#i don’t feel like tagging everyone in this so

[k1tty5]

was deciding where i would put each lifers hearts and then i got stuck. this is how far i got

[urno1luv]

your sana works are soooo… so good 😵‍💫😵‍💫

could you do possessive sana jealous fucking r after finding out one of the other members may have a little crush on r? ><

here it is ♡ hope u like it!!

tags: possessive/obsessive behaviour, cunnilingus (😝), fingering, dubcon? thinly veiled threats towards tzuyu/nayeon (😔)

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The atmosphere in the dorm felt different tonight, tense and charged. You couldn’t quite put your finger on it until Sana walked into the kitchen where you were grabbing a late-night snack. Her expression was anything but her usual bubbly self—her lips pressed into a thin line, her eyes sharper than you’d ever seen them.

“Hey,” you greeted, trying to keep the mood light. “Want some ramen?”

She ignored your offer, leaning against the counter with crossed arms. “I heard something interesting today,” she began, her tone measured but laced with something you couldn’t quite place.

You tilted your head. “Oh? What was it?”

Sana took a step closer, her presence almost suffocating in the small space. “Tzuyu has a crush on you.”

Your eyes widened slightly, and you let out a small laugh, shaking your head. “Tzuyu? She’s just being sweet. It’s nothing serious.”

Her jaw tightened at your response, and she placed her hands on either side of you, effectively trapping you between her and the counter. “It’s serious to me,” she said, her voice dropping to a low whisper.

You blinked, caught off guard by the sudden proximity. “Sana, it’s really not a big deal. I didn’t even know about it until now.”

“That’s exactly the problem,” she said, her eyes boring into yours. “You don’t see how people look at you. How they want you.” Her voice wavered slightly, but the possessiveness was unmistakable.

She leaned in closer, her lips just a breath away from yours. “But they don’t get to have you. You’re mine.”

Your heart raced at her words, the intensity in her eyes pinning you in place. “Sana…”

“I mean it,” she continued, her voice softening but no less firm. “I don’t care who it is. No one gets to take you away from me.”

You reached up to gently cup her face, your thumb brushing against her cheek. “You don’t have to worry about that. You’re the only one I want, Sana.”

Her eyes searched yours for any trace of doubt, and when she found none, she finally relaxed—only for a moment. Then, a sharper glint returned to her gaze, and her grip on your waist tightened, as she led you to her room.

“Good,” she murmured, her tone dipping into something darker, more dangerous. “Because I’m not just saying this, you know. I mean it. You’re mine. And I’ll make sure everyone—everyone—knows it.”

You swallowed, feeling the weight of her words settle over you like a heavy blanket. “Sana, you don’t have to—”

“I do,” she interrupted, her voice firmer now. “I’ve seen the way they look at you. And now that I know someone in our group thinks they can take what’s mine?” She shook her head, a humorless laugh escaping her lips. “I don’t think so.”

Her hands slid up your sides, slow and deliberate, until they rested just under your jaw. She tilted your face up to meet her eyes, her thumbs brushing over your skin as if to stake her claim even further.

“I don’t care if it’s Tzuyu, Nayeon, or anyone else,” she said, her voice dropping to a near-growl. “If they think they can compete with me, they’ll find out just how far I’m willing to go to keep you.”

You shivered, unsure if it was from her words or the way her touch sent sparks through your skin. “Sana…”

Her lips finally met yours, urgent and unyielding, cutting off whatever protest you might have had. When she pulled back, her smirk was unmistakable, her confidence radiating off her in waves. She sat you down, rather forcefully, onto her bed.

“Let them try,” she said softly, her voice dripping with finality. “They’ll learn soon enough. You belong to me.”

She leaned forward, pushing you down, the bed creaking with the sudden move. In the dim light, you can only see her eyes glinting, her tongue licking her lips in a slow pace, letting you drink in all the details. Her kisses trailed down, lower and lower, her mouth pressing hot kisses against your soft skin. A whimper escaped you, and you could feel your egotistical girlfriend smirking into your belly, her slender fingers unbuckling the belt on your jeans.

Soon enough, her tongue pressed against your cunt, eliciting a small moan from you. She licked long stripes for a few seconds before plunging deep into you, fucking you with her tongue. You were a hot mess, a thin sheen of sweat covering you, face flushed red from her actions.

She got up and positioned you so you were sitting on her lap, her arm snakes around your waist, her fingers entering you, and you whined into her neck, ready feeling stuffed. Sana only kisses your head, not responding to your pleas to slow down, her wrist already dripping from your slick. "Sana, sto-... stop.. mm.." She narrowed her eyes, only for her to tighten her grip on you, her fingers curling as she fucks you. You stifle your sobbing and moaning, not wanting to stop her but at the same time feeling overwhelmed.

"My love, you're mine. Let me make sure you remember that."

[redisthenewblue]

TINKER- Twisted Wonderland x Tinkerbell!Yuu/Fem!Reader Part 1 Part 2

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･Being a fairy like [Name] was definitely not for the faint-hearted. Fortunately, [Name] managed to hold her own. She was always seen as the smallest and weakest in the family, the one who seemed to drag everyone down. Her creative ideas were often brushed off in a family that preferred to stick to tradition. That’s why when Peter, a boy their age, actually showed interest in what she had to say, [Name] couldn’t help but latch onto him. Wherever Peter went, [Name] was usually right there, trailing behind. That is, until Wendy and her little brothers decided to tag along. At first, [Name] didn’t mind too much, but Wendy just had to make it worse by throwing some not-so-subtle flirts Peter's way.

So there they were, sitting by a tree, doing their usual thing. [Name] was tinkering with an old watch, John and Michael were play-fighting with wooden swords, and Peter had just given Wendy a beautiful sapphire pendant he found. “He’s given me a prettier pendant anyway,” [Name] thought, biting her lip as they focused harder on the watch. 

“Oh Peter, I’m so happy I think I could give you a kiss!” Wendy exclaimed. 

That was it. [Name] shot up from her spot, their wings jingling as they fluttered in a mix of anger and disbelief. A pale glow around them turned fiery red. Peter wouldn’t really go for that, would he?

“What’s a kiss?” he asked, genuinely curious.

“Well... I’ll show you!” Wendy said, leaning in.

Before she could land a peck on Peter’s lips, [Name] swooped in, grabbing Wendy by the hair and yanking her backward. Peter swatted at [Name] like she were just a pesky fly, which would’ve stung if it wasn’t for the fact that they were fighting for their life up in the air.

“What’s the matter with you, [Name]?!” Peter shouted.

With arms crossed defiantly, [Name] replied, “What’s the matter with me?! I’ll tell you what the matter is! It’s her!” She turned their back on Peter, fuming.

“Then leave! I hereby banish you… forever!” Peter announced dramatically.

Whipping their head around, [Name] gritted her teeth, feeling her size shrink as they flew away. 

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That was the last time [Name] saw Peter. Time passed, and she grew older, still has a bit of a loose temper but definitely more mature. If she got accepted into NRC, they would be picked up tonight. Despite her parents' disapproval due to the family’s belief of everyone filling their designated role in the village , [Name] couldn’t bear the thought of being stuck in the village all her life —not after all the work she put in. She stuffed every piece of clothing she might need into their bag, feeling her eyelids growing heavier with each passing moment. Yawning, she trudged over to her flower bed, snuggling into the soft petals and slowly drifting off to sleep.

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[Name] jolted awake, her wings twitching in what felt like confinement. Wait... why were their wings trapped? She felt around and tumbled out of a coffin onto the cold floor. 

“Nyah?!”

Suddenly, a flash of blue fire and a mop of black hair caught her attention. “I better hurry up and find that uniform before someone spots me... Urgh, this lid weighs a ton! Try this on for size! Mya-ha!”

Fire?! What in the Sevens was going on? [Name] turned to see a boy with black hair. Strangely, she sensed no magic from him, which was pretty unusual for a magic school.

“Now to grab the goods... What?! You two aren't supposed to be awake!”

“A talking weasel?! Two?” The boy blinked, noticing the glittering fairy wings and petite stature of the girl behind him. As he reached out to touch the wings, [Name] slapped his hand away with an angry jingle. “Don’t touch,” she reprimanded.

How surreal was this dream? The boy thought, rubbing his hand to ease the sting.

“How... HOW DARE YOU! I’m no WEASEL! I’m Grim, sorcerer extraordinaire!”

“You don’t look so extraordinary,” [Name] shot back, a smirk forming.

“Tch. Whatever. You... Fly! Just give me your uniform, and be quick about it! More specifically, you insect!” Grim pointed at [Name] with his paw. “I bet I can fit your clothes! If you don’t... you’re gonna regret it!”

Insect? Please, [Name] was taller than this little pest by a long shot. Anger and embarrassment flushed their face.

“Getting slapped by a fairy and roasted alive by a weasel? What will I dream of next?”

“Well, keep dreamin', 'cause I ain't no weasel!”

Sure...

“Where am I?” the black-haired boy asked, looking around.

Now that was odd. Either this guy was slow or from another planet. Even in her small village of Fairy Hallow, people knew about prestigious schools like NRC.

"Foolish human! Did you really think you could slip away from ME? Unless you want to get burned to a crisp, take off that—Me-YEOW! That hurt! What gives?”

A whip seemingly from nowhere hit “the extraordinary Grim.” You’d have to be crazy to think [Name] wouldn’t seize this chance to get back at this little weasel for making fun of her height.

“Could the oh-so-powerful Grim not sense that?” [Name] snickered, the jingle of her wings adding salt to the wound.

“NYAH?! You!”

“Consider it tough love. Ah, I’ve found you two at last. Splendid! I trust you’re the new students for this year? My, were you children ever eager to make your debuts. And bringing a poorly trained familiar with you? That’s a clear violation of the school’s rules.”

“It’s not ours,” the duo said in unison.

“As if I’d serve some lowly human and an annoying fairy! Now lemme go!”

An irk mark appeared on [Name]’s forehead. The audacity of this cat was astonishing.

“Once I get my wand, I’ll—” the glow around [Name] began to turn red, but the headmaster cut them off. Maybe that was for the best; what she was about to say was definitely better left unsaid.

“Yes, yes. Rebellious familiars always say that. Do be quiet for a bit, won't you? Dear me. Of all the students I've dealt with, you two are the first with the audacity to open their own gate and step out of it. Does the very notion of patience elude you? No matter.” The older man scolded.

“Your orientation has already begun. Let us return to the Mirror Chamber.” As they walked, a question sparked within the boy.

“What do you mean by student...?”

“You awakened in a room full of gates, did you not? All the students here at the campus arrived by passing through such gates. Although typically—”

“You came through a coffin-shaped portal into Night Raven College, or NRC for short, a school for magic. The one leading us is the headmaster of the school,” [Name] interrupted, eager to explain. Leaning in closer, she whispered to the boy, “But I believe you don’t have any magic to attend, so you might be sent home.” The boy’s eyes widened slightly.

“Well said,” the headmaster praised, “But now is not the time for such prattle. You have a student orientation to attend! Go on, now. Make haste.”

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“Orientation and dorm assignments are done? All right, new students—let me be clear. At Heartslabyul House, I am the law. Break the rules, and it’s off with your head!” a boy with cherry-red hair proclaimed.

‘He’s probably going to be a dictator,’ [Name] muttered under her breath.

“Well, that ceremony was as boring as ever. I’m going back to the dorm. If you’re in Savanaclaw House, follow me,” yawned a male with lion ears.

‘It’s hardly even the afternoon yet.’

“New students! Allow me to be the first to congratulate you on your achievement. As dorm leader of Octavinelle House, I’m honored to support you in what I hope will be a fulfilling campus experience.”

“He looks shifty,” the black-haired boy remarked, appalled at [Name]’s bluntness. How could she be so casual about it?!

“Hey, does anyone know where the headmage went? He disappeared midway through the ceremony?” a striking boy asked his fellow dorm leaders.

“Some headmage he is,” a voice emitted from a tablet.

“Maybe he had a tummy ache?” one suggested.

“I most certainly did not!” He argued.

The Red-Headed Boy crossed his arms across his chest “Ah, speak of the devil.”

“If you must know, I was searching for the new students who failed to show for orientation. You two are the only ones yet to be assigned a dorm. Step up to the Dark Mirror, and be quick about it. I’ll watch your weasel.” Crowley explained to the House wardens.

[Name] was the first to step up, revealing her face to the mirror.

“State thy name,” commanded the mirror.

She took a deep breath, exhaling slowly, “ [Name] Faye.”

“ Her soul is incredibly strong and unwavering. You hold immense potential, [Name] Faye. You’re perfect for Diasomnia.”

“Wait a minute… You’re a girl?!”

The room erupted into hushed whispers.

“What’s wrong with being a girl?” [Name] asked, her brows knitting together in confusion, placing her hands on her hips.

“The problem is that NRC is a BOYS SCHOOL. It’s completely inappropriate to have a girl surrounded by all these boys... I’ll have you sent home immediately.”

The fairy flinched at the man’s words. Perhaps her small village didn’t know everything about NRC, but it was too late for her to turn back now. She had to figure out a way to convince him to let her stay. [Name] gracefully stepped aside, giving the boy access to the mirror.

“State thy name,” the mirror repeated.

“Yuuken?” he replied, sounding more like a question than an answer. I mean, he had just been tossed into a random magic school without even knowing magic existed. For all he knew, this could be some bizarre fever dream.

“…The nature of your soul IS…….. unclear to me,” the mirror declared, and for a brief moment, silence enveloped the room.

“What did you just say?” the headmaster interjected, breaking the stillness.

“I sense no magical power from this one. Soundless. Colorless. Shapeless. Utterly vacant. Therefore, no dorm would be suitable.”

Yuuken winced at the mirror’s bluntness. Ouch, talk about harsh.

“Are you suggesting that the black carriage came to pick up someone who can’t even use magic? That’s ridiculous! The student selection process has never made a mistake in a century! How could this happen?”

Grim struggled against his restraints. “Mmmph! Nnnrgggh... ME! Let ME take this student’s place!”

“Not so fast, you hyperactive weasel!”

“Unlike that human, I can actually use magic! Let me be a student here! Watch, I’ll show you! My spells are the cat’s meow!” Grim inhaled deeply and let out a massive burst of fire from his mouth.

“I’m starting to think he’s more dragon than cat,” someone quipped.

“Is this really the time for jokes?!” Yuuken shouted in panic as flames engulfed the mirror hall.

“Everyone, get down!” warned the red-haired boy.

The boy with red eyes and white hair flailed his arms like a maniac. “AHHHHH! HELP! I’m on fire over here!”

“Stop, drop, and roll!” *[Name]* laughed, nearly doubling over as she wheezed. Yuuken sweat-dropped, catching the girl in his arms as she struggled to breathe. How could she find this funny? Finally, she gathered herself and flicked her wrist toward the flaming boy, sprinkling some fairy dust on his burning robe, instantly extinguishing the flames. A proud jingle rang out as her wings fluttered. “Fairy dust fixes everything.”

“Someone catch that blasted animal before it sets the entire school on fire!” Crowley ordered.

“Can I leave now, or…?” the lion boy groaned.

“Oh? I thought you fancied yourself a hunter. Go and help yourself to that plump little morsel!” the blonde boy teased.

“Too much effort. You do it,” the beast man shot back.

“Allow me to handle this, Headmage Crowley. If none of you are capable of catching a little creature, I’ll take on the responsibility.” One dorm leader with glasses stepped up to the challenge.

“Check it out! See how strong I am?!” Grim cackled.

“How very bold of you to break the rules in my presence,” Riddle said sternly, glaring at Grim.

“Shall we make this quick, then, Riddle? I’m afraid we don’t have much time,” the boy with glasses smirked, gripping his magic pen.

“Must you take pleasure in playing with your prey, Azul?” Riddle sighed, pulling out his own magic pen.

“And here I thought we both enjoyed this sort of thing,” Azul feigned disappointment.

“Please, I’m not like you, so spare me your nonsense.”

Grim yelped, “Myah! It’s a dead end!”

“Poor thing. Did you run yourself straight into a corner?” Azul taunted, further trapping Grim.

“I suggest you give up. Otherwise…” the redhead threatened.

“NO! I’m getting into this school, and that’s FINAL!”

*[Name]* tilted her head, intrigued. She was enjoying this more than watching the Lost Boys squabble. A part of her felt sorry for the cat; he wanted to join the school just as much as she did.

“Stand aside, Azul!” Riddle commanded, pointing his magic pen at Grim, preparing to deliver the final blow.

“Off With Your Head!”

“What was that?” Yuuken asked, staring in awe at the collar around Grim’s neck.

“It’s a unique magic. A signature spell that only one mage can use. Its name is a bit gruesome, though…”

Yuuken nodded, understanding the girl’s explanation. “What’s your unique magic then?”

*[Name]* shrugged. “I don’t know yet. I only know the simple spells I’ve picked up from books. I’m more of an inventor than a mage.”

“The Queen of Heart's Rule 23: ‘One must never bring a cat to a formal affair.’ Your very presence here violates that order. You need to vacate these premises immediately,” Riddle quoted.

“Glad I’m not in his dorm,” *[Name]* muttered. She’d probably die trying to follow all those rules. She considered herself a free spirit, prone to unpredictable bursts of anger from time to time.

“Until I remove that collar, you won’t be able to use any magic. You’re nothing but a pet cat now,” Riddle taunted, a smug grin spreading across his face.

“M-meoWHAT?! I’m nobody’s pet—NOTHING!” Grim stepped back, raising his paws defensively.

“Oh, you have nothing to worry about there. I have no intention of keeping you as a pet. The collar will disappear once you leave campus.”

“Ha-HA! Good show as always, Riddle. Your signature spell nullifies any magic. It’s quite handy. I just HAVE to respect it—ah, I mean, I just have to have respect for it.”

*[Name]* shot Azul a side-eye. No point in trying to cover up what he just said; everyone heard it.

“*[Name]*! Was I not clear that you’re expected to take responsibility for your familiar? Now discipline your—What’s that? It isn’t yours?” Crowley chastised her.

“It’s not mine?! Why would you assume it’s mine?!” *[Name]*’s temper flared once more.

“Oh... Is that so?” Crowley said, sweat trickling down his face at her outburst. “Then I’ll have it expelled from campus. I’ll even spare it from being served for dinner. My, but I AM kind... Someone take this away, please.”

“Why doesn’t he just do it himself?” the fairy muttered under her breath.

“NOOOOO! Let me gooooo! You fools better remember my name! I’m going down in magic history! Just you wait!” Grim shouted, struggling against the students holding him. *[Name]* felt a twinge of sympathy for him. He must have a reason for wanting to stay here, just like she did.

“I wonder why he’s so desperate to be here?”

“Well, that was quite the unexpected spectacle. I hereby declare that orientation has concluded. Housewardens, please escort your students back to the dorms… Hm? Come to think of it, I don’t see Housewarden Draconia of House Diasomnia anywhere.”

“And that surprises you? The dude’s a total recluse.”

“Wait a sec... Did anyone even invite him?” the boy she saved from the fire asked.

“Ah. Just as I suspected. I thought I’d come down and see for myself if Malleus had shown up. But once again, he was evidently not informed that his presence was required at an official ceremony.” He shook his head in disappointment. Something told *[Name]* this wasn’t the first time something like this had happened.

“You have my sincerest apologies. I assure you, this oversight was not intended as a slight,” Azul said, his tone insincere.

“I mean, you have to admit, he’s not exactly the easiest person to strike up a conversation with,” Riddle tried to justify.

“Never mind. All who were assigned to House Diasomnia, follow me. I just hope he doesn’t sulk about this.”

*[Name]* glanced at Yuuken from the corner of her eye, then tucked her wings behind her and pulled her hood up. She trailed behind the Diasomnia group, putting a finger to her lips in a shushing gesture. Yuuken’s eyes widened in disbelief at her antics. Did she really think she wouldn’t get caught? Especially with her glowing presence and the trail of fairy dust she left behind? He quickly turned his gaze back to the headmage, who had his back to him, facing the mirror.

“Well, Yuuken, *[Name]*. This is quite an unfortunate turn of events. I’m afraid you won’t be attending Night Raven College after all. Surely you realize that I can’t very well admit a student with no magical ability and a girl to my academy. But don’t worry. The Dark Mirror will see you home safely. Now, step into the gate and visualize the place you came from.”

The headmage turned around, only to find Yuuken standing there.

“Where did *[Name]* disappear to?”

Yuuken looked down at his feet, remembering how the girl had signaled him to keep quiet about her whereabouts. She must have had her reasons. “I’m not sure... I just want to go home.”

Crowley sighed. “I’ll deal with it tomorrow. Come along now.”

He actually believed it?!

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*[Name]* kept her head down to avoid drawing attention. It was dark outside in the Diasomnia dorm, making it easier to blend in, thankfully the ceremonial robe dulled her glow a bit.

The vice housewarden helped the new students settle into the dorm. *[Name]* stopped in front of her dorm’s door, sighing in relief for making it past all the staff and students. She turned the doorknob slowly, peeking inside. It was a four-person room. She was about to—

“Shoot.” *[Name]* cursed her luck and was about to turn around when someone came barreling up from behind her.

“MOVE!”

She jumped in shock. Why was he so loud?!

She stepped aside, allowing the boy to access the door while flicking some dust on his foot, causing him to trip and tumble upside down. Was everyone here like this? An “excuse me” would’ve been nice. She simmered with annoyance at the situation. *[Name]* huffed and walked away from the door.

“Excuse me? Are you going into the dorm?”

[Name] let out a startled scream, jumping at the sound of the voice, her light green wings flaring up in defense. She looked up and nearly fell back at the sight of a boy with dark pink eyes floating above her, staring straight into her soul.

“Looks like you snuck in…” the boy teased.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about—”

The boy began inspecting her wings. “Seems like you’re the girl from earlier… You do know this is an all-boys school, right?”

“You—”

“Lilia Vanrouge,” he introduced himself.

“Lilia… I really need to stay at this school,” [Name] broke character for once, desperation creeping into her voice. “I can’t go back home; I have nowhere…” Her eyes dropped as she fumbled with her fingers. Her wings twitched, lowering as if surrendering.

Lilia’s gaze softened slightly as he listened to her. “I won’t turn you in today, but if you want to stay, you should talk to Headmage Crowley.”

[Name] perked up at Lilia’s words. “Thank you! But where will I stay tonight?”

“Can you shrink?”

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[Name] nestled comfortably in an antique music box, tucked in with a small scrap of cloth. She watched as Lilia polished his weapon. In a way, it reminded her of the weapons Peter would describe in his stories.

“I wonder how he’s doing,” *[Name]* murmured in her native tongue.

“Who?” Lilia asked, curious.

“You can understand?!” Shock washed over her features.

He pointed to his ears, which resembled hers. They were pointed too!

“What kind of fae are you?”

“Nocturnal Fae. You must be a tinker fairy.”

[Name] zipped over to Lilia, circling around him. “Where are your wings?”

“Fu Fu Fu... Not all fae and fairies have wings,” he chuckled lightly.

“Oh…” [Name] yawned, pinching herself to stay awake. A comfortable silence settled between them, allowing [Name] to plop herself on the crown of Lilia’s head, drifting off to sleep.

[solar4seekstron]

Traitor! Part One

TF1!Starscream x Cybertronian!GN!Reader One-shot

He’s so twink coded in this gif-

Content: 18+, Smut

TW/Tags: Childhood friends, not first love shut up, smut, Starscream is an aft but a good husband and dad, hell yeah another sparkling cause they’re fun to write, angst, mentioned death, don’t worry more sparkling scenes will be added in the next chapter, awww starscreams and readers sparkling is so handsome, Sentinel being an aft as usual.

Notes: Reader is a jet so reader is a little slimmer. To make this story work a Bond with Conjunx don’t exist so the. Two can’t feel each other through the bond.

It was like any other day in the high guard. You were known as one of the highest leaders of the seekers Conjunx. While he was leading part of the High Guard. You were the one training the new recruits.

You and Starscream have known each other since you both were sparkling.

Though it was beyond being a first love thing. When you were accepted to join the high guard, and chosen to be the personal bodyguard of Prima.

On the first day since joining, you were so nervous. What was until you saw him? When entering the training room.

You never expected to see a certain red bot.

Training the new recruits. Well mostly embarrassing them. You stayed by the sidelines and watched. Hours went by, and the training session ended. And everyone started to head out.

You are following behind. Figuring it wasn’t worth trying to talk to your old neighbor.

But you soon felt your entire frame freeze when his face became loud.

“Not you, little jet. Don’t think I didn’t notice you.” He stood in the middle of the training room. Arms crossed as he stared at you with narrowed optics.

You slowly turned around to look at him. Everyone else has left. He made his way to you. You standing straight waiting for orders.

Being a Superior, you can tell he takes pride in that just by looking at him.

He looked you up and down. Then walked in a circle slowly as his arms moved to be down his sides. You just stood there, feeling yourself slowly get nervous. When he was finally in front of you again.

His dermas eventually have a smirk once he soon speaks.

”Well, I never thought I’d see my old neighbor after all these years. You sure grown into your….own.”

You noticed he checked out your frame once more. Which was a little more slimmer than his. You finally responded. ”Yeah, you’ve..changed as well.”

He let out a deep chuckle. He was a step closer with his usual smirk that he even had on his dermas as a sparkling.

He then places his cervos on his hips. Speaking once more. “Why don’t you and I meet up for lunch? Make up for lost time.” He leaned down a little. His dermas close to your audio sensors as he whispers.

“Make up for lost time.”

You just gave a small nod. His smirk grew wider. That was until Soundwave walked in. Starscream smirk away when told Zeta and Alpha Trio needed him.

He just walked past you as you stood there. For just a few minutes in the silent room.

A few months went by, and things did not get any easier because of the war. You and Starscream started to get more and more closer together.

You both getting known as very close friends throughout the tower.

The primes do not care much thanks to the war. Things remaind the same after a while, at least until he started courting you. In secret of course. He has an image to uphold.

You and Starscream's bond was something you never felt before.

The day that was your last day of the courtship, he was so sweet and loving. Careful as he held you against his chest. His kisses are sweet and sensual. The most loved you ever felt in your whole life.

You becoming a real pair since,

It continued like that for the next few years. And things are still as great as they are now.

————————————————————————————

You laid on your back against your shared berth with your Conjunx.

Soft sighs mixed with moans escaping past your dermas. Your helm leaned back, optics shut tight, a powerful need in your lower abdomen as your legs shake on the sides of Starscreams waist.

Your legs squeezing the best they can around Starscream as your arms are around his neck. Keeping him as close to you as possible.

His cervos gripped tightly on the berth sheets, his knees pressed against the berth. His hips slow with a sharp thrust. This spike nicely sqeezed by your valve begging for him to be filled with his seeds.

His forhelm against our shoulder. His grunts deep and quiet. Optics shut as well and he seems to be concentrating.

His frame pressed harshly against your own.

The room filled with both your soft grunts and moans. The sound of metal against metal slapped together being heard along with it. Your cervos stretching at his upper back. Begging for him. To go faster.

When you placed one of your cervos onto the back of his helm, you finally spoke.

”Please, pleaser faster Starscream!” You begged. His cervos move to hold your waist. Lifting his frame a bit higher so he’s sitting up. His hips soon moving at a faster paste. The metal clanking getting louder and louder.

You feel yourself moving back and forth against the berth.

Your cervos now holding the sheets of the berth, your moans growing louder and louder. He stared down at you. His optics are almost closed as he gets closer to his climax. Until.

With a final moan, you feel the warmth of his seed in your valve. Primus, there was a lot.

You continue to lean back as you try to gather yourself together.

Your legs shivering a little still while Starscream remained still. His hips thrust back and forth slowly while continuing to release more cum.

His load going on for another moment. Eventually, he was able to finish. He looked back down at you with a smirk. You smiling back as you stared up at him. He soon leans down.

Gently keeping himself above you as he stared at you with loving optics. His forhelm pressed against yours.

He finally speaking after having done a few rounds with you.

”It is done.” He finished with a kiss. You both connecting your dermas together with passion and love. Small smiles on both of your dermas while you both enjoyed this loving moment.

—————————————————————————————-

You are with sparkling. Starscream obviously. And he was excited.

You kept your pregnancy secret for a while before the sparkling inside you started to grow. The day before you can send a letter of absence knowing you’ll need the next months off to take care of your sparkling.

The news of the leaders of the Quintissons meeting was told by Sentinel to the Primes. The Primes announcing the mission for later that day. Sadly for you.

The mission is too risky and Starscream made that very clear when you and starscream spoke about it once at home.

”My word is final. You and our sparkling come first, do you hear me.”

You both stared at each other. Anger in our optics as you both stood in the living room.

Starscream was fuming. The both of you have been arguing for an hour once upon returning home. His cervo clenched while you remained unbothered.

Your arms crossed.

He then spoke once more after another moment. “You know what, I’m not going to argue with you while dealing with your mood swings right now!”

”Oh don’t you put this on my hormones! Our sparkling in me is fine. We will be fine. You saw me in action!” You bite back.

”This is different! These guys are more dangerous and this isn’t like every other training session back at the tower.” He stepped closer to you. You just stared up at him. He spoke once more in a softer tone.

His cervos move to gently hold your waist. His expression is softer as well.

”Just…for this mission. Stay home. I’ll make it up to you and our sparkling in the future. I promise…” He pressed his forehelm against yours. Small tears fall down your optics before looking down.

You just turned your helm away then and went to sit at the table. You responded with your voice quiet but loud enough for him to hear. “Just go. I’ll be here when you return…” Starscream just stared at you.

He wanted to say more. But held back, almost about to say the wrong thing.

Instead storming to the front door and slamming it shut behind him once out of the apartment. You put your helm in your cervos as you cried.

One of your cervos then moves to be placed over your stomach.

Feeling your sparkling move a little in there. Only time can tell now when he and the others will return upon their victory…

————————————————————————-

You felt yourself at peace. Taking a nice afternoon nap. Having a sparkling surely drains you when they’re not making you crave for energon. Your spark steady as your lower back feels comfortable.

Your sparkling peaceful inside you, your cervos ontop of your stomach during your slumber. That is until there was a knock at the door. Waking you up.

You tried to hold back from being fussy, you enjoy a good recharge.

As fast as you can, you make your way over to the front door. Peaking through the door hole. You were surprised to see sentinel on the other side. With a smile smile on his dermas.

Cautiously you opened the door, greeting Sentinel who had his cervos behind his back.

“Sentinel? I never expected you to be at my door. What can I do you for?” You greeted him with a smile. His smirk grew a little wider as he soon spoke.

“Well, it’s certainly a day of changes…I suppose.” You looked at him confused. He then sighed as he continued.

“I believe you’ll need to sit down for this.”

You then noticed a tall purple femme next to him. She just glanced down at you with a frown on her dermas.

You looked back at Sentinel before stepping back.

Walking to your table. Sitting down Sentinel and the purple femme follow from behind. The femme closing the door and locking it. Sentinel sitting next to you as he spoke. His voice was a bit softer and calmer.

One of his cervos then holding one of yours while he stared at you.

”I’m sorry to have to be the one to tell you this Y/N. But….the primes and High guard were not successful in the battle against the Quintissons. Everyone there became…lost.

The battle going on nods on. Until all Quintissons and bots died against each other. When I arrived. Nothing survived.”

You just stared at him with wide optics.

Tears form in your optics once more. Only able to do a single word with a hushed tone.

”No……..” You looked down. Sentinel then puts his other cervo on your shoulder as tears start to fall down your cheeks. “Please Sentinel! Tell me you’re just joking!” You begged. Looking at him with hopeful optics.

He just stared at you before looking away.

You continued to sit there unsure of how to feel. Sentinel would hold your chin with his cervo. But with the opposite cervo Starscream would use when he wanted you to look at him.

Sentinel speaking in a suspiciously casual tone.

“I’m certain Starscream would wish for you to continue moving on. So why not work for me hm? I promise with your help. We can continue the primes legacy.”

He said this all with a smile. You slowly opened your intake once more. Your voice is a little shaky. Placing your cervo over your stomach.

“What about….my sparkling?” He soon had a frown on his face plate. And seemed almost surprised. He seemed to also be struggling to find his words, then speaking with his calm tone once more.

”They can also be a part of making the city a better place with us.” You smile a little.

But what he said next made your blood run cold. “I don’t see self as someone to raise another’s sparkling. But if my chance includes that’s with a certain to have in my arms. Then I suppose it wouldn’t hurt.”

You stared at him with wide optics. He then snapping your digits.

Some of his personal guards came in and started to grab your stuff. You stood up trying to stop them. But Sentinel just grabbed your arm as he spoke. “Calm now my dear. Don’t wish to upset the little one.”

You looked back at him. His arm moving around your waist, while his other cervo held your own. He stared down at you with a devious smile.

”Come now, it’s time to return home.”

The guards pointed their guns at you. Showing you truly don’t have any choice in this. At all.

—————————————————————————

50 Cycles(years) have gone by….Starscream is still dead to now.

Your sparkling not long after joining Sentinel…..Prime and the new order. Your sparkling was born not long after. Luckily healthy and strong. A boy. He looks so much like Starscream.

With your optics and color scheme.

His helmet color is the same as Starscream. Luckily he was born to have your more calmer nature and his sires powerful combat skills.

50 Cycles since Sentinel made you his Conjunx. You are always able to convince him to not have a sparkle with you. Everything though, wasn’t the same since for you.

You didn’t have that much free will. And Sentinel always had to have you by his side. Unless it was to take care of your sparkling. Sentinel not showing much care for caring for your little one.

Even as he started to grow.

Sentinel never lets you go to the surface, even when he said the Quintissons left. You knew something was up, but he’d always threaten to do something to your sparkling if you try to defy him.

The only good thing out from all these years. Is watching your sparkling grow into a young adult. Always with a smile on your dermas.

Just like you.

The rare times you and your sparkling, Starlight. You tell him about his Sire Starscream. The stories of his victories and what his dreams were when he got to finally meet him when he was born.

As well as the battle with what his name will be.

Starlight growing to be a very handsome mech. Became one of the councilors, of course not without working for it.

One day, when Sentinel went out the search for the matrix, Starlight helped you out by distracting the guards. Having a higher power now. You descide to try to see what he’ll do.

And so, you flew after Sentinel and his guards.

Making sure Arachnid doesn’t notice you. You continued for a while. Making a stop when you saw a Quintissons ship. Stopping behind a mountain.

Peaking to the side watching him. That is..until someone appeared behind you. You turned around fast. But the bot behind you was faster.

Knocking you out. Everything soon turned black from there.

UGH I CANT WAIT FOR PART 2 THE ANGST FOR THE REUNION WILL BE DELICIOUS! I hope you guys enjoyed this as much as i did. I live writing for Starscream. He so silly. <3 part 2 might be a while but i promise it’ll be worth it!!!!

As always a repost is appreciated and ill see you guys in the next one!!!!

[xhazzz]

Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Reader

Bagman

warnings: none.

summary: the cute blonde pilot trying to get your number. and you’re Maverick’s daughter, btw.

a/n: hi to anyone who’s reading this, its my first post so i hope you like it. This might be the first part to a small serie about how you and hangman fall in love. Anyway, enjoy. ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIST LENGUAGE, so feel free to correct me if there’s anything wrong :)

masterlist || request’s are open

READER’S POV:

Being back home felt strange, like traveling back in time. I remembered how, when I was a kid, my dad and Uncle Goose would sit Bradley and me on the piano and play and sing for hours. Now, here I was, standing behind the bar helping Penny on a busy night.

The Hard Deck was packed—classic for a Friday night. The jukebox music blended with the chatter of the crowd. The place had been full of naval aviators for over an hour, most of them still in uniform, using it as a strategy to attract women. I recognized a few faces—besides Bradley’s—since I had snooped through my dad’s files on the pilots he’d be training.

“What do I have to do to get the pretty girl behind the bar to give me another round?” one of the pilots asked, leaning his elbow on the bar and placing his empty beer bottles in front of me.

“Maybe you just need to ask nicely,” I said with a smile, grabbing the bottles to swap them for fresh ones. His uniform tag read “Seresin”. He was one of my dad’s squadron members. I wouldn’t deny it—he was very attractive: blond, green eyes, and every bit the charming prince. “Here you go, handsome.”

“Thanks, sweetheart,” he said, taking the beers but staying put, leaning against the bar more comfortably. “And if I wanted your number, would I just have to ask nicely for that, too?”

“Is that the line you use on all the girls?” I teased, crossing my arms over my chest.

“You think I’m one of those guys?” he said, pretending to be offended as he took a sip of his beer, never breaking eye contact. “Ouch.”

“I know pilots. You all pretend to be charming and different from the rest,” I replied with a sigh, wiping the bar with a rag. “You think you’re irresistible and that every girl falls for you—even with a stupid mustache, like Rooster’s.”

He glanced over, laughing, and spotted Rooster playing pool with the other pilots.

“The problem is, you’ve only met Chicken. I’m way better than him,” he said, making me pause and lean on the bar in front of him. Bradley had already told me about him.

“You must be Bagman,” I said, laughing.

“Hangman, sweetheart,” he corrected instantly, winking. Okay, he was very attractive. “How do you know my callsign?”

“Oh, trust me, I know way more than you think,” I said, winking back before turning to serve some other guys who had come up to the bar for refills.

It took me about five minutes to serve everyone, and the whole time, I could feel his eyes on me as he sipped his beer, patiently waiting for me to finish.

“So, since you know who I am, maybe you could reconsider giving me your number,” he said, leaning closer from the other side of the bar.

“I don’t know. I don’t think you’re ready for it.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw my dad walk in and head straight for the bar to take a seat.

“Hey, darlin’. You know my usual,” my dad said with a smile.

I started preparing his whiskey the way he liked it, aware that Hangman was still waiting at the bar.

“I think I’m more than ready. It’s not every day I meet a gorgeous girl like you,” Hangman said. “All I’m asking for is your number—or at least let me buy you a drink.”

I laughed, shaking my head. Poor guy had no idea what he was in for. I garnished my dad’s glass with a slice of lemon and set it in front of him.

“Thanks, sweetheart.”

“No problem, Dad,” I replied, turning to face the blond pilot with my arms crossed. He took a sip of his beer and nearly choked.

“Dad?” he asked, glancing between me and my father.

“Is there a problem, Lieutenant?” my dad asked, taking a sip of his drink.

“No, sir.”, he replied, pressing his lips together.

“Then you’d better keep your fake charm away from my daughter,” my dad added.

I burst out laughing and leaned over to swap out the pilot’s beer.

“I told you, you weren’t ready for my number,” I said with a smirk before walking away to serve someone else. After saying goodnight to my dad, Hangman finally moved over to the pool table where Rooster and the others were.

“Poor guy, Dad. You scared him,” I said, approaching my father.

“I don’t care. No one’s good enough for my little girl,” he said, rubbing my arm affectionately. “Besides, if he’s really interested, he’ll have to work for it.”

The rest of the night passed quietly, picking up glasses and serving drinks until Penny told me I could clock out. Every now and then, I caught the blond pilot glancing my way, and I couldn’t deny I felt a little disappointed when he backed off after realizing my dad would be his coach. Maybe he was a jerk, like Bradley said.

After saying goodbye to Penny and my dad, I grabbed my denim jacket and stepped out of the Hard Deck. My ears welcomed the silence after the noise inside. As I walked toward the street, I heard someone coming out behind me.

“Hey, wait,” Hangman called out. “Have you reconsidered giving me your number?”

“You never quit, do you?” I laughed, crossing my arms.

“Not when it comes to the prettiest girl in the bar,” he said, mimicking my stance and stepping closer.

“You don’t even know my name—and I don’t really know yours, either, Bagman.”

“Hangman. And it’s Jake,” he said, closing the distance between us and extending his hand.

“Nice to meet you, Jake,” I said, shaking his hand. Mine was noticeably smaller than his, but they fit perfectly.

“Now that we’re properly introduced…” he started, still holding my hand.

“If you figure out my name, maybe I’ll give you my number,” I teased, pulling my hand away. “Goodnight, Jake.”

I took a few steps away and glanced back at him. He stood there, shaking his head and laughing softly, hands on his hips.

“Hope you’re free tomorrow night, sweetheart,” he called out loud enough for me to hear as I walked away.

“We’ll see, Bagman,” I replied.

__________________________________________________________

JAKE’S POV:

“Give me 200 more, Hangman,” Maverick shouted with a grin on his face, standing in front of me. This man was enjoying himself.

“What’s up with you, man?” Fanboy asked after finishing his push-ups. “Is it because of that girl last night? The one who didn’t give you her number?”

“She’s not just any girl, dude,” I replied between sets. “She’s Mav’s daughter.”

“No way,” my friend said, laughing. “Maverick’s daughter is what’s got you so distracted today?”

“Shut your mouth,” I muttered, noticing Rooster laughing at me from a distance.

By the end of the day’s training, we were all in the locker room, peeling off our flight suits. While everyone else was chatting about who should buy drinks tonight, I couldn’t stop thinking about her. Not just because I didn’t get her number—though, to be honest, that didn’t happen to me often—but because she was truly stunning. I knew that the more I saw her behind the Hard Deck bar, the more she’d catch my attention.

“So, Hangman… last night you met Daddy’s little girl,” Rooster teased as he pulled on a clean T-shirt, followed by one of his ridiculous Hawaiian shirts. “Must be the first girl who didn’t fall at your feet.”

“Don’t start, Chicken,” I shot back, slamming my locker shut and leaning against it, arms crossed. “I’m sure that happens to you all the time.”

“You wish,” he said. “At least I can call her whenever I want.”

Rooster closed his locker and started walking out of the room.

“Don’t you dare, Bradshaw. I saw her first,” I said, following after him.

“God, how old are you? Eight? What is this, ‘I saw her first’?”

“Shut up, will you?” I sighed. “I can’t deny I’ve been thinking about her all day, and I don’t even know her name. But you, my friend, are going to help me.”

I threw an arm around his shoulders playfully, and he shrugged me off, pushing me away.

“So now we’re friends?” he scoffed, crossing his arms. “Y/N would never go for you anyway.”

“Y/N,” I repeated, biting the inside of my cheek with a grin. “Even her name is cute.”

“She’s not going to be one of your one-night stands, got it, Bagman?” Rooster said, walking toward the exit again.

“Come on, Bradshaw, I just want to take her out to dinner,” I said, trailing after him.

“Why don’t you ask Mav for her number? I’m sure he’d be thrilled to give it to you.”

“Don’t be an idiot, Chicken. I’ll buy you a drink too if that’s what you want.”

Bradley let out a laugh, raising an eyebrow.

“You’ll buy all my drinks this week, and I’ll give you her number,” he said, challenging me.

“You’re insane. I’m not paying for all your drinking this week.”

“Then I’ll call her and ask her out myself,” he said, pulling out the keys to his old Bronco and heading toward it.

Was it worth paying this idiot for Y/N’s number? Even knowing she might turn me down again—and that her dad would punish me in every damn training session? Screw it. I’d take the risk.

“Deal,” I said, catching up to him at his truck.

“What?” Rooster asked, incredulous.

“I’ll cover your tab this week, as long as you give me her number and stay out of my way, Chicken.”

The idiot just laughed, pulling out his phone and typing on it. Seconds later, I got a notification—he’d sent me her contact info.

“Pleasure doing business with you, Bagman,” he said, climbing into his truck. “And just so you know, I wasn’t planning on asking her out. She’s like a sister to me, you idiot.”

“You’re an asshole, Bradshaw,” I shouted as he drove off.

______________________________________________________

READER’S POV:

I had just gotten out of the shower when my phone started ringing. “Unknown number.”

“Hello?” I answered, putting it on speaker while wrapping myself in a towel.

“Hi, Y/N,” said a voice on the other end. It was the blonde pilot from the Hard Deck.

“How did you get my number, Bagman?”

“It’s Jake to you, sweetheart,” he said. Even though I couldn’t see him, I knew he had that stupid grin on his face. “So, are you finally going to let me take you to dinner?”

“Don’t you ever get tired?” I asked, sitting on the edge of my bed.

“Not when it comes to the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

I laughed and stayed quiet for a few seconds.

“Pick me up in 30 minutes. I’ll send you the address,” I said, smiling.

“At your service, ma’am..” he replied, and I hung up.

It was just dinner with Hangman. What could possibly go wrong?

[buttsmasher]

Gassy Roommate Paiten (Edited & Extended)

Warnings/Tags: Gay Face Farting, Underwear Stealing, Somewhat Willing Victim, Straight x Gay, Bullying, F slur used quite a bit, Face Farting, Eproctophilia

You remember the first time you met Paiten. He was a cool guy, a little bit of a gym rat, but overall, pretty chill guy to hang with. You guys would hang out a lot and eventually he moved in when Dustin moved out. 

No one really knew, but you were totally into Paiten. You were into his huge arms, his awesome abs, and his ass was awesome. The way they hugged his jeans made you drool. Like literal drool. The worst part about Paiten was that he was the gassiest person you knew. A walking fart bomb is what some of your friends called him. 

You and him would be watching the football game and he’d rip ass and say nothing. Every time, a weird sick part of you would get turned on. You could feel your heartbeat start to speed up and your pants would get just a little bit tighter. 

The best worst days were when you were sleeping and you’d wake up to Paiten’s ass in your face. He’d rip a nasty wet fart and you’d startle awake with the smell of his rancid ass. He’d laugh and rush out your room as you pretend to be disgusted by him. But as soon as he was gone, you’d start stroking your dick fantasizing about him smothering your face in his giant globes.

When it was really bad, you’d sneak into his bedroom and steal his underwear from the dirty hamper in the corner of his room. You’d always try to grab a pair and then replace it with one that you have stolen before. This time you managed to steal his red Under Armor boxers and replace them with a blue Fruit of the Loom pair. 

You sneak out of his room heading back to your room when you bump into Paiten. You stumble backwards and you look up at Paiten. “What were you doing in my room?” He asks you confused before looking at your hand and then back up to you.

“Uh, I thought I, uh, left something in there?” You stumble on your words as you try to hide the undies behind your back.

“Uh huh.” His eyes narrow on you. “So, why are you taking my boxers?”

“Um.” You drop the boxers and charge to your bedroom, Paiten grabs his boxers off the ground and follows you. You go to slam the door but Paiten gets his foot in and keeps the door open.

“Look I just want to talk, I’m not gonna hurt you.” Paiten says but you keep trying to push the door closed.

“No thank you.” You say straining on the door.

“Dude.” He easily just pushes the door open and you flop on the ground. “You a fag or something?” He holds his boxers as he stares down at you.

“The fuck man, I ain’t a fag.” 

“You were stealing my dirty boxers.” Paiten sits down on your chest so you can’t get up. He begins to rub the crotch of the boxers on your face. “That turning you on?” You shake your head no but you can feel your sweats start to tent. “You want my dick?”

“No, dude, get off me.” You raise your hands to push him but he grabs them and holds them so you can’t move. 

Pffft

A quick fart comes out of Paiten’s ass and you can feel the color on your face drain. “Wait, are you a fart fag?” 

“Dude, no, stop.” Paiten gets up but he puts a foot on your chest. You take it as not to get up. You watch as he slowly unbuckles his belt and strips off his jeans. He’s wearing a pair of charcoal boxer briefs that look old. You gulp as you stare at his bulge move as he kicks off his sweats. 

“So, you’re going to tell me you don’t want this?” Paiten turns and starts to wiggle his ass. “I mean come on buddy, everyone wants some of this.” 

“I don’t.” You shake your head no but he eyes your boner. He decides to sit down on your face without warning. He moves around till he gets your nose up his crack. It’s obvious he went to the gym today. 

“How ‘bout now.” You try your hardest to fight your hardon. “Come on take a whiff, you’ll like it.” You do your very best at not taking in a breath but you can’t help it. You inhale and without meaning to, a moan escapes your lips. “I knew it.” Paiten pushes his ass farther back so your head can’t lift off the ground and releases the nastiest fart you’ve ever heard. You take a loud inhale and moan from the scent. You can feel yourself humping the air. “You’re fucking getting off on this?”

PFFFFBRBRBRBR

“You’re telling me, that your faggot ass is getting off on me farting on your face.” You keep sniffing loudly without any reservation to what you’re doing. “Jesus christ you’re such a fucking faggot.” He begins to get up and out of pure instinct you grab his underwear and try to pull him back down. You’re unsuccessful and instead you rip his boxers. “Fucking faggot.” He ignores the fact that you ripped his boxers and just leaves the room.

Your boner is pressing hard against the fabric of your boxers as you keep sniffing the air trying to get what’s left of Paiten’s terrible gas.

After the hour long jack off session and sleeping for the night, you awake the next morning. You stare at the ceiling trying to decide if you should get up or hide in your room all day. You could live off the junk food and your laptop if you really need to. Instead you peek out your bedroom window to look at the driveway. 

Paiten’s car is still in the driveway, so it seems that he’s still in the house. You give a sigh before sitting yourself back on your bed. Then you see them, the red Under Armour boxers you tried stealing the day before. You stare for about 30 seconds before getting up and grabbing them.

You bring them to your nose and you take a loud inhale. You can smell the lingering sweat and Paiten’s natural musk. Again, you start to feel yourself chub up but then you realize what you’re doing and pull them away from your face. You will your boner away as you leave your bedroom. 

You make your way to Paiten’s room and knock on the door. You hear shuffling behind the door and the door swings wide open. Paiten is shirtless and is only wearing a camo pair of pajamas. Your eyes get lost at his chest and abs before he clears his throat.

“Need something?” He sounds smug. 

“Oh-uh, yeah, um.” You begin. “I’m just returning these.” You shove the red boxers into his hands. “Okay bye.” You say awkwardly as you turn. 

“Wait.” You stop but don’t make eye contact. “Does my ass look good in these PJs?” You turn and see him ass faced towards you. You can’t lie, his ass looks fantastic in those PJs and you’re about to voice that.

PFFFFFFFFFFBRBBRFFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTTTTT

He grunts as he lets out a loud seven second fart. “Fuuck me, that felt good.” He sighs in relief before wafting the air around his ass towards you. 

“You’re disgusting.” You say, even though you’re totally enjoying the view and smell. 

“That’s a compliment coming from you fart fag.” He laughs. He grabs your arm and pulls you into his bedroom. He loudly slams the door shut and flings you towards his bed. “Lay down, face up.” You blink twice before doing as he says. “Good fag.” He climbs above you and sits down on your chest. 

PFFFFBBRFFFFFF

The fart vibrates on your chest. “I figured there’s a reason for us finding each other.” He drags his ass up your chest and gets closer to your face. “I mean, I am the gas bomb.” 

PFFFFFFFFFFFFF

“And somehow, I get so lucky that my roomie is a fart fag.” 

PFFFFBBRRRRRFFFTTTTTTT

The smells are getting worse the closer he’s getting to your nose. “I mean, I have to take advantage of that right?” He gives you a show by flexing his butt cheeks. “And I have this fantastic ass that has fags drooling.”

PBBBRBRBRFFFFFTTTTTT

You feel a breeze against your face and you're properly bricked up now. He readjusts himself and plops his fat cheeks down on your face. “I think this can be a mutually beneficial friendship.”

PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTT

The rotten smell invades your nostrils as you sniff the gas. You can’t help but push yourself as close as you can against his clothed pucker. 

PFFFFFFFFFFFFTTT PFFFFFFFFFFFF

The sigh of relief he lets out makes your dick strain against your own PJs. “It’s hilarious you’re getting off on this, but I can’t lie. Farting on your face makes my dick hard.” 

PFFFFFFFFFBBBRFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTTTT

“I’d never find a girl into this, but a dirty fag like you.” 

PFBBRFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTTTT

“Fuuck.” He grunts as more of his sewage smelling farts fill your lungs. “I figure I could use you as much as I’d like.” You can’t argue his logic, nor do you really want to because you’re getting exactly what you want. Being trapped under Paiten’s ass is a dream come true. 

PFFFFFBRBBRFFFFFFF PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFTTT PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFBBRRFFFFFTTTTTTT PFFFFFFFFFFTTTT

Your nose gets bombarded by fart after fart and you can feel precum leaking into your PJs. You’ve never been so hard before and his ass is totally destroying your face. You feel hot and sweaty and it smells so bad, but your dick keeps flexing.

“I’ll never understand how anyone likes this. It’s one thing to appreciate someone’s ass, but to actually sniff farts is disgusting.” His hole flexes a few times before letting out another ungodly fart on your nose. It’s silent but the solid torrent of air being blown up your nose lets you know that he’s still releasing the toxic air. 

You cough hard as you finish inhaling that constant torrent of gas. “I don’t understand it either.” You manage to say. He responds by lifting up and then slamming his ass back down on your face.

“Don’t speak. All I should hear is you sniffing faggot.” 

PFFFFFFBRBRFFFFFFFTTTTTTT

You do as he says and inhale the loud fart. It burns as it goes down and you feel lightheaded.

“This isn’t a friendship or a relationship. This is me using my ass to get off.” 

PFFFFFFFFTT PFFFFFFFFFFFBBFFFT PFFFFFFFFFFFFTTTT

Fart after fart keeps hitting your nose and things begin to start spinning. You feel like you're about to cum the hardest you’ve ever had in your life. 

PFFFFFFBRRFFFFFFFT

PFFFFFFFFFFFFFTTT

PFFFFFFBBRRFFFFFFTTTTTTTTT

“That’s it faggot. Get off on my godly gas bombs.” You realize that he’s stroking his cock above you. 

PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTTT

“Oh god, that feels so good.” He sighs to himself as you're forced to keep inhaling. You’re so close now, but you can’t tell if you’re about to cum yourself or pass out. 

PFFFFFFFFBBRFFFFFFFFTTTTT

PFFFFFFFBBFFFFFFFFFFFT

PFBBRFFFFFFFFFFFFT

PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFTT

You can’t help the cry that you let out as your cock starts shooting rope after rope of cum. It’s the most amazing orgasm and causes your whole body to start shaking.

“That’s fucking pathetic.” Paiten laughs above you. “My ass bombs just made you cum.” 

PFFFFFFBBRRRRRFFFFFTTTT

“Well let’s just see how long you can last with just my ass for air.”

PFFFFFFFBBRRFFFFFFFFTTTTTTTTT

PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFTTT

Bomb after bomb hits your face and you can feel Paiten is getting close to cumming as well based on how his body is shaking. 

PFFFFFFBBFFFFFFFFFFFFFTTT PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFTTTT

“God, I’m so fucking close.” He’s panting above you. “Feels so good destroying your face.”

PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFBBBFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTTT

He lets out a rocking 15 second fart and you hear him moaning above you as he starts to cum.  The smell is starting to become unbearable now and you’re having issues thinking straight.

PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTTTTT

PFFFFFFFFFFBBRRFFFFFFFFFFFTTT

“There’s no way you’re still awake after that.” Paiten jokes as the loud toxic fumes keep hitting your face. All you can smell is eggs and rotten sewage. Everything is spinning around you now. 

“Enough.” You cough out. You only get a laugh in response.

PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTT

PBBRBRBRBBRBRBRBRBRRRRRRRR

PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFT

You feel heavy and you almost feel like you're floating out of your body. You try to push him off you, but you’re too weak at this point. You begin to panic as you realize you can’t escape.

PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTTT

A loud 30 second fart hits you this time and takes you out. You hear laughing as you feel your body go limp. 

When you awake again, you’re laying on the floor of the hallway. You have a massive headache and all you can smell is ass. Namely Paiten’s ass. You use the wall to get up and notice how sticky your PJs feel around your dick. You struggle to get to the bathroom but you make it and get in the shower.

You can’t stop yourself from blowing another load down the shower drain thinking about Paiten’s ass destroying your lungs again. 

~~FIN

[be-my-sunrise]

Court-side Fever || z.cl

pairings: bf!chenle x fem!reader

genre: smut, minors pls dni

word count: 1,826

warnings: car sex, unprotected sex, pussy and thigh slapping, hair pulling, creampie, fingering, tit play. let me know if i missed anything!

a/n: happy new year's everyone! i hope you all enjoy your holiday :D i haven't posted in a while and i apologize for not being active here😞 anyways, enjoy this chenle fic! watching him play basketball does things to me, so i decided to write about it lmao

special thanks to @onriyuview @notyourjaem @lovetaroandtaemin @jenoslutie for helping me out🩵 ily teehee :3

“Good game, dude. See you next week!”

Chenle daps Mark up and leaves the basketball court. After bidding his goodbyes to Haechan and Jeno as well, he jogs towards where you’re sitting and grabs his water bottle. 

“Babe, do you want to order food at home, or should we go to a drive-thru?” He asks before downing his water.

However, you barely heard what he said. You don’t usually come with him when he’s playing basketball with his friends, mainly because Chenle feels bad about having you wait hours for him. But you insisted on tagging along this time, and boy, you were glad you did. 

Seeing him play and watching his moves on the court after so long has you in a trance. You find yourself rubbing your thighs together subconsciously almost the entire time. It's clear that he does things to your body, and it's evident in the way your panties stick to your core.

Now that he’s standing before you, lust clouds your mind, and every inch of your body is fighting the urge to take him on this bench. He looks so ravishing, all sweaty like this, the sun behind him like a paid actor. 

The cast of warm golden light around him only emphasizes the droplets of sweat on his dewy skin, and it’s not doing much to help with your situation.

Chenle glances at you when he doesn't hear any response. He waves one hand in front of your face. “Baby?”

You blink your eyes a couple of times, waking yourself up from your daze. “Huh? Oh yeah, sure.” 

“Did you even hear what I just said?”

“Uhh… no?” You look away nervously, which makes him chuckle. “Should we just order in? You seem a bit tired.”

More like aroused, but he’s right, you are somewhat tired. Tired of squeezing your thighs together. You need him so badly that you can’t even think straight. Realizing that Chenle is waiting for your answer, you give him a nod as a response.

“Alright then, let’s go home!”

Chenle leans down to pick up his bag from the ground beside your feet, and you suck in a sharp breath when you catch a whiff of his scent. He smells so fucking good, and it's driving you insane.

You stand up abruptly, almost bumping into his head in the process. He grabs your arm before you could walk away and pulls you close. “Baby, why are you being weird today? Are you okay?”

One proper look at him is all it takes for you to crash your lips against his. You practically throw your body onto Chenle, making him yelp when his back hits the fence. The kiss catches him off guard, but he quickly snaps out of it.

“You're so fucking hot, baby. I need you so bad,” you say in between kisses and feel him smirk.

You bunch his shirt up in a fit of desperation, exposing his toned abs. Chenle quickly snatches your wrist away when he feels you tugging on the waistband of his shorts. 

“Slow down, baby,” he says after pulling away. “Let's continue this in the car, yeah?”

He chuckles when he sees your face light up. You're buzzing with excitement as you drag him to his car, quite literally shoving him inside and straddling him in a blink of an eye.

You connect your lips with his again while grinding your core against his bulge. Chenle pulls your hips down to make you feel his hardening member even more. You run your fingers through his damp hair, giving it a slight pull. 

The kiss gets messier as the two of you get more desperate. He pulls away to catch his breath and tilts his head to give you more access as you start to leave hickeys across his neck. A small moan escapes his lips when you lick a stripe across his salty skin and blow cool air on the fresh red marks.

“If I had known you’d be like this, I would’ve taken you with me a long time ago,” he says breathlessly.

“I feel the same way, baby. I forgot how hot you look when you’re playing basketball,” you giggle. “At least we know better now.”

Chenle lays you down on the seat before pulling your pants down along with your panties in one swift motion. He smirks at the sight of your leaking core. 

“Fuck, baby. You must really like watching me play, hm? You soaked through your panties,” he says as he dangles your panties next to his face. 

You bite down on your lower lip when drags his finger along your slit, hips twitching as he lands a light slap on your clit. He pushes his pants down with one hand while rubbing your sensitive bud with the other. 

You feel a shiver down your spine when Chenle taps his cock on your clit, letting out a moan as he spreads your arousal across your pussy. You wait for him to push it in, but he continues to rub his cock against your slit and you start getting impatient. 

“You're so fucking wet I could just slip in easily,” he moans, admiring the mess he's making.

“Stop teasing and put it in then!” 

You snap and roll your eyes at Chenle, which makes him raise an eyebrow at your sudden change of attitude. 

“It’s cute that you think you can talk to me like that,” he scoffs. Chenle grips your thigh before landing a slap on it, making you flinch.

“You should be grateful that I’m hard as fuck right now, otherwise I would leave you untouched,” he says as he pulls you up by your arm. “On your knees.”

You quickly adjust your position, standing on your knees and placing your hands on the backrest. You let out a yelp when he pulls your head back by your hair, feeling his hot breath on your ear. 

“I've been spoiling you too much, and now you’re giving me attitude.”

You moan as he slowly rubs your clit. “Chenle, please.”

“Please what baby?” He teases while nibbling on your ear.

You try to form words but you can’t think straight. Your pussy is throbbing and the feeling of his hands on you makes you dizzy.

“Please… I need you,” you whine. Chenle lets out a condescending laugh seeing you push your ass back, grinding against his cock. 

“You can do better than that,” he says before slapping your ass.

“Fuck! Please, baby, I need you so bad. Need your cock inside me now, please.”

A gasp escapes your lips as Chenle pushes his cock all the way inside you, letting you adjust to his size for a moment as he leaves kisses on your neck. He pulls his cock out almost entirely, leaving just the tip before pushing himself back in all the way. 

His thrusts are deep and rough, your breath getting caught in your throat each time his hips slam against yours.

“You feel so good, baby,” he whispers before pulling on your hair once more. “Always so tight and wet.”

“O-only for you,” your voice trembles, barely managing to say anything.

He chuckles, “Is that so? Such a good girl.” 

Chenle slips both hands underneath your shirt, giving your tits a nice grip before pulling down your bra. He tugs on your nipples and rolls them between his fingers, making you throw your head back to rest on his shoulder as he continues thrusting relentlessly.

The car shakes with each thrust, and only the sounds of skin slapping and your broken moans can be heard. The grip you have on the seat tightens as Chenle angles his hips to push his cock even deeper, earning a loud moan from you.

Your thighs tremble as he hits your sweet spot repeatedly. He places one hand on the back of your neck to pull you in for a kiss, and you moan into the kiss when you feel his fingers sneak their way onto your clit. 

“Baby, I'm-”

“Close? I know, baby. You keep clenching around me,” he chuckles. He picks up the pace and rubs your clit faster. “Cum for me, baby. Cream all over my cock.”

Your jaw goes slack as the pleasure overwhelms you. The way you're squeezing his cock makes him dizzy. Chenle lets out a groan, his thrusts getting sloppier as he reaches his climax. 

He pushes his cock all the way inside you as he cums, and you grind your hips against his to help him ride out his high. He presses a kiss on your temple before pulling out of your warmth.

You gasp as he cups your pussy and flicks his fingers against your slit with a quick motion, making his cum drip onto the leather seat. He tugs on your shirt as a signal for you to take it off. 

“Lay down on your back for me, baby,” he says with a low tone.

You lay back down on the seat and he spreads your legs wide. Chenle pulls your bra down to expose your hardened nipples and leans over to latch his lips around one of them. 

He shoves his fingers inside your pussy as he flicks his tongue on your nipple and you suck in a sharp breath, back arching from the pleasure. 

“Fuck, baby. Feels so good,” you moan. 

You place your hand on his head to feel him even closer as he sucks on your nipple, making you whimper. You're still sensitive from your previous orgasm, so it doesn't take long until you feel the familiar knot again.

“Oh, god. I'm gonna cum again, baby.”

Chenle unlatches his lips from your nipple and straightens his back, pushing his fingers all the way inside before curling them. The intensity of his fingers has you crying out in pleasure as you reach your second climax, legs convulsing as he pulls his fingers out and starts rubbing your clit quickly. 

Your legs clamp around his arm, but he uses his other hand to spread them apart and hold them down. Chenle slaps your clit harshly after you come down from your high, making your hips twitch. 

He grips your tits using the hand that's still wet with your arousal, flicking the bud until your chest starts to tremble and you let out a shaky breath from the tingly sensation. 

He leans down to kiss you once more before tucking his cock back into his pants. You were about to get up and redress yourself, but Chenle stops you. You look at him confused.

“You're staying like this until we get home, baby,” he says with a smirk on his face. 

He grabs one of your hands and places it on your core. Then, Chenle climbs into the driver's seat and adjusts his mirror so he can watch you play with yourself.  

“Just keep that pretty little pussy of yours wet for me.”

a/n: save me basketball player chenle😵‍��🫠 thank you for reading<3 i hope you like it!

[fushiguruuzzzz]

+ CHAPTER TWELVE // LIKE SOMEONE IN LOVE 

series mlist 

Tags — reader believes she isn’t fit for love lol, short chapter again, can you tell I’m sick of writing this series, no smau  Words — 0.7k 

Deep in your soul, you always knew something about you was… wrong.

From the moment you were old enough to look in the mirror and see the hollowness of what stared back, you made a promise to cover it up. You smiled at people in the street, bounced around in your pretty pink skirts and your Mary Jane’s, desperate to fill that gaping hole inside by overflowing it with honey. You told everyone that your favourite holiday was Valentine’s Day, you scribbled messy hearts into the empty space in your worksheets, even when you felt as if you lacked one of your own. 

Some might say you were the love you yearned for, but nobody had any idea how difficult love came to you. It barely came at all. 

Your head whipped around just a little too fast to be casual when a voice broke through the whirlwind of thoughts in your mind. 

“You okay?” 

Toge’s voice was gentle, not pushy, but like a humble offering of a chance to respond. He tried to sound casual because he knew he didn’t have much of a right to question you, not after your recent misunderstanding, but the furrow in his brows told you enough. Toge always cared, maybe even too much. He cared about everyone, but he always had a special sort of concern for you. Why? He couldn’t pinpoint it exactly, but it surely had to do with the warmth in his chest every time you were near. 

You nodded. “Mhm.. yeah, sorry. I just zoned out.” 

He mirrored your action, though unconvinced. It gnawed at him inside, every passing second a chance for the grimness to consume him. He turned his gaze back to the movie in front of you, trying to pay at least an ounce of attention to the plot, but your inner monologue radiated from you and loomed over him like a shadow. 

He glanced at you again, suddenly feeling nervous. His hands twitched and ached to reach out to you, but he had to hold them back. Not yet. He wasn’t deserving of that yet. He still had to win back your trust, to crack away at the boulder chained to him by the ankle. Even if you forgave him, the impact of his foolishness wasn’t nearly as merciful. It lingered, whispering recounts of that night into his ear when he least expected it. 

Your eyes caught on the fidgeting of his hands. Toge wasn’t all that hard to read, not once you got close enough. That flicker in his violet eyes was clear as day, may as well have been loud as a firework. 

Your fingers crawled over the space between you, inching closer. They slipped into his, slotting in like this was nothing other than a reunion of two halves. He glanced to you, shoulders easing just barely. He let out a breath, and he looked back at the screen. 

Your hand was squeezed reassuringly in his, just a silent reminder of his presence. It made your pulse quicken, your heart race faster than sound itself. It was a reminder that you had one at all. 

Love never came easily to you, but Toge was more than a four letter word, more than the butterflies in your stomach and giddiness that pulled at your lips. He flowed into your heart like the smooth breeze of a summer night, seeing the fragile girl before him and inviting her in anyway. 

He looked at you again, a shaky breath leaving him as he braced himself for an impact that had already came and went. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I know technically…” 

“It’s okay,” you cut him off. “I know you’re sorry. I forgive you. You don’t have to do any grand gestures, just… just stay with me for now.” 

Just stay. Just prove you’re here to do so, prove you aren’t the fleeting memory of a night at the bar. Prove you’re more than one love song. 

You caught a glimpse of his eyes before you pulled away in cowardice, but the soft, compliant twinkle in his eyes was burned into your mind. “Okay,” he said. “Okay, I’ll stay.” 

The end is near and I’m sorry it’s been so shitty lately, I’ve been sick and unmotivated and just trying to get this series over with <\3

I’ve given up can you tell I’m sorry to the people that like this series because I DONT … lol I appreciate the love and support so much obviously I love u all so bad, that’s why I’m so sorry like actually

Taglist — closed 50/50

@anotherwriternamedclara @ruruisru @adoresia @auroratumbles @sh0ot1ngst4r @soobin1437 @mystic-megumi @cinnamxnangel @lizbix @s3ns4ti0n4l @anonnieghost @s4toruz @gumims @bubybubsters @k4ss11333 @rreveurdoll @kaged-kitty @rwura @aldebrana @hqnge @good-mourning0 @daisies-and-domming @vi0let-writes @dazaisfavgf @hearts4aloise @coolgirl458 @keyaea @jealovsie @sirenla @academiq @mammoanlmao @moonchhu @ichcocat @blubearxy @hayl09 @q2uq2u @potteraep @fiannee @lailakys @jxisnwaol @treeguzzler @yatiimariiee @zayuriluvs @kr1nqu @cloudxox @azinniyaa @laaalaaaloooppppsiiieeeee @rottingvxmpire @gradmacoco @spkyssn

[jejewonster]

Tag, You're It.

he chased me and he wouldn't stop. tag, you're it 𖥔. ˖ ࣪𓂃 

⊹ ִ۪ ֗ ּ ۫ ִ  pairing: l.sm x f!reader ⊹ ִ۪ ֗ ּ ۫ ִ  genre: smut, dubcon (MDNI 18+ only)

⊹ ִ۪ ֗ ּ ۫ ִ  wc: 3,090

— seokmin abhors your clear distaste for him. and he’ll do just about anything to change that. ⊹ ִ۪ ֗ ּ ۫ ִ  smut tags & warnings: DUBCON, somnophilia, deflowering, corruption kink, oral (reader), creampie, multiple positions, mating press. slightly yandere!seokmin, reader is a lightweight and gets drunk easily. narcisstic!seokmin, reader is 'drugged’ by seokmin, if i have missed any warnings please let me know. ⊹ ִ۪ ֗ ּ ۫ ִ  a/n: read my guidelines. please do not take these warnings lightly. don't like, don't read, and feel free to block me if this isn't your cup of tea. thank u to @sunniques for beta-reading ♡.

seokmin has spent his life playing the good boy role, hiding behind the facade of someone well-liked, kind, and attentive. everyone knows him for his charming persona, everyone is in love with him. 

except you. 

he didn’t understand your clear disdain for him. you had always done everything in your power to avoid him. the more you ran away, the more it intrigued him. 

the first time he laid his eyes on you, he wasn’t sure what to think. you were obviously attractive and a little shy, but your beauty was not something that could be described so simply. 

the more he tried to interact with you, to get to know you the more you pushed him away. leaving group conversations mid-sentence, sitting on the opposite side of the lecture hall… you were too obvious. 

seokmin hates when he cannot control how people perceive him. he needs to fulfill the expectations he had set: the perfect man. and if you didn’t fall for it, then he would just have to take matters into his own hands. 

…

his plan is simple— or at least simple enough for him to execute without getting caught. 

it’s the end of midterms, and your classmate somehow was able to convince you to join in on the group hangout. sat in the very corner of the booth, you looked around with eyes reminiscent of a newborn fawn. wide-eyed and just so lost. 

seokmin can help with that. 

“hey, anyone down to do a round of shots?” he asks the group, looking around to find everyone humming in agreement. 

boring holes into your figure, he sees that you’re the only one who seems reluctant to take a drink. well, seokmin can’t have that. 

you were quite the people pleaser, something he found out through his observations. it can’t be that hard to get you to at least take one shot. 

“are you not drinking?” your only acquaintance out of the group asks. 

turning to look at her, you shrug your shoulders. 

you didn’t have a ride home tonight, but you didn’t live too far. if you somehow find a way to stay sober, it won’t be too hard to slip out without anyone noticing. 

“i think i’ll pass, gotta walk home later,” your voice is meek, but your friend can’t help but frown. 

she shakes your shoulder as if attempting to pull you out of a trance. 

“c’mon! just one? we’re all here to celebrate!” she continues to push. 

filled with uncertainty, you reluctantly agree to her demands. it might be the only way she shuts up. 

sighing, you give in. “fine. just one. i’m too much of a lightweight though, so after that, i’m done.” 

a cheer erupts from her mouth, satisfied in being able to convince you to “let loose” for once. 

you don’t even know how you even got here in the first place. and you definitely didn’t think seokmin would be joining either. but now that you’re sitting there, in the corner of the booth, you know there’s no way to escape him now. 

it’s not that you hated him. god, no. you just had a bad feeling about his persona. it was almost like he was too nice. you weren’t sure what had your intuition swaying the moment you laid your eyes on him, but you simply can’t shake the eerie feeling that he gives off. 

“shots are here!” seokmin announces, handing everyone a glass. his charming smile practically blinds you, but anyone who isn’t entranced by him can see the dark energy behind his gaze. 

the way his smile never reaches his eyes, no matter how hard he tries. it had shivers running down your spine. who is the real lee seokmin? 

by the time there’s one shot remaining, your eyes meet. heartbeat drumming incessantly in your chest, you watch as his eyes piece through your very being. 

“you gonna take it?” he asks you. 

the breath in your throat is caught. this is probably the first time he’s ever spoken directly to you, and it has you shifting uncomfortably in your seat. 

“u-uh sure? why not?” you chuckle nervously before grabbing the glass out of his hand. 

placing the rim of the shot glass to your lips, you swallow the alcohol without a second thought. seokmin’s eyes burn into your soul as you swallow every last drop. you weren’t sure why he was observing you so intensely, but you tried your best not to think too much about it. 

… 

an hour passes and seokmin continues to keep his undivided attention on you. the shot glass he gave you was stronger than the rest, and he could only hope that’s all he needed to do to get you pliant for him. 

your eyes are glossed over, staring into the distance. even in a drunken state you’re still so quiet. he can only wonder how loud you might get once he gets the chance to fuck you. 

“you doing okay?” seokmin asks as he slips into the empty space beside you. 

everyone else at your table is too drunk or too busy to even pay attention to either you or seokmin. he can’t help but congratulate himself inside his mind, everything always works out in his favour. 

“yeah, just feeling tired. i-i think i should go home,” you mumble. 

exiting through the other side of the booth, the side seokmin wasn’t sitting on, you tumble out of the cramped space with clumsy steps. 

you’re on the verge of falling over, so seokmin quickly steadies you, grabbing your waist with lightning speed. the blush on your cheeks is obvious, both from embarrassment and the little alcohol you had taken. 

his face inches towards yours, the same ominous smile on his lips. 

“let me give you a ride. it’s not safe to walk alone this late at night.” 

… 

seokmin snatches the keys from your bag, your body slumped against his side as he unlocks your front door. with ragged breaths against his neck,  his arm is wrapped tightly around your waist. 

the alcohol is doing wonders. 

you were practically in and out of consciousness. seokmin had no idea it would have this much of an effect on you. Even though you did seem like a lightweight, he was assuming you were able to take more than one shot. obviously, his assumptions were very wrong. 

the effects of the alcohol should be wearing off soon, but that didn’t matter to seokmin anymore. he had you in his clutches and he has no plans to let you go. 

without wasting another second, he makes his way to your bedroom. opening and closing each door until he’s found your safe space. 

the last door down the hall by the bathroom. your room is cute, typical for someone of your age. several manga line the shelves of your bookcase, but he has no interest in indulging in your hobbies. not when you look absolutely ravishing under the moonlight that peeks through your curtains. 

your eyes are closed as you snuggle into his side. he can feel you twitch every so often, breaths shallow and warm. 

laying you onto your mattress, seokmin doesn’t waste any more of his time. his cock straining against his pants at the very thought of you taking him in every possible way that he’s been imagining. 

you flip onto the bed, your brows furrowing from all the sudden movement, but your eyes stay shut despite all the commotion. seokmin is unbelievably hard now, to the point his cock pulses at the sight of you. 

the sinister smile on his face intensifies, staring down at you as you stir in your drunken state. laying there, you stir in your vulnerability like a mere fawn waiting to be hunted like prey. everything had fallen into place so easily, it’s almost like you were destined to get your cunt fucked by him. 

seokmin’s hands roam your body with deliberate fervour, squeezing your thighs till they quiver open ever so slightly. his nails imprint your skin with half-moon-shaped marks. how did he get so lucky?

the whimper you let out resonates in his eardrums, clearly the drink he gave you was just enough that you’re at least reacting to his touch. 

“bet you taste like a fucking dream,” seokmin whispers. 

whether you register his words at all doesn’t matter to him. he just wants you as his little cock sleeve. to fuck, to cum into, everything. seokmin fantasizes about a time when you’ve become so pliant to his wishes, bouncing on his cock and taking everything he gives you. 

his nose trails along your inner thigh, inhaling your scent until he’s face to face with the wet patch staining the cloth of your lacy thong. only a complete slut would be turned on over something so simple. with a deep inhale, he gets one last whiff of your sweet nectar before he dives in. 

tearing your panties with calculated movements, seokmin mouths at your pussy, making out with the folds of your delicious cunt till your slick drips from his chin. the juices that flow from your hole show just how much you truly are enjoying this. how could you not? seokmin is the perfect guy for you. 

a little shove and you’ve fallen right into his trap. 

there’s one hand gripping at your thigh, while the other starts to ascend to the peak between your legs. his fingers prod at your entrance, sticking two digits in before curling them inside you. seokmin groans against your skin, the squelches that emit from you cause his cock to twitch even more than before.

a few seconds pass until seokmin is satisfied with the defilement of your virgin hole. agile fingers crawl towards the notches in his belt, unbuckling the leather from his waist until his pants plop towards the hardwood. 

as if on cue, your eyes snap open, although that's the least of seokmin’s worries. if anything, your sudden consciousness has turned his night into a great one. 

“oh. you’re awake,” he grins down at your half-naked body, tongue shooting out to lick his lips. 

“w-what are you doing here?” your voice wavers, eyes wide and filled with fear. your thighs clamp shut as you feel the cool breeze gust against your bare pussy.  

seokmin chuckles, his figure brooding over your defenceless body, cock exposed, long and standing proud; ready for you to take without a complaint. one of his large palms grazes against your knees until they force your legs open again. 

“you invited me here.” 

“no? i would never…” you trail off, but the past few hours were all a blur. 

as you try to recall this past night, your memory falls short. the last thing that arises from your mind is the cold rim of a shot glass brushing against your lips. 

your worst nightmare doesn’t dare speak, waiting for you to finally realize that situation you’ve been put in. parallel to a debilitated sheep in the hands of a ravenous wolf, you’re left to die in his hands. 

fuck everyone. fuck your classmate for peer pressuring you to drink that damn shot, and especially fuck seokmin for taking advantage of you. 

“fuck you,” you spit out, but your mind is still swimming. the alcohol had affected you more than you’d like. 

the thought of even trying to defend yourself only leaves you feeling sick. dazed and confused, you lie beneath him in utter despair. 

“you will, and just know i’ll make it worth your while,” seokmin leans down, lips sweeping over yours. “you’re quite the lightweight. couldn’t even take a second shot before you’re begging me to take you home.” 

the pulse in your veins intensifies, the heartbeat drumming within your chest could probably pierce your flesh till blood splatters against your torso. 

“be a good girl, yeah? your pussy is already soaking,” seokmin whispers in your ear, licking right underneath it sensually. 

your breath hitches and he smiles against your neck. his hands grip your thighs once more, his tip prodding against your folds. your body is on fire, it shouldn’t feel this good. 

“w-wait,” you whimper. 

“i think i’ve waited long enough, you’re already prepped, i made sure.” seokmin grumbles before leaning back to sheath his hard cock inside you. 

it all happens without a second to spare; you’re completely filled. the hilt of his dick presses against your pelvis, and seokmin groans into your ear. his eyes roll back as he becomes suffocated in your heat. rutting against you, he relishes in the way your walls squeeze him. nothing beats an untouched pussy waiting to be stuffed to the brim. 

“you’re gonna cut my dick off, that’s how tight you are,” seokmin grunts. 

the palms of his hands slide to the underside of your thighs, forcing your legs flush against your chest. 

“p-please. i don’t want this,” you beg, tears threatening to spill from your eyes. 

seokmin doesn’t even acknowledge your useless pleas. instead, he continues to ram his length into you, and you can’t ignore the pleasure that comes along with his malicious undoing. 

your stomach caves in as he trails kisses along your neck. this shouldn’t be happening, especially to you, but as he continues to fuck you, your mind begins to reel. this shouldn’t feel good, but there’s something about the way his balls smack against your ass that leaves you panting. 

“s-seokmin, fuck, i can’t,” you purse your lips, but your attempts to stay silent fail. 

“keep talking, baby, wanna hear you beg for it,” seokmin shudders. every time he speaks, your pussy clenches even harder. the juices that coat his dick and the snap of his hips fill his ears like a symphony. 

“i don't want this, please,” but your moans say otherwise. 

“pretending you don’t want me to fuck you just makes my cock harder,” he chuckles while releasing you from his hold. 

he sits down on your bed before forcing you onto his lap. lining himself up with your entrance, he tightens his hold on your hips before bouncing you on his cock. you squeak at the new position, not prepared to have him force you into even more pleasure. 

“i-i can’t,” you cry out, hiding your head in the dip of his shoulder. 

“you talk a lot for someone who’s absolutely soaking,” he jeers, slapping your ass till your hole sucks him in entirely, “you’re dripping on me, too. tell me, are you secretly enjoying this?” 

you choke out a pathetic ‘no’ but seokmin doesn’t believe it. instead, he lifts the sweater covering your chest until you’re completely naked. the sudden temperature change has your nipples pebbling over in seconds. letting go of your hips, he swallows your left tit, tongue swirling against the erect bud. 

as he sucks on your left boob, he keeps his other hand in place, groping the meat of your ass till hand marks litter your skin. 

your mind is still glazed over— from the alcohol or the sheer pleasure you’re receiving, you’re unsure at this point. but something deep within you forces you to continue bouncing on his lap. the tip of his cock poking at your cervix and the pain of his girth bruises your pussy, but the knot in your stomach is starting to unravel. 

“seokmin, please, it’s too much,” you whimper once again, breath hot against his neck. 

“you feeling tired, princess?” his tone is filled with faux concern. 

seokmin is brimming with satisfaction. not only does he have you in his clutches, but you’re clearly succumbing to the undeniable spark of lust between you. 

“just make the feeling go away, feels like ‘m gonna pee,” you cry, unsure of whether you should be embarrassed by how much you’re secretly enjoying the way his dick is piercing you or the fact that you can’t stop the unusual build-up in your stomach. 

“you wanna cum for me, baby? it’s okay, just let it go,” unlatching from your tits, he smirks before capturing your lips into a zealous lip lock. 

the bed creaks beneath the two of you, the mattress moving up and down as your hips continue to hump against his member. 

“it feels good,” you sigh as you pull away from his plush lips. 

there’s regret in your decision to unveil your true feelings, but it has become so hard to ignore. 

seokmin is glowing with triumph, observing the way your lidded eyes exude with desire. pants leave your mouth, the redness from your cheeks trickling down to your neck. he can’t let go of you after this. he won't. 

“the faster you go, the faster this is over,” he informs you, hoping it will coerce you into riding him like a bitch in heat. 

“o-okay, i’ll try,” your voice wobbles, your hands moving to his shoulders to ground yourself. 

lifting yourself up, you slam back down onto his cock. seokmin’s brows are strewn as he attempts to savour the feeling of your pussy rubbing against his length. then you speed up, speeding up your movements until the sounds of skin and skin echo within your bedroom. 

“f-fuck, i’m gonna cum,” seokmin’s voice strains, his dick starts to twitch within your velvety cunt. 

you moan out, your eyes screwed shut. the funny feeling in your stomach snaps like a strained rubber band. the abnormal sensation flows throughout your limbs, but it’s so satisfying at the same time. 

then it comes, the spurt of semen filling your hole. he holds you tight against him as his hips stutter, the warm liquid hitting your walls until you're completely stuffed. 

you’re panting against his muscular chest, breath ragged while sweat drips from your forehead. realization hits you seconds later and you’re jumping off seokmin’s lap. 

“you need to go,” you mutter, not able to meet his eyes. 

the clothes are scattered on the floor and you make haste as you pluck your sweater near the foot of your bed. it shouldn’t matter that it felt good to have him inside you, but the thought of him fucking you against can’t help cross your mind. 

“i could go. but why should i? that pussy of yours is mine now,” seokmin shrugs nonchalantly before standing from the bed to dress himself. 

a sense of dread wreaks havoc inside you, your heart plummeting to the floor. this whole situation has you feeling powerless, but you can’t deny the spark that seokmin had lit inside you. 

“expect me to come over when i need my dick sucked, okay?” 

[maybe-boys-do-love]

Thanks @waitmyturtles for messaging me to let me know you prefer to be tagged in posts. I don’t mind tagging, but I also want to respect that not everyone wants to get involved in a back-and-forth on here. I’m looking forward to your additional thoughts and generally appreciate the respectfulness with which you engage with others and with which we’ve engaged with each other in the past, even where we diverge.

I can’t say the same for my attempts at discussions with lurkingshan, who blocked me near as I can tell after I was pulled into a debate with them and bengiyo around Peaceful Property and class disparity (the day of the US election results, so none of us was likely in the best headspace). Friends of mine shared the post with me knowing the love I, as a flaming gay guy, had for Spare Me Your Mercy. I felt the need to respond, not just to it (although it was the impetus and the foundational reference point) but to trends I see across different platforms and even in different media around queer art in relationship to genres, messaging approaches, and capital endeavors. I just wanted to create a post that made people whose queer tastes diverge from others feel welcome to their own preferences and appreciate that there’s not a single stance in the queer BL fandom about what qualifies as good and/or queer work.

just a friendly note to the BL fandom on here that plenty of people enjoy queer-oriented shows like love in the big city and mainstream shows like spare me your mercy and classic BL approaches like Cooking Crush. Plenty of people see the queerness, the strengths, the value for viewers in all these shows.

just a friendly reminder that a work is not less queer because no one is protesting it. That’s not a legitimate metric across vastly different cultures. The differences between politics, religious majorities, and manners across QL producing countries is absolutely massive.

just a reminder, if we wanna talk about capitalism, that the whole idea of a work being better or worse, queerer or less queer, more valuable or less valuable based on it’s reception in numbers (either higher or lower) is not something Marx and Engels would be into, since they ascribed to exchange value over use value. The labor put into the work is where it’s at—and all of these shows had plentiful hours of (queer) labor put into them! But not everyone who talks about the wrongs of capitalism on here is actually interested in the finer details of how capitalism operates, the full political and economic realities of the companies making these shows, nor the individuals who are forced to fight for change within capitalism’s global structure.

just a friendly reminder that queer sex, queer kissing, queer love, and queer marriage are part of and entwined with a larger humanist struggle for agency and cooperation, and queer creators are allowed to adapt their works and connect queerness to those broader political questions, and the work does not become any less queer because it lacks nc scenes or marriage plots.

and just a friendly reminder that a simple BL romcom is equally as queer of a story as a story about HIV. They’ll have vastly different narrative structures serving different emotional goals, and they’ll likely have different audiences. Yet, somehow, like me when I wake up in a different mood every morning, they’ll still be gay.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Not a Word 1

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You live a life in hiding, away from your father and the world, until a man decides to drag you into the light. (non-verbal reader)

Characters: Captain Syverson

Note: Happy Monday.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You can’t hear your father’s voice anymore. You stand at your door, listening for any sign of life. It’s not him you want to avoid, though he’s rarely happy to see you, but his company. You’re pretty sure they left but not entirely. You feel asleep working on your diamond art. 

You can’t wait much longer. You have to pee so bad that you can feel it in your throat. It’s late. You’re sure you’re alone. 

The door hinges scrape like they always do. You hate that noise. You tiptoe down the hall, towards the yellow blare of the kitchen light. You turn into the bathroom and shut the door. You sigh as finally you get your release. 

You flinch as you stand up and pull your elastic waistband over your hips. The hollow metal tink of a metal can sounds from outside. It could be your dad. That would make sense. He probably got up to get water or another can of beer. 

You wash your hands and go back out. You head towards your bedroom without a look in the other direction. The grizzly pronunciation of your name draws you back. Your eyes round as you scuff to a halt. 

You turn to face the burly man at the end of the hall. “Did I wake you?” Sy asks. 

You gulp and shake your head. He’s one of your dad’s coworkers from the shop. He comes over with a six-pack and they sit on the porch to enjoy it. Or they linger in the kitchen and play cards. 

As the shadows shroud him, he looks even bigger than usual. You’ve only ever seen him from a distance. Usually he’s sitting down. Maybe you just never noticed how gigantic he truly is. 

He flips on the hallway light and you blink. His dark beard adds to the squareness of his jaw and his shaved head has dark stubble in a deep peak on his forehead. His blue eyes sparkle despite his naturally fearsome posture. 

“I just got your daddy to bed,” he says. “He should be just fine. You check that he’s on his belly tomorrow morning.” 

You nod again. He does the same. He doesn’t appear frustrated as your father. He seems almost intrigued as he stays there, scratching above the collar of his tee. 

“You okay?” 

You nod. 

“Checkin’, ya know? It’s late. Dark can be scary, huh?” 

Yes, your head bobs in agreement. 

“Right, well, you have a good night. Let me know if ya need anything in the morning. I put my number on the fridge.” He taps on the door frame and turns away. 

Most of your dad’s friends or the same. They don’t pay you much mind. You prefer that. You’re not one for chatting. That fact irks your father to no end. You just stay out of his way, and his friends’, and hide in your room. 

You wait until you hear the front door. Then you go to lock it as Sy’s footsteps clamour on the porch. You stay there, his headlights shining through the window as his engine rumbles to life. The gravel crunches as he reverses out and steers off into the night. 

You go around and shut off the lights. You take your time in the kitchen tidying up the beer cans. You wipe the counters quickly and rinses the dregs off your fingers. You leave the light on so you can find your door. 

You shut yourself in and go back to bed. You leave the small lamp on next to it and turn your back to the glow. You yawn and close your eyes. 

Another night. It’s a bit sad that the best part of your day is going to sleep. Your waking hours aren’t very interesting. When you’re not doing the chores or the cooking, you’re in there, busying yourself with something meaningless. Nothing you do will ever make a difference; not for you or anyone else. 

That’s why your dad hates you so much. You can’t blame him. There’s no jobs out there for someone like you. You tried and all you got for it was embarrassment and a new slew of insults. 

You cross your arms over the top of the blankets and sigh. When you lay in your bed, you can be anything. Behind your eyelids, you can’t paint pictures more gleaming than those etched in the small plastic diamonds. You could be a princess or an actress or even just someone normal. 

What keeps you awake, isn’t your dreams. It’s the dread of the inevitable. Once you fall asleep, you’ll have to wake up again and face bitter reality. 

🩶

Your dad’s snoring rocks you through the walls. The house is small. You hear a lot more than you like. Often, you leave the old Casio radio playing on low to gloss over the cricks and cracks and groans. 

You get up, knowing better than to wait until he does first. If you have the coffee waiting, it will appease a fraction of his temper. With a hangover racking his skull, he won’t be in the best of moods. 

The dead heat of summer roils through the house. Your dad has an AC unit in his bedroom window but it’s not big enough to do much beyond his door. He keeps that closed most days anyways. On the cold days, he also keeps the small electric heater locked away with him. 

You change into a pair of loose linen capris and a plain tank top. You don’t go anywhere so you don’t dress for any occasion. Most of your clothes are akin to pajamas, or nothing more than. 

The machine is old and dingy. No matter how many times you descale it, it keeps that yellow stain in the plastic. You snap the lid shut and flip the red button so it lights up. Dad says once it stops turning on, he’ll waste money on a new one. 

You get yourself a glass of water and wait. It’s early still but his alarm won’t let him sleep in. As it goes off, you keep busy.  

There’s a slam and a grumble. Your dad stirs violently and his door hits the frame as he swings it open. He lumbers out as you pour him a mug. He belches and ignores you. You put it on the table as he turns down the hall and goes into the bathroom. He leaves the door open and you hear his stream piddle into the toilet. 

You ignore it and turn back to your task. Breakfast. It’s the same thing every day. You do his eggs, sunny side up, toasted Wonder bread, and six strips of bacon. The smell soon has your mouth watering. The chair scrapes the floor loudly as he drops into it heavily. 

He slurps loudly behind you as you put together his plate. You set it before him and he wiggles the empty mug at you. You take it and pour him another from the carafe. 

A car door snaps shut. You wince. You didn’t hear an engine, but you’d been too swept up in cooking. You give your dad his refill and go to check the front window. 

“Is it that mailman already?” He hollers. 

You shake your head, even knowing that he won’t see.  

“Don’t know why I fucking ask,” he snarls. 

You watch Sy jump out of his truck. While the axle is high, it isn’t very treacherous for a man his size. He kicks up gravel as he steps around the door and shuts it. You back away as he heads towards the house. 

He clomps up the steps, thump, thump, thump, and you jitter as he approaches the other side of the door. You wait until he knocks before you answer it. You peek out through a single inch of space. He grins. You don’t think he’s ever smiled at you. You assumed he never did at all. 

“How’s the old man?” He asks. 

You blink and let the door open a bit more and give thumbs up. As good as he’ll ever be.  

“That’s good,” he drawls. “So...” 

His eyes drift down, just a little. You squirm. Your shirt feels thinner as you stand there. Your nipple poke into the fabric and you hug yourself awkwardly. You remember you asked your father for a bra once. He laughed and you never brought it up again. You try to stick to loose clothing. 

You point over your shoulder then make a gesture as if you’re holding a fork and scooping. 

“Having breakfast, that’s nice.” 

You don’t have enough for him. You’ll wait until your dad’s at work before you sit and have your single slice of toast and peanut butter. 

“I already ate, in case ya worried,” he assures. “Was just comin’ to make sure I didn’t give him too much sauce.” 

He laughs. His booming humour makes your flinch. Your brows pop up and he quiets. 

“Sorry, I know, I’m a loud one, huh?” He snorts, “I don’t mean ta scare ya.” 

“I told ya, she don’t say shit,” your father growls into a yawn. You step back and the door opens all the way as you press yourself to the wall. He saunters forward in his boxers and tank top. “No point goin’ on like that when she probably don’t even understand.” 

“She understands me,” Sy avows confidently. “After a night with your drunk ass, it’s a breath of fresh air to have someone not yammer on.” 

“You’re the one brought me the piss,” your father retorts. 

“And you didn’t complain when I did,” he counters. “Wanted to see if ya were going to make it in today. Just in case I gotta finish up Dubeau’s clunker.” 

“I’ll be there,” your father sneers. “Why don’t you go and get it all warmed up for me?” 

“You’re a prick, Don,” Sy huffs. 

“What? No, you can’t see it,” your father covers his crotch and you blanch, looking away embarrassed. 

“Don,” Sy rebukes, “there’s a lady.” 

“It’s my daughter, dammit. She’s too stupid to get it,” he spits. “Hey, you, go on, kitchen’s a mess.” 

You nod and avoid looking at the other man out of embarrassment. Your father is crass, sometimes even at your expense. And he knows you can understand him. He must. You do everything he tells you too. 

“Well, then, I’ll see ya round,” Sy calls, though you only realise he’s talking to you as your dad changes the subject to some tail pipe. 

You stop and peek back. Sy watches you over your dad’s head. You give a wave, just a tilt of your hand, then continue into the kitchen. 

You can’t help but be thankful for the interruption. Sy’s boisterous intrusion offered a buffer between you and your dad’s hangover. You wash his plate, cutlery, and mug, before you move onto the pots and pans you used to cook. 

You can hear your dad barking outside at Sy. The other man responds with a deep rumble. Are they arguing? 

The front door swings open, “hey, girl,” you dad whistles, “more coffee. Bring some for this lump.” 

You take the order in stride. You don’t have enough for two cups, maybe half of one. You start a new pot and wait. When it’s finished, you dry your dad’s mug and pull out another. You carry both to the front door and elbow through. 

You hand one to each man as they stand by the porch railing. Your dad takes his gruffly, spilling some on your fingers, but Sy thanks you. 

“You didn’t even ask if he wanted sugar or cream,” your dad chides. You give him a startled look. He snorts. “How’d ya do that, huh? Maybe blink your eyes real big.” 

You frown at his mocking. Sy exhales and you back away. Now you have two men annoyed with you. You glance over at the bigger of the pair as he stares at you. You should’ve thought of you. Coffee is bitter, it’s why you don’t drink it. 

You point to his cup and he shakes his head, “coffee’s fine,” he insists, “I’ll have something sweet later.” You nod and retreat. You turn your back to them and step inside. Before you close the door, you hear Sy, “you know I take my coffee black, Don. No needa to give the girl a hard time.” 

You shut it before you can catch whatever snide remark your father tosses back. You know he won’t take kindly to being told what to do, especially if it’s to do with you. Or because of you. You’ll hear it all later, you’re sure. 

[andcars]

ㅤ [ 𝗪𝗛𝗔𝗧 𝗪𝗘 𝗗𝗢 ]

premise. the media makes twists and turns of everything they see. to be fair, it's not like it's easy to explain your story to them. you just know you're quite satisfied to where you end up at the present

prompt # ㅤdominant carlos sainz, submissive oscar piastri, lLeaked sex tape, body worship, reader is a celebrity, pregnancy, power imbalance, baby fever [ "Wait, you’re famous?" + "Remember your safe word, I’m not fucking stopping" + “You wanted to be seen? You wanted to be caught? You’re so fucking turned on right now” ] tags #ㅤanonymous/masked sex, non-linear story wc #ㅤ 1.6k

ㅤㅤFEEL FREE TO INBOX ME FOR THOUGHTS OR REQUESTS !

| MASTERLIST⠀REQUEST ME⠀TAGLIST⠀PATREON GUIDE⠀AO3

Over a year ago, there were cheating scandals everywhere including the three of you. You cheated on Carlos. Carlos cheated on you—and he’s gay! Oscar is a homewrecker. Oscar is also gay. The whole thing blew up into one explosion only to set off another one. It wasn’t possible if not for Oscar’s greatly dumb ideas that you all thought was funny at the time. Too funny, even.

A YEAR AGO AND A FEW MONTHS AGO

“You’re so fucking wet—” Carlos groaned, your pussy clenching on his cock that rams ruthless inside of you. Both his hands are grasping your tits. His grip is tight and you can feel his nails digging into your skin. “So fucking good for me,  cariño. Your body is so perfect, taking me in—like—this!” 

He was not kind. It was the opposite of the soft kisses trailing on your neck, the caresses on your hips, and the little moans on your skin. Oscar is breathing heavily, acting like he’s the one fucking—or getting fucked, you know he wouldn’t mind—in the situation. He moaned loudly when you do, looking into your eyes as Carlos is going faster and reaches deep inside of you.

The contrast of the two was almost disorienting. Carlos suddenly pulled out and you then noticed you came. “Go on top of Oscar. I want you facing him as I fuck you—Oscar keep your hands to yourself, I don’t want you touching anyone without my permission.”

Oscar nodded because that’s the only thing he’s allowed to do. You’re flipped to your front and lay limp on Oscar. He’s slightly sat against the headboard, your head ending up on his stomach as Carlos pulls you down on your cock. With a too-easy glide in your oversensitive pussy, he continued fucking you. The new position lets Oscar’s cock grind against your tits. He’s moaning and writhing subtly, panting as Carlos’ thrusts were powerful enough to give him the right friction. It didn’t give him release but it give him something.

“Look at the camera, cariño,” Carlos turned your head, “I want everyone to see your face when you cum.” You whined, wanting to look away but the red blinking of the camera got you focused. You almost felt everyone watching you then. “Fuck. Do you know how turned on you are? So wet. So—... you just wanna be fucked by us in front of everyone. So perverted.” He slapped your ass and didn’t stop until he reached his goal.

By the end of the night, you’re an incoherent mess. There’s drool on Oscar’s hips, cum overflowing your pussy and painting your tits, and your head is still too stuck on pleasure to process that it’s over. You’d say it was the best fuck you guys have but that was in Mexico last year. The two of them were on a high back then.

The squelch of your pussy is obscene. Carlos groans as he pulls his cock out, probably watching it drip down until he shoves his fingers to keep it all in. “How was it?” he asked, pretending as if he didn’t know you just fucked him that good. The heavy groan that fell from your mouth was enough for him, it made him laugh. 

“Okay then. With the footage… are we still..?”

Before he could get anything, you pulled Oscar to lay beside you and finally finish him off. He didn’t need to given permission to Carlos. Oscar was caught off guard and came all over your hand—”Shit!” he says, “I’m… Would’ve liked a warning at least.”

“Mhm,” You can barely form a single thought. “Just wanted everyone to be happy.”

“Clean up first, sweetheart,” Carlos kissed your head, patting your shoulders before hoisting you up. “I’m sure it’ll take.”

TWO YEARS AGO, GIVE OR TAKE

In the club, no one actually has a face. It’s like the rule of the place. You’re drawn in to the same masks over and over again though. Every other week, you see someone wear the ghoul and the gargoyle looking masks, all on different bodies and in different companies. However, there was a duo that consists of a ghoul and a gargoyle that caught your attention multiple times before. It seems like you’ve captured theirs as well.

On Mondays, there was a chance you will see them. On Mondays, you get to be fucked by both of them. The gargoyle is more experienced, fucks you with precision, takes the room in his control. Your hare mask was often pulled up just so that he could see the way you drool all over his cock. It should be against the rules but you never found yourself saying no to him

The ghoul, however, hovers above you and waits for permission. He will whisper praises, he will moan alongside you, he will look at the gargoyle and you like that both of you are the only things that give him joy in life. You don’t know how much that’s true.

It’s the seventh time you three meet, the first time that your masks will be taken off. It comes as a whim as the gargoyle takes the ghoul’s mask off—the other was surprised. You were surprised too. He looked… young. He had soft features and doe eyes. He looked nervous when he looked at you, almost as if he was scared that you would run away after looking at his face. He no longer feared anything when you took yours off too, pulling him into a passionate kiss.

“Do you still remember your safe word?” The gargoyle asks, his hands caressing your body. When a sharp thrust fills your pussy in one go, you’re pulled away from the kiss. He looks as if he’s enjoying your face a lot. “Don’t say stop, please, wait, if you think it’s going to do something. Say red or nothing at all, because I won’t fucking stop.”

He keeps his promise. The both of you are at his control, doing anything whatever he wants you to do. It's dizzying. All the demands and the pressure coming from him is something you wanna cherish forever. You can’t imagine anyone else to be experiencing this with. Not with how heavy his hands are, how deep his voice is, how the ghoul moans with even the littlest pleasure to him, how the ghoul grinds himself on your body and fucks your mouth desperately. This was something that was irreplaceable.

The gargoyle wore his mask until the very end. But when you came, he took his off to eat you out. He’s… mesmerizing. His eyes look fiercer without the cover of the mask. His messy long hair curls over his head as you grip on it for some control. He lets you. You’re being fucked on his tongue and all you can do is admire both of their faces for the first time.

It’s funny how you didn’t know they were Formula 1 drivers until you see their faces plastered on a poster. It was not like that mattered anyways. Your face was just across theirs on a concert advertisement. You have a date with the both of them tonight, you can admire their faces up close.

PRESENT TIME

You told the both of them long ago that you make music. They’ve seen the numbers on your Spotify. You don’t know why they’re acting so surprised when they arrive to the stadium. It’s still pretty empty except for the production crew preparing the things. You’re still comfortable in your pyjamas when you arrive with the three. They’re wearing the same comfortable clothes as you but for some reason, they’re acting too shy.

“I feel like I should change,” says Oscar, running a palm over his plain shirt and shorts. “Like I thought it was gonna be like… a more open and smaller venue?”

“Just say you don’t google me and move on, Oscar,” you laugh. He tries to say something but you’re being led down to the tech room. You have to help make sure all the right tracks are going to be played at a decent volume—not too loud but enough to be heard by everyone at a decent . Oscar and Carlos doesn’t seem to be sure of their positions.

This goes on for a few hours. You are dragged away endless times and they’re left following in your heels. Only when you told them to wait in the dressing room did they actually calm a little. Of course, that's until the fans came.

“Did you see how many people are outside?” Carlos asked, just having come back from behind the stage. “It’s completely full. You can still hear them all from here.” They're singing one of your songs, it's pretty clear from here.

“I’m happy that I bought mufflers for the little guy.” Oscar smiles. You smile too. The three of them have absolutely made your year. You look at your son in Oscar's arms, all wrapped around and ears fully covered. You made sure that the volume was all set. This was a bad idea, just like leaking that stupid sex tape just to keep all the journalists off your asses. Who the fuck beings their kid to a concert?

Carlos notices your worry lines. “Don’t worry. If she cries, we'll leave. We just can’t not attend your concert, okay? We know you’ve been busy recovering, so we want you to enjoy. Understood?” He’s kind. He’s kind when he’s not fucking you in bed, at least. It's really nice. Carlos smiles at you and kisses your forehead, patting your back.

When you leave, you briefly hear Oscar asks—”Is it bad that I never actually googled her once?”

Carlos, the saint, says, “She likes that. Same thing why she doesn’t know what a DRS is.”

@Delululeclerc @hiireadstuff @bicchaan

FOOTNOTE ────── first fic of the new year baby! hope ya'll try with me cuz ur boy is actually burning out lol. but this was nice to write n so I hope ya'll still enjoy :3

[becausebuckley]

michelle's buddie fic recs: week 1!

happy new year, everyone!! we're kicking the year off with a slightly shorter rec list than usual - i've been spending a lot more time with family, and a lot less time reading - of lovely, lovely fics. enjoy!!

this is a mix of fics with all ratings, so some include NSFW content. please take a look at both the ratings and the fic tags before reading! some might also contain spoilers for season 8.

if you come across something you like in this list, remember to show some love to the author by leaving kudos and a comment!

all i want for christmas... | Tizniz/@tizniz | 3.4k | GA

“So…I don’t think we’re gonna make it back for Christmas.” Buck closes his eyes and takes a breath, letting the full impact of Eddie’s words hit him for a second. “Y-yeah, man. Of course. I totally get it.” He swallows, “Your family is there, anyways.” i am still thoroughly enjoying a few more holiday fics and this one was an absolute highlight this week!! so soft and lovely <3

'cause i took the long road to find you wanting me | BekkaChaos/@bekkachaos | 6k | T

Buck can't bring himself to act normal around Eddie in the days after he reveals he's looking for houses in El Paso, he knows that Eddie leaving will be one of the most painful things he'll have to endure, but he refuses to tell him that he shouldn't go. After a few days, Eddie comes to Buck's loft unannounced to confront him about it, and everything becomes even more complicated. i LOVE this fic's characterisation of buck so very much <3 so good!!

every corner of this house is haunted | justhockey | 2.5k | GA

And now that love is everywhere, is in everything. It’s worn so deeply into the grooves of his skin that it’s changed the very structure of his fingerprint - is burrowed so deep inside of him that it has rewritten his DNA. His love for Eddie and for Christopher is carved into his bones - etched onto his heart like an epitaph: love lived here. Love left here. the excitment i feel whenever i see a new justhockey fic <3 i mean seriously, do you need to read more than those two little summary paragraphs to be convinced to read this gem of a fic? i don't think you do. click the link, you know you want to <3

honey came in and she caught me red-handed | lizzybizzyzzz/@lizzybizzyzzz | 9.3k | E

buck accidentally sends eddie nudes; they fuck it out. so hot so good so them <3 oh how i love buddie accidentally sending each other nudes, and this fic is right there among the very best of them!!

if only in my dreams | songbvrd/@songbvrd | 9.2k | GA

Eddie moves to El Paso a month before Christmas. Buck goes a little bit insane about it. at this point a michelle rec list isn't a michelle rec list without a fic by songbvrd on it lol. what can i say, i know what i like, and this author happens to write a lot of it! i love buck going a little bit insane over eddie moving and his decorating and the buddie and just everything <3

pluto is not a planet. | gooondocks (happyhauntt)/@happyhauntt | 3.2k | GA

buck finds out that pluto isn't a planet anymore and takes it very personally. this fic is so so gorgeously written. the most beautiful character study introspection buck fic. genuinely just that good <3

with all the clouds around (it's never been clearer than now) | seachanged | 2.4k | T

It happens on a Saturday. Or, it starts on a Friday that turns into Saturday, the easy joy of the night tipping over into the pale, vulnerable light of the morning; dazzling in its inevitability.  the buddie dynamic here is so so good, a little teasing and a little flirty but mostly so very soft <3 lovely fic!!

[mikeyisbrooklyn]

My god, so much of modern fandom discourse could be boiled down to: “Did this user forget filters and tags exist and they, in fact, do not have to engage with things they don’t like?”

I’m gonna sound like an old man yelling at clouds rn but back when I was a preteen entering these spaces, discourse never felt this overbearing. There’s always been haughty and stuffy purists and there’s always been people who take fandom so seriously they became fan-cops or whatnot; though those people were a vocal minority. These days it feels like everyone’s got that chip on their shoulder. So much so that the only micro fandom spaces I feel sane being in are with people my age (mid20s) and older.

Is it the kids that are the problem? I don’t want to think so, cause that feels like steering directly into the ignorant (and arrogant) position of “my generation is perfectly fine and it’s these dumb kids mucking everything up”. Which especially doesn’t meet any logical reasoning because how did today’s teens learn fandom etiquette? From watching my teens…so maybe I’m the problem…? Maybe it’s more complicated than either of those. Idk but this post is just a stream of consciousness.

Hi. I'm not a canon purist and enjoy some fanon content very much, but I do think people in the fandom should at least familiarize themselves with the canon content and source material. It's easier to break the "rules" so to speak and experiment with canon when you know what that actually is. I've noticed a lot of fans that are only familiar with fanon criticise content that doesn't line up with what they believe to be canon but isn't. The Red Hood for example. I've seen writers who portray him as the violent criminal he is in much of the canon be completely decimated by Jason fans who only know fanon and the retconned version of Red Hood and completely deny canon even exists and refuse to even glance at the comics. Transformative works are important and playing in the sandbox is for everyone but fandom literally cannot exist without canon. Canon is important and people can do whatever they want with it but they should respect it enough to at least look at it.

Hi anon, I'm going to hold your hand as I say this, and I will say it as gently as I can: This is still a form of canon purism.

We can absolutely agree that readers shouldn't berate or abuse writers for how they choose to portray characters in fic, whether that's a more canon-faithful characterization or a popular fanon version. If readers don't like how a character is portrayed, we should encourage them to hit the back button instead.

I want to draw your attention to some of the words you used in your ask above: "should" "respect" "decimated" etc. Those are some strong words to describe how you think people need to behave, in order to exist in fandom. Of course, there is no fandom without canon source material -- I'm not denying that. But with such a wide and varied canon, the DC fandom has examples of the Red Hood you mention above, AND the "retconned" version you also reference. Both are canon, as in actually, officially, canon. WFA is canon, and that Red Hood looks very different from the Red Hood you describe.

Now, I think your issue is that you enjoy a certain version of canon, and you're frustrated that the fandom doesn't also, as trends ebb and flow, enjoy that canon as much as you do. Again, I want to acknowledge that just because a certain version is popular, it doesn't give folks the right to berate authors for writing a different version. But again, I don't think that's what we're really talking about here. From your ask's tone, I think you're suggesting that people should, in order to participate in fandom, read that older canon, that different version, or as you say, "glance at it" before enjoying or writing the fanon version.

Guess what? They actually, really, really, don't have to. It sounds like you have some issues with judging your fellow fandom members who don't read what you do or reference certain canon. But the magic of this fandom is, you can enter it at any point. We're a big pool, and if someone's entry point is the Lego Batman movie and that's it, that's still valid.

Fandom stems from canon, yes, but I almost never hear people talk about movies, or web comics, or other media when they talk about "required reading." It's always a comic. I really wish people would reflect on that before suggesting it as the one true path to being a fan.

The other thing I don't see asks like these reference ever is the reality that sometimes a fandom outstrips its canon material, and that that's an eventuality in some spaces. Fanon interpretations become popular, and people write about those specific characterizations or scenarios. They ebb and flow, like I mentioned, and some are more canon-faithful than others. Some completely reject canon, and again -- it's still fandom. It doesn't make it better or worse than a more canon-faithful fic. It's just different.

I had a couple asks about this topic a few weeks ago, and I'm assuming you haven't read those or you likely wouldn't have sent me this ask. But in them, I discuss how sometimes we need to suck it up and be unhappy that canon-faithful fics aren't as popular in a fandom at a specific time, and stop punishing fellow fans for writing and enjoying those fics. And we really need to stop shitting on them publicly on Tumblr.

Because often, what you're really saying is that you wish more people would write more canon-faithful fics, and stop writing ones about fanon topics you don't enjoy or think are accurate. And to that, I again say, there is nothing you can or should do to change that behavior from others. If you want to read it, write it, enjoy it, etc, do it yourself. Build the comic-faithful community here, write fics and promote challenges, create a discord channel and discuss your "required reading" there.

We are all writing and reading fanfiction at the end of the day. It is a great equalizer in many ways. My silly Lego Batman fic is just as valid as a canon-faithful rewrite of a certain Batman issue. One is not better than the other, or more deserving of respect. You will never get me to admit otherwise on this blog.

tl;dr: people should absolutely not berate authors who choose to write canon-faithful characterizations. however, there are layers of judgement and disdain many DC comics canon-faithful authors/readers have for their fellow fans that I think we need to examine critically in order to coexist respectfully.

[aventurineswife]

Aventurine, Sunday and Ratio w/ a Memokeeper...? 👀

“Memory is the diary that we all carry about with us”

Tags: Ratio x Reader, Sunday x Reader, Aventurine x Reader, Memokeeper!Reader, Character Study, Existential Themes, Introspection, Emotional Growth, Intellectual Tension, Mysticism, Loss, Haunted Past, Unresolved Regret, Journey of Self-Discovery, Temporal Manipulation

Warnings: Existential Crisis, Trauma, Philosophical Discomfort, Emotional Weight Vulnerability in Characters, Mature Themes (regret, guilt, and self-worth).

Ratio, with his signature plaster sculpture concealing his face and his wavy hair cascading just past his shoulders, was a figure both revered and feared within the Intelligentsia Guild. His sharp eyes, the color of fading twilight with a ring of yellow at their core, saw everything and everyone, evaluating, analyzing, dissecting.

It was here that you, a Memokeeper from the Garden of Recollection, first encountered him.

You had come to this world, as you did with every other, to preserve memories, to seek out moments that spoke of the lives lived, the forgotten faces, and the stars that fell into oblivion. In the endless cycle of existence, you had learned that the only thing that truly mattered was memory. To think, to feel, to exist—those were not just ephemeral things, but imprints on the fabric of reality itself.

But when you met Ratio, it was as if all the weight of time had been condensed into a single moment. He, too, had an unyielding belief in the importance of knowledge, in the idea that ideas, too, were immortal. He understood the power of remembrance, but to him, it was intellect, not memory, that was the truest form of immortality. A fascinating paradox.

"You're a Memokeeper, aren't you?" His voice was smooth, like velvet over steel, his eyes locking onto yours, seeing straight through to your very essence.

You nodded, concealing your true form beneath your disguise, as was customary for those like you. In this world, you were just another scholar, another wanderer with a collection of knowledge to trade. But unlike the others, your knowledge wasn’t of facts or figures. It was of memories, of moments suspended in time, of people long gone and forgotten.

"You believe that memory is everything, don’t you?" Ratio's gaze never wavered, as if he was testing you. "You think that by preserving memory, you preserve the soul of a person. But memories are subjective, fleeting. They are not absolute. Ideas, facts, theories—these are what endure. These are what define existence."

His words were confident, dismissive even. But you knew there was more behind them, a deeper yearning to understand what lay beyond the limits of mortal comprehension. You could see it in the way his hands gestured as he spoke, the sharpness of his thoughts revealing a man who, despite all his brilliance, was searching for something more.

"You misunderstand," you said, your voice calm but full of a quiet intensity. "Memories are the only things that cannot be erased, not by time, not by entropy. They are the proof of existence. Without them, what are we but ghosts, vanishing without a trace?"

Ratio's eyes glinted with something unreadable—was it interest? Curiosity? You couldn’t tell, but it was enough to pique his attention. "And how do you preserve them? What makes your memories so… important?"

You smiled faintly, an ethereal expression. "I don’t just remember, Dr. Ratio. I preserve. Through the Garden of Recollection, I collect and store memories, not just from the world I come from, but from all worlds. I can live through them, feel what they felt, see what they saw. I can carry the memories of thousands, and in doing so, they live on."

For a moment, there was silence. Ratio’s gaze remained fixed on you, his expression unreadable. "And what of your own memories?" he asked, his voice softer now, though still brimming with intensity. "Do you ever remember yourself? Or are you too lost in the memories of others to even recall your own?"

It was a question that struck deeper than you had anticipated. You, who had shed your mortal form long ago to live as a memetic entity, could not remember the life you once lived. The body you had was but a vessel, an illusion of the past. Yet you held the memories of countless lives, each one a thread in the grand tapestry of existence.

"I remember," you said quietly, your voice distant, as if recalling a long-forgotten dream. "But only fragments. I carry the memories of all those I've encountered, of all the lives I've touched. And in that, I live."

Ratio stared at you, his expression unreadable, but there was a flicker in his eyes—a momentary crack in his armor. "Fascinating," he murmured, as if the concept of your existence challenged everything he had ever known. "You are a paradox, then. A being of memory, yet unable to fully grasp your own existence. How… tragic."

You tilted your head slightly. "Perhaps. But in some ways, it’s beautiful. Every life I encounter becomes a part of me, and in that, I become part of them. A perpetual exchange, a never-ending cycle of remembrance."

Ratio’s lips quirked upward slightly, a rare and almost imperceptible smile. "Perhaps," he echoed, his voice tinged with something akin to admiration. "You might be right, after all. Memory is the only true form of immortality. But don’t forget, my Memokeeper, that intellect and knowledge are what shape the universe. Without them, memory would be meaningless."

You met his gaze, a soft chuckle escaping your lips. "And without memory, even the greatest intellects would fade into obscurity, leaving nothing behind."

For a moment, you both stood there, two beings of immense knowledge and power, staring at one another in the midst of a universe that seemed both infinite and fleeting. In that fleeting moment, there was no need for words. You understood each other, in a way that few could.

As you turned to leave, your final words lingered in the air, like a soft melody, echoing across time itself.

"Remember me, Dr. Ratio. After all, that is the only way I can truly exist."

He watched you disappear into the endless flow of time, his mind racing with questions, with curiosity. The Memokeeper had left an impression, a memory etched into his mind. And though Ratio would continue his work, seeking to change the world through intellect and knowledge, something had shifted within him.

Perhaps, in the end, the preservation of memory and the pursuit of knowledge were not so different after all.

The Astral Express hummed with the faint rhythm of its journey through the stars, its steady pulse a stark contrast to the turbulent thoughts that swirled within Sunday’s mind. He stood by the window, watching the unending expanse of the cosmos pass by, his eyes reflecting distant stars. His thoughts were as fractured as ever—an unyielding dissonance between his ideals and the weight of his past. Yet, there was something different now, something new stirring in him, as if the winds of change were gently sweeping through his world.

You, the Memokeeper, stood just a few steps away from him, an enigmatic presence, yet somehow, your existence felt more real than anything else. Your presence was like an anchor in a sea of uncertainty, a testament to a truth he had not yet fully grasped.

To think is to exist.

He had never truly questioned his existence in this way before. For all his lofty ideals about dreams, suffering, and the balance between them, there was something about you—your quiet, eternal purpose—that made him reconsider his place in the universe.

You had explained, on occasion, the nature of your kind. A Memokeeper’s task was to collect memories, to preserve them as proof of existence in a world where everything, even stars, would eventually fade. Unlike most, who viewed reality and imagination as distinct, Memokeepers saw them as one. It was a perspective that intrigued Sunday deeply, yet he struggled to fully comprehend it. Perhaps because, in the end, he wasn’t sure what was real anymore.

"How do you hold on to something so... fleeting?" he asked softly, his voice carrying a weight that betrayed the many layers of his thoughts.

You turned toward him, your expression serene, but there was a flicker of something deeper in your eyes, an understanding of the burden he carried. "We don't hold on to it. We let it flow through us, and in doing so, we become it."

Sunday looked at you, his gaze lingering on the delicate curve of your cheek, the ethereal quality of your being, and how it seemed as though you were made of light itself. "Do you ever feel... trapped by your memories?" His voice faltered at the question, as though he were reaching for something he couldn’t quite touch.

For a moment, there was silence, save for the distant hum of the train and the occasional flicker of stars outside. You took a step closer, your fingers brushing lightly against the air as you spoke, your voice gentle and calm.

"Trapped?" you mused. "No. We are the keepers, not the prisoners. Memories are not chains. They are bridges."

His brow furrowed slightly. "But what if the memories are of things you can never change? Things that haunt you?" His words were quieter now, as if he were speaking more to himself than to you. The weight of his past—of the choices he had made, of the lives he had shaped, for better or worse—pressed down on him once more.

You studied him with a knowing gaze, as though seeing through the veil of his facade. "Hauntings are but echoes of what was, Sunday. The question is not whether the memories are painful, but whether we let them define us." You paused, letting your words settle. "What you choose to do with them—that is what matters."

Sunday’s eyes flickered as if a distant thought had just emerged, one that had been buried beneath layers of rationality and philosophy. He had spent so long trying to change the world, trying to create a place free of suffering, that he had neglected the simplest truth: he could not change the past. He could only move forward.

"But how?" he asked, his voice filled with quiet desperation. "How can I move forward, when the past keeps whispering in my ears?"

You smiled softly, a knowing, almost maternal expression on your face. "You are already moving forward, Sunday. Your journey on the Astral Express is proof of that. The question is not if you will move forward, but how you will choose to remember."

There it was again: remember. It was a word he had often associated with pain, with the weight of regret and guilt, but somehow, in your presence, it felt lighter. It felt like a possibility, a way to reclaim something precious without being bound to it.

For the first time in a long while, Sunday allowed himself to truly look at you. Not just as a fellow traveler aboard the Express, but as someone who embodied a truth he had yet to accept.

"I... I think I understand," he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. "Memories are not the end of us. They can be... a part of something greater."

You nodded, your eyes fluttering slightly as you gazed at him with an expression of quiet encouragement. "Exactly. And sometimes, the greatest gift you can give to the past is to let it go, while still carrying it with you."

Sunday fell silent, his mind now processing your words, considering their implications. Perhaps this was the true path to redemption—not the erasure of pain, but the acceptance of it, and the ability to carry it without letting it define him.

As the train continued its journey through the stars, Sunday found himself standing a little taller. He wasn’t sure where this journey would take him, but for the first time in a long while, he felt like he might finally be on the right path.

In the labyrinthine corridors of the IPC, where deals and schemes wove through the very fabric of power, Aventurine stood as an enigma, a master of manipulation with a heart haunted by the ghosts of his past. His smile, enigmatic and ever-present, was a mask that concealed the fractured man beneath. The ‘Aventurine of Stratagems,’ a name he wore with pride, was a title earned through unrelenting gambles and sacrifices, yet it was the one thing that kept him from truly losing himself.

But on this particular day, something—or rather, someone—was pulling at the threads of his carefully constructed world. Someone who didn’t need to gamble to see through the veil.

You. The Memokeeper.

A fleeting figure, a whisper of another existence, you moved through worlds unrestrained by physical boundaries. Memokeepers were creatures of memories—preservers of the immortal, the eternal. You had no flesh, no true form. Only the shifting remnants of memories you carried with you, the fragments of countless lives you had touched and stolen.

When Aventurine first encountered you, he had been intrigued. Memokeepers were not common, and your mysterious nature had piqued his interest. But it was your ability to navigate through time and space, your unflinching grasp of memory as a permanent artifact, that truly captivated him.

"You never forget, do you?" Aventurine's voice was smooth, laced with his signature mix of challenge and curiosity as you stood across from him in a darkened room, a flicker of memory flashing in your eyes.

You tilted your head slightly, a soft, almost imperceptible smile gracing your lips. "For a moment, I thought you would say 'never forgive.'" You said it with an air of knowing, your voice gentle yet profound. "But no... you are too familiar with your own regrets to seek forgiveness."

Aventurine’s smile faltered for just a fraction of a second. The hint of vulnerability did not go unnoticed. The last surviving member of a lost clan, haunted by survivor's guilt—those wounds ran deep. His facade was usually flawless, but before you, it felt fragile, a thin layer barely holding back a flood of emotions he hadn’t let surface in years.

"You speak as though you understand me," he remarked, his voice regaining its usual confidence. "But I’ve played this game for too long to be an open book."

"Yet, here you are," you countered, stepping closer, the air thick with the power of your words. "A man who wagers lives as easily as others breathe. Do you think I can't see the stakes you're playing for? The past you can never escape?"

There was a moment of silence, one where Aventurine’s usual bravado seemed to crack slightly, revealing the ever-present tension in his posture, the subtle guarding of his left hand behind his back. He wasn't ready to expose his fragility, not yet.

"You play with the illusion of luck," you continued, your voice almost hypnotic. "But I know what you really seek. You gamble because you fear being forgotten, because you fear that if you stop playing, your existence will cease to matter."

Aventurine’s eyes narrowed, gleaming with a mixture of challenge and intrigue. He tilted his head slightly, as if contemplating your words, but his tone remained steady. "And what of you, Memokeeper? Are you truly immortal, or just a collector of lies?"

You didn’t flinch. "Memory is the only true immortality. Everything fades—worlds, stars, even gods. But memories... memories last longer than anything else. They are what make us real. What make us matter."

He chuckled softly, his lips curling into that all-too-familiar grin. "I suppose you would say that. After all, you're in the business of making things last forever."

Aventurine’s eyes lingered on you for a moment longer than he intended, and for a brief instant, he wondered what it would be like to have his memory preserved—not his reputation or his empire, but his very essence. Would someone like you, a Memokeeper, truly see him for who he was beneath the layers of strategy and artifice?

"I’ve seen countless memories," you said, your voice soft but heavy with meaning. "But there's something about you... You're not a mere gambler, not just someone who risks it all. There's something darker in you, a longing for connection, yet a fear of it."

He looked at you with raised eyebrows, a hint of amusement playing at the corners of his lips. "You really think you can see all that from just a glance?"

"You show more than you think," you said, your gaze steady, your words unshaken. "And it's those little things—the way you hide your left hand, the pauses in your speech, the smile that never reaches your eyes—that tell me you are more than the games you play."

The silence stretched, an unspoken challenge between you. He couldn’t deny it. He had always thought of himself as untouchable, an orchestrator of every move. But you? You had no need for power or control. You simply existed, transcendent and free.

And yet, despite all that, Aventurine felt something strange stirring within him—a desire to be remembered, not just for his gambles, but for the man he truly was.

"Perhaps you're right," he finally said, his voice quieter, more contemplative. "Perhaps there is more to me than even I realize."

You smiled, a soft, knowing expression, and for the first time, Aventurine’s smile seemed a little less rehearsed, a little more genuine. The idea of someone, a Memokeeper no less, understanding the depths of his soul was an uncomfortable yet fascinating thought.

"I don’t need to gamble to know your worth, Aventurine," you said, your eyes twinkling with an almost imperceptible warmth. "But perhaps, just once, you might stop playing and let someone else remember you. For who you really are."

For the first time in a long while, Aventurine didn’t immediately respond with a quip or a strategy. He simply watched you, his mind turning, calculating the possibilities. What would it mean to be remembered? To be seen beyond the mask of the gambler, the strategist, the survivor?

In that moment, Aventurine felt the first stirrings of a gamble he had never before considered: the gamble of letting someone in.

Oh damn, this was long af... 🫣😨

Also I couldn't come up with a better title so yeah...🧍‍♀️

[trrsseea]

The Choices We Make

pairing: Bucky x reader

warning: non

Bucky sat on the edge of his bed, staring at his vibranium hand. The dog tags around his neck clinked softly as he shifted, the sound somehow heavier than usual. Y/n was in the kitchen, humming to herself as she made breakfast, blissfully unaware of the war raging in his mind.

It wasn’t her fault. She was perfect—kind, smart, patient, everything he didn’t think he deserved. But that was the problem. Wasn’t it? She deserved someone who fit into her world. Someone who understood memes without needing them explained. Who didn’t get overwhelmed by crowds or who could actually laugh along with her friends instead of feeling like an outsider in their world. He didn’t belong here. Not at this time. Not with her.

Y/n walked in her hair slightly mussed from the morning, wearing one of my old shirts. She was holding a tray balanced carefully in her hands, carrying a breakfast, golden French toast and two steaming mugs. I assumed one was tea for her and the other, black coffee for me. Her face lit up with her usual radiant smile, a look so serene and angelic that she seemed almost otherworldly.

She smiled even brighter, which I didn’t think was possible as she handed me a mug. “Morning, sleepyhead.” I looked up and took the coffee, but the warmth of the mug did little to ease the cold feeling in my chest.

“Y/n, we need to talk,” I said, my voice low but steady.

She frowned, placing her mug on the table with a soft clink. “That sounds ominous,” she said, followed by a light giggle, unaware of just how right she was.

I took a deep breath, staring into the dark liquid swirling in the mug I held tightly. “I’ve been thinking… maybe this isn’t working.”

Her brow furrowed. “What do you mean?” At first, she didn’t understand, but then she realised it.

“We’re fine. Aren’t we?” she asked, her frown deepening as her eyes searched mine.

I shook my head, unable to meet her eyes. “You deserve someone… normal. Someone who understands your world, your jokes, your friends. Someone who isn’t stuck in the past.”

“Bucky,” she said softly, sitting beside me. “Where is this coming from? Did something happen?” She sounds worried and places her hand gently on my knee, her thumb moving in slow, soothing circles.

“It’s not one thing,” I admitted, setting the coffee down. “It’s everything. You’re young, Y/n. You have your whole life ahead of you. And I’m… I’m old. I’ve lived through things you can’t even imagine. And sometimes, I feel like I’m dragging you into my mess.”

She stops the movement of her hand “That’s not how I see it,” she said firmly.

“I know,” I said, finally meeting her gaze. “But it’s how I feel. And I don’t think it’s fair to you. You could be with someone who doesn’t come with all this… baggage.” I gesture to myself.

She stared at me for a long moment, her expression unreadable. Then, she stood up, crossing her arms. “Okay, let’s break this down. First of all, yes, you’re older. But that doesn’t mean we don’t understand each other. And you’re not the only one who has been through tough things. Everyone has baggage, Bucky.” She says firmly not letting her shields down.

“It’s not the same,” I argued.

“I’m not saying it’s the same baggage,” she countered, her voice steady, “but we all have something we fight.”

“No, it’s not,” she admitted, her tone softening. “But it doesn’t have to be. We don’t have to be the same to make this work.”

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. “Y/n, you’re too good for this. For me.”

She let out a short laugh, shaking her head. “You don’t get to decide that for me. I knew who you were when we started this, Bucky. I chose this. I chose you. And yeah, it’s not always easy, but what relationship is?” She smiled slightly at me.

I looked up at her, the walls I’d been building around myself starting to crack. “What if I can’t give you what you need? What if—”

“Stop,” she interrupted, sitting back down beside him. “What I need is you. Flaws, baggage, your dad jokes, and all of you. You don’t have to have everything figured out, Bucky. We can figure it out together.”

I was silent for a long moment, the weight of her words sinking in. “What if I can’t be enough?”

She moved to sit on top of me, each leg on one side, and placed her hands on my cheeks, her gaze locking onto mine. “Then we deal with it. Together. But you don’t get to push me away because you’re scared. That’s not fair to me.”

I stared at her, my throat tight. “I don’t deserve you.”

“Maybe not,” she said with a small smile. “But I’m not going anywhere.”

I wrapped my arms around her waist, pulled her close, and buried my face against her, inhaling her familiar scent. She responded by wrapping her arms around me, holding me just as tightly.

I let out a soft laugh, shaking my head. “You’re stubborn.”

“That’s why you like me,” she whispered into my ear brushing her lips softly against it.

Without thinking, I lifted my head closing the distance between us, and pressed my lips softly against hers. The kiss was tender, lingering for a moment as if we both needed the reassurance.

And for the first time in weeks. I felt a flicker of hope. Maybe we could make this work Maybe I didn’t have to do this alone.