reached for your hair, grabbing onto it and tugging you closer. His cock brushed against your cheek as he used his other hand to position it at your mouth, "Open," he demanded lowly to you. Your jaw relaxed and your lips parted, allowing his salty tip to slide into your mouth.

You swirled your tongue around the blushed flesh, tasting and cleaning his sticky cockhead. He grunted in response, a pleased sound ripples through his throat as he pushed himself farther into your warm mouth. Your tongue was a soft cushion for the underside of his dick, he relished feeling it with each thrust into your throat.

Logan's grip tightened on your hair, his fingers tangling and pulling with a possessive intensity. He growled deeply, the sound vibrating through his chest, and pulled you even closer to him. You made a muffled whine, a desperate sound that escaped your lips, your eyes looking up at him from where you were below, wide and pleading. He almost looked completely feral, his eyes wild and dark with an unrestrained hunger. He huffed as his chest rose and fell quickly, his breath coming in short, ragged bursts, the tension between you almost palpable.

"You belong to me, princess. I'm going to make sure every single part of you remembers that. Even when I'm done fucking you." Logan growled out, watching his cock disappear in your throat as he thrust his hips forward. The sudden intrusion into your throat made your eyes widen and you gagged, not expecting him to do that.

"That's it, who's cock do you gag on? Mine. Who's cock do you like to suck on, hm?" He angled you more to look at him while keeping himself safely tucked into you mouth, the tip of his dick brushing up and down the fleshy, soft meat on the back of your throat. Bubbles of saliva popped at the corners of your mouth as he continued to thrust in and out of your throat, each time hitting the back and sliding down.

"Ugh, yeah...that's it...take it down, pup," he chuckled and watched you struggle to take him with each thrust, you still did your best to attempt to swallow all of him, knowing how it drives him crazy seeing you choke. "Slobber all over my cock, mine...the only cock that you get."

Logan grunted lowly, the sound vibrated from his chest and through his throat, his eyes closing as he focused and you could feel his dick twitching inside your mouth. "Here it comes, princess, be a good girl and swallow it." His voice was dominant and demanding, you prepared for his thick, heavy load that was soon to coat your tongue and slide down your throat.

His hips stuttered, his hold in your hair tightened and in one swift thrust, he was sheathed in your mouth. His cum began to flood across your tongue, giving you a slightly salty taste as it continued to spill out of his swollen dick. You had to swallow twice before you could finally breathe again, it felt like he was unloading everything he had. When he pulled out, he watched as his cock popped out, a gasp escaped your throat and your face messy from his thrusts. He grinned down, satisfied with how disheveled you were. "Look at you, such a mess."

You lifted your eyes up, swallowing the rest of his spunk and breathing heavily. You were breathless, your jaw ached and your throat felt bruised for sure. He took a step back and took you in, the image of you ingraining in his brain and blood flowed down to his cock. His fingers ran through your hair lightly but quickly tightened again, lifting you to stand.

Your legs felt shaky and unsteady from sitting on your knees for such a prolonged period, and you were still a bit dazed and disoriented from sucking his cock. The discomfort in your legs was matched by a slight buzzing throb in your head, making it difficult to regain your composure. "Ain't no one makes you such a pretty mess like this but me...you won't forget that. I don't give a damn who hears those sweet little noises that come out of your mouth."

He moved you onto the bed again, this time face down, and your belly hit the mattress with a rough huff. Logan's rough hands ran up the back of your bare thighs and over the round of your ass. "Such a sweet peach, princess..." he grabbed the meat of your ass and spread you open, gazing down at your holes.

He leaned in and inhaled your scent, making you squirm and whine his name, he groaned under his breath in response and spit onto your cunt. You could barely register what he was doing before you felt his tongue push inside and he began lapping at you like a starved man. His tongue curled and gathered as much of you as possible, tasting your arousal from the source as his pupils dilate with desire.

You can't help but moan as he ate you out, his hands kneading and groping your ass as he did so, snarling against your core while his tongue effortlessly assaulted and teased your clit. "You taste so damn good, look at you, soaked already..." he sat up and pushed two fingers inside to stretch you out, making you groan loudly from the sudden intrusion. "Logan!"

"Yeah...you like that don't you...feeling my fingers inside you. Haven't fingered you in a minute huh...feels good? You like when I curl 'em don't you...like..." he adjusted his wrist and he curled his fingers against that sweet, delicate spot inside you that makes you cry out in pleasure. "Yeah...that's it," he chuckled with amusement, hearing your pretty little noises. His calloused fingers rubbed mercilessly against that spongey wall and your legs began to tremble. Your fists gripped the sheets and you cried out against them, your pleasured noise muffled by the blankets. "That's what my girl likes..."

"Logan...oh god..." you whined desperately, rocking back into his fingers, chasing that sweet high that was soon to hit you and explode. "I'm gonna cum..." you rasped and did what you could to drive yourself there, the brink was so, so close...but just as he felt your walls slicken a little and tighten around his fingers, he retracted them. Right before you went over the edge, he denied you, making you groan in frustration. "Logan," you cried desperately and with slight frustration, "I was almost there!"

He had that shit-eating grin on his face, loving how desperate you became when you needed to climax. "Not so fast, sweetheart...I am going to fuck you until you can barely take it. And then some." Logan smacked your ass once, sending a sharp sting up your spine. The noise sounded loudly in the room and making you yelp slightly, your face felt hot and you bit your lip. "Maybe I should lay a few of these to ya...for begging so much...you'd like that wouldn't you? You naughty thing," He gave you another spank and you whined at the stinging sensation.

"L-Logan, please...I-I need you..." your voice was so desperate and pitiful, you could feel his hand on the small of your back, holding you still but not applying pressure. He didn't have to, he knew you'd lay perfectly for him, his pretty girl.

"I know...you need me huh? This poor pussy is so needy for me?" he chuckled, "You about broke my fingers with how tight you were. You gonna be that tight around my cock?" he asked, leaning over your body and placing a hot kiss to the side of your neck. The sensation of his lips on such a sensitive spot almost made you cry out. You felt like your body was on fire.

"Please! Please, I need you inside me! Don't tease me anymore...." your voice begged him, you wanted his cock stretching you out so badly...and he seemed to enjoy your desperation enough to give in. His cock head rubbed between your folds, he grinned and shuddered when he felt just how hot your core was.

Normally he'd just shove himself inside you, filling you up in one quick thrust, but not this time. He loved seeing you needy, especially after that bastard at the store had the audacity to touch you. The mere sight of it made his blood boil and his chest tighten with jealousy. He knew deep down that you hadn't done anything on purpose and that it wasn't your fault, but still, the image of it lingered in his mind. It gnawed at him, filling him with an almost unbearable urge to assert himself. He had to prove something to both you and himself. It was as if an uncontrollable fire had ignited within him, his primal instincts demanding him to take action.

He instead slowly began to push inside, his cock stretching your tight hole and you let out a loud whining cry. It wasn't enough; your desire for him was overwhelming, you craved all of him, every part of his being. Yet, he was deliberate in his actions, taking his time and being slow and precise with you, almost as if savoring each moment. His meticulous approach only heightened your instinctive need, making the yearning even more intense.

When he was fully inside, your cries for him grew even louder, your voice filled with a mix of desperation and desire. Your whining and squirming only intensified as you clung to him, feeling the overwhelming sensation of him deep within you. You wanted him to move, to give you the release you craved, but he remained still, demonstrating an incredible amount of self-control.

The way your body writhed against him drove him absolutely crazy; every movement you made sent shivers down his spine. He wanted nothing more than to hold you down, to keep you in place and listen to those beautiful, intoxicating sounds that escaped your lips, savoring every moment of your shared intimacy.

You were utterly intoxicating to him. His hips finally moved, pumping in and out of you with vigor and passion. Logan's firm hold on your plush hips made him groan and growl against your neck, his warm huffs of breath sending shivers down your spine and warming your skin. Each exhale created goosebumps all over the rest of your body, making you respond with pathetic sounds of pleasure. The heat radiating from him was intense, the man ran hot as it was and it felt like his entire body was a heater on high, intensifying the intimate connection between you both.

As his fingers dug slightly into your soft flesh, his deep desire for you became more apparent when he jerked your body closer to him as he continued to pound himself in and out of your tight cunt. "You love this cock don't you princess? Does it feel good...you are so desperate huh?" he whispered in a throaty, guttural voice, his lips grazing your ear as he held you flush against his body.

You felt tears prick your eyes as the intense feeling began to rush through your body, your pussy was so sensitive and he just kept pounding you. "Mhm....nngh yes..." you rasped weakly, "S-so good...so good Logan...y-you're making me bulge down there..." Your eyes widened slightly, seeing the lower part of your abdomen slightly show his dick from when he sunk into your sex.

"Only I get to make you scream and cry like this, hm? Only me. You love when I fuck you like an animal don't you? Do you want that?" he pushed you back into the bed, your arms wrapped around the pillow for any kind of support as you cried and felt him begin to pound into you even harder. The feeling of your slick warming even more from the friction made you scream in delight. It felt so incredible, no man has ever made you feel so fulfilled before...

"M'gonna put a fuckin' baby in you, gonna fill this pretty belly with my cum and watch you swell up. Then no one will touch you. You're claimed, no one will ever come up and touch you again, you're all mine," Logan hissed lowly and angled your hips up slightly, his cock hitting your cervix and teasing it with the promise of his cum.

Your body reacted to his movements by squeezing him, your velvet walls tightened around his dick and tried milking him even more as he thrusted and claimed you as his own. "My good girl...nngh...takin' my cock so good, fuckin' you to tears hm? No one else can get you this way, can they?" he growled against your skin, holding you desperately close as his hips drove into you more and more.

"Logan, I'm gonna cum...please, let me cum," you whined pitifully, tears rolled down your cheeks as you succumbed to the overwhelming pleasure he was providing your body. Every word that came from his mouth went straight to your clit and you were attempting to milk him before he was ready to climax himself.

"So needy... You really want to? You think you deserve it?" he asks in a low, almost mocking tone, chuckling to himself as he watches you with an intense gaze. Your tears stream down your face, and you mewl pathetically, your desperate cries echoing in the room, each sound seemingly fueling his amusement even more.

The scent of your arousal filled his nose and it drove him into you even more, his His hips stuttered, attempting to push faster than before, driven by a desperate need to increase the pace. Logan groaned deeply, the sound resonating through the room, his arms tightly wrapped around your midsection, pulling you closer. His muscular chest tightened with effort, every sinew straining as he used all the power he had to continue pounding you with relentless intensity. His skin, now slick with a light layer of sweat, pressed damply against your back, providing a heated contrast to the cool air. His chest hair was slightly tousled and damp, scratched along the skin of your back as his hips thrusted.

"Logan, I can't hold it any longer...please let me-" you rasped desperately, your entire body trembling and screaming at you to let it all go. Every muscle was tense, fighting against the overwhelming urge, yet you craved his permission more than anything. You needed to hear him say you could, to feel that moment of release granted by his word...

"Alright pretty girl, come for me, let it out, cum all over my cock...let me know how good I make you feel~" Logan urged you on and his hands roamed up your body, grasping your breasts and gently pinching and rolling your nipples in his index and thumb. That was all your body needed to go over the edge.

You felt an intense wave of adrenaline and warmth spread from your core, radiating throughout your entire body. Overwhelmed by the sensation, you cried out Logan's name, your voice a mix of desperation and euphoria. As your head became fuzzy and dazed, the feeling of pure ecstasy washed over you, filling your senses to the brim. You were completely overcome by the powerful emotions, your body trembling with the intensity as his cock mercilessly continued to pound into you.

"Ohh yes...that's it princess...let it out baby...cream on my dick," he groaned in your ear, the sound making you clench harder, if that were possible. His hips finally began to falter and he leaned over you to let gravity help his rutting. "M'gonna fill you up, til y'r dripping with me." Logan's eyebrows were knit tight and he let out a loud groan as his hips finally stopped, pushing hard against you as he reached his peak.

His cock kissed against your swollen cervix and he unloaded his orgasm deep into you, shooting rope after hot rope of cum until you were so full it began to ooze out around him. The sensation of it dripping down his balls made him snarl, he pulled out just enough to see it slowly coming out of your pretty, swollen pussy before he used his cock to swipe it up and push it back in.

"Keep it in there, sweet girl...keep all of me in you. You love it, being so full of my seed it leaks out of you." He reached around and teasingly wrapped his hand around your neck to give a gentle squeeze.

You, in a complete daze, so high on your climax you could barely think. He hadn't fucked you this hard in so long. You babbled lightly, attempting to form coherent words, but you weren't able to construct a complete sentence. He chuckled softly, his warm breath and lips brushing lightly against your temple. "Atta girl...so dizzy," he murmured, a hint of amusement in his voice. "Did I make you feel good? Hm?" Logan almost purred against you, his voice low and soothing, as you felt the gentle vibrations of his chest reverberate against your back, adding a comforting aspect to the intimate moment.

"Now, now...you just rest. You did so good for me." He placed a gentle kiss to your temple, pulling you to lay on him and reluctantly pulling himself out of you. "We can clean up later...right now, I want you here." He held your body close, his arms wrapping around you protectively as he adjusted a bit to make you more comfortable.

He felt pride and satisfaction when he smelled you, leaning down to inhale lightly. He no longer sensed that awful stench the stranger had left on you from before. Now, it was just his own scent imbedded in your skin, his claim on your was loud and clear to him and it would be to everyone else too. He continued to hold you, his warmth surrounding you, creating a cocoon of security.

You were far too tired to argue. Every bone in your body felt like it was weighed down by an invisible force, and the idea of cleaning up seemed like an insurmountable task. You would clean up later, but for now, you needed a moment to recover from your high and daze. The room felt like it was spinning slightly, and the only thing grounding you was his presence and firm arms wrapped around your body. You were happy laying with him, despite that smug ass smirk he had on his face when he observed you. His eyes had a glint of amusement, and you didn't know why he seemed so full of himself until you saw yourself in the mirror half an hour later.

When you caught your reflection, you were shocked to find your skin covered in dark bruises, all adorning your neck and shoulders. It was then you understood the reason behind Logan's self-satisfied expression. There was no way you could cover these, and he made sure of that.

"Logan!!"

That bastard.

Please let me know if you want to be added to the tag list by leaving a 🧡.

dividers by @/strangergraphics

[timmydraker]

On a seemingly random Tuesday night, a few members of the Bat Family are free to spend dinner at the manner.

Jason was benched by his fellow Outlaws for a nasty hit to his chest and got tired of Biz’s worrying even if it was appreciated at first.

Dick had been taking a small break after a particularly bad case with work that involved some hurt children and wanted to be back home.

Damian had only ever made threats to move about but the newley eighteen year old was still at home.

Tim had been using his free time while Kon and Cassie visited their families to visit his own while Bart and Barry dragged Wally on a bonding trip. The poor West boy had to miss out a concert of some sort.

Stephanie, Duke and Cass were all busy with a case and had pleaded with Bruce to take some time off because he was, quote, “Broodier than Hamlet”. He eventually relented when Barbie and Kate promised to keep an eye on them.

The group had decided to watch a movie instead of playing games, mainly because not games were banned, and settled on something that Tim paid no mind to.

The problem came that it was cold out and everyone insisted on having the fire as hot as it could go, but Tim naturally ran hot. Jason and Damian tended to get the coldest and while only Jason would complain, Damian could and would set anything he wanted on fire to get warm.

So, Tim didn’t complain and just said he was going to get changed.

He spent at least half an hour on one of the arm chairs by himself with his tablet playing RuneScape, when Dick inhaled so quickly everyone heard it.

Tim assumed it was something to do with the movie and didn’t turn, tapping away at his screen, completely ignorant to Dick’s quickly forming tears.

It was when Bruce also made a noise, this time a poorly pronounced ‘oh’ that he turned around, assuming it had to be a truely grand thing for Bruce to react so openly in the movie.

Instead he finds his foster father and brothers staring at him.

More specifically, his thighs.

Tim hadn’t realised his shorts would ride up and stop covering him to just above his knee and show the hundreds of scars littered over the outside and inside of his pale skin. They were mostly faded, but with the width of some of them they were always going to be visible, especially with the sheer amount.

Pulling his pant leg down, Tim doesn’t bother to hide a sympathetic wince and says, “Sorry, didn’t meant to show them. Sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”

He looks away again, assuming that was that and trying to remind himself that it wasn’t his fault that people were upset by his scars, just like Black Canary told him.

Instead he hears a sob and turns back to find Bruce holding Dicks hand as his oldest brother sobs into his hand. He sees that Jason is seemingly fighting to not match him even with his wide eyes and Damian is staring at him with confusion.

Realisation finds Tim quickly, which makes sense considering he’s supposed to be the ‘smart Robin’.

“You didn’t know…”

Dick stands up, dropping Bruce’s hand and comes to kneel before Tim, holding onto his own hands like some kind of follower to a god, “Why? I- I don’t- why?”

The desperation in his voice makes Tim feel sick, and he looks around at the others for help because surely he had talked to at least one of them about it? He had been open with his friends, and he hadn’t exactly kept it a secret, but he did avoid showing them…

Tim moves to hold onto Dick in return, “I’m sorry, I thought you guys knew-… okay, look, I’ve got a two year clean streak and I’m in therapy, okay? I’m so sorry Dick, I just assumed you knew cause I use the shower in the cave with you guys and… I’m so sorry.”

There’s a silence for a moment as Dick drags him into his arms and squeezes him as tightly as he can, not even being careful like he usually would.

“I don’t understand.”

Damian’s voice sounds uncharacteristic in how small it is. He’s staring at Tim’s legs like he might be able to catch a glimpse of the scars in genuine confusion.

Bruce seemingly can’t speak and so Jason tries his best to explain to the youngest Wayne boy, “Look, bra-kid, some times when people aren’t doing to well they… they hurt themselves. Tim…”

Giving his brother a smile, Tim takes over as tears finally break away from Jason. Jason was always the most emotional and that’s evident in how he actually lets Bruce pull him into a side hug.

“Dami, you know how my parents kind of sucked?”

Damian makes a scoff noise, “I know they were incompetent, yes.”

Smiling, Tim continues as his eyes grow wet with the sound of his families cries, “Well, I really wanted to good for them but they had impossible standards. When I found I couldn’t reach them, I decided I needed punishment. So…” he takes a deep inhale and moves a hand to Dick’s head to comfort him as he finishes. “I started to cut myself.”

Damian doesn’t get wide eyes or anything, and Tim thinks it’s so much worse that there’s an image understanding in his little brothers eyes that show he sees that as completely logical.

But it is quickly overcome, his first thought always what he was raised with and quickly followed by the ideals he’s learnt and now values. He doesn’t cry either, but he does have a look of a pure heart break in his sweet little eyes.

Bruce finally comes over and pulls his two sons into a hug, adjusting to fit Jason in and saying nothing as Damian comes up behind Tim and leans his head against the others back.

Bruce asks other a few minutes of holding each other, “You said you haven’t for two years?”

Tim smiles once again and presses a kiss to his dad’s cheek. “Yeah. I learnt that family, real family like ours, would never want physical punishment, especially for something we can’t control. That’s not how loving people work.”

Damian moves to wrap his arms around Tim in their first ever hug and by all gods and mighty beings is Tim glad he stuck around.

Hugs from his family was well worth it.

[yuri-is-online]

And in With the New (Scarabia, Pomefiore, Ignihyde, and Diasomnia x Yuu)

"Look I would get rid of this thing if I could afford a new sweatshirt." You drag the offensive article of clothing over your head completely missing the spark of curiosity and mischief in your companion's eye. "I've got a lot of bad memories associated with this."

"If it's that uncomfortable we can go look for a replacement instead of-"

"Oh no not like that, it's super comfy. I just don't like it because it technically belongs to my ex."

notes: they/them used for Yuu, their ex is implied to be kind of a shit person, other dorms can be found here (x) Ortho is somewhat included in Idia's part but does not have one of his own.

Kalim- "Do you have any other things from your world?"

Kalim has expressed a desire for you to see as much of Twisted Wonderland as possible, and he stands by that, but it would really suck if the only physical connection you had to your home was something that brought up painful memories. Your past relationship isn't something that makes him jealous, just concerned since it clearly causes you distress. He can wait to get you more appropriate clothing until after he makes sure you're ok. If the sweatshirt really is the only thing you have from home, he'll be asking if there are any foods you remember or activities you liked to do with the people you actually cared about that the two of you can recreate in Twisted Wonderland. That way you won't have to feel the need to hold onto something painful and he gets to make you happy.

Jamil- "Then why didn't you get rid of it before you came here?"

On the one hand he does feel a bit second rate at the thought of you holding onto something form an ex, but his primary concern is the implication that your financial straights have always been this... dire. He definitely wants to know about your previous relationship so he can judge them for how much better he is, but once he notices that the memories are a bit on the traumatic side he stops pushing and feels just the slightest bit guilty. But really, if it's something that hurts you to hold onto then why do it? You aren't him, you don't need to do that, people love you and want to take care of you, him included. He's not going to just give you his hoodie, he would literally die of embarrassment, but he does get you a sweatshirt. If for no other reason than to keep him from staring holes into your back now that he knows where the other one came from.

Vil- "It doesn't suit you at all."

If his treatment of Epel is anything to go by, Vil is not above spending money on something he considers to be a pet project. Not that this... friendship is one of those, nor is he particularly jealous of some no name extra who was too blind to beg on their hands and knees to get back in your good graces. Not that he needs to do that you understand; as arrogant as Vil has a reputation for being, he is one of the people who has been more genuine when expressing concern and gratitude for you. His comment isn't meant to be a slight, clothing that makes you feel bad about yourself is failing to do its job as fashion, and as a world class super model that is unacceptable. In other words get in the car looser we're going shopping.

Rook- "Ah, I thought it was something like that."

Is it bad if he says he meant he hoped it was something like that? Not that he was rooting for your ex to be a bad person, he would never wish a subpar lover on you. But when he saw the tattered edges of your sweatshirt and how it clashed with the things you bought for yourself, he hoped that maybe someone in your world hadn't wanted your hands to be cold. If that's not the case, then if you are ok with letting it go as a lover of romance who is he to deny you your freedom? Granted tossing roses onto a fire while you burn an ugly sweatshirt is both very extra and very Rook but hey. He's having fun and you've got a new jacket.

Epel- "Afford shamford I could'a just made ya one!"

Offering their sweetheart their hoodie is something manly tall guys get to do and Epel has really really REALLY. Been looking forward to getting to that point in his relationship with you. He wants to feel like a real man, like your real man to be specific. The thought of some other piece of shit getting to do that first and treating you like a used dish rag pisses him off. Best believe he is huffing and puffing his way back to Grandma Felmier's boot camp with a mission to do you one and your ex two better by knitting you a pullover to go with your uniform. Everything that comes from Harveston is a top quality product prefect, better than whatever you left behind he guarantees it.

Idia- "So this is that kind of route huh..."

Of course you had a partner back in your world, if he can see your good points then a normie absolutely could. That doesn't make you less appealing, it just makes him feel all that more convinced he doesn't have a chance. He's halfway through whipping out his tablet to excuse himself when Ortho asks what you meant by "shitty memories" and they both get blindsided by just how much vitriol you have for a person whose clothing you technically kept on you. And suddenly he's back in business because there are few things that unite Idia with someone faster than a good old fashion bitch fest. Sure, his insults are weirdly possessive of you, but if he had any doubts about your feelings for this person he doesn't now! He's never heard you talk about anyone like this before and he finds it so attractive he almost forgets to short circuit when Ortho convinces you to try on his hoodie. Almost.

Malleus- "..."

Sometimes he feels like a broken record, constantly marveling at how little fear you have of him, but really child of man, you have no fear. Malleus has very little in the way of emotional intelligence, so he doesn't fully understand that what he is feeling is jealousy he just knows the thought of you with someone else's clothes hurts. Unfortunately for you both, in addition to not being emotionally intelligent he also isn't with the times and there is a non zero percent chance he will be bringing you a cloak and be genuinely confused when you don't immediately replace your old hide for his. (Lilia takes responsibility for that, he was making a joke honest.) Oh? The point was it's supposed to be something he wore so you can feel closer to him when he's gone? Well why didn't you say so child of man, he is more than willing to offer you a scale- what do you mean you can't wear that either?

Lilia- "Oh? Are you asking for one of mine?"

Shame has not been a word in Lilia's vocabulary since long before you showed up prefect. He always buys oversized clothing because of how cute the long sleeves look on him, but oh they would be so much cuter on you prefect, don't you want to see? Oh and while the two of you are at it, why don't you let him paint your nails and do your eye shadow. He's never had one of those slumber party things you humans do, you should make a night of this so you can both get a new experience out of this. He can have a slumber party and you can be the center of someone's world. Also what do you mean you're supposed to summon the devil at these things, he's already here.

Silver- "Would you like one of mine?"

Lilia raised a very good boy who thinks nothing of offering the shirt off his back to save someone in distress. Silver isn't a jealous person by nature, he's more concerned with making sure you are safe and taken care of than he is making sure you don't still have feelings for your ex. Above all else, Silver wants to be a safe space for you to come home to at the end of the day, like a proper knight in shining armor. Though he does have to admit, you look really nice in Diasomnia colors, they're really close to Briar Valley's so if you decide to come and visit he's assures you that you will fit right in. He's sure his father would be very happy to play host. Maybe too happy.

Sebek- "HOW UTTERLY DISGRACEFUL."

You think he's upset at you but he's not, that's made painfully clear with the rant he starts to go on about proper courtship procedure. Offering clothing to someone is supposed to be a sign of high affection, nay eternal devotion! And it suddenly becomes clear to you that Sebek has somehow managed to confuse the concept of a stolen hoodie and a knight's favor. He seems to have managed to convince himself, in the span of two seconds, that you are wearing this not because it is one of your only pieces of clothing, but because your ex convinced you that they're the only one who could love you which IS NOT TRUE. YOU UNDERSTAND HUMAN? DO YOU UNDERSTAAAAAAAAND?

[stylesispunk]

'I love you, it's ruining my life'

Joel Miller x f! Reader

part ii

Summary: You get to spend your last night with Joel before he gets married to another woman.

w.c: 4k>

warning: angst, mentions of cheating. No proofreading, messy writing (possibly).

a/n: Well, hello. I wrote this because I had this idea in my head for a few days but now I don't feel like I completely wrote what I wanted. Nevertheless, here is it. Sorry if this is not my best work, but I wrote it in a rush and a part 2 could be possible. There's another fic I'm working on so I hope that's better than this one. Happy reading and I hope to have time soon to be back to writing 💌

dividers by @/saradika-graphics

Everyone around you could see it. The dilated pupils, the starry-eyed gaze, and the wide smile when you were with Joel. Everyone could see it, but Joel. You could also feel it, but it was forbidden. Being high over heels for your friend was almost a felony. Joel was your best friend, and he was getting married to another woman.

Your paths crossed the day you moved into your new house. The one next to his. You had gotten a glimpse of him a few times during your first days there. His messy hair and the crease between his eyebrows made him look in distress, running back and forth all the time, which made you want to know about him. A few days later, you learned from a neighbor that Joel was recently widowed with a small baby girl named Sarah, who had become his whole world. And you had gotten to meet him one day when he knocked at your doorstep, disheveled and with puffy eyes, carrying a crying baby girl tightly against his chest as if she were the most precious thing in the world, which, to him, she undoubtedly was.

"Hey, are you okay?" you asked softly, concern evident in your voice as you noticed the tear tracks on his cheeks.

Joel looked up, startled by the sound of your voice. His tired eyes met yours, and for a moment, you saw a flicker of vulnerability before he composed himself. "Yeah, sorry, it's been a rough night. Sarah's been fussy, and I just..." His voice trailed off, and he glanced down at his daughter, then took a look at your clothes. You were wearing a strapless black dress, and when he glanced up at you, he almost got his air cut by your gorgeous face.

You were clearly getting ready to go out; after all, you were a young woman living next to his, and as far as he could tell, you were single.

“I’m sorry, you... You are leaving. I don’t know why I came here,” he said.

Without hesitation and ignoring Joel’s words, you reached out and gently rubbed the baby’s back, trying to soothe her. "Would you like to come in?" you offered, gesturing to the warmth and comfort of your home.

Joel hesitated for a moment, his gaze lingering on you, before he nodded gratefully. Stepping inside, he seemed to relax slightly, the tension in his shoulders easing as he sank into the nearest chair. You followed suit, sitting across from him and offering a sympathetic smile.

“I just came back home,” you said.

“What?” He asked dumbfoundedly.

“You said I was leaving. I’m not.” You smiled again, trying to contain the tinkle in your naked arms as you looked at the man in front of you.

"Oh,” he replied. "Oh," Joel repeated, his voice tinged with surprise as he processed your words. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his gaze flickering between you and Sarah, who had quieted down in your presence.

After a moment of silence, Joel cleared his throat, his cheeks flushing slightly with embarrassment. "I, um, actually came here because... I need some help," he admitted quietly, his eyes avoiding yours.

You nodded, understanding dawning as you realized the weight of responsibility that Joel carried as a single parent. "Of course," you said softly, reaching out to place a reassuring hand on his arm. "I'd be happy to help however I can."

Joel let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding, relief washing over his tired features. "Thank you," he murmured, his gratitude evident in his voice. "I just... I don't know what I'm doing half the time, and Sarah... she deserves better."

Sarah.

You had learned the baby’s name was Sarah.

“My wife died during labor,” he confessed.

As Joel's words hung in the air, a heavy silence settled between you, punctuated only by the soft sounds of Sarah's breathing. Your heart ached for him, knowing the pain he must have endured losing his wife, especially under such tragic circumstances.

"I'm so sorry, Joel," you whispered, your voice barely above a breath. "I can't even imagine what you've been through."

Joel nodded, his expression haunted as he stared off into the distance. "It's been... it's been the hardest thing I've ever had to face," he admitted, his voice thick with emotion. "But Sarah... she's been my anchor. My reason to keep going." He paused for a moment. “That’s why I’m asking you if you can help me take care of her just for tonight. I just have this thing with my brother, and I found out you’re a teacher, so I suppose you’re good with kids.”

“Wait…how… How do you know I’m a teacher?”

Joel blinked, caught off guard by your question. He hesitated for a moment before his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "Oh, uh, well... I may have asked around the neighborhood," he admitted sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck.

You couldn't help but chuckle at his response, finding his awkwardness endearing. "I see," you said with a playful smile. "Well, you're right. I am a teacher. And I'd be more than happy to help take care of Sarah tonight."

Relief washed over Joel's features, and he let out a sigh of gratitude. "Thank you, really. I wouldn't ask if it weren't important," he said earnestly, his eyes meeting yours with a mixture of appreciation and vulnerability.

You nodded, understanding his need for support and reassurance, especially during such a challenging time. "Don't worry about it," you said softly, offering him a reassuring smile. "Sarah will be in good hands with me."

With that settled, Joel visibly relaxed, his shoulders sagging with relief. "Thank you," he repeated, his voice filled with gratitude. "I'll be back as soon as I can."

Since that day, you and Joel have become thick as thieves, and consequently, you have become Sarah’s best friend. The three of you became inseparable, sharing laughter and tears as you were there for each other through the ups and downs of life. Whether it was late-night diaper changes or spontaneous dance parties in the living room, you cherished every moment spent with both of them.

As Sarah grew older, she became not only Joel's whole world but yours as well. You watched with pride as she took her first steps, spoke her first words, and grew into a bright, curious toddler. And through it all, you were there by her side, offering guidance, love, and endless patience.

But amidst the joy and laughter, there was a bittersweet longing lingering in the air—a longing for something more, something you knew could never be. You buried your feelings deep within your heart, knowing that to act on them would only bring pain and heartache to those you loved most.

Of course you had dated; you went on dates, but they never worked out. No one was Joel, so you kept burying your love for him. You caught yourself in a complex web of emotion with that lingering ache for something more. What could have happened if you had talked before? But as much as you tried to bury your feelings for Joel, they remained a constant presence, a silent companion that followed you wherever you went.

And now, watching as Joel prepared for his upcoming wedding, the realization of his happiness with another woman cutting through you like a knife. Each detail of the ceremony seemed to magnify the distance between you, reminding you of the forbidden nature of your feelings.

Tess was a lovely woman, yet she didn’t completely like the idea that you and her soon-to-be husband were so close. Perhaps she sensed the depth of your connection with Joel, or maybe she simply felt threatened by the strong relationship you had forged with him and his daughter.

You tried your best to reassure Tess, to show her that your intentions were pure—that you were simply there to support Joel and Sarah in any way you could. But despite your efforts, there remained an underlying tension between you, a silent acknowledgment of the unspoken feelings that lingered beneath the surface.

However, you knew that after the wedding, you and Joel would grow apart, and you already had a plan to bear with the solace that would cause you.

“I’m so glad you’re here with me tonight." Joel gushed, bringing his wine glass to his lips. “It feels like when Sarah fell asleep and stayed late talking.”

You nodded, plastering a smile on your face. It had taken a lot of work to become this good at faking it. You had conditioned yourself to smile at Joel and respond to his questions with excitement, as your insides felt like they were tearing apart from the thought of these being the last hours of Joel being single. But you didn’t have a choice.

Almost eight years of friendship had taken a toll on you. That was a lot of time to reconsider your feelings and come back with a new perspective, but you were just burying your feelings as you always do. You didn’t want to ruin Joel’s chance of happiness, and as soon as tomorrow arrived, you would play your role and then be out of his life.

“Are you excited?” Joel asked you.

“For you?” you asked, bringing your wine glass to your lips. “Of course,” you plastered your best smile at him, even though it didn’t reach your eyes.

Joel smiled back at you, tossing himself on the sofa, his hand over his chest as he breathed in and out rhythmically, watching as you stared at your glass of wine with a lost gaze.

“What do you want to do?” He asked, only watching you shrug.

“Don’t know.” You mumbled, eyebrows furrowed in thought. Joel only hummed in response, looking around his living room before his eyes settled on the record player across the room, his eyes widening in excitement.

“Hun.”

“Don’t call me that.” You mumbled, directing your gaze at him. You were just waiting to drift off to sleep.

“Do you remember our parties?”

Your eyes opened to look at Joel trying to piece together what he wanted to do. “I do, why?”

Without another word, Joel stood up and walked across the room to his record player, standing there with a tin of dust. Trying to look for the perfect disc and allow the melody to sweep through the house.

After his silence, you closed your eyes once again, just to abruptly open them to the familiar melody of the song playing through the house.

Out of touch, out of reach, yeah

You could try to get closer to me.

I’m in love; I’m in deep, yeah.

Hypnotized, I’m shaking to my knees.

Without a warning, Joel shot across the room to you, raising his hand for you to take it.

“What are you doing?” You questioned.

You felt a rush of panic surge through you as Joel approached, his outstretched hand beckoning you to join him. Your heart raced, torn between the desire to escape the moment and the temptation to give in to the pull of the music and Joel's presence.

"I... I don't know, Joel," you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper as you hesitated to take his hand. Every fiber of your being screamed at you to resist, to maintain the boundaries you had carefully erected between you and Joel. But as his warm gaze met yours, a flicker of something unfamiliar sparked within you—a longing, a yearning for something more.

Joel's expression softened, his eyes searching yours with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat. "Come on," he urged gently, his voice low and soothing. "Let's dance, just like old times."

Despite your better judgment, you found yourself relenting, allowing Joel to pull you to your feet and into his arms. As the music enveloped you both, you were transported back to a time when laughter and joy filled the air, when the weight of unspoken feelings had yet to cast its shadow over your friendship.

For a moment, you allowed yourself to lose yourself in the rhythm of the music and in the warmth of Joel's embrace. But even as you swayed together in the dim light of his living room, you couldn't shake the nagging sense of unease that tugged at the corners of your mind. You felt a lump form in your throat.

"I'm going to miss this, you know? Our late-night dance parties, just the two of us." You whispered.

“I’m not dying,” he replied, humored.

You pulled back to look at his face for a moment, finding the words you wanted to say. “I know, but it will be different.”

You found the same easy smile and the same playful glint that had always been there, masking the deeper emotions that lay beneath.

"I know," Joel replied, his voice softening as he squeezed your hand gently. "Things are going to be different after tomorrow. But no matter what happens, you'll always be my best friend; you know that, right?"

His words struck a chord within you, stirring a mix of emotions that you struggled to put into words. Part of you wanted to cling to Joel's reassurance, to hold onto the comfort of his friendship, even as the world around you shifted and changed. But another part of you couldn't help but wonder what tomorrow would bring and whether things would ever truly be the same between you and Joel again.

"Yeah," you whispered, your voice barely audible over the music. "I know."

And as you continued to dance together in the dim light of Joel's living room, you couldn't help but wonder. What would happen after tomorrow?

You allowed yourself to inhale his perfume as you placed your head on his shoulder, containing the tears that threatened to spill.

There was silence.

“Have you ever been in love?” He asked.

As Joel's question hung in the air, the weight of its implications settled over you like a heavy fog. You lifted your head from his shoulder, meeting his gaze with a mixture of surprise and uncertainty. His eyes searched yours, holding a depth of curiosity and vulnerability that you hadn't expected.

"Have you ever been in love before?" He asked, his voice soft and earnest, as if he were searching for something in your answer, something beyond mere words.

You felt a lump form in your throat, the truth of your feelings threatening to spill out despite your best efforts to contain them. But you couldn't bring yourself to lie to Joel—not now, not when the walls you had built around your heart felt so fragile and precarious.

"Yes," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper as you spoke the words that had long been buried deep within you. "Yes, I have."

Joel's expression softened, and his heart exploded at the tiny thought of being the one you loved. “And... is it someone I know?" he asked, his voice tinged with a hint of apprehension.

You hesitated, unsure of how much to reveal and how much to lay bare before him. But in the end, you couldn't deny him the truth, and you couldn't deny yourself the chance to finally speak the words that had remained unspoken for so long.

"Maybe,” you replied, your voice trembling slightly as you met Joel's gaze with a mixture of vulnerability and longing.

As the song ended, the room fell into a heavy silence, the weight of your confession lingering in the air like a palpable presence. You and Joel stood there, locked in a moment of uncertainty, each grappling with the implications of your words.

Joel's gaze searched yours, his eyes filled with a myriad of emotions—surprise, confusion, and perhaps a glimmer of hope. He opened his mouth as if to speak, but no words came out, his thoughts seemingly tangled in a web of conflicting feelings.

“Wait, you have to tell me so you can be the next one to get married?” Your heart skipped a beat at Joel's attempt to lighten the mood, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips despite the gravity of this situation inside you.

“I can’t.”

“Why? Any man would love to be with someone like you.” he encouraged.

“I can’t because that man is getting married tomorrow.” That's it. You had confessed your feelings for him.

A heavy silence settled between you, punctuated only by the weight of your confession hanging in the air. You could see the flicker of realization cross Joel's features, his eyes widening slightly as he processed your words.

The warmth that had filled the room seemed to dissipate, replaced by a palpable tension that wrapped around you both like a suffocating blanket. You watched as Joel's expression shifted, a myriad of emotions playing across his features—shock, disbelief, and perhaps a hint of sadness.

"I... I don't know what to say," Joel finally murmured, his voice barely above a whisper as he struggled to find the right words. "I didn't realize... I mean, I never thought..."

His voice trailed off, and he looked away, his gaze fixating on a spot on the floor as he wrestled with his thoughts. You could feel the weight of his confusion and uncertainty pressing down on you—a heavy burden that threatened to crush you beneath its weight.

"I'm sorry," you whispered, the words barely audible over the pounding of your heart. "I didn't mean to... I never meant for things to get this complicated."

Joel shook his head; his expression hurt as he finally met your gaze once more. "No, it's not your fault," he said softly. "I just...”

You nodded in understanding, knowing that this revelation had changed everything between you, perhaps irreparably so. But even as the reality of the situation sank in, you couldn't help but feel a sense of relief at finally speaking the truth, no matter how painful it may be.

"Why didn't you tell me before?" Joel's question hung in the air, heavy with the weight of years of unspoken emotions.

You swallowed hard, struggling to find the right words to explain the complexities of your feelings. "I... I didn't know how," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "I was afraid of ruining our friendship, of losing you altogether."

Joel's expression softened, his thumb gently brushing against your cheek as he listened intently. "You could never lose me," he said softly, his voice filled with sincerity. "You're my best friend, and nothing could ever change that."

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, overwhelmed by the depth of Joel's understanding and compassion. "I know," you whispered, your voice trembling with emotion. "But I couldn't bear the thought of losing you, even if it meant keeping my feelings hidden."

“And you had to wait all these years just to tell me the night before I got married!” He raised his voice; he had never done it before.

Your heart clenched at Joel's raised voice, the rawness of his emotions cutting through you like a knife. "I know, I'm sorry," you said, your voice barely above a whisper as you struggled to maintain your composure. "I should have told you sooner; I should have been honest with you from the beginning."

Joel's expression softened at your words, regret flickering in his eyes as he reached out to gently cup your face in his hands. "I'm not mad," he said softly, his voice filled with tenderness. "I'm just... I'm just surprised, that's all. I never knew."

His words trailed off, and you could see the turmoil churning beneath the surface, the weight of his impending marriage bearing down on him like a heavy burden. You reached out, tentatively placing your hand over his as you searched for the right words to ease his pain.

As the weight of your shared emotions hung heavily in the air, you and Joel sat in a charged silence, stealing glances at each other as if trying to decipher the unspoken words lingering between you. There was tension, a magnetic pull drawing you closer, and neither of you could resist its irresistible force.

With a trembling breath, you meet his eyes, knowing this would be the last time you would be this close to him.

His eyes also met yours, filled with a mixture of longing and uncertainty, mirroring the tumultuous emotions swirling within your own heart. And then, in a moment that felt both inevitable and electrifying, Joel closed the gap between you, his lips meeting yours in a tender, achingly sweet kiss. It was a kiss filled with years of unspoken desires and unacknowledged feelings, a silent confession of the love that had always lingered just beneath the surface.

In that moment, time seemed to stand still as you melted into each other's embrace, the world falling away to leave only the two of you, lost in the swirling tide of emotions that threatened to consume you both.

As Joel deepened the kiss, his phone suddenly rang, breaking the spell of the moment and pulling you both back to reality with a jolt. You reluctantly pulled away from each other, your breaths coming in ragged gasps as you tried to compose yourselves.

Joel's hand instinctively went to his pocket, retrieving his phone with a mixture of frustration and resignation. He glanced at the caller ID, his brow furrowing in confusion as he recognized the name flashing on the screen.

"It's Tess," he murmured, his voice tinged with apprehension as he answered the call. "Hey, Tess, what's up?"

You watched as Joel listened intently to the voice on the other end of the line, his expression growing increasingly tense with each passing moment. Your heart sank as you realized the gravity of the conversation unfolding before you, the weight of Joel's impending marriage casting a shadow over the fragile intimacy you had shared just moments before.

After what felt like an eternity, Joel finally ended the call, his hand trembling slightly as he lowered his phone. He turned to look at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of regret and longing.

"I have to go," he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. "Tess needs me."

You nodded, your heart heavy with disappointment and resignation. "I understand," you replied, forcing a small smile despite the ache in your chest.

And with that, Joel gathered his things and made his way to the door.

“Joel.”

He stopped on his tracks by the door, looking at you without being able to look you in the eyes.

Joel's steps faltered at your words, his hand pausing on the doorknob as he turned to face you once more. His eyes searched yours, filled with a mixture of confusion and concern.

“I’m not coming tomorrow,” you said.

"What do you mean?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper as he struggled to comprehend the significance of your statement.

You took a deep breath, gathering your courage as you met his gaze head-on. "I mean, I can't be there tomorrow," you repeated, your voice steady despite the tumult of emotions swirling within you. “Not after this, so I’m going back to my house and I’ll move to New York just as I planned.”

“What?” Joel's voice wavered with disbelief, his eyes widening in shock at your words. He took a step closer to you, his expression pleading as if hoping you would take back what you had just said.

"Please, don't do this," he urged, his voice filled with desperation. "You can't just leave like this, not after everything that's happened between us."

You felt a pang of guilt at the anguish in Joel's voice, the weight of his words bearing down on you like a heavy burden. But you knew that staying would only prolong the inevitable, dragging out the pain and heartache for both of you.

"I have to," you said softly, your voice tinged with sorrow. "I can't stay here and watch you marry someone else, knowing how I feel about you. It's too much, Joel. I need to go."

Tears welled up in your eyes as you spoke, the ache in your chest growing heavier with each passing moment. But despite the pain, you knew deep down that leaving was the only option, the only way to protect your heart from further damage.

Joel reached out to you, his hand hovering in the air as if unsure whether to touch you. "Please, don't go," he pleaded, his voice breaking with emotion. "I... I need you here with me."

You met his gaze, the intensity of his words washing over you like a wave. But as much as you longed to stay, you knew that leaving was the only way forward, the only way to find peace and healing for your shattered heart.

"I'm sorry, Joel," you whispered, tears streaming down your cheeks as you turned away from him. "But you just kiss me, and I feel sick because you cheated, and I won’t be the other woman.”

Joel's shoulders slumped, and his face contorted with anguish as he realized the depth of his mistake. "Please, don't leave," he pleaded, taking a step closer to you. "I'll call off the wedding; I'll do whatever it takes to make things right. Just please, don't go."

“Do you even love me to do that?” you asked,

Joel's eyes widened at your question, his expression filled with a mixture of shock and desperation. He opened his mouth to respond, but no words came out, his thoughts seemingly tangled in a web of conflicting emotions.

The silence was defeating, and your heart sank at his response, the uncertainty in his words cutting through you like a knife. You had hoped for reassurance, for a declaration of love that would make everything right again, but instead, you were met with doubt and confusion.

And with that, you gathered your things and made your way to the door, leaving Joel standing alone in his living room, his heart breaking with every step you took away from him.

"You'll marry Tess, and I'll leave," you said, your voice barely above a whisper as you disappeared from his sight.

The words echoed in Joel's mind long after you had gone. At that moment, Joel knew that he had to make a choice—one that would determine the course of his future and the fate of his heart. But as he sat alone in the silence of his living room, the weight of that decision felt heavier than ever before.

[sosa2imagines]

lucky-bucky-boy has a really good smutty one shot about being undercover with Bucky

"Undercovers"

Warnings- SMUT! Friends to lovers? -------------------------------------------

The air in the fancy casino, was thick with cologne and desperation. Bucky, ever the picture of charm and sophistication, in a well-tailored black suit, leaned closer to you, his voice a low rumble. “Enjoying the high life, doll face?”

You batted your eyelashes, channelling your inner actor. “Only because you're here, handsome.”

It was all part of the act. You and Bucky, have been working together for about two years. It had been a normal mission so far. Until you two were told, that you had to pose as lovers for the upcoming mission. You both were calm about it.

Flirting with Bucky was the easy part, as you two were close friends. A playful banter was a natural extension of your friendship.

Mr and Mrs. Stan, socialite couple with a penchant for gambling and questionable art collections. In reality, you and Bucky were after a stolen prototype weapon, rumored to be changing hands tonight.

Tonight, it was amplified, a performance for any potential buyers lurking around. You exchanged playful swats, whispered secrets, and Bucky even ‘accidentally’ brushed his hand against yours, sending a delicious shiver down your spine. All for the mission, of course you thought…so did Bucky. Right?

Hours bled into each other, a blur of clinking glasses, fabricated interest in dubious paintings, and a well-timed ‘win’ at the roulette table.

As Bucky went, to get drinks for you and him, some guy came over and started to talk with you. “Hey beautiful, what's your name?” The man asked, trying to flirt with you, Bucky was quick by your side, gripping your arm firmly, glaring at the man. “Leave her alone.” Bucky said through clenched teeth, his tone dripping with warning, the man seemed puzzled by his response.

“What's it to ya? Can't a man flirt with a beautiful woman?” The man retorted. Bucky let out a small murmur of annoyance, as he gripped your arm tighter and glared at the man again. “No, you can't.” Bucky said, he still couldn't believe that he was being this possessive over you, he had no right. Right? He couldn't stop the burning jealousy that was building in him.

“And I don't like someone touching or flirting with my fiancée! Get away, you understand?” Bucky said, and the man seemed to see the warning in his eyes this time, and finally nodded and started to walk away. The air crackled with nervous electricity and something else entirely.

Maybe it was the wine, or the sequined cocktail dress that felt like a second skin (and three sizes too small), but your stomach was doing loop-the-loops.

The possessive nature of Bucky was a major turn on for you. Your panties, were in a twist.

The night was a blur of champagne flutes, caviar canapés, and Bucky's expertly delivered charm. You danced close, your bodies brushing, sending shivers down each other’s spine. The playful flirting, you both usually reserved for sparring sessions, took on a whole new meaning under the chandeliers.

“You know...” Bucky murmured, his breath warm against your ear as you both waltzed, “this whole fiancé thing feels surprisingly believable.”

You scoffed, but blush heated your cheeks. “Maybe a little too believable, ‘Stan’.”

Soon, Valentina Fontaine the target began to approach you and Bucky.

“You ready, doll?” Bucky drawled, the black fabric straining across his broad shoulders. A playful glint danced in his steel-blue eyes. “As ready as I'll ever be, handsome���” you retorted, trying to project confidence.

Valentina was flirting heavily with Bucky, which made you see red. You wonder, if this is, how he felt before? She was ignoring you completely, and you had enough of her touching Bucky, who was highly uncomfortable.

You excused yourself and weaved through the throng, brushing against a waiter carrying a tray of champagne flutes. One ‘accidentally’ spilling on Valentina, as her guards rushed to clean her up, Bucky like a gentleman held her purse, making you roll your eyes, as he swiftly took the key from it.

Finally, your chance arrived. Valentina, took a bathroom break. Bucky, ever the smooth operator, distracted her bodyguards, while you slipped into her private dressing room. Jackpot. A hidden compartment in her vanity revealed a flash drive with incriminating data.

Back in your hotel room, adrenaline buzzed through your veins. Relief warred with a newfound tension. You'd gotten the intel, but the night wasn't over. Here, alone in this opulent cage, the charade started to unravel.

Bucky poured drinks for you and him, his gaze lingering on you. “Good job tonight...” he said, his voice rough.

A teasing smile played on your lips. “Always the charmer, Barnes.” But the compliment hung heavy in the air. You both circled each other, the playful dance taking on a new edge.

“So…any reason, you made the waiter spill champagne on Valentina?” Bucky asks with a mischievous smirk. “Any reason, you were possessive, when the guy was flirting with me?” you teased him back.

“I was looking after my future wife…” “I was looking after my future husband…”

“Well, partner,” you say, with a playful smile, tossing the stolen flash drive to Bucky, who catches it with a wink. “Mission accomplished.”

Bucky's eyes narrowed. “Indeed. Now, about that fiancé thing…”

He pulled you close, the suit jacket falling away to reveal the familiar worn t-shirt he wore beneath. Laughter escaped your lips as he dipped you a playful bow.

“Care to take it one step further, doll?”

One step closer, and his hand was on your cheek, his thumb tracing a soft path over your lips. “This,” he murmured, his voice husky, “this feels a little too real, doesn't it?”

And it did. The line between mission and something more had blurred. Your breath hitched. “Maybe it should...” you whispered before kissing him.

It started as a release; a surge of emotions bottled up for too long. But the kiss ignited something deeper, a fire fuelled by unspoken feelings and the thrill of the night. Clothes fell away, replaced by a desperate urgency.

As soon as your back was pressed against the bed, Bucky lost all self-control.

A growl emitted from his throat, low and rumbling against your mouth. The kiss was hard, a battle of tongues for dominance. An aggressive kiss, making you moan and Bucky’s cock to twitch mindlessly against your tummy.

Bucky pulls back, looking at you. He gently traces his finger over your face. “Mine…” He leans down and brushes his lips against yours, kissing you deeply.

You deepen the kiss, your hands gently sliding down his butt. He slides his hands down your back, his fingers lightly brushing against your butt, kneading them. His kiss becomes hungry, almost desperate, as if he wants as much of you, as he can get.

“You drive me crazy, doll face...” he murmurs against your skin. He leans back down and deepens his kiss, his touch more insistent, his hands sliding over your body. Bucky kisses along your collarbone, down towards your chest, his lips finding the sensitive skin between your breasts. His breath is warm against you, as he lets one of his hands wander lower, his fingertips lightly brushing between your legs.

His lips find the spot on your neck and you moan softly. His fingers find the spot in your cunt. You gasp and moan, your hands slide along Bucky's sides up to his hair, tangling in them.

“I'm gonna take good care of you, doll.” Bucky murmurs against your neck, as he kisses along your collarbone again, nipping and sucking until he's sure he's left a mark.

His hands took your breasts between his palms, kneading them, worshipping them. He took one of the hardened nipples between his lips, sucking it with a deep moan. “Bu…Bucky” you gasped. He nuzzled his face against your breasts before pulling his mouth away, with an obscene pop.

You moan and gently roll your hips against him, the anticipation almost driving you over the edge. He pauses as his eyes move over you, drinking in the sight of you, his breathing is heavy. “You're so beautiful...” he says, sliding a hand up your thigh to your hip and leaning down to kiss along your stomach, his warm lips moving slowly.

“Bucky…” you moan, your hands tangling in the sheets again. His tongue starts to move slowly, teasingly over you. You pull your bottom lip between your teeth, trying to stifle your sounds as he slowly circles his tongue around your clit, teasing your button.

Bucky lets out a low moan against you, as he leans back, hooking his arms around your thighs, pulling you closer, as he lowers his head and his tongue finds your center again, moving slowly.

You let go of the sheets, as your hands grip his hair, your back arching in pleasure, as he drives you closer with his tongue. “Bucky…” you gasp, your eyes closing as he brings you closer to the edge.

He can feel you're close, by the way your body tenses, the way your breathing changes. He moves his tongue faster, wanting to take you over the edge, pushing you closer and closer, until you let out a gasp and a shiver runs through you, as waves of pleasure wash over you.

Your body starts to slowly come down, your eyes opening. Bucky lifts his head, stroking your thighs, pressing little kisses to your abdomen, a smile curving the corners of his mouth.

He slides up, leaning down and kissing you slowly. You can taste yourself on his lips, as he kisses you deeply, gently rolling his hips against yours again.

You hook your legs around his waist, rolling your hips against his. You can feel his arousal and it makes you crave his touch. You pull him closer, deepening the kiss, your hands trailing down his back, your nails scratching him, as he keeps rolling his hips against yours.

He groans softly, the feel of you against him causing his breathing to get heavier. He pulls back from the kiss slightly. “I want you,” he almost whispers, kissing along your jaw.

You slide your hand between your bodies, caressing his hardened cock. “You have me,” you say, leaning up and kissing his jaw before nuzzling along his neck. His breathing becomes heavier, as you find that sensitive spot on his neck and he gently moans your name.

You tilt your head back, as Bucky kisses along your neck again, the anticipation building. He gently presses you down on the bed, his hands pressing against your thighs, his lips trailing kisses up your stomach.

He lifts his head, looking down at you. His eyes are dark with need. He reaches down and gently teases you with his fingers, watching the way your lips part to let out a soft moan, your body shifting slightly at his touch.

Bucky gently withdraws his fingers. He leans down and kisses you, before shifting to settle between your legs. You wrap your legs around him, trying to pull him closer. Bucky kisses you deeply as he pushes into you, your pussy takes all of him in. His thick length stretched your walls.

His breath catching in his throat, at the feel of you wrapped around him. He bottoms out with a groan, before pulling back out again. His hips soon found a suitable pace. You break the kiss, breathing heavily, as he starts to move against you slowly, his forehead pressing against yours again, his arms around you, holding you close.  

Bucky speeds up slightly, making your breathing hitch. He presses a little deeper and your nails slightly dig into his shoulders. “Bucky” you whisper, as he hits deep in your cunt, making all your thoughts scatter.

He leans back, looking into your eyes, his name on your lips, fuelling his need, his pace increasing as he buries his face in your neck. You can feel him getting closer, his breathing heavier, your name escaping his lips in a groan. You're close, too.

“Just let go, doll…” he whispers in your ear, his hips moving faster, his lips against yours. The words push you over the edge and you cry out his name, against his lips, as waves of pleasure wash over you. Bucky shudders, as he follows you over, holding you close to him.

You moaned into the kiss, as you came hard, “I'm... I'm gonna come...” he pants as he nears his climax. He spent himself inside you. Filling you up to the brim. He collapsed on top of you, catching his breath, burying his face in your neck.

You lay there for a while, panting, still wrapped in each other's arms. Bucky nuzzles into your neck, placing small kisses along your skin, making you shiver slightly.

He slowly rolls off of you and lays down beside you, his hand lightly caressing your side. You scoot closer into his side, your head resting on his chest as he wraps an arm around you, pulling you closer.

You close your eyes, as you feel his hand run idly up and down your back. You both lay there in a comfortable silence for a while. The line between playful banter and genuine affection blurred, leaving you and Bucky tangled in the sheets, the mission a distant afterthought. As dawn painted the sky a fiery orange, Bucky held you close, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips.

“Maybe we should practice this fiancé thing more often,” he murmured, his voice husky with sleep. You chuckled, tracing a finger across his metal arm. “Just between us, Barnes? I wouldn't mind.”

My pervert brain had to write about this.

TAGLIST- @imyourbratzdoll @blackhawkfanatic @ordelixx @sapphirebarnes @ilovetaquitosmmmm @winterslove1917

@differenttyphoonwerewolf @vicmc624 @thezombieprostitute @nekoannie-chan @emerald-writes @3xclusivemariii

[moonstruckme]

I am clean from sh for about 6 months now (yay me) and lately, idk why, I’ve just kinda been struggling with accepting my scars and the fact that I’ll have them probably forever and your writing is really comforting and actually helps, so I wanted to ask if u could maybe write something with Spencer helping reader feel ok with having them on reader‘s thighs?

totally understand that that’s a touchy topic and if u don’t wanna write it, I also completely get it, thanks anyway for even reading this xxx

Ahh yay you!!! Congrats baby, and thank you for requesting <3

cw: past self harm, some nudity that's really not sexual but they joke about it a bit

Spencer Reid x fem!reader ♡ 1.3k words

You’re sweltering. D.C. doesn’t usually get very warm, but for the last week you’ve been on a streak of record-breaking temperatures that’s made your clothes stick to your skin and has caused even your perpetually chilled boyfriend to refrain from putting on his cardigan until he gets inside his work each morning. Just walking between your car and various air conditioned buildings is enough to make you consider moving to the Arctic. 

“Oh my god,” you groan, flopping inelegantly down on the bed to peel your jeans off. “Can we turn the A/C down to sixty, please?” 

“Let’s start with seventy,” Spencer negotiates. You hear his footsteps stop halfway down the hall as he adjusts the monitor. “I think we still have some lemonade left, if you want some.”

“Ugh, yes.” You tear your jeans off your ankles with enough force to nearly send them flying across the room and sigh blissfully as the A/C kicks on. 

You change out of your sweaty shirt too, going for your pajamas despite it being hours from darkness falling. You have no plans to go out into that hellscape again until tomorrow. You hesitate over a pair of pajama shorts before slipping on loose pants instead, not quite as cool but still light enough to allow some air flow. 

“I love you,” you tell Spencer when he passes you your lemonade as you come into the living room, sitting beside him on the couch. Ice clinks inside your glass, which is already forming little beads of condensation. You have the urge to rub it on your face. “I mean, unconditionally, but especially right now.” 

“I’ll take it,” he jokes back, tilting his head back so his face is in the path of the A/C vent. When he looks up, he finds you pinching up the fabric of your pants around your knees, trying to create a pathway for the air to move up your legs. “Why are you wearing those?”

You know what he’s asking you, and you intentionally misunderstand. “I felt like it was pajama time. No way am I going outside again today.” 

“Right, but aren’t you warm?” Spencer tilts his head. He looks like a particularly cunning puppy, brown eyes soft and inquisitive.

“A little,” you admit. 

“Then why not wear something shorter?” 

“That’s awfully forward of you.” You do your best to give him a smile. It doesn’t stick around long in the face of your boyfriend’s serious expression, increasingly worried. “Maybe I don’t feel like parading my legs around for you.” 

You can see the cogs turning in Spencer’s brain, and the usually fascinating process is suddenly almost painful to watch. You know he’s thinking of what you refusing to wear shorts used to mean, how nobody ever thought anything of it because, again, D.C. doesn’t tend to get very warm. How evasive you were about it then, too. An uncomfortable weight settles in your stomach. 

“Is there a reason you don’t want them out?” he asks, and his voice is gentle but his gaze is unflinching. 

You try to hold it as you shake your head. “I’m still clean.” The words seem to take more air than they should. Your guilt and embarrassment are enough to choke on. “I promise.” 

Spencer nods. “I believe you.” 

His eyes don’t so much as twitch down to your covered thighs. Relief like a cool breeze passes through you. It’s no small thing, his trust in you. Not after you’d gone so far out of your way to hide the evidence of your hurt from him before. 

“But it’s still related to that, isn’t it?” He lifts his glass, taking a sip before wiping the corner of his mouth. You almost smile, picturing your boyfriend in an interrogation room asking questions with this same gentle tone and wide open, curious expression. You don’t think Spencer could ever be harsh. 

“Yeah,” you say. What felt like something private and humiliating a minute before you suddenly want to share with him. Spencer tends to have that effect on you; he makes divulging your most gut-twisting secrets feel natural and easy. “My scars just haven’t gone away. I don’t really want to see them.” 

Spencer’s mouth pinches. “You know they won’t ever fully go away, right?” 

“Yeah.” You sigh, but it doesn’t feel like letting anything out. “I know.” 

“They will probably fade, though.” His fingers circle your ankle loosely, calluses skimming softly over your achilles tendon. “Is it that you don’t want to see them, or you don’t want me to?” 

You rub your lips together. Shrug. “Both, I guess.” 

He tilts his head. Like your answer is expected, but nonetheless perplexing. “I don’t care if I see them,” he says. His hand coasts up your leg, over the fabric of your pants, until he grasps it by your knee. “Can I?” 

You nod. You know he’d let it go if you said no, but it’s not worth begrudging him. “Sure.” 

Spencer brings both hands to the fabric at your hips, and you lift your bum up off the couch as he pulls downwards. Your legs are happy to breathe, the cool air coming out of the vent even nicer than you’d thought it would be. Spencer keeps going until your pajama pants are balled up underneath your feet. 

“You really were hot,” he says. It’s neither teasing nor gloating, a simple statement of fact. His fingers come to rest at your ankle again, and it’s the only kind of warmth you’ll allow. “Is it actually worth it?” 

You look down at your thighs. Your skin feels better than it had covered up, but it’s also a physical reminder of things you’d rather forget. “I don’t know,” you reply. 

“I understand why you don’t like them,” Spencer says. When you look up, you expect him to be as stuck on your scars as you are, but he’s looking at your face. His stare is calm and unmoving, like they don’t command his attention the way they do yours. “But I think they may be with you for a while. It might help to start trying to get used to them.” 

You blow out a breath. “I want to.” 

“I know,” he says. Easily, the way he’d said I believe you. And you think that he probably does know. Spencer has things from his past he can’t fully leave behind, too. 

His forefinger moves slowly up and down the back of your ankle, an absentminded gesture for him and a comfort for you. Slowly, his eyes dip down to your legs. You fight the urge to squirm and hide. 

“You know,” he muses, “there’s actually one thing I sort of like about seeing them.” 

Your top lip starts to curl automatically, your brows pulling together. “What?” 

“Just, that they’re old.” Spencer seems not to have noticed your reaction. His gaze is contemplative. “I mean, it’s not that I’m looking for them all the time or anything, but it’s nice to see them and know there aren’t going to be any new ones. These ones will fade, and then that will be it.” 

Something new clogs your throat. It’s just as heavy as before, but far kinder. 

Spencer looks up at you. He looks sheepish, the corner of his mouth uptilted self-consciously. “Sorry, it’s a weird line of thinking. I don’t want you to think I’m always checking on them.”

“No,” you swallow, “I get it. That’s nice, Spence.” 

He shrugs. “It’s the truth.” 

You could almost laugh. He makes things so simple. “I’ll change into shorts.” 

“You don’t have to,” he says. “If you’re already cooling off.” 

“Oh, yeah?” You keep your voice light, grinning at him as you shuffle over to straddle his lap. His fingers brush over a couple of the lines on your thigh as he brings them around your back, and the sensation doesn’t make you feel as shuddery as usual. You hug him with your arms around his neck. “You’re cool with me just staying like this then? No pants?” 

“Not if you don’t want to wear them,” he says agreeably. 

You laugh and hug him harder. “Thanks,” you tell him sincerely. 

Spencer only makes a soft dismissive sound as he hugs you back. 

[aphroditelovesu]

Hi, can you please write a Yan!Daenerys prompt 27?

[27]; "My dark nature is a reflection of the depth of my love for you. I know I'm a monster, but I'm your monster."

❝tw: mention of death, mildly angst (?) and obsessive behavior.

The smell of ash and blood filled King's Landing almost like a plague. The screams of those burned by Drogon, once so excruciating, became just uncomfortable memories in Daenerys' mind.

For that was all they would eventually become. It wasn't right but Daenerys didn't care. She no longer cared about becoming what she became. As long as she had you in her life, the entire world could be consumed by dragon fire.

You were all that mattered to her.

Daenerys watched the devastation around her, her eyes fixed on the smoldering ruins of the city that once represented the heart of the Realm. Her expression was a mix of cold determination and a rare tenderness reserved only for you.

She did it for you. All for you.

"I did this for us. For you." Daenerys whispered in awe, more to herself than anyone else. Your presence beside her was an anchor amidst the chaos, a shining light in the darkness she had created.

You looked at her as if you no longer recognized her and, in a way, that was true. This was no longer the Daenerys you knew and once loved. This was a shell of what she once was.

A woman dominated by grief and the fear of losing someone else she loved. And only the gods knew what Daenerys would do to the world if something happened to you.

"Some things need to be destroyed so that others can flourish." She continued, turning to look at you. "They would never understand. They would never accept the world I want to build."

You felt the weight of his words, the intensity of his gaze. There was a deep pain there, a loneliness that only you seemed able to alleviate. Even with all the power and destruction she commanded, Daenerys was, deep down, a woman looking for love and acceptance. And she wanted that from you, just you.

Her gaze, although filled with burning passion, had a coldness that hadn't existed before. The glow in her eyes was now more intense, but also emptier, as if an essential part of her humanity had been consumed by the fire of her own despair.

And it hurt. The sight of a person you loved, maybe still love, being destroyed like this was too much to bear.

"You didn't have to do that." You tried to say, trying to reach the real Daenerys that remained somewhere inside her. "You didn't need to destroy King's Landing, you didn't need to burn all those people and destroy their home. There was another way, there always is."

But your words seemed to be lost in the freezing winter wind, swallowed by the distant sound of echoes from a city in ruins. She lifted her head and the strength in her voice left no room for doubt. "I can't go back anymore." She declared. "What's done is done. And now, you're all I have."

There was a palpable fear in her words, a fear of what might happen if you walked away, a fear that made her cry out for your presence, not just as a partner, but as her anchor in a sea of ​​uncertainty. Not that she would let you get away, but she wouldn't want to hold you prisoner.

Daenerys looked at you with an intensity that mixed love and despair, her voice a painful whisper filled with truth. "My dark nature is a reflection of the depth of my love for you. I know I'm a monster, but I'm your monster."

Her words seemed to hang heavy in the air like a sentence of condemnation and devotion at the same time. She was not just revealing herself, but giving herself completely, displaying her scars and shadows as if they were a sign of absolute love.

What was left of Daenerys, the woman you loved and feared, was desperate to hold on to what she still could hold, even if it meant sacrificing the world around her. And when you looked into her violet eyes, you knew there was no going back.

She was your monster. Your queen. And she loved you so hard that she would be willing to burn the world to the ground, even if that wasn't your desire. It didn't matter in the end, though. Daenerys would always hold on to you.

[twistedwonderlandimaginesblog]

If you already made a request like this or if this request makes you uncomfortable in some way you can just ignore it, I don't mind

Could I request a headcanon with the Octavinelle trio, Idia and Malleus with a s/o who's always wearing clothes that cover as much of their body as possible? Like hodies, pants, long skirts, etc

But one day s/o finally takes the courage to tell and show the reason for that. The reason is that s/o has various scars across their body and they're pretty insecure of them (you don't need to specify where they came from)

Love your work and hope you have a great day 💜

Azul Ashengrotto:

Azul understood perfectly well how it felt to be insecure about your body. While your issues didn’t perfectly align, he couldn’t pretend he didn’t understand at least part of your pain, though he tried to keep that secret close to his chest while he comforted you. He assured you that your sense of style had class and that’s why the other students didn’t get it, imploring you to ignore the rumors as only you had the right to pick what suited you best. He doesn’t know if there’s a way to help you gain confidence but he would try to support you to the best of his ability.  

Floyd Leech:

Floyd did notice your fashion choices but it had never bothered him, he just figured land-dwellers had their own thing going on and thought nothing else of it. Scars, however, were cool as hell in his eyes and he told you to show them off more often, even if it was just to him. He’s interested in the story behind them but even he shows tact at times, or perhaps he was simply distracted, but either way he didn’t push the subject much further. He’s already threatening enough that most people aren’t stupid enough to speak poorly of you when he’s around, so you could at least have that peace of mind.

Idia Shroud:

Idia had never questioned your fashion sense even when others might’ve, as he was used to rumors or gossip spreading about him. He never suspected he’d unlock another portion of your potentially tragic backstory, avoiding direct eye contact with your scars to avoid being rude. He thinks it’ s true that everyone has scars, some more visible than others, and hiding them away is another form of defense. He quietly appreciated the level up in trust, becoming more vocal if he heard people speaking negatively about your clothing choices.

Jade Leech:

Jade had sneaked peaks of scarred skin once or twice but had never questioned it, happy to smile on and pretend he saw nothing until the right moment strikes for him to ask. He’s highly aware of the rumors being spread, listening to each carefully and locating their sources for further investigation. He can see how easily you’re bothered by the words of others and when you finally tell him about your scars, he began to understand Floyd’s ‘protective instincts’ a little more. Thankfully he had already done the work of finding out who was causing your stress and he'd have them handled in no time at all.

Malleus Draconia:

Malleus listened intently to your story, hiding the anger gathering deep in his chest as he remembered all the rumors that drove you to confess this now. He had no doubt he could shut them down but the pain they had inflicted on you was already clear, meaning he was just a tad too late to completely protect you. He won’t make that same mistake again, stroking your hair and soothing you as he thought of the best ways to strike at your foes quickly, in a way that would assure their silence without drawing too much attention back to him.

[bwabys-scenarios]

Jealousy

Illumi x Fem!Reader

warnings: slight dubcon(?), fingering

A/N: I’M BACK FROM HIATUS!! This is just a lil something I came up with, there’s more illumi content coming. Just be patient with me!

HXH NSFW taglist: @lightshowerrr @jungtoast @nenggie @pannacottababy @aliceattheart @atransmuter

Illumi has recently realized that he doesn’t like seeing you around other men.

You wouldn’t think he even cared as an outsider looking in. His demeanor is calm, his eyes dark and unemotional as he watches you from across the room.

Your job for the mission was to temporarily entertain a high ranking member in the local mafia. The man was all up on you, breathing on your neck and keeping your body flush against his as he laughed and sipped at his whiskey.

Illumi didn’t care for you that much, you were just supposed to be a pawn to him, something that helped by using your feminine charm and easygoing personality to further his goals.

But… as blood dropped down his hand after shattering the glass he’d been holding, he realized that perhaps… you weren’t something so simple to him.

Illumi was across the room in a second, pulling you away and towards the bathroom. At first you struggled, but his touch turned… possessive. His grip on your wrist was tight, and you couldn’t pull away.

“Quiet. Just… need you for a moment.”

He stared at you once you were locked in the bathroom, his eyes unreadable. His hand reached out to cup your cheek with as much gentleness as he could muster.

As if testing the waters, he brushed his thumb over your lip, observing you like a cat would a timid mouse.

“W-what are you doing..?”

Illumi stayed quiet for a moment, frowning a little. “Trying to understand why I get so angry when another man touches you…”

This made your face feel hot, but you were unable to turn away when he was holding your face firmly in his hand.

He sighed, narrowing his eyes and tilting your face in several different directions before moving his hands from your face to your shirt.

“I-Illumi-!”

He lifted your shirt, examining your bra before pushing it up to reveal your perky, already hardening nipples.

“Hmm…”

Illumi had never had any interest in the female form before, but something was compelling him to see more, to touch and feel all of you. His body felt strangely warm and his pants tight, it was… uncomfortable.

“What are you doing to me, (Name)? Is it some drug? Some nen curse?” he asked as he pinched and rolled your perky buds between his nimble, pale fingers.

You couldn’t do anything but whimper. It felt… exciting, and even if you wanted him to stop it’s not like you could take a trained assassin on in a fight… so you let him continue.

He was completely concentrated on you, unable to tear his eyes away from your half naked and trembling body.

“Hmm…”

Illumi felt the strangest urge, one he’d never felt once before in his life. Looking down at your hazy eyes and soft, plump lips… he couldn’t help but lean down.

Before he knew it his lips were on yours and his hands were dipping to your hips, tugging your pants down and slipping his fingers into your panties.

As his tongue entered your mouth, his finger penetrated you, making you gasp out. “M-Mmph, Illumi!”

‘This feeling…’

His head felt fuzzy, his body warm and ever so needy. What exactly did he need? Why was he so desperate to get it?

The second he felt your pussy clench around his fingers, things slowly started to fall into place. Why he didn’t like other men around you, what that feeling that pervaded his mind was…

He pulled his mouth away from yours, a strand of saliva connecting your tongues. You felt hot and heavy, already soaking through your panties.

“This… was informative.”

You nearly fell on your face when Illumi licked your essence from his fingers before pulling your pants back up, even being so gracious to button them got you.

“I’ll expect you in my room later tonight to… discuss the mission.” he said softly, turning away to walk out of the bathroom door.

“M-mhm…”

You were still recovering from the shock of his sudden shift in behavior and your orgasm, and he seemed content with what had happened.

Illumi walked out of the bathroom and towards his target, eager to get this mission done with.

After all, he’d get to have you all to himself once it was done.

[artemismoorea03]

DPxDC or Marvel: What Do You Mean 'You Didn't Know'?!

Poindexter's introduction episode gave us a horrifying and frankly underused plot device with a single quote. "You have all our powers on the human plain."

The argument could be that he meant the "basic ghost powers" but what if he didn't? What if he truly meant all of their powers.

Danny was under the impression that Sidney had meant "basic ghost powers", but when he had over twenty powers under his belt and more forming each day he started to wonder if maybe Poindexter had meant more than that.

But for now he didn't tell anybody. After all he was already considered 'overpowered' by the Team given the fact that he wasn't even 18 yet. He was powerful and it was clear that some members of the team feared and didn't understand that power. Be it because they didn't believe in Ghosts, didn't understand what a 'Halfa' was or were just generally freaked out by a child having powers that made immune to most their attacks.

His powers scared them and more than once he had heard the comment; "We're lucky he's on our side." and; "We made the right choice recruiting him so we could keep an eye on him."

Sure, he hadn't told them about his super hearing either but still - rude. Other members of the team had super hearing why assume that Danny didn't?

It isn't until one of these new powers develop in the middle of an important battle. Which wouldn't have been a problem if the new power wasn't some kind of EMP attack that wiped out all of their coms and plunged everything into complete darkness. People had gotten hurt - minor injuries but still.

"Why didn't you tell us about that power?" Superman/Captain America pressed as Phantom sank down in his seat uncomfortable under the gaze of every member of the team.

"Because I didn't know I had that power."

"What do you mean you didn't know?" Asked Flash/Hawkeye. "Seems like a pretty big thing not to know about."

"I didn't know because my powers are still developing." Phantom mumbled, "I get a new power every couple of months or so, it just happens sometimes. It's normal."

"It's not." Multiple members of the team said and Phantom shrunk down more.

"It is for me... I didn't know or I would have warned you guys..."

"Do we at least have a timeline for how long these powers are going to keep 'developing'?" Wonder Woman/Black Widow asked.

Phantom shook his head. "No. Dying and being brought back half-way doesn't exactly come with a manual. But, if it makes you guys feel better I'll probably have control of that EMP power by the end of the week. At least before the next power forms."

Oddly enough that sentence did not in fact make anybody feel better.

[serendipitous-girl]

𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒍 𝒓𝒆𝒄𝒐𝒈𝒏𝒊𝒛𝒆𝒔 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒍

⊱✿⊰ summary: headcanons with bakugo and a black cat girl

⊱✿⊰ warnings: swearing, suggestive comments, fighting ig, idrk

⊱✿⊰ notes: i have had this request for like fifteen months lol but im finally doing it for my pookie's bday. Happy birthday ml 🫶 im posting it now so i dont forget lol

❀ he hates you at first sorry not sorry. bakugo just sees you as yet another one of those extras who happen to have an annoying tendency to fight with him. i feel like he might respect your tenacity but barely and he still hates your guts whoops

❀ on the topic of hatred, your other classmates half are jokingly shipping you and the other half are just wishing you two would stop fighting. mina is at the head of the shipping bandwagon especially after she read a book with rivals to lovers. todoroki might say he ships you guys only because he thinks it means he wants you two to get along lol

❀ your arguments would mostly be stupid shit like who rescued who, who did better on the assignment. you guys are rivals who also get into fistfights because why not.

❀ bakugo doesn't think much of your swearing problem because he's used to it by his mom. you're just another annoying person who happens to like using some naughty words all the time (him in girl form)

❀ i feel like the way you two get closer is kinda sad but also drama yay. basically mineta was being an S-class pervert and he was literally harassing you.

❀ and it made you uncomfortable so you started to fight back. bakugo doesn't find you until the aftermath, huddled in the corner of the dorm while trying to hide your tears

❀ he didn't know seeing someone cry could make his heart clench like that. But for some reason, seeing you all teary eyed and sad made him want to punch the living daylights out of whoever made you like that

❀ as awkwardly as he can, he tries to comfort you. His large hand patting your back, not saying anything since words have never been his forte. He was used to using anger to battle his sadness, he didn't know how to help someone succumb to it.

❀ you guys sit there in comfortable silence until you explain to bakugo what happened. he'd always hated the little brat but now he was wishing he had uraraka's powers so he could throw mineta into space. how was the creep still in the hero course?

❀ lets just say the nice day mineta looked more like a cranberry than a grape

❀ you guys aren't particularly close after that but he does tend to notice you more which means his respect for you goes up. you're in combat training and you beat deku? fuck yeah he likes you now. even if you don't hate deku like he does he still thought it was awesome seeing you beat the daylights out of him.

❀ the moment he realized he liked you was when he almost lost you. by now hanging out was pretty regular for the two of you, even if bakugo would rather die than admit that he sees you as a friend. and since you guys spent time together he was around for whenever you got crushes...and told him about it.

❀ most of the time he would shrug it off, especially since half of your crushes were fictional and why would he care? he's not jealous! however you started falling for a boy in class 2b which (for some reason) was a major no go for bakugo. why would you want to date a stupid extra when he was right in front of you

❀ despite what everyone says he isn't the most emotionally constipated. it takes awhile yeah but i imagine he started going to therapy during the course of the show so he started to understand what feelings went where and etc

and one thing was for certain: this feeling was love.

❀ he started being a massive asshole after that. he went right back to always arguing with you or ignoring you completely. he might understand his feelings but that doesn't mean he knows how to handle them

❀ he was so wrapped up in his angry emoness that he didn't know you had stopped talking to the boy from class 2b, forgetting him entirely. he also failed to notice the hurt looks you'd give bakugo before you snapped right back into your harsh comebacks.

❀ the reason you guys even talk it out is during a simulation where the both of you get stuck inside rubble. you were both exhausted, dehydrated, and heartbroken.

❀ you just couldn't help but ask, "why do you hate me?" which basically broke his heart into a million little pieces. he couldn't help the way he admitted to his feelings, the way he handed you his heart in hopes you'd keep it safe...and safe you did.

❀ if you two as rivals were bad you two dating is even worse. you guys are the ultimate power couple, able to tear anybody down with a few well placed sneers and snorts.

❀ everybody either loves or hates you guys. mina obviously loves you guys even if you two are constantly arguing still plus with the added of you two tag teaming one person. she loves when she manifests things.

❀ you guys still have that silly banter and with your tempers. but now you guys made up your arguments with kisses and cuddles

❀ you guys aren't allowed to get paired together for assignments because you are either bickering or making out. and aizawa is too tired to try to stop it.

lori © 2024. please don't copy, modify, or do anything weird with my writing! i like reblogs and comments but please be kind as this was my writing.

[starrydragoness]

Hii, i hope this doesnt sound too weird or anything (im really new to requesting), but can i request a safeword scenerio for dr Ratio? Maybe he is uptight because of some idiots he had to deal with, or nervy because of overworking, and in bed he starts to talk and move harsher than usual, making his s/o safewording. If possible please also how he would take care of them afterwards, thank you :D!

A/N: Thank you for your request! I do hope this is what you had in mind :) Implemented some of my own hcs into this, so I do hope Ratio isn't too OOC. I just don't see him as mean or harsh with his s/o as I see some people portray him as- Gosh I can ramble sm about him, I'll stop here. Please send more Dr Ratio asks/requests in, I'd love to ramble about him

Content: NSFW, mdni! Ratio being a secret sap inside(?), gn reader but can be hinted at female anatomy, no pronouns used

Fervent thrusts of his hips into yours knocked the air out of your lungs, sending your eyes rolling back into your head as shameless moans flew from your mouth in a torrent. Veritas seemed completely insatiable, groaning into your ear and whispering dirty things.

“You’re so tight, did it take so little to get you all wet and worked up, hm?” It was like he was scolding you.

You could’ve guessed how his day has been, judging solely from the bruising grip he had on your hips. You would’ve asked about it had he not all but cornered you and stolen your breath away with an onslaught of kisses and nips to your neck and chest. Clothes were torn off from you and him all the same, but somewhere along the lines it became apparent his frustration began to blur, work anger seeping into this intimate and vulnerable moment as his hips pistoned into yours with little regard. It wasn’t like him, in all his stubbornness and in all pursuit of knowledge he’d never treat you like a piece of meat. He had made a mess of you, a heap of flailing, boneless limbs and hickeys and bite marks along your collarbone and chest.

A lewd squelch accompanied the slapping of skin as his cock rammed into you. “Ve-Veritas-” you panted, hands moving from around his back to his shoulders, nails digging into his skin and leaving behind red crescent moons. “Slow down, ngh-” Those words fell on deaf ears, your moans and small whimpers being the only thing echoing in his mind. One of his big hands unlatched from your hip and came up to your throat, his fingers squeezing lightly on the sides until you felt yourself getting dizzy with pleasure, but it was all too suffocating, too overwhelming and so overstimulating, you felt your heart race and cold sweat break over your skin. 

Veritas groaned into your ear before sinking his teeth into your shoulder, bottoming out inside you over and over and over again until he felt you squeezing his shaft and fluttering around him. 

“Y-Yellow! Yellow!” 

Veritas quickly lost his hold on your neck, his body reacting faster than he had time to process it. All he knew is how uncomfortably tight his throat became when he heard you squeak out the safe word, his whole stomach churning as he pulled away. And only then did he really see how reckless he had become.

Your teary eyes stared up at him, your chest rising and falling with quick breaths to quell the fire within your lungs. You swallowed thickly, averting your gaze in what you could only understand was embarrassment but as he stumbled over wordless questions, his mouth opening and closing as he slid himself out of you and all pleasure forgotten, you couldn’t help but look back at him and open your arms in a silent plea for a hug. "Just hold me.."

He obliged without a second thought, his big arms enveloping you in a warm embrace, but he was hesitant to touch you after hearing the safe word fall from your mouth. 

He rolled onto his side, dragging you with him and letting your curl up against him however you wished as you hid your face in his chest. One arm was safely secure around you while the other hand absentmindedly ran through your hair, soothing your nape in hopes to bring you further comfort.

“My.. dearest.. What have I done? Are you in pain? Did I hurt you?” his tone, much softer and so full of concern, licked at your ears and sent a shiver up your spine. He sounded more hurt than you.

Once you regained your breath you broke away from his chest and looked up at him, all disheveled and messy with eyes still glassy. 

“I’m sorry.. But you were.. quite overwhelming- You came home and you wanted to be intimate, and that’s okay. But you were starting to take out your frustrations on me, Veritas..” you told him earnestly. There were no lies between you, and Aeons knew he’d know if you lied to him. He grimaced at your words, not because you said them, but because he couldn’t believe he allowed himself to fall that low. You felt him huff, felt his warm breath against your skin and he pulled you closer. 

“There’s nothing for you to apologize for- It is me who should be saying so. And I am so sorry.. I.. I don’t know how I lost myself so..” he trailed off, his eyes swallowing you in their plea for forgiveness or perhaps they were telling you to scold him - he really didn’t mind, as in his head, right now he felt as if he betrayed your trust. His facade of perfection crumbled as he gave into these animalistic urges and he hurt you along the way.

Sighing, you pushed yourself up a little until you could peck his cheek. His lashes fluttered as he took in the sight of you, blinking at you before leaning in to press his lips against your, the palm of his hand resting on the small of your back and pressing you against his warm body.

“Are you hurt?” he asked again, looking into your eyes. 

“Sore.. probably gonna turn into a plum later from bruises-” you tried to lighten the mood with that little joke but Veritas instead let out a sound bordering between a sigh and scoff, clicking his tongue as frowned, angry at himself. “I’m sorry…” he whispered as his arms dragged you along with him and his other hand pressed at your nape to pull your head to his lips. One, two, three, four and many more kisses fell all across your face, making their way all around before reaching your lips, upon which he placed the softest of kisses.

“I’m sorry.. I'll.. You stay here while I go and draw us a bath. I’ll be quick” He’d say as he pulled a blanket over you before sliding from underneath you. 

“Don’t forget the bath salts” you smiled, teasing him and holding onto the fingers of his hand, not allowing him to peel himself away from you just yet, and this prompts a smile to tease his lips but he is not yet ready to really forgive himself until he has soothed your bruises away.

He scoffed, rolling his eyes while his cheeks flushed as he pulled away after nodding his head firmly in return

“When have I ever forgotten the precious bath salts?”

Ⓒ starrydragoness. Do not repost, translate, edit, and/or copy any of my works. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.

[girlokwhatever]

✩ ₊˚.🎧⋆☾⋆✧₊ ⊹ nice surprise,, pt.2

paige bueckers x fem!reader

part one

that night after the live had to be one of the best nights of your life.

she wasn’t lying about coming over, less than twenty minutes had passed before she was knocking on your door. you quickly opened it, shocked she was there but even more shocked by the fact that this was all real.

“hey, it’s nice to meet you.” she smiled down at you so sweetly, tucking her loose hair behind her ear and leaning against your doorway. you noticed she changed out of her pajamas, opting for grey sweatpants instead and a different sweater.

“it’s nice to meet you too, you can um- you can come in.. let me just-“ you’re kicking your roommate’s shoes against the wall so she doesn’t trip on them, slightly distressed because is the dorm always this messy?

once you’re done you let her in, closing the door gently behind her. she’s immediately hit with a scent so different from what she’s used to, but she really likes it. she looks at you and decides that it matches your energy. that’s another thing; being in your space, your home, makes her feel like she knows you on some personal level. like in a way she’s meant to be here.

“m’sorry if it’s messy, sunday’s are cleaning days i swear.”

“no it’s alright, it’s nice. really cozy. i like it.”

deep down you’re sighing in relief, but deep down you’re also deathly nervous. you’ve never met someone like this, what do you even do?

“can i get a water?”

she sees your eyes shoot wide, scurrying into the kitchen in search of a water bottle. you can’t see her but she’s got a stupidly smug grin on her face, amused by how jittery you are. she wants to reach out and grab your hand, maybe pull you closer to her, but she remembers she only met you a few hours ago.

“here y’go!” you’re smiling with pride, pushing the glass of water (topped with ice) in her direction. she thinks you’re the most beautiful person she’s ever got the pleasure of looking at before, completely aware of the effect you have on her. you on the other hand, are completely oblivious.

all of the sudden, paige has the thought that she doesn’t really care how long she’s known you for. what does matter is that she knows she wants to hold you, at least be a little closer. so she’s wrapping her fingers around yours and tugging you towards her.

butterflies aren’t just fluttering in your stomach, you think they’re eating you alive. her hand is warm and isn’t far away from engulfing yours, but you like this intimacy. it’s soft and sweet and pure, both just enjoying the new company.

“wanna take you out somewhere, is that ok?” her hands barely found their way under your sweater, thumbs circling your bare hips. her eye contact is persistent but she’s really just looking for any hesitation from you; she doesn’t want you to be uncomfortable at all.

you’re glancing back at the clock: 11:33 p.m. you decide in that moment you’d let her take you anywhere, whenever she wanted. she’s got you wrapped around her finger, completely at her mercy. somehow knowing this doesn’t bother you, not even a little bit.

“yeah, s’okay.” your tone lets her know it’s more than okay, but that’s an unspoken understanding between the two of you.

paige is looking at you, the reality of your outfit setting in. she feels a tinge of jealousy course through her at the thought of you being a caitlin clark fan, wearing iowa’s team logo instead of hers.

“gotta take this off though, it’d ruin my reputation.” she’s got a hold on the sweater, tugging on it as you walk towards what she assumes is your room.

she was right, walking into your space. bed messily made, soft lights adorning your bedside table, an unorganized desk.. she thinks it’s fitting for you. just from what she’s experienced from you so far, she feels like she’s got a good read on you.

“i thought iowa was cool” you’re using air quotes and throwing her words back at her. you’re funny, you really are, already knowing how to push her buttons.

“yeah? but nothing beats uconn.”

you’re laughing and, was that a snort? she’s not entirely sure, but it doesn’t really matter when you’re head is thrown back and you’re looking at her like that. she jokingly takes offense, helping you lift the sweater away from your body and throwing it into some deep crevice of your room. paige is aware of the fact that she has to turn away from you, cause if she doesn’t, she’s more than positive she’ll get on her knees in front of you and beg for anything you’ll give to her.

“is this our first date?”

“i’d like to think so.”

once you’ve changed into something you both agreed to (that doesn’t have anything to do with iowa), she’s urging you out the door and to her car. as she starts to drive, she decides to take this time just to talk. she wants to at least know your favorite color considering she’s already seen you in your bra. from your instagram she knows you’re a grade under her, studying in your junior year.

you both end up finding out things about each other you didn’t know before. simple, basic things, but things nonetheless.

you have more in common than you thought. you both have little brothers, from the same hometown, you like some of the same music, you both like sports and the spring time, the little things. the way she describes her younger brother reminds you of your own, and for a second you hope they can meet each other. that hopefully this could go somewhere serious. maybe it’ll really mean something.

“ok, before you say anything, this is my favorite café and i know it’s late but they’re open all night. i can buy you a coffee or something-“

she’s nervous, she’s never taken a date here. she’s never really taken a girl anywhere in awhile. she’s glad it’s you though and not someone else.

“it’s really cute! i really like it paige.” your hand finds itself on her bicep, squeezing slightly. she feels more confident under your touch, like it recharges her. when you pull away to leave the car, she finds herself wanting to chase your touch, desperate to feel it again.

she gives into the feeling, grabbing your hand as the two of you walk inside. she scolds herself for moving too fast and clinging too much, but you’re holding her hand tight to keep her there. you don’t know why you’re so drawn to her, but you are. definitely. everything feels so natural with her, like you don’t have to try hard to impress her.

you both order and despite your protest, she pays for your drink and slice of cake. she’s insisting that you’re gonna share with her anyway so it doesn’t matter.

“so.. that was your roommate on the live with you earlier?”

“yeah, her name is evie. we’ve roomed together since freshman year. why?”

“jus askin. figured i should write her a ‘thank you’ card for being the reason we met.”

you think that’s a remark you’d usually laugh at, but when paige says it, it sounds so genuine. the only response you can muster is a smile. you’re also irrevocably thankful for evie and her spontaneity because you know without it you would still be in your dorm, either sleeping or watching some stupid movie.

“don’t say stuff like that paige”

“why not?”

before you’re forced to answer her and possibly embarrass yourself, a waiter is brining your drinks and cake. you take a bite and make a comment about how good it is and ‘paige you should try it’ to change the topic. it doesn’t work on her though, she’s still questioning you. all you do is shake your head, nervously sipping your coffee and avoiding it.

“why can’t i say that?”

“because you’re too sweet. if you say stuff like that i’m absolutely one hundred percent positive i’ll fall in love with you.”

“would that be so bad?”

“you tell me.”

looking back on it, paige doesn’t think she could’ve pulled you in any faster. she’s kissing you with desperation, seeking your warmth in the cold winter air. her hands cup your face gently, holding you like her life depends on it. you kiss her back, giving into your feelings despite all the apprehension. your mouth move together in sync, finding your own unique rhythm to follow. after you falter for a second she pulls away, fearing that maybe you didn’t want that.

you look at her for a second and catch your breath. it’s your turn to cup her face this time, her hands traveling down to your hips. you pull her back in for a gentle and sweet lasting kiss, savoring the way her lips move against yours and the way she tastes.

she’s pulling away again, moving you to her car and really looking at you.

“that was a nice surprise,”

“paige?”

“yeah?” she’s holding your hand to her face, leaning into you.

“this isn’t the last date right?”

“i’m never leaving you alone after tonight ma, take that as you will.”

₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.ִ ࣪𖤐˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚.

guys i might redo this tomorrow idk how i feel

be honest!! is it bad or mid or fire 🤑

really though be honest kk thanks!!!!!