#i’m so so sorry that whining is all i ever do anymore and i shouldn’t be so sad about this over and over again

[xoxochb]

omg aphrodite!reader having her first kiss with percy <3 it would be so cute rahhh

— ribbons in your hair ꣑ৎ‧₊˚.

warnings: fluff fluff fluff!!! pairing: lovesick! percy jackson x daughter of aphrodite

“do you like ‘em?”

you smile brightly and turn around with a jump, revealing to percy your two braided strands tied at the ends with tiny pink ribbons. what kind of question was that, though? like them? of course he liked them! he liked anything that had anything even slightly to do with you.

“they’re great! I love them.”

you squeal and run over to sit atop your bed next to percy. absentmindedly, he takes this opportunity to take each of your braids between his palms delicately thumbs running over the curves of your hair, and ending over the ribbon tying it all together. he silently hopes you can’t see the utter adoration in his eyes or perhaps the faint blush coating his cheeks or the way he feels completely limp simply sitting beside you.

“(name)…” he murmurs, releasing your hair and letting his hands now fall on his lap.

“yes?”

shit. the soft tone of your voice makes him feel weak. thank the gods he’s sitting down.

“uhm…” he searches for the right words. no. he shouldn’t do this now, not when one of your siblings could walk in at any moment (and he new drew wasn’t entirely the nicest person either. that girl’s scary as shit). “nothing.”

you murmur an ‘oh’ and your smile falls into a frown.

“sorry, I just- well… it was nothing important, I didn’t think you’d care much.”

“I care about everything you have to say. even if it’s stupid. or one of your stupid dad jokes.” your lips turn upwards a tad at the mere remembrance of his idiotic humor.

“you hate dad jokes.”

“well, yours are okay.”

percy’s heart flutters like butterfly wings. please aphrodite don’t make me look stupid, he thinks to himself. though by now he’s probably already made a fool of himself. he’s hopeless. slowly, with a shaky hand, he reaches out to gently take one of your hands into his. he looks up to meet your eyes to look for any sign of discomfort with the action. he finds nothing.

“(name), have you ever…” he swallows harshly. “have you ever kissed anyone before?”

your brows furrow and you murmur, “no.”

oh. he was sure you had to have kissed someone before. you were… well, you! a favored daughter of aphrodite, kind, absolutely stunning, and admittedly a little horrifying sometimes. he loved you all the same regardless.

“I’ve never kissed anyone either.” it’s silent for a moment before he works up the courage to ask the next question. “would you maybe want to… well actually- can I tell you something?”

“of course.”

“this might be weird and I’ll understand if you don’t want to be friends anymore or if you’ll hate me… but I just… I really like you. more than friends. and I get this is weird but I really like you, it hurts, like in my chest it physically hurts me and it’s hard going everyday not telling you that I love you when I do and its almost unbearable at this point, I mean you occupy all my thoughts everything’s always about you, and don’t get cocky over that because I know you will and you’ll never let me get over telling you that but really what I’m trying to say is that—”

his ramble is abruptly ended when he feels a sudden warmth over his lips. for a moment he can’t understand what’s happening, but when his senses are regained he realizes it’s your lips that are locked with his, and his brain turns to soup, any coherent thought he once had diminished. and he lets himself sink into it despite the nervous storm of butterflies in his tummy.

when you eventually pull away he nearly whines at the loss of contact. though he remembers your hands are still entwined and calms. his gaze sticks on that.

“you talk too much,” you whisper. “and you’re right.”

“about what?” percy looks up to your eyes. though the mischievous glint in them makes him wish he hadn’t asked for clarification.

“I am so never going to let you forget that everything is about me.”

[flowercrowngods]

always so funky to be reminded that your parents might love you but they don’t actually like you very much

[list4r]

Girl dad Gojo girl dad Gojo!

Ever since your daughter has been welcomed into the world, life has gotten so busy. So Satoru decided to slow down on his work as a sorcerer to help out. Plus he definitely never wanted to miss out on his daughter’s life.

It was still a busy life since he really couldn’t help his busy schedule some days, you didn’t fault him though. So Satoru decided that on the days he had off he would stay home while you went out. Tonight was one of those nights, he was entertaining his four year old twin (your guy’s daughter) while you were getting ready for a night out with friends.

So… that’s why Satoru was currently sitting in a pink princess chair that was way too small for him to even be sitting in. Gojo Satoru the most powerful being in the world was currently whining while his daughter tied bows a little too tightly in his hair.

“Owwwww… baby not too tight that hurts, you don’t wanna hurt papa do you?” Satoru gives the child his best pleading face in which the girl respond smacking his head with the hairbrush.

“She has your attitude honey.” Satoru turns to you, admiring you as you do your hair in the full length mirror. He always loved the way you looked when you were focused, tongue poking out and everything.

“You’ve obviously never met yourself Toru.” You shake your head as you glance at the oversized man in the small chair. “Nice hair too.”

He frowns as he turns back around. “How come my hair doesn’t look as pretty as mamas hair?”

“Because mama was born pretty!”

“Okay was papa born pretty too?”

“Umm….” She completely ignores his question as she pulls out makeup. “Stay still papa!”

He huffs with his signature pout in his face. “You know we look alike? You have my amazing hair baby how could you not think papa is pretty!?!” He watches as the little girl pats a way too generous amount of blush on his pale cheeks.

“I’m gonna make papa pretty so don’t worry! But… not as pretty as mama.” She shakes her head. “Mama is the prettiest.”

“Awww baby you really think so?” By this time you finished getting ready, crouching to her height. “But mama thinks her little girl is the prettiest of them all.”

“Nuh uh! Papa always says mama is the prettiest he’s ever seen! But he said that’s a secret and I shouldn’t tell any- oops… sorry papa.”

Satoru shakes his head lightly as he chuckled. “Guess that cat’s out of the bag huh? Guess who won’t be telling secrets anymore.”

“Nice to know you’re still obsessed with me all these years later.”

“Of course I am, would be crazy not to.” He walks over to you as he wraps an arm around your waist, shamelessly admiring you. “Be safe tonight alright?”

“Always am.” You give him a quick peck on the lips, in which he returns with a full on kiss.

“Ewwwwww no kissing mama and papa! Gross gross gross.” The little girl stand between your pair of legs. “My turn mama!”

“Silly girl.” You crouch down to give her a kiss, earning a giggle. “I’ll see you two later tonight because I know someoneeee will let you stay up past your bedtime.”

“That was once if I can remember.”

“Three times papa!”

“Okay three times…”

[literaila]

what was readers (atf) reaction to finding out tsumiki being cursed and put in coma? probably felt like she’s failed at protecting her children after years of balancing their lives and safety. hopefully sobbed in gojos arms 😭

“satoru,” you croak out.

your voice is nothing but a mere whisper. it’s a drop of water in the ocean, a footstep on the expanse of the world.

you’ve never felt so small. you’ve never felt like your actions mean nothing more. never more helpless, than this.

“hey,” satoru says, and you know that he can tell that there’s something wrong. “what’s going on?”

“can you come home?”

“yeah, yeah of course i can, baby. i’ll call ijichi to pick me back up. what’s happening?”

“satoru,” you say, again, because there’s almost nothing left.

“hey. hey. we’ll fix it, whatever it is. talk to me.”

“tsumiki’s in the hospital.”

your hands clench around the steering wheel. there might be an ethical discussion to be had about the danger of driving with tears in your eyes, talking on the phone.

but you could give less than a damn about safety, right now. right now—it just doesn’t matter.

there’s a pause.

you can hear satoru breathing.

“what?”

“megumi—“ you wipe your eyes, speeding up. the law can be damned too. “megumi said that she wouldn’t get out of bed this morning—that he couldn’t wake her up. and so he called me and then i—“ you stop, gasping for air that’s practically unreachable. “i told him to—“ but you break off again, because your throat is burning.

“what hospital?”

“i don’t—i can’t remember the name.”

“okay.”

“i’ll—i’ll send it to you. when i get there. im on my way now.”

“are you driving?”

“yeah.”

“okay, baby. send it to me when you can.”

your eyes well up once again. “did you finish your mission?”

“no. i’d just gotten here. it’s probably better that way, ijichi isn’t far. i’ll be there soon as i can, okay?”

“okay. i—i’m sorry.”

“why are you sorry?”

you can’t hold back a gasp, a sob, any iteration of failure that might fit. “satoru,” you say, wishing so badly that he was right there with you. “i should’ve stayed home. megumi shouldn’t have found her, he shouldn’t have—“

“you think this is you fault?”

“i just—i shouldn’t have left them alone. what if—“

“no.” satoru is almost whining, but not quite. “megumi isn’t six anymore, sweetheart. he’s fourteen. he’s alone all of the time. how were you supposed to know—“

“i’m their mom. i’m supposed to protect them from stuff like this.”

“you can’t control when something bad happens.”

“i can’t—she’s—“

“we’re going to figure it out. tsumiki’s strong—she’s probably the strongest of all of us. she’ll be fine.”

“you don’t know that.”

“i do.”

“why’d this have to happen to her? to our little—“ you stop, feeling that digging in the pit of your soul. that tiny little chant—failure, failure, failure.

“i don’t know,” satoru whispers. “i’m sorry.”

“why are you sorry?”

“i don’t know,” he whispers again.

“is ijichi there yet?”

“almost.”

“okay.”

“hey,” he says, again, in some kind of secret language. “it’s going to be fine.”

“okay.”

“are you still driving, baby?”

“i’m almost there. one, two minutes.”

“want me to stay on the phone?”

“yes.”

“okay. i’m right here. i’m almost there,” and he says it over and over.

hoping that maybe it’ll come true.

though, you’re not quite sure that satoru will ever get there fast enough.

[friendsoup]

Hi!! I love your writing and i saw request open though i not sure if you write for medicine pocket. If you do, could you medicine pocket and dikke separately with a usually shy and quiet gn reader that have a secret crush on them and indirectly confess by complaining while in the middle of the battle how reader think medi and dikke are prettier than reader and how amazing they are etc because reader accidentally inhale digger's bubble that cause reader drunk? I sorry if this is confusing but digger bubble seem to cause people high or drunk like so i think that be funny senerio

Sober Thoughts...

Recipe: Romantic confession, Drunk!Reader, Reader x Medicine Pocket, Reader x Dikke, GN! Reader, Lots of bullying Digger..., Reader uses they/them pronouns, tsundere Medicine Pocket..... WC: 1,610 Chef's Note: I'm still learning to write Medicine Pocket, so hopefully this wasn't too bad... Reader acts more like a drunk person in the Dikke version than in the Medicine Pocket version. I hope this is what you wanted, anon!!

The fight was getting boring. You, Digger, and Medicine Pocket were on the front lines this time, mercilessly smashing the critters that threatened the group. To be honest, you felt a bit of pity towards the creatures, an odd twinge of guilt twisting your stomach as you pummeled them without any trouble. It was simply too easy.

But you couldn’t afford to slow down on them. Medicine Pocket was here, and you wanted to impress them. Badly. You could feel their eyes on you from where they stood, boring into the back of your neck. They always seemed to stare so intensely at you, in a way that made your face go warm and your heart beat faster. You had a crush on them, though you’d never say it aloud. You were content with their stares and battling at their side. “I think that’s the last of them!” You called back to your team. You turned your head away from your foes to look at the group, confident that you’d won. It was right then, however, Digger had decided to blow one of his bubbles, which hit you right in the face. “Gah! Sorry! Wasn’t aimin’ for ya, dude!” Digger put his hands in the air, eyes wide with guilt. “You fucking idiot!” You heard Medicine Pocket squeal. “Don’t you ever look at what you’re doing!” They hissed, breaking formation to make their way to you. “Whatever. Let a real doctor make sure they aren’t poisoned, or anything.” “Sorry…” Digger muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. “They shouldn’t be poisoned or anything. They’ll just be a bit loopy.” He attempts to defend. Medicine Pocket shoots him a look that makes him shut right up.

“Here, look at me.” Medicine Pocket tells you. You simply can’t, staring holes into your shoes. Your face feels warm with all the attention that’s on you, your chest feeling fuzzy as the bubble’s effects begin kicking in. “[Name]...” Pocket Medicine coos, lifting up your chin with their gloved hand. “I told you to look at me.”

Their yellow eyes stare into yours, and all at once you feel violently ill. They wear that same intense stare, like they’re studying you, picking you apart from the outside in. You tremble underneath their gaze, your knees feeling suddenly very weak.

“Gaaahhh, I can’t take it anymore!” You whine, lifting your head from their grasp. Medicine Pocket takes a step back, blinking in surprise, while you shake your head wildly. “I can’t take it! How are you so pretty?!”

“I’m…” Medicine Pocket’s eyebrows furrow, a quizzical look spreading on their face. 

“Your eyes are like jewels!” You cry, dragging your hand through your hair. “Your face is so stupidly beautiful, it’s driving me insane!” You feel tears bubbling at the ends of your eyes. “Digger.” Medicine Pocket snaps, looking at the hippie. Digger hides behind his hands, as if attempting to disappear. “Explain this.” Digger attempts a smile, though he’s too worried for it to be genuine. “Some people get emotional when they’re drunk! They’re probably just saying whatever’s on their mind!” Medicine Pocket’s glare intensifies, as Digger shrinks back. “That’s stupid.” They exclaim. “Why would they think I’m-” “And smart too!” You shout. “Every time you talk, it makes me feel so dumb! I can barely understand you! How can someone be so brilliant?!” Medicine Pocket giggles at that. “Well, you’re right. I am very smart.” “And so skilled in battle!” You continue. “True!” They smile. “And so damn easy to fall in love with!” “That’s- Ah?!” Medicine Pocket’s face goes red, their expression paused in shock. “Is this a confession?” They ask, unsure how to react. “Every night I’m awake, thinking about how much I love you! Every time you look at me, I feel like someone’s setting me on fire! I want you more than anything! It’s so stupid! Why do you have to be so damn lovable?! You’re driving me insane, Pocket!” “How is that my fault, dumbass?!” Medicine Pocket asks, hiding their face behind their hand. “H-Hey!” Digger began, walking in between the two of you. “Let’s all take a deep breath! I think the most important thing is getting our friend here home safe. Look, Medicine Pocket, if you don’t want to deal with this right now, I’ll take them back to the suitcase…” “And have a asshole like you fuck this up even more?!” Medicine Pocket snaps. “No way! I’m taking them to the suitcase. I’m not letting you ruin anything else.” Grabbing your hand, Medicine Pocket begins to pull you away. “We’re going, asshole. Come on, dumbass.” They hiss, beginning to walk. Your face burns at the touch, even if it’s through cloth. Once you’re far enough away from Digger, Medicine Pocket begins to speak again.

“I guess… Your stupid face is pretty cute too.” They mutter.

...Are Drunk Words

Dikke wasn’t used to these types of teams. When you were put on board, she was fairly okay with it. Sure, you were a bit shy and soft spoken, but you at least knew how to fight. However, when Digger was placed alongside her… She had a few complaints for the Timekeeper. Complaints that she’d never hear, as knights aren’t supposed to complain, but she was annoyed all the same. At least she could take the front of the battle, and not have to worry about the two of you getting into trouble. She could block the attacks coming your way, and keep an eye on the enemy while Digger made his sorry attempt at an attack spell.

She was confident that the battle had just been won when… “Oh crap! Sorry!” Digger exclaimed. Dikke turned her head to see what the fool had done now, when her eyes fell upon you, swaying in place. Instantly anger filled her chest, as she shot daggers at Digger, who was already trying to shy away. “What did you do.” She demanded, spitting straight venom at the man. “I didn’t mean to, I swear! I was just blowin’ a bubble, when they came out in front of me! Honest!” Digger explained, waving his hands wildly. “Enough.” Dikke growled. “Speak, you.” She shot a look at you, concern beginning to form on her face. “Ough, always so commanding…” You shot back, holding up a finger to point at her. “Youu… You gotta take a load off!” You told her, offering a smile. “Relax every once in a while, it won’t kill you!” “A knight does not relax.” Dikke argued, pulling a face. She’d seen this type of behavior before. From knights and peasants at rowdy pubs. She’d always hated those scenes, too loud and too dangerous. To see you wearing their behavior was uncomfortable. “Waaahhh… Dikke! If you frown like that, your pretty face is going to get wrinkles!” You blurt, crossing your arms. “It’s not good for your skin to look all mad like that!” Dikke’s face went red, her eyes looking anywhere but at you. “We… We have to fight. We can’t sit here and discuss aging.” “Fight, fight, fight, that’s all you wanna do!” You whine. “Can’t we just have fun? Just the two of us?” You ask, batting your eyelashes at the worried Dikke. “What are you talking about?” Dikke asked, glancing from the enemy to you. There was so much going on at the moment, she didn’t know who to focus on. As much as she wanted to comfort you, there was still a fight going on. “We’ll talk about this later.” She decides, brandishing her sword and turning to attack. “Noooo!” You cry. “Don’t leave me!” You stomp your feet like a toddler, feelings bubbling up inside you. 

Dikke almost pulls back, when the creature slashes at her. Without thinking, she strikes back, pulling her sword through the critter. Black ooze gushes out of it, as it’s body falls into two perfectly halved pieces. “Woaaah!” You exclaim, clapping your hands. “Dikke, you’re so fierce! It’s amazing! You’re so beautiful when you fight!” What was going on?! You were just condemning her for fighting seconds ago, and now you were complimenting her fierceness?! Dikke’s heart rate was beginning to rise, her face heating with embarrassment. It felt strange to have a fan.

“H-Hey, [Name], chill out! I think you’re making Dikke angry…” Digger whispered into your ear. Nothing could be further from the truth, but the intense face Dikke was making was beginning to worry him. He didn’t want you to be caught in her crossfire. “Huh?!” You exclaimed. “I’m… making Dikke angry?!” Your eyes began to water, tears quickly falling down your face. “But, I only want to make her happy!” Digger took a step back, confused with the sudden shift in your behavior. Dikke’s eyes met him again and narrowed, making his heart leap to his throat. “[Name].” Dikke commanded, taking your cheek with an armored hand. “Cease your crying. You did not upset me.” You sniffle. “So, you liked that I called you beautiful?” Dikke jumps again, caught off guard by such a bold question. “I… I suppose it was… acceptable…” You jumped onto her, wrapping your hands around the knight and pulling her into a hug. “Yay! I’m so glad!” You cheered. “I love you, I love you!”

Dikke’s face made a deeper shade of red as she lifted you off your feet, holding you bridal style. “You cannot fight like this.” She decided, beginning to walk towards the direction of the suitcase. “I’’ll get you home safely.”

“Woah, woah, wait!” Digger shouted out behind her. “What am I supposed to do with the rest of these monsters?!”

“Fight them.” Dikke said with a sneer. “Or perish.”

[seungfl0wer]

*I’ll do anything* PT. 4

Part Title: Numb

Pairing: Lee Know x Reader (fem)

Genre: Angst

Warnings: Violence, Minho being a dick, animal death, mentions of being shot, lots of yelling, panic attack, not so good thoughts, big warning for Minho putting hands on Reader. This one is very much hurt, with little comfort. Sorry :(

This is part of a series find other parts here:

Series Master List

-🩵

The next morning Minho woke up frantically, you weren’t laying In bed anymore. His heart raced he didn’t know why but he was scared. Scared you left or he’d find you somewhere in the house dead. He sprung to his feet as he opened the door he went to run out only to be greeted with the smell of food. “She- there’s no way” he said bolting it to the kitchen. His eyes locked on your body standing there. Making breakfast. Why the hell were you making breakfast? Why the hell were you even out of bed? He asked himself.

You turned your body to place something on the table only to be met with his gaze. “Oh you’re awake already?” You hummed. Minho stared at you in disbelief “y/n you shouldn’t be- you need to go rest.” He said his voice filled with worry. “I’m fine” you said with a small shrug. But you weren’t. The sting in your side felt like someone had just jabbed you with a hot knife. And well half of that was true it really hurt. It made your body feel weak like you were gonna topple over.

You had this thought that had been eating away at you all night. “I need to be better.” It just kept replaying in your mind. “Be better. Do everything he asks. Stop being so difficult. This is why you don’t have anyone left in your life. You’re just-“ you snapped out of it as you realized you accidentally grabbed the hot pan. Your brain had been on autopilot and you didn’t even register it. You winced at the pain Minho rushing to your side. He took your hand running it under cold water as you whined at the pain.

“Seriously, you need to be careful” he said his voice soft but the hint of annoyance in it made a knot in your throat. “I’m sorry” you said in almost a whisper. Pulling your hand back down after Minho had soothed it. He looked at you sternly “listen y/n you need to go rest don’t worry about this stuff today ok?” He said softly. He took your other hand dragging you to your room “go rest. Got it?” He said with a soft kiss to your cheek. You nodded. He gave you a smile as he walked away shutting your door.

——————🩵——————

Minhos phone rang “yeah hello?” He said fumbling to answer it. “Hey, need you. Here’s the address.” Changbin said quickly before hanging up his voice a bit frantic. Minho sighed walking to your room. You had fallen asleep already he hoped you’d stay asleep till he was back before he walked out the door.

A few hours had passed before you woke up. You stretched looking around eyes still fuzzy. You waddled out of your room looking around for Minho but only finding a note. “Got a call be back soon.” It read. You rubbed your eyes a bit looking around. You shrugged your shoulder a bit before going to clean like normal.

After a bit of cleaning your body started to ache, the throbbing pain in your side growing. You laid down on the couch exhausted feeling your body drained. You let out a sigh, you were going to head to your room when you heard the front door open. Minho was home. He made his way down the hall “are you fucking serious!” You heard him almost yell. Your heart jumped at his loud words. Why was he mad? Was it the job he just came back from or?

Your questions were soon to be answered as Minho peered around the corner. You greeted him with a half smile feeling the anger radiating off of him. “You don’t ever fucking listen do you?” He growls. You feel like a deer in headlights staring at him. Heart pounding, body trembling. “I thought I told you not to do shit? Huh. But you still cleaned the house. Are you fucking serous y/n?” His voice becoming ever so louder as he talked.

“Minho I’m sorry I just-“ his eyes widen coming full force towards you. He pushed you against the wall grabbing your face harshly as he stared daggers at you “excuse me?” He spat out. “Sir-“ you said looking up at his dark eyes. He wanted to say something to you but he bit his lip. He let go of you with a small push heading to his room. You stood there where he left you, body still shaking.

So many thoughts rushed through your head as you walked back to your room hearing Minho yell loudly in his room. Was last night about to repeat itself You thought. You laid in your room for a bit eyes slowly closing before you drifted off you heard Minho leave his room. Door slamming behind him as he did.

You were fast asleep only to be woken up by the sweet smell of food. You made your way to the kitchen finding Minho there. “Sir do you want help?” You asked from the doorway. He looked back at you quickly “no” he said sternly. You walked a bit closer “are you sure I can-“ you started to say before you were cut off. “Y/n I said no for fuck sakes can’t you just fucking listen?!” His hissed his words like daggers. “I- I’m sorry I-“ you stuttered out. “And that too. Stop fucking apologizing for every little thing, it’s annoying” his words flew out.

You nod backing away trying to give him some space. You sat on the chair in the kitchen while he cooked. When he was done he started to move the stuff to the table. You quickly got up to grab plates for him. When you turned to place them down you were met with a bowl of hot food to your body. You had ran into him when he was sitting down the veggies he had just fried. “No no no Minho I’m sorry I-“

“Get out.” He said voice full of anger. You could see his fists bawled up at his sides. “I can fix-“ you started to say. “Y/n if you don’t get out of my sight in the next few seconds” you gulped at his words. You quickly moved back looking up at him slowly “do. Not. Bother me. The rest of the night. Got it.” He said his voice scary calm. You nod before heading back to your room. You curled up into a ball on your bed sobbing uncontrollably.

After about an hour you rubbed your eyes looking around. Searching for your cat to cuddle up too. You realize you hadn’t seen him all day. You searched high and low for him around your room, the kitchen even the garden. Your heart sank when you saw the door to the pool slightly open. No. NO.

You ran towards the door searching everywhere for your beloved cat. When you found him, he was floating in the pool. Your heart braking into millions of pieces. You pulled him out holding him close and you realized he was still breathing. You needed to get him to the hospital as fast as you could. You laid him down on the couch rapped in a towel, running to Minhos room. You knocked thinking to yourself ‘surly even if he’s mad he’d help right?’

He flung the door open “I told you to fucking leave me alone you stupid fucking bitch” he spat out before slamming it in your face. Your face went hot tears starting to prick at your face even more. “Minho please it’s important.” You said knocking again. “If you don’t go away right fucking now. You’ll regret it!” He screamed. You started to bawl going to the living room to grab your precious cat. You rocked him back and forth in your arms as you bawled your eyes out not knowing what to do.

You remembered Jisung had given you his number. You quickly rang him up calling him to come get you. You stood by the door waiting for him. You ran to the car so fast as jisung sped off as you tried settling your cries. “It’s gonna be ok” jisung tried reassuring you. He got to the vet and before the car was even stopped you bolted out. The vet took your cat back, jisung coming in for support. “Is Minho alright? Why didn’t he call me?” He asked softly looking over at you. You raised an eyebrow looking at him. “He.. he was busy…” you stuttered out not wanting to get into everything right now.

“He was really out of it today, and someone ended up getting hurt.” Said looking at the ground. “I’ve never seen him like that.. and after it happened.. the rage he had.. it was kinda scary honestly.” His voice trailed off. “Did something happen before he left?” Looking up at you slowly.

Before you could respond the doctor had come out his face somber. “Y/n I’m sorry. If we had him here just a bit sooner” the doctor said sadness in his voice. You just nodded your head taking your beautiful cat now all cold and stiff. He was all wrapped up in his favorite blanket as you held him close you felt almost numb. “Thank you for trying” you said softly before getting up. Jisung walked after you giving you a hug “I’m sorry y/n..” he said rubbing your back.

You nodded “can.. you just take me home?” You said softly choking back your tears. He nodded heading to the car. Driving back was a whirl wind of emotions, the thought of going back to angry Minho. Having to go burry your cat now.. So many thought made you just numb but not. As he got to your house he gave you a hug telling you to contact him if you needed him. You just nodded walking back up to the house. You took a deep breath in before opening the door. Walking down to head to your room you saw Minho waiting for you.

Minho was sitting on the couch “where the hell did you go?” He yelled at you as you passed the room. You didn’t even acknowledge him as you walked to your room. Honestly was more like you couldn’t hear him over the static that was playing in your head. He got up in a huff gripping your wrist hard. “Y/n answer me! Where the hell were you?” He spat. Something in you just snapped “if you weren’t being such a fucking asshole you’d know!” You Yelled back at him. You pulled your arm away from him and kept walking to your room. You only made it a few steps before minho had grabbed you again. He brought his hands up to your throat squeezing around it. ”You think you can talk to me like that?” He growled.

In the commotion neither of you had noticed Jisung come in. You had forgotten your jacket with the little prints the vet gave you of your cat’s paws. “Minho you fucking asshole!” He said pushing the man off of you. You fell to the floor clutching on your cat’s body, gasping for air. “Jisung” Minho said looking at the man almost confused. “You’re such a fucking dick you know that? Y/n was With me you fucking dumbass.” Jisung spirt out.

“What- why the hell was she” Minho said but was cut off “because you were too busy with your own selfishness to stop being a jerk for 5 fucking seconds. Y/ns fucking cat died.” He screamed at the man. In the mist of all of this you were curled up in the corner holding on to your cat’s body. Your body shook, eyes streaming with water. You were having a massive panic attack. Everything felt slow, you felt like you were gonna die. Your mind raced at thoughts of what was gonna happen as your breath almost stoped.

“Y/n?” Minho said his voice softer “why didn’t you come tell me?” He said moving towards you. “Tried- you- you yelled” you stuttered out. You couldn’t catch your breath. As he started towards you, you flinched away scared of what was gonna happen. His body froze at the sight, heart shattering. “I-“ his voice stuck. “Don’t say sorry. It’s not gonna fix how you’re treating her you asshole!” Jisung spat. He picked you up carrying you to your bed. He helped you calm down enough before heading over to Minho. “You’re honestly lucky dude” he said before heading to the door. “I’ll be back in the morning to check on her and if you do anything.. You’ll be sorry.” And with that he was gone. For now.

Jisung was never one to confront the boss really, but his opinion mattered a good deal to Minho. Minho has never seen him like this. So willing to put himself out there for someone else, and against him. He knew he really fucked up.

You laid in your room for a bit trying to calm yourself fully. Minho had run off to do something before making his way to your room. “I know sorry’s not gonna fix anything I’ve done today but.. I’m sorry” he said voice ghostly. “Will.. will you come with me?” He said reaching out his hand. You nod, but you didn’t take his hand. You walked past him waiting for him to show you whatever it was. He felt a lump in his throat when you didn’t take his hand. It hurt of course but he deserved it.

He led you to the garden to a small spot he had just made “I should have been there for you. And I’m truly sorry about that.” His voice horse. “I made a nice spot for him, and we can plant pretty flowers on top so it’s like him regrowing” Minho spoke. He looked over at you, your neck slightly bruised from where he had grabbed you. “Listen.. if you hate me after today I get it. I don’t blame you at all. I just- I was so out of it today and..” his voice trailed off. “Changbin got really hurt because of me”

Your head flung over looking at him “Changbin got hurt?” You asked softly. He nodded “yeah.. he got shot and the one was really close to a major organ. He could have died and it would have been my fault.” He said. You could tell he was choking back his tears. “I’m not telling you this all for you to feel bad for me.. I’m just.. i don’t know..” he mumbled. You leaned your head against him “Min.. I’m not gonna say everything’s gonna be ok but I get it.”

He looked at you a bit confused “what I’m saying is it’s ok, I’m not mad. I mean I am but I’ll get over it. Just know things might be different” you said placing your cat down into the perfectly sized hole. “I’m honestly scared of you” you admitted. “What you did today brought back so much trauma and I’m not gonna be able to get past it quickly.” You continued as he listened. He nodded “I get it. But I’ll show you I’m sorry.” He said his voice cracking. You both kept talking as you buried your cat.

After you were done you headed to your room, Minho to his. “Y/n” he said softly “I love you” he said Making eye contact. “I love you too Min” you said softly. Closing your doors. Minho broke down right away putting his back to the door crying hard. It was gonna take a lot for him to fix his mistake but he was willing to do it for you. Anything for you.

💙 If you’d like to read more of my stuff you can find it Here: Master List . Thank you for reading and if requests are open or you just wanna talk feel free to send me something🩵

Tagglist: @linoxii, @scuzmunkie @minh0scat @chuuyaobsessed @gloriajovicc @itscallypygekritagenis

[suguru-getos]

Angry much? | Keigo Takami x F!Reader | Warnings: Degradation, brat-taming, spanking, mean dom!Kei, Still loves you so he’s niceys only you don’t want him niceys iykyk :3

Shoved down on the mattress face first, ass up and beautifully perked on sight for Keigo to do whatever he wishes. Your soft rabid pants were paid no heed to, your futile struggling as well. “Move again and I will fuckin’ tie you up.” Keigo was not nice today, you understood that. You didn’t want him to be nice today in the first place.  “Ngh-” you managed to break out in a fake, resisting murmur which granted you a harsh spank on the curve of your ass. Keigo had long fingers, and a sturdy hand especially when he administers control and reprimands. 

Oh and you love every second of it, sending jolts and waves into you, making you gasp and rut for more. Which is exactly what you did, arching your ass up for more. “Such a needy fuckin-” Keigo stopped, he didn’t want to degrade you. He was very clear about when degradation will happen, it will never be in anything heated, it will only be when you ask for it and both the conditions didn’t suffice.  “AH-” You managed to break out in a whimper, feeling another hit land right across the same spot, while his feathers quickly ripped off your clothing. Keigo was pent up, his emotions brimming with carnality which needed to be taken out, drunk by you and accepted by you. You hissed, feeling two or three paper cuts in your inner thigh from his ever so sharp blade like plumes.  “You okay? Shit-” Keigo registered the happening scenario, taking immediate back foot. “I’m okay don’t you dare stop~” You whined out, resisting it with a boulder-like determination. 

An amused smirk ran down Keigo’s face, “Painslut” He cooed, watching you smirking at the audacious nickname, granting him a ‘Yes’ to the degradation. He realized maybe he shouldn’t be too gentle; kissing your reddened ass once more, before using his feather, making it sturdy and landing another sharp hit right across. You screamed this time- deliciously dancing around in the high of pain and pleasure.  Another- Another scream... Another- Another scream... Another... and you couldn’t scream anymore. The resistance building and your cunt squeezing around nothing, you needed him.  “You pissed me off today, you understand?” Keigo was stern, almost making your confidence shake with uncertainty of the consequences.  “Yes, I understand.” Another hit landed across your ass, this time arching you forward as you squealed, pressing your legs together and tearing up.  “What do you understand?” Keigo’s charming voice echoed, hands sympathetically soothing onto your now bruised ass. “I should have taken your feather with me.”  You managed to speak clearly, knowing full well if you didn’t, if your voice wavered, Keigo would soften up and you didn’t want that.  “Yeah, exposed yourself to?” Keigo murmured, spreading your pussy lips and watching your juices dribble down, softly kissing your needy clit and leaning away. “To danger” You whined out, arching up and shoving yourself closer to his face again. “Grind like a slut and I won’t even grant you friction. Tie you up all night and abuse your pretty tits so your pussy learns to fuckin’ behave.”  You clenched around nothing, it sounded so delicious you’d almost willingly brat more. Then again, Keigo’s tongue feels better anyways. “Sorry.” “Are you?” “Yeah” “Get on your back and present your cunt then, I’ll decide whether to fuck you or not from your desperation” Oh you love him- how his eyes were still tender, mixed with authoritative siren gaze eating you up. You also wanted to be put in your place anyway, Keigo treats you like glass. About time he atleast changes that, scarcely maybe.

[hopefulromances]

I Feel You - Jamie Tartt x demi!Reader

A/N: Hello to my faithful followers! I'm sorry I've been so inactive for the past couple weeks I've been down in the dumps and sorta uninspired.

But the crazy thing is I've hit 1k followers! What? How is that even possible! I'm planning to put together a little celebration soon but for now, here's an unrequested fic that I wrote featuring a demi!reader on the acespec!

See y'all soon!

Words: 2.2k

Warnings: Fem!Reader (she/her pronouns), Drunkenness, I think that's it

OooO

Jamie had to be the lamest footballer in the world. It was a Friday night and instead of going out and finding a club to get drunk at, he was sitting on his couch reading a bloody book. Fucking Roy Kent had gotten to him, that bastard. He wasn’t expecting anyone to come by so when there was a knock on the door, Jamie was surprised. 

There on his doorstep was (Y/N). Pacing, wobbly, back and forth seemingly trying to take off her shoes without sitting down. 

“(Y/N)?” He opened the door, turning on the porch light. 

(Y/N) was someone Jamie had been friends with for a long time. Longer than anyone else, maybe. She’d grown up with im in Manchester, and gone to college in London when he got called up. When he was busy being a prick and cutting people out of his life, she stayed, refusing to be cut. And here she was, drunk on his doorstep. 

She spun in spot, her eyes lighting up when she saw him. “Jamie!”

She fell forward onto him in a sloppy hug. Jamie caught her in his arms, realizing with a chuckle that she was beyond wasted. He hoisted her up so she was tucked into his side so he could properly assist her while closing the door and turning off the lights. 

“Jamieee,” She sang, sweetly, pulling Jamie with all her might to get them to topple over.

“At least one of us had a good night,” Jamie muttered. 

“It was ‘meh’,” (Y/N) admitted, shrugging. “Felt all wonky all night.”

Jamie pulled her into his bathroom, sitting her down on the toilet seat. She slumped back, as it finally feeling her exhaustion. He filled up his water cup and handed it to her, having to help her put her hand on and grip the cup.

“Drink,” he instructed. 

“It’s like, I’m over here, looking and waiting,” she continued, pausing for a second to glug down a large sip of water. “And everyone else is over there. Falling in love, dating, kissing, and I’m just,” she made a raspberry with her mouth.

Jamie found a cloth and the bottle of makeup remover she’d left at his house one time, dabbing some of the serum on the cloth. He walked back over to her, kneeling so he could be at eye height with her. 

“Mmhmm,” he hummed, starting to dab at her face like she’d taught him. 

“Why can’t I feel that, Jamie?” She whined, leaning into his touch. “Why can't I just find a dude and just kiss him? What’s wrong with me?”

Jamie frowned, pausing his dabbing for a moment. “What do you mean, darling?”

“I just mean,” now she was frowning too. “I try to go on dates, hook up with random guys, and I just feel… nothing.” Jamie, pursed his lips, moving the cloth gently over her face. Her eyes fluttered closed as he swished over her eyelids delicately. “But I’m so tired of waiting… I don’t want to settle anymore.”

“You shouldn’t have to settle,” Jamie agreed softly. 

“But I also don’t want to be alone forever,” she opened her eyes and Jamie stopped washing her face. 

“You won’t be alone forever,” he droned. This was a conversation they’d had before. She was afraid she’d never find the one, and Jamie reassured her that she would. Of course, she would. She was beautiful, and funny, and headstrong in all the important ways.

“I’ve only ever liked one person, in my whole entire life,” she hiccuped. “And he…” 

“He what, love?” Jamie went to stand but she grabbed onto his pants, stopping him from moving away. He looked down and she looked very small. He’d never seen her look so small before. 

“He’s been my best friend since we were kids,” she muttered, looking up at him. “When I look at him, I feel this flutter in my chest. And no matter how hard I try to feel that with other people, I just can’t.” She looked between his eyes. “I can’t.” 

Jamie could feel his heart pounding in his chest, his blood rushing in his ears. Was she saying what he thought she was saying? She couldn’t be. Either way, she needed to go to bed. 

“You… uh… you can stay here tonight, yeah?” He took the cup from her hand and filled it back up. “I’ll go put out some sleep clothes in the guest bed.” 

She looked disappointed when he didn’t acknowledge her rambling, but she nodded, taking a pitiful sip from her cup of water. He watched her a moment before pounding on the sink and walking out to grab a shirt for her. 

As he set up the bed for her, his mind was racing through what she had said. The best friend from childhood that she’d liked forever. It couldn’t be him… could it? Not after everything he’d put her through. 

When he walked back to the bathroom, she’d fallen asleep on the toilet. Chest rising and falling steadily, her eyelashes resting against her cheeks. His chest fluttered as he looked at her, a gentle smile coming over his lips. He slid one arm under her legs and another around her back, resting her head on his shoulder. She curled into him immediately, nestling her nose into his neck. 

He brought her to the room, he’d set up maneuvering her carefully so he could take her clothes off. She’d changed in front of him before, felt comfortable around him, but he still was careful of his hands and quickly putting on more comfortable clothes.

She mumbled incoherently as he laid her down and pulled the covers over her. His hand rested on her cheek for a moment, her face slightly flushed from her night out. He was tempted to get in the bed with her, keep her safe and warm in his arms but he swatted that thought away quickly. Instead he leaned down and pressed a kiss to her temple.

The next morning when he woke up, he went to check on her, but she wasn’t in the room. Then he heard humming and the smell of bacon filling the air. He padded down the steps and saw her in the kitchen, cooking and sipping on his coffee like she owned the place. He shoved his tongue in his cheek to stop himself from laughing as he watched her. 

She spun around, dancing to the song in her head, yelping and freezing when she saw him. 

“Oh!” She sighed, throwing her hand over her heart when she realized it was him. “Jamie! You scared me.” 

“Scare you? This is my house, you know,” Jamie laughed, leaning across the island. 

She rolled her eyes, sliding a cup of coffee across to him. “Two creams, one sugar, yeah?”

Jamie looked down at the coffee, knowing Roy would kill him if he took a sip. ‘Your body is a temple’ and ‘caffeine is a drug’ and whatever, but she was looking at him so sweetly there was no way he could say no to it. So, he reached down and took a sip. 

“That’s it, yah,” it tasted perfect. No one else made his coffee like she did. “Do you know how you ended up here?”

She slowed her cooking for a second. He couldn’t see her face, she was turned facing the wall, but he saw her back tense just the slightest bit. 

“Uh… I don’t remember, really,” (Y/N) answered. “Just woke up here… figured it was just where I thought I’d be safest.” 

Jamie felt his cheeks heat up, trying to hide it by taking a sip of his coffee. “You, eh, were out with the girls?” 

She turned around, sliding the bacon onto the two plates she’d set out. She was deep in thought, he could tell by the way she picked the skin off her lip, reaching up to pull a piece of hair out of her face. 

“Yeah…” she whispered. “It was Larsen’s birthday. Wanted to go have a hot girl night. Find some guys to go home with.”

Ah. Now he got it. She’s gone out with her friends and they’d all gone home with guys and she was left alone. She was upset because she thought she was unwanted. He grimaced at her. 

“Did Larsen ditch you again? I told you to stop hanging out with her,” Jamie comforted, reaching to grab a piece of bacon. (Y/N) didn’t answer, she just stared down at the greasy meat on her plate. “Oh, c’mon, (Y/N), you can’t really believe that because of one bad night that no one wants you.” 

She furrowed her brow, shaking her head. “No that’s….” She looked up at him, looking back and forth between his eyes. “Do you really think that I couldn’t find one person to go home with?”

Now Jamie was confused. He pursed his lips, not sure how to answer. 

“He was great. Attractive enough, I suppose, saying all the right things,” she mumbled, suddenly unable to meet his eyes. “We chatted for a while. But I just felt… nothing.” Her fist open and closed as she fought the nervous energy. “He was kissing me, holding me, doing all the things that should have made me feel… something. But it was like… I felt nothing! It was like there was something blocking my brain from just latching onto something random.”

“He was… kissing you?” Jamie cringed as he said it. He wasn’t sure exactly why he’d said it and she looked at him like she was crazy. 

“Yes, he was,” she scoffed, running a hand through her hair. “He wanted to do a lot more but I couldn’t feel it. I didn’t feel anything.” She rested her elbows on the counter, her head in her hands. “God, what is wrong with me? Every other person we went out with went home with whatever stranger they’d met that night. But me? I feel so… stunted.” 

Jamie was surprised by her sudden admission. It wasn’t something he’d felt before, but he wanted her to feel the things he felt for her. The care and softness that he felt for her. 

“I know I want it,’ she continued. “I feel it sometimes… for… one person. He knows me and I know him. And I try to get myself to get over it, to feel it for someone else. Anyone else, but no matter how hard I try. I just… can’t feel it.” She shook her head, pushing herself off the island. “Sorry, I don’t know where that came from.” 

Jamie stayed still for a moment, figuring out his thoughts. 

“S’okay,” he finally responded. “I’m sorry you feel like that, you deserve to feel loved and wanted.”

Her eyes snapped back up to his, her cheeks turning red, spreading up to her ears. Jamie moved around to the other side of the island so he was right next to her, leaning against her side. She kept staring straight forward, her eyes turning shiny with unshed tears. 

“You said… there was one person,” he implored, pursing his lips into a duck shape. “One person who you felt something for.” 

She nodded, not speaking, brushing her eyes furiously. 

“Who… who is that person,” he asked. 

She let out a shaky laugh, cocking her head before looking up at him. 

“I think you know,” she replied quietly, sucking her bottom lip into her mouth. He looked at her, letting his hand slide down to intertwine with hers. Her breathing hitched and her chest started to heave. “Jamie, wait, please.” She stared at their entwined hands, scared that it was going to go away. “I can’t… I’m not like other girls. I can’t give you what you want, not right away, maybe not for a long time.” 

Jamie shook his head, moving his free hand up to touch her face. “I don’t want that, all I want is to make you feel loved. All I want is for you to feel how you deserve to feel. And I’m willing to wait however long it takes, and to do whatever it takes to make sure that you feel that love.”

“Oh, Jamie,” she gasped out, reaching up to touch his face too. They stood in the kitchen, the soft morning light dappling in through the windows, holding each other's faces. He looked between her lips and her eyes. “Jamie?”

“Yeah?”

“You can kiss me.”

His eyes were big and wanting as he looked at her. “Are you sure? Like really sure, like you aren’t just saying it to make me happy?” 

“No, Jamie, I want it.”

The words scarcely left her mouth when he cut her off, pressing his lips to hers. And there it was. She felt it. She felt that electricity that her friends had talked about. It rocked through her, stealing her breath away as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, his coming to creep up her back, lifting her up slightly. 

“Can you feel that, love?” he hummed, in between kisses. “Can you feel how much I love you?” 

“I can feel it,” she responded, pulling back to look up at him. “I can feel you.” 

[dombottom]

I sat running through what I was gonna say in my mind. I could feel my heart pounding in my chest. I had to end it. I was getting sloppy, I was an addict. I just had to stop. I heard my office door click as he unlocked it. He had keys (another bad decision). He walked in. Jesus. He was a walking renaissance painting. He was as volatile and temperamental as Caravaggio too. Years ago as when I’d started as his mentor pretty early on I knew I’d never be able to say no to him. The second he figured it out too, I was finished. He started peeling off his shirt without a word. I fought every urge to fall on my knees and worship him. “We need to talk, we can’t do this anymore. It’s not ok. I take full responsibility for it.” I said nervously. He turned his head, he stared at me with no expression. I’d known him long enough to know that look meant he was furious. He started taking slow steps toward me. A mountain lion locked on its prey. Temptation got the better of me and I started looking him up and down. The black hair, his the shining black eyes, the puckish features, his compact but strong build, all wrapped in his glowing olive skin. He truly was an angel, but then again, so was Lucifer. “Who the fuck do think you’re talking to?” he said angrily. Him being angry at me scared me while making my dick start to swell. “It’s not that I don’t love you, it’s just wrong. I never should have let it happen, people are going to say I’m a groomer or something, and I’ve got a hus—” he reared his arm back and slapped me full force. My fallen angel had a temper. It’s what landed him in my program to begin with. My cheek stung and my eye teared. I was instantly rock hard. “Please we can’t.” I begged. Something crossed his face, his eyes glittered with malice. “Okay. Fine, never again.” He said with a smirk. I felt the pit of my stomach drop. Hearing him say it hurt more than I thought it would. “Okay.” I replied trying to steel my nerves. He slowly started lifting his arm exposing his armpit. “Jesus Christ, please don’t do that.” I said. “What, are you worried? We’re not going to do anything. You want it to stop.” He said. My little devil. The scent hit me, he never wore deodorant or perfume. His natural scent was salty, earthy, and sweet. But his pits… he produced a potent and addictive musk. It’d been getting stronger by the year. Without question I was a slave to his scent. It hit me, all I could do was whimper. Standing an arm’s length away I could smell him, my eyes were rolling back. “It’s not that I don’t want to, I’m begging for us to stop,” I whined. “It’s weird because you said all that stupid shit, but I’m pretty sure what you were begging for was a little- sniff” he said. “Dante. Please. No. I really can’t it’s so wrong.” I said. “I stopped listening after Dante please,” he said. He quickly undid my pants, I didn’t try to stop him. My dick cartoonishly sprang out at full attention. I was done for. He grabbed it in his iron grip squeezing as hard as he could. I yelped and folded forward, he was waiting with his pit open, my face smashed right into the damp sweaty hair. “Don’t you EVER try a fucking stunt like this again!” He growled. I groaned unable to speak between the pain of his grip and the ecstasy of his scent. “SAY IT!” He yelled. “I’ll never do it again Dante-Dante-Dante please you’re hurting me.” I begged. He gave a final harder squeeze before he let go. I collapsed back into my chair. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry I got in my head I love you so much please baby I shouldn’t have said anything,” I said completely crumbling. The thought of being away from him made me want to burn the world. I’m sure he knew. He took off his pants and shoes, a concert of rich musky smells filled my office. He straddled me. I could feel the stickiness and heat as he started to push his hole down on me. His eyes staring somewhere deeper down than anyone could reach. “Oh my god, I fucking love you” I whispered. He gave me another slap. Followed by a kiss. He leaned in and whispered in my ear as he pushed all the way down, “That’s right…I am a god.”

[holylulusworld]

Friends only

Summary: You are more than friends.

Pairing: Fratboy!Dean Winchester x fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, language, unrequited feelings?, fluff, mentions of a blowjob

A/N: This story is part of my Fratboys collection

“Why don’t you want to give me advice for my date?” Dean puckers his lips. He batts his long eyelashes, trying to convince you to help him once again. “Sweetheart, don’t leave me hanging.”

“We are not friends,” you quip, and turn your attention back toward the books in front of you. “I’ve got no time to give you advice all the time. Ask one of your buddies.”

"We aren't friends?" He splutters. "Why? When did that happen? Since when are we, not friends anymore?"

“Forget it,” you wave Dean off. He doesn’t need to know that he broke your heart not ten minutes ago when he told you about his date with that hot girl he just met. “You have enough girls hanging on your every word. You don’t need me.”

“Y/N, tell me since when we are no friends? Last time  I checked we were friends and roommates!” Dean argues. He puts his hands on his hips and stares at you, waiting for you to answer his question.

You slam the book shut and get up from your seat to size Dean up.

“You really want to know?”

“Yes,” he throws his hands up. “What am I talking about the whole time? I want to know since when we are no friends anymore.”

"Since I know how your cum tastes on my tongue," You bite back. "You remember last week, right? When you came to me after a bad date, whining about how the girl only liked your good looks and car. That no one ever listens to you. I built you up again, and then, your cock ended up down my throat.”

“I remember,” he closes his eyes, remembering how your lips felt wrapped around his cock. His cheeks shades of red, and Dean looks down at you, guilt written all over his face. “I shouldn’t have let you suck me off to make me feel better.”

“For fucks sake Dean,” you throw your hands up too. “I sucked you off because I wanted to. I had hoped this means more than a blowjob to you.”

“I—what?” Dean licks his lips. “I don’t understand.”

“Sometimes you are so dull, Dean. That night, I wanted you to make me feel good too.” You shake your head. “But right after I made you cum down my throat, that girl called, and you slipped out of my mouth to take her call. Do you know how I felt?”

“I didn’t know you wanted more of Dean. I would’ve gone down on you, sweetheart. I came back, and wanted to return the favor,” he argues. “You said that you are tired and went straight to bed.”

“Because I felt like a cheap whore, Dean! God. Men can be so stupid and insensitive. If a girl gives you a blowjob, you don’t answer your damn phone after you came. And you for sure don’t talk to some other bitch, Dean.”

“Y/N…” He sighs as you give him an angry look. “I’m sorry. This was a serious case of miscommunication.”

“You don’t get it, Dean!” You sniffle. “Anytime you ask me for advice to get laid, I’m hurting. You don’t even realize how much you hurt me with your behavior.”

“Uh-this is not about sex…right?” He looks at you like a confused puppy. “Right?”

“No, Dean. This is not about sex,” you groan. “I want you to ask me out, not some random chick you just met. But you only ever pay attention to me when you need advice on how to get laid.”

“Oh…OH!” Dean nods slowly. “You want me to cuddle you after a blowjob?”

“Are you serious…” You throw your hands up again. “I give up.”

“Y/N,” he whispers lowly, “I was joking.” Dean steps closer to cup your cheek. “Do you want me to make sweet love to you?” He wiggles his eyebrows.

“I want you to make sweet love only to me,” you huff. “That’s what I want. I don’t want to be a one-night stand to you like all the other girls.”

“Sweetheart,” he brushes his lips over yours, “I’m sorry I didn’t realize you like me. Maybe we should talk about what to do now. I’d offer to go down on you, but I think it’s better to ask you out first.”

“Is everything a joke to you?” you sigh deeply. “This isn’t funny to me. I hate having feelings for someone who-”

Dean silences your rant with his lips. He cups the back of your head to keep you from breaking the kiss.

“I like you a lot, sweetheart. Let me prove to you that I can be more than a one-night stand to you too…”

[yujinnieswifeu]

Want to request a bini au but since you don't do those. A Wheein sub au will do 🥺🤙

pairings: dom!fem reader x needy sub!Wheein

warnings: smut, strap-on sex, Wheein calls reader mommy

a/n: Hi anonnn, this is actually the firstt and i mean FIRST Wheein au i ever did!! Really hope you like it even though it’s really short😭, it’s actually been awhile since i wrote mamamoo oneshots so hope this is up to expectations 😣, once again tq for requesting this~

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Wheein calls you for the 10 over times today, she has been so needy the entire day, pouting whenever she sees something that reminds her of you. You were at work, while Wheein was off and that was never good. You knew she was going to be a puppy wanting its owner the entire day, knowing the owner was at work. You told her to go out, but she would just whine into the phone, saying how much she wanted you to snuggle with her instead.

“Wheein, you know i can’t just go home when i’m having meetings the whole day.” You groan into the phone, resting your elbows on the desk as you had your forehead against your palms. “I miss you, please?” Her voice needy, and you can just imagine how she looked in that moment, it just makes you want to go home to her and hug her, but you knew better. “Be good, and i will reward you when i’m home hm?” You tried talking terms with her, now checking the time to see that you had only 5 more minutes before the next meeting, knowing you need to end the call soon to sit into the hour long meeting.

“I-it’s hard, everything here reminds me of you!” She whines out, and you let out a small huff, before telling her you need to end the call with her just whining some more into the phone, the call cuts by you as your assistant comes running into your office. “Ms. Y/l/n, they would be here any minute.” You just nod her way, thanking her with a slight smile before walking to the meeting room.

。。。

It has been 30 over minutes through the meeting and your phone starts to buzz. You looked to the others, quickly ending the call, but seeing that it was your girlfriend that called, feeling a tinge at your heartstrings. Could it be that important? You two agreed that if it was an emergency that she would be able to call you during meetings, but this meeting was really important to you.

Your phone starts to buzz again, and your heart race. Within seconds, you excused yourself, walking out of the meeting room to pick up the call. “Wheein? You’re scaring me, are you okay?” The panic in your voice makes Wheein feel bad, she didn’t mean to call you during your meeting, but she was really needy today. “M-mommy..i’m so wet..wan- ahh…want you so bad.” She was moaning into the phone, her thighs at the sides of the pillow that she has been humping as she takes a whiff of your scent from the shirt in her hands that you wore today.

You suddenly found yourself weak in the knees, muttering a ‘fuck’ as you hear how needy she was, her moans music to your ears, and you knew you had to be there now. “Fuck, stop what you’re doing and wait for mommy, unless you want to be punished.” It wasn’t a question anymore, more of a command as you end the call, only to go back into the meeting room to let the others know you had something urgent to attend to, quickly making your way home to your needy girlfriend.

。。。

When you opened the door to your shared bedroom, that was where you saw her, all cuddled up with your shirt in her hand, sniffing your scent as she has her legs wrapped around your pillows. She was trying to be so good for you, the way her hips would stutter a little when she tries to hold herself back from touching herself, whimpering your name. “You were such a good girl, obeying my orders..” Wheein quickly gasp, just realising you were standing at the door way, her cheeks were flushed red, eyes blown with lust as she dropped the shirt she was holding onto the floor.

“M-mommy, i’m sorry, i know i shouldn’t have called you…but i really wa-.”

“Shh…on all fours now.”

。。。

“Wai- ahh..! Mommy i-it hurts!” Wheein cries out as you thrust the plastic toy inside of her faster, your hand around her neck as you brought her to your front. “Take it like a big girl.” You say lowly against her ear, breathing hotly against the back of her ear. She finds herself cumming for the countless time today, now finally seeing the trouble she has gotten herself into.

After all, this was just the start for you. 😈

[haihaihaitani]

Bad Boy/Good Girl ~ *Keisuke Baji*

Summary: Everyone assumes Keisuke is a bad boy, with his motorcycle and leather jacket. But little do they know, it's the opposite in your relationship...

Pairing: Keisuke Baji X G/N!Reader

Genre: Fluffy Oneshot

Word Count: 1261

Warning: N/A

Masterlist

A/N: This is actually garbage.

The unmistakable roar of a motorcycle could be heard throughout the campus parking lot. However everyone knew exactly who it was without having to look. Even if they did have to look to see who was here, there was no mistaking that signature black leather jacket, slicked back black hair and captivating eyes that could make any girl swoon. But Keisuke didn’t want to make just any girl swoon. He only had eyes on one girl in particular.

After entering the campus parking lot, he perched on his bike, watching with mild curiosity at the people coming in and out of the building before him. He was currently waiting for a certain person to leave said building. Of course, no one around here knew that. This was the first time he was ever seen on the university campus, much less the Communications Department building, so everyone who was meandering about automatically assumed he was up to no good.

The reason for his visit to this university came soon enough, with a scowl on her face as she marched over to him. Immediately, Keisuke perked up at the sight of her, standing up quickly as the pleasant look on his face turned into a frown. She didn’t say anything, just leaned her head against his chest and sighed dramatically.

“What’s wrong?” He mumbled, his deep voice reverberating against the top of her head. In her position, she couldn’t see the light blush on his cheeks. He didn’t really like PDA as it usually left him flustered, but he didn’t have the heart to tell her to get off of him.

“I hate tests.”

“Did you get your final score back already?” Her audible wince told him all that he needed to know about how it went. He instantly wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into a warm embrace. Yeah, so much for Keisuke not liking PDA. “It’s okay, baby. I'm sure you did your best! And I know if I was taking that class, you would've scored higher than me!”

“No, it’s not okay, but it's whatever.” She sighed, standing up straighter. “I suppose I just wasn’t meant to have a good life.”

It was his turn to scowl at her words, holding her at an arm’s length away so that he could scold her properly. “Don’t say that! You have me, you know! Am I really that bad that you think your life isn't good just because I'm in it?”

She burst out laughing at his reaction before lightly punching him in the shoulder. “It was just a joke, Kei, baby! Man, you should have seen the look on your face! You looked so terrified! I know I shouldn’t laugh but you’re so funny, baby! Seriously! I’m going to die, you’re so funny!”

“I didn’t think it was all that funny, babe.” Keisuke grumbled, looking away from her and trying not to get too upset with her laughter.

Pressing a soft kiss to his cheek, she giggled at his dark blush. “Don’t look so glum, Kei. It’s Friday and you know what that means. It’s the weekend and you promised to take me to the movies this weekend! So let’s get going! I don’t want to miss anything!”

He nodded. “You’re right, I did promise you. But I don’t know if I want to take you anymore.”

She started to pout. “Why not?”

“Because you were making fun of me!” Keisuke whined with a teasing smile.

Chuckling, she pressed a couple more kisses to his cheeks. “I’m sorry, Kei, baby. I didn’t mean to laugh so hard at you. You know I love you right?”

“Yeah, I know.” He mumbled before clearing his throat, trying to get rid of his embarrassment. “Alright, I guess we can go now."

She was about to climb onto his motorcycle when he lifted up his helmet to her, making her groan. “Aww, c’mon! Do I have to? I trust you to be a safe driver!”

“Y/n, I’m just trying to protect you, like a good boyfriend. I don’t want you getting hurt! You’re too special to me.”

Scrunching up her nose, she replied. “You’re too protective of me, Kei! And you're so damn cheesy! It’s almost sickening how cute you are. And you’re always saying you don’t like being cute when you’re the epitome of adorable!”

Keisuke blushed darker before muttering, “Please, everyone knows you’re the cute one in the relationship. I’m the big, scary, bad boy. You’ve heard what people have said about me. I’m always up to no good and all of that.”

“Oh, a bad boy! Is that what you are?” She loudly laughed at his words. “Says the man who always makes me wear a helmet when we go riding on his bike because he’s afraid of me getting hurt when we both know I won’t. Says the man who always calls me his precious baby. Says the man who bought me this sweater because he was afraid I’d get too cold this fall and didn’t want me to get sick!”

“But,” Keisuke attempted to argue with her, “I thought you liked being called my precious baby? Also you look really pretty in that color and I really don’t want you to get sick! Then I have to take care of you and we both know you shouldn’t be missing any more classes than you already do.”

She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “You know, I could always return this sweater and get a different boyfriend, one who understands me better.”

Pouting some more, Keisuke sniffed, not looking at you. “Y/n, don’t make me sad.”

“I was just kidding again.” She teased, patting his cheek gently before letting her hand trail down his neck and rubbing his arm. She bit her lip as her imagination went wild. “You know, if you’re such a “bad boy”, I say you get some more tattoos to prove it. A sleeve would look really nice. I could even help you pick some out and I have a cousin who can do them for a reduced charge.”

He rolled his eyes with a scoff. “We’re not having this conversation again, babe.”

Leaning in, she whispered seductively in his ear, “But it would be super hot.” 

“Y/n!” Keisuke squeaked, his breath hitching in his throat.

Laughing at his bright red blush, she climbed onto his bike. “C’mon! Let’s go! The movie I want to see starts in fifteen minutes and I don’t want to miss it!”

He held up the helmet again, before saying, “Helmet on or we’re not going anywhere.”

She took it begrudgingly, grumbling under her breath. As she snapped it into place, she mumbled. “You’re lucky I look good in this.”

“You always look adorable, my precious baby.” Keisuke cooed with a smirk before getting on his bike as well. He felt his heart flutter when she wrapped her arms around him. He quickly started it up and revved the engine because he knew how much she liked it.

Giggling, she shouted over the engine, “Floor it, Kei, baby! I love the feeling of the wind through my hair, even if it is covered by this ridiculous helmet.”

“No way. I don’t want you falling off or getting hurt, babe.”

With a smirk, she leaned in closer, her lips brushing his ear again, making him shiver. “I guess I’ll just have to hold on to you tighter.”

Right before they took off, he muttered, “And they say I’m the bad boy. Leave it to me to fall for a bad girl.”

[42spideys]

— good dog

you don’t need to use your brain, you don’t need to do anything but listen to the only person that matters. leon s. kennedy.

warnings: m.reader, dead dove, yandere! leon, dark content, reader literally doesn’t know how to think without leon helping, abuse, mentions of scars, leon is loving towards reader, mentions of whipping, i might continue this later on but im not sure

enjoy (ㅅ´ ˘ `) !!

leon has had you to himself for months now and he’s so happy about it, he loves having you around. he’s so proud about how well you have adapted to your new home, he hated hurting you like that but you just kept fighting him….so he had to teach you how to be good.

“l-leon! let me go! why are you doing this!?” you screamed, thrashing around in your binding on the cold floor of leon’s basement. you couldn’t read leon’s face at all and it scared you, he stole you from your own home and kept you in his basement. why? what did you do wrong? was he mad? did he hate you? was he going to kill you? these thoughts brought you to tears, you started sobbing profusely while begging leon to let you go.

“shh shh….don’t cry angel. if you keep fighting me i’ll have to hurt you, i don’t want to hurt you baby.” his voice had a dark sense of sympathy, he took you into arms and started rocking back and forth. you thought this was a great attempt to escaped, the only thing that he bothered to tie were your arms. you nuzzled his arm and peppered it with light kisses, he smiled softly thinking you have finally listened to him. he felt a sharp pain in his arm and let out a scream, you bit him. you bit him? are you fucking crazy?

you desperately tried to run up the stairs screaming, trying to get anyone’s attention, you were didn’t know how it happened. your head stung, it burned, your vision was blurry. you saw leon standing above you and his stare was dark, he was breathing heavily in dangerous excitement. he crouched down and grabbed you by your hair, he pulled you close to his face and spat on you.

“bad dog. are you that fucking stupid?” you whined at his words, they were so cruel. you shouldn’t want him to praise you, you need to leave, you need to escape. you tried to pull away from him which was meat with a harsh smack to the face, you cried out in pain. “m’sorry! please no more…i-i promise i-i’ll listen i’m sorry..” you cried trying to convince him you were serious, you didn’t want to be hit anymore. leon looked at you for a moment before smiling, the smile made you feel safe for a moment…. he leaned towards your ears.

“fucking liar. i’ll beat it into your head that you are just a fucking dog, and bad dogs get punished.”

-

now look at you, you’re being such a good dog for leon! you have graduated from basement to doggy bed right next to leon, instead of not eating at all you get delicious food and snacks in your pretty dog bowl, no more hitting, no more whipping you until you bleed, no more choking till you pass out. you’re a good dog now! so you get spoiled all the time, like a good dog.

“puppy, come here please.” he hears the quick jingle of your pretty leash and collar coming towards him, it makes him smile to himself. you crawl to him with a dazed look in your eyes, ever since you the first couple of weeks of him teaching you to be a good dog you now don’t know how to function without him. you nuzzled his leg im admiration, you melted into him when he started to rub your head.

leon was the only thing that you could think of, leon was your perfect owner! he gave you everything now, belly rubs, kisses, good scratches, cuddles, everything. you just had to be good for him, that’s was it, that was all. if you were a good boy you god a happy leon, if you were a bad boy you had to stay in the basement for a month.

“such a good puppy, you’re all mine yeah?” you let out a soft noise of approval “you only think of me, right pup?” you let out another noise of approval “should i kiss you? do you think that you deserve it, pup?” you say upright and nodded frantically while letting out pathetic whimpers, he smiled at your reaction and leaned down but stopped right before your face.

“i love you, pup.”

[carnalhaus]

american tradition: forge of the cyclops

subscribe to the substack here.

It was rare that Sledge ever knew what he was crying about. He kept a mental checklist when he was sober enough. Enid’s red hair was growing back in. The cat rubbed on his leg. He realized he didn’t know how to braid. Now is one of those rare times where his pupils are the size they’re supposed to be, not too big or too small. Praline made a habit of checking. Speaking of which, there she was. 

The two of them are on the floor of the kitchen. That’s to say, the kitchenette of the single-wide trailer they holed up in after the previous owner died. They shouldn’t have made a habit of it, but they did. Finding obituaries is getting pretty easy nowadays, thanks to the internet. The overhead light flickers, but they’re lucky the lights are still on in this place at all. They’re all very lucky people, because Sledge is lucky his crying isn’t waking up the whole damn house. 

This time, he’s crying about guilt. He makes sure to catalogue that while he cries. That ugly thing that eats at his heart once a month, whenever the lights turn low and the girls count sheep. Truth be told, he’s the only one who thinks about those years anymore. Praline is always too busy asking what’s for dinner, and Enid only cares about sneaking the smokes from his jean pockets. They whine and laugh just like they always did, kicking the back of his seat in the car and flinging food at him while Stat goes to grab another beer. The world has moved on without him, and he’s still there, bowing and scraping in the mud for forgiveness. 

Most people say you should feel guilty for the rest of your life. Some people say it’s more selfish to keep groveling after you’re already forgiven.

Maso-fucking-chistic. 

Sledge is doing some stupid babbling like usual when he cries. Same old wash and rinse of ‘I love you and I’m sorry’ that went on for an hour at a time every full moon. Praline was never very savvy on human connection, so her face is contorted into an angry frown, the closest thing to sadness and concern she can muster. She looks pissed, even through the blur of his tears. The dull acrylics digging into his shoulders aren’t helping much. 

She presses her forehead to his, clumsy and rough like she’s trying to give him a concussion, and through his tears she’s now a cyclops. Two eyes fashioned into one big watery mirror. He can barely see his reflection, the curve of his sunken cheekbones blacked out in ink. The untamed hair on the nape of his neck is tangled in her fist, holding him there like she’s got a handle on some mustang’s mane. And just like one, he’s wild and afraid. Whale-eyed. 

“I am the only thing you care about,” she says it like a mantra, and in a way it’s true. “So quit it. Quit killing yourself because you think I should be doing it for you. You are so self-fucking-righteous.” 

It feels like she’s talking him off a ledge. He knows better than anyone else that a curse from her mouth is a beg and a plead. Gone and did it again, he did. Spooked so bad she’s trying to tug on his lead rope and control his head. That’s all she knows how to do. Control, control, control. Praline’s scared, even if she wont admit it. She’s holding her breath.

His hand can’t reach her neck to feel her pulse and he’s not sure he wants it to. He doesn’t want to risk scraping her collarbone or her shoulder, those were the worst parts. The ones he had the worst memories of having to hold so hard he thought they’d crumble. So he reaches up to feel it on her wrist, wrapping around the bones and feeling over the veins. Touching her feels too similar to pulling apart a warm rotisserie chicken. Really, it does. Bones and all. That’s why he always hated it, ever since he met her. He has to hold back some bile.

“Screw your head back on,” she says. It’s through her teeth, eyes wide, and her head presses harder into his. Sledge is gonna have a headache later, whether it’s from all the crying or Praline trying to give him the iron claw. He can’t blame her. He’s being fucking annoying and being rough is all she knows. He counts the beats from her radial artery, blood rushing in his ears to drown everything else out. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, zero, zero, nine, nine, zero, nine, nine, zero, nine, nine.

“I’m screwed,” he finally chokes out. Dumb, but he says it, and he finally gasps in a shaky breath. For a second, she doesn’t believe him. Nobody really would. But that pressure eases off his cranium and her claws snake out of his hair. He’s breathing alright, a little hiccup here and there, but it usually doesn’t get any better than that anyway. Praline sits back on her knees, and Sledge stays hunched over with awkward limbs like some marionette. Feels like he just got punched in the nose, pain radiating from his forehead down to his eye sockets. 

It’s only now that he sees the flakes of mascara under her eyes, the kind that said it was waterproof on the package when she picked it up. No longer a cyclops, just some girl sitting with him on the linoleum. She’s got her Betty Boop pajama pants on, seam busted at the thigh, inseams too short on her ankles, and it makes him wanna cry even harder seeing her look like such a kid. Sledge keeps a loose hand on her wrist and she lets him, holding her arm out like she’s waiting for an IV. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, zero, zero, nine, nine, zero, nine, nine, zero, nine, nine. 

“Don’t do that no more,” and her voice is a little more wobbly this time when she speaks to him. “I hate when you do that, when you go and cry. I don’t know what to do, Sledge.”

“You don’t have to do anything,” is the first thing that tumbles out of his mouth in a while, instinctual and pathetic. Sounded like the little bleat of a lamb, it did. Praline doesn’t like that answer, so her eyes harden up and she cocks her head into his line of vision. 

“You don’t have to do anything,” she repeats. The way she throws his words back in his face is probably the nicest slap she’ll ever give him, and it makes him choke out a little sob. “But you’re still here anyway, cause you don’t know when to fuckin’ quit, n’ maybe I don’t either.”

They go quiet after that. Not much else to say, and neither of them were ever very book smart. Lini got held back cause she couldn’t read a damn thing when she was real little. A few sniffles fill the prolonged silence, and he’s not sure how much time passes. Praline’s dull nails run over his forearm. Not gentle, not soothing, just tracing over the sharp curves of his tattoo like a toddler cutting with safety scissors. Bored and unpracticed. The time for being sentimental has passed. She scrunches up her nose and tugs at a few blonde arm hairs, and Sledge thinks it’s the Cain instinct when he wants to hit her in the jaw. Eventually he settles for smacking her hand away, and she does the same damn thing. Couple of idiots they were, always acting like they grew up in a chicken coop together. 

“Ice cream?” Is all Praline says. Sledge has to blink at her like an idiot a few times before it clicks in his brain. That’s what he always asks her about when she gets upset. Ever since her and Enid were younger, he’d always ask about some stupid ice cream when they’d cry, like it would fix everything. Maybe it did, if she’s asking now. 

They only had a half eaten pint, so she put a scoop each into two pebbled plastic cups they stole from a diner, and topped it off with some coke. A little warm still, they only popped the cans in the fridge an hour ago. Sledge took up residency on the couch and he watched her the whole time, cooing about how sweet she was and trying not cry again. He tells her she’s so fancy-schmancy making a coke float for him and she tells him to shut up cuz it’s gonna foam up if she can’t concentrate.

When she joins him on the couch, he puts his legs in her lap and she locks them in with her elbows. It’s times like these where he doesn’t feel like the oldest kid. Praline isn’t sixteen anymore. There’s no baby fat cushioning her sharp cheekbones, and she hasn’t gotten that stubborn pimple on her chin in years. But when he looks at her too long, he still sees a kid breaking her ankles in her mom’s clubbing heels.  Clumsy and unpracticed, like a baby deer learning how to walk. He’d seen her walk miles in those stupid shoes, though. Maybe she was getting older. 

Coke floats damn good. Not quite rootbeer, but this is how they did it in the good ol’ days. That’s what his father always said. Floats came from Philly, in his humble home state of Pennsylvania. He didn’t know what the hell his dad was talking about half the time with that Philly bullshit, cause he was from Pittsburgh. It’s dead quiet, and this is the point where he starts feeling embarrassed. How old is he now? Thirty, almost? But Praline doesn’t look twice at him. Doesn’t curl her lip or shrug him off. She’s too focused on licking the ice cream foam off her top lip. Speaking of which, she drank that thing quick. She burps and he knees her in the ribs, just enough to make her hit him on the shin. Like always, she gives him that laugh, something between a giggle and a snort. 

That bunny smile she gives him is refreshing, and it gives him the courage to crack one too. Endorphins were finally hitting, better than any heroin he tried. Usually that euphoria just ended with vomiting on her shirt. 

“Your face is gon’ get all puffed in the morning from bawling your damn eyes out,” she starts, and she’s already swinging his legs off of her lap to go scramble over to the freezer again. “Gotta ice it.”

Sledge doubts it’ll help, cause nothing she tries ever really does. But he lets her, and he can’t help but scrunch his face up and squeal a little from how cold it is. Like a girl, she says, and he tells her to stop being mean. That only does so much, cause then she drops the rest of the ice cube down the front of his shirt.

[carryingthebannershitposts]

Some Hard Promises Angst

So I was sitting in bed minding my own business thinking "So what if Jack had more left of his brother than just a photograph?" and it led to this.... well, whatever this written hell counts as. Enjoy the shitshow.

(Also haha enjoy the play on the Hard Promises title in here)

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

“Hey, kiddo! Look who I got back!”

The young boy in front of Jack smiled… or, Jack could only assume he had. He could only hear the boy’s voice. He didn’t want to look- he knew what he’d see if he did. He’d had this nightmare before. Instead he looked at anything else- the small stuffed horse in his hands, the walls, the cheaply made wooden furniture and the locked doors and barred windows. The edges of the scene were fuzzy, like a dream, but just nostalgic enough in some sick way to make his skin crawl. He hated how he felt for this place, for the people in it- and for the people who never made it out. The dull walls of the refuge that surrounded him, stained in blood that realistically shouldn’t be there, both comforted and tortured him. He didn’t look down, even as the kid begged him. 

“Francis!”

Jack felt sick. He hated that name. He hated the person who it belonged to.

“Francis, you got him back!”

“I know… I know, Michael.” Jack forced a smile. He hated Francis Sullivan, and his life, and his name, and his family. But he couldn’t bring himself to hate his little brother. What kind of a big brother would that make him?

“Will you keep him safe for me? So Snyder doesn’t take him again?” 

“S-Sure. I will.”

“Do you promise?”

Jack didn’t want to. After what happened, it was a hard promise to make, even if he’d technically made it in real life before the accident. But he sighed. “I promise.”

Jack had to shut his eyes tight when Michael hugged him. He smelled the blood. He felt it on his clothes. He remembered every detail of what happened to his brother. But that didn’t mean he wanted to see it again. He never wanted to see it again.

“Francis, why aren’t you looking at me?” Michael whined.

“Stop.” Jack begged.

“Francis, come on!”

“No!” Jack yelled, opening his eyes. 

-

“JACK?!” 

Jack sat up, breathing so heavily his chest hurt, instinctually smacking the arm off of his shoulder that was shaking him. 

“Jack?! Ow- I- Are you okay?”

“Crutchie?” Jack shook his head, running his hand through his hair. “I- I’m fine… what time’s it?”

“It’s really early, I’m sorry! You were crying in your sleep-”

“I wasn’t.” Jack sighed. “We’ve been over this. I just have allergies, remember?”

“Okay… just- are you sure you don’t want-”

“I’m fine, Crutchie.” Jack snapped. He hated how cold he sounded. How scared he was. He wanted to talk about it, he did. But he didn't want to be a burden to Crutchie. What kind of a big brother would that make him?

“Alright… Goodnight, Jack.” Crutchie said quietly, a hint of coldness in his own tone. Jack supposed he deserved it, even though it hurt. 

“Night.” He responded half-heartedly. 

Once Crutchie was gone, Jack cautiously pulled a loose brick out of the wall, and retrieved a small stuffed horse from inside it. He turned it over in his hands, looking it over. It was far from perfect anymore, it was all dusty with rips and tears, and blood stained over what used to be the white muzzle. It was trash, really, but Jack couldn’t bring himself to put it away.

He promised he’d keep it safe, and he wasn't about to break that promise. Not the last promise he'd ever made to Michael- what kind of a big brother would that make him?

- 

Jack marched into the lodging house shamefully, flanked by cops and Pulitzer’s workers, avoiding the gazes of all the boys who used to be his brothers. He didn’t want to come back here himself, he’d begged for someone else to do it, to retrieve his things for him so he wouldn’t have to face everyone. But for some sick reason Pulitzer had insisted he go himself.

“How can we be sure you have all your… belongings, if you don’t go yourself?” The voice still rang in Jack’s ear, mocking and taking pleasure in what clearly was Jack’s pain. 

Jack didn’t care about his clothes or his bedding. He hardly cared about the money he’d left. There were only two things he really came for. But when he reached inside the wall, he felt sick to his stomach.

The first thing he felt was toy stuffing. 

Fighting a rising panic within him, he pulled out the remnants of what was once a small stuffed horse, now in nothing but a few sorry shreds and a head separated from the body. Nobody in the lodging house knew why he cried that day, nor why he even had it in the first place- to them it was just a meaningless stuffed horse, one that happened to get caught in the crossfire of their anger when they searched for the photograph of Jack’s family.

To them, it meant nothing.

But to Jack? It meant the world. He felt worthless, useless... he just wanted to shut his eyes and cry. But he didn't even feel like he deserved to do that, not in front of everyone. For all he'd done, after Michael and now Crutchie and Race and the rest of the boys, it just now hit him that he'd failed as a big brother.

He’d broken his promise.

[fandomfluffandfuck]

not sure what to qualify this as, but I read the following in "getting where your face won't spoil the view" by notlucy and it's been stuck in my brain ever since

(tw for like implied cannibalism/vore I think?)

they were initially talking about rimming but then bucky went too stupid (affectionate)

“Steve…”

“Eat you out for days.” He fists a hand in Bucky’s hair, yanking his head back and exposing the column of his throat. Grinning, he goes in for a bite, sucking the rough, stubbled skin. “You need a shave.”

“Eat… me… “

It’s not an insult—he’s too spacey to be witty—but the way he says it makes Steve laugh all the same, and he kisses his jaw, his neck, the space beneath his ear. “Yeah, eat you up. Inside and out. Cut off pieces of you, just for me.” Bucky licks his lips; Steve takes advantage of an open mouth and shoves his thumb in, forcing Bucky’s tongue down, gratified when he gags. “You want that, Buck?”

A frantic nod, head moving as much as it’s able. God, he’s pretty like this.

do you have any thoughts like this about them?? idk if it falls under primal but it just scratches my brain well and I'd love to hear your thoughts on it some!!

ps. I don't like it in a gore way, more like the concept of consumption itself, on a brain sense more than the body? * insert Steve Kemp's speech about eating/consuming/being consumed being a form of love * I really don't know if this ask makes any sense anymore lmao thanks for reading this

"getting where your face won't spoil the view" by notlucy

I FUCKING LOVE THAT SERIES AND LET ME SAY--

Another line/idea from that series that makes me feral that's also, if you think realistically, very graphic is:

“What’d I say about moving, genius?” he growls, jerking his arm higher and oh, Jesus, Steve’s strong, he’s so strong and he could break the bone if he wanted to, but Bucky doesn’t want him to, doesn’t think he would, except that he could, and probably that’s the point. “I didn’t—ow, fuck, I’m sorry, but…” “No buts. No excuses. Next time I’ll nail your hand to the wall. Got me?” Bucky shivers and whines, caught between pure fantasy and harsh reality as he gasps out, “please don’t do that…” “No?” Steve’s grip tightens on his wrist, the pain a bright spark. “Why shouldn’t I? Because you’re in charge?” “Shouldn’t…” He drinks in a lungful of air, desperate and yowling, both loving and hating the threat. “Not… shouldn’t. You can but please don’t because I’m sorry and I’m…” “That’s right. I could. But I won’t. Because I believe in second chances.”

That excerpt is from "those clinging vines that had me bound, well i don't need them" by notlucy

I have many asks I need to get to, and I try to go in order of when they were sent in, but... maybe it's just my barely disguised teeth fetish talking (or maybe it's the vague religious undertone, nailing a hand to a cross that gets me, oops)... I could not resist this one.

All credit for inspiration goes to notlucy. This particular AU of Steve and Bucky, I am not claiming as mine! I'm just writing a general, darker d/s stucky pairing.

Content warning for non-gore, non-graphic mentions of dismemberment, death, etc. I promise it's not as dark as it sounds?? I don't know. This just came out of me 💀💀

"E-eat me," Bucky whimpers, voice strung out and pathetic.

"Yeah, yeah, I know, sweetheart," Steve teases him, just the right amount of bite to his words as he prowls circles around Bucky's strung up, helpless form.

Bucky's wrists are encircled by thick, padded cuffs. Attached via chain to the anchor points in the ceiling, his arms are held straight up above his body. Not too unforgiving, not too relaxed. Meanwhile, Bucky's legs are forced embarrassingly wide by a spreader bar at his ankles, attached via matching, snug ankle cuffs. He's not going anywhere. All he can do to squirm is shiver.

Helpless.

Just like Steve likes him.

He grins meanly, "you're so desperate for me."

Bucky whimpers in agreement, running out of words as he gets deeper and deeper into subspace. The expression on his face is stupid. Slack and empty-eyed. So precious.

"You just want to be in my mouth," Steve's upper lip curls up as he says it, almost snarling the words out.

Bucky's head lulls back between his shoulders, collared throat fully exposed, crumbling under his words, his voice, his promises. Wanting it just as badly as Steve is claiming he does. Slut.

Steve grabs his throat, standing in front of him, big and imposing, "you just wanna serve me, huh?" He shakes him around. Just a little. Enough to make him choke and sputter, glowing red under the attention. "Give into your higher purpose, yeah? Yeah. I know, sweetheart, you can't hide it, you want me to take little pieces of you, keep you close, so all I have to is reach over when I'm starting to feel hungry and..." Steve rakes his nails down his sides, unkind, "get a little piece of you to satisfy my appetite. More and more until there's nothing left."

"Hhuh, please!" Bucky keens.

His dick is so hard, jutting up obvious and obscene and wet between his trembling, lithe thighs. He already must've been on fire before Steve grated him with his nails, but as a result of the treatment... he burns hotter. His flesh turns even more pink. Red. Stained from his hairline, all down his face, neck, and chest, to his heaving stomach. The shape of his ribcage expanding and contracting, gleaming with sweat, as he struggles to breathe is fuckin' poetry in motion.

Steve bites down a groan, barely resisting taking the moment to himself to jerk off or to stand behind Bucky and fuck up into his exposed backside. Maybe not even his hole. Bucky is for him, after all. He could fuck his thighs instead. Deny him everything, but the glide of his throbbing, hard dick between those sweet thighs.

Jesus.

"You're so inspiring, baby," Steve waltzes behind him, dragging his nails across the canvas of his skin as if he wants to paint a masterpiece. All desire and lust. Art. "The way you cry and writhe," he lets out a hungry sound, "God, I don't know if I wouldn't be able to resist and I would eat you up right away, devour you like the starving man I am, or if I would have to drag it out and savor the taste, the thrill, because you beg and squirm and cry so prettily. Dinner and a show. How about that?" Steve chuckles, slapping his side hard enough to leave a handprint.

"God! G-AH!"

Steve cuts his second adorable little wail right in half, with a few equally had slaps to his ass. More handprints. One on each cheek, then a few overlapping prints. More claims. Like a brand on a prized piece of cattle.

And, huh, isn't that a thought?

Maybe he'll bend Bucky over, put him in a stockade so he can't go anywhere, and carve his initials into him. SGR. Maybe he'll make a custom brand, heat it, and listen to him squeal and cry as it sizzles. SGR. Although...

His Ma did always tell him not to play with his food before eating.

Glossing over that delicous idea, for now, Steve pinches Bucky right where it hurts, if his chest rattling sob is anything to go by. Yet, he conversationally speaks over his struggles, "what if I strung you up, tied you up all pretty, and just took little bites out of my new piece of artwork?"

Bucky makes a wordless caterwaul that sounds like assent. Or please. He's squirming, he's crying, and he's enjoying himself. It's hard to tell. Completely incoherent.

"Or, maybe I decide to bring over some friends and show off my catch, hm?" Catch. As if Bucky is some kind of game--fish, deer, elk--and Steve the hunter. "I know their mouths would water just looking at you. You look so delicious. Tender and juicy, huh?" Steve gropes his pointedly tender (from the spanks) ass, unashamed and filthy.

"AH!" Bucky keens.

"Don't worry, though, sweetheart," Steve smoothly purrs, "you're all mine." He bares his teeth. Wolfish.

"St-Steeve," Bucky whimpers. Cute.

"Mine. I'd never let them have a taste," he grabs him hard. His hips. He wants to leave fingerprint bruises behind. "They'll just have to hunger from afar. Admiring all the marks in you--chunks taken out by my teeth." Steve bites his shoulder, smelling his dark musk. He's sweating badly. Glistening. Beautiful. Steve licks his lips and goes on, "aaaall these marks because I couldn't help but steal bites while waiting for them to show. You're irresistible, sweetheart," he inhales deeply, as if he's wafting a fine wine, taking in the notes. "Want you so bad. I want you in me. All of you. 'M gonna eat you."

"Eat me!" Bucky begs, pathetic, mouth open and lips trembling.

"Yeah, yeah," Steve encourages, his mouth is split in such a wide grin that his face aches. He can't stop, though. "You're gonna be begging for it right up until you're swallowed whole, aren't you? You just can't help yourself," Steve pulls his head up just to grab at his chin and pinch his sweet dimpled chin. Shaking his head around. He looks so silly. Yet, Steve really does want to eat him. He makes him so hungry. "You want it so bad."

"Y's!" Bucky slurs, crying out.

Steve licks up his tears, swallows, then licks his teeth and shuts his eyes as he makes a humming sound like he's a delectable dessert. Like he's never tasted anything sweeter.

He hasn't.

God.

"After I'm done with you," Steve whispers harshly, "I'm never gonna forget it." He bites at Bucky's jaw, moaning despite himself because poor Bucky is completely limp. His head is up because Steve's holding it that way. "I'll taste you on my tongue forever. And I'm gonna tell everyone about it."

Bucky moans hoarsely, and he swoons in bonds. Feet giving from under him. Falling onto Steve's solid chest.

Steve chuckles, pleased, but pushes him back to standing, lips to Bucky's ear, "'m gonna say how there was this adorable, sweet sub that wanted me so bad he cried and begged and plead until I just ate him up like the big, bad wolf."

Bucky whimpers, a tiny, desperate sound.

"My sweet little bunny..." Steve licks his tongue up Bucky's throat, over his Adam's apple as he swallows, broad and hot, "I'm gonna tell them about how stupid you went whenever I sunk my teeth into your neck." He does it now. Bucky shakes, silently screaming. "And they're gonna stare at my teeth and know. They'll know how sweet you were. Too bad I had you all to myself."

Bucky can't speak. He can't stop shaking. He just stays there limp, whining, crying, wanting. The want rolls off of him in waves. Steve's going to devour him. Mouth on his throat, sucking bruises and leaving behind teeth indents, and hand tight around his cock. It doesn't even take him three strokes before he's giving in. Cumming right in Steve's palm. Steve licks it all up. His mess. Every part of Bucky is delicious and demands to be savored.

P.S. I have a playlist specifically themed around teeth that I was unashamedly blasting as I wrote this 😏 (and yes, I have a problem. I just like teeth, okay?)