#is that how disciplined he is towards his work and training

[estebunny]

How do you mentally prepare for a race?

via JAAQ interview

"To prepare mentally for a race. What is very important to me is the routine is how I go into all the certain details, the preparation, it's very important for me to feel good arriving to a race, to know I have done everything that I had to do in terms of physical preparation, in terms of mental preparation, in terms of preparation with the car, with engineers. There is a very important balance to have between my work on myself that I'm doing at my training centre every day when we are in between races and the work that I do at the factory like we are in today, that's a very difficult mix to have because when I'm doing the work with the engineers, I can't do the work on myself, but I have a very important schedule that I put on myself and I say, okay, this day I'm doing this, this, that, and then I can prepare with the engineers for the car and everything else. And yeah, I think we found a happy balance. And I think for everyone it's important to find a happy balance in where you put the effort and when you find that happy balance, which is hard to do, then you feel good."

[ramp-it-up]

Bolder

Summary: Bucky and Steve's relationship is practically perfect in any way. And then Bucky wishes for what would make it complete for his birthday. Happy Birthday Bucky Barnes!

Word count: 5.6 K

Pairing: Stucky x Enhanced!Reader (Sparrow)

A/N: This is another dream inspired by #BuckyBarnesBirthdayBingo by @avengers-assemble-bingo. This fulfills the square: Another Year Older, Another Year Bolder. Althought I've written mfm before, I've not written Stucky. Let me know how I did. 😬 Please reblog, comment, and like!

Another note: This is canon divergent in the events of Endgame, Steve returns from replacing the Infinity Stones, but he still gives Sam the shield.

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. Read at your own risk. Smut! Bucky and Steve. That should be the entire warning, but it's not. Grumpy Steve and, cock blocker Sam. Poly sex acts, angst, emoting, wild thoughts, a birthday wish, which leads to birthday sex. Birthday sex: Captain and Sargeant kink, fingering, voyeurism, nipple play, oral (female receiving), raw p in v, two sex acts simultaneously (not dp) cock denial, creampie, squirting. I wish I could say this was a one shot, but... well, let me know if you want another part.

I do not have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘

I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

-----

The way Bucky pushed back against Steve’s command and control, subtly at times, outrageously at others, was a sight to witness.

The order and restraint that defined the former Captain America trembled in Bucky’s presence.

And Steve made Bucky come alive, fully awake for the first time in years. 

Steve belonged to Bucky and Bucky to Steve, for almost a century, even when he couldn’t remember his own name. After all they’d been through, they finally had the time and space to proclaim and celebrate their love.

They were the most beautiful couple you’d ever seen. 

When you first joined the team, you were starstruck not because they were some of the most famous Avengers, the hero and the villain, but because they were sun and moon, yin and yang, and seemed utterly perfect and complete in their relationship.

They were nice to you, respectful and curious, as you were the most like them. But you were so very different. You’d wanted to serve your country as a volunteer for a 20 week trial of the serum, the effects of which you were assured would be reversed.

Turned out, the people doing the assuring were HYDRA in disguise.

Now, here you were, another supersoldier and newbie on the team, and that caused them to drift toward you naturally. Skittish at first, you warmed up to them and became the third musketeer, training, working together, and hanging out.  

Your code name was Sparrow, because you were small yet fierce, which Steve admired, and handy with sharp implements, which made Bucky smile, which was a feat.

With this team, you third wheeling became a running joke. Although you didn’t admit that you would jump at the chance, you could handle the ribbing, mainly because you thought you were in no danger of having your deepest fantasies fulfilled. 

Of course it was a joke, because what would they need with you?

It was a question you were beginning to ask more in the past few months. It had almost been a year since you joined the Avengers and everyone was comfortable with you now.

Especially Bucky and Steve. 

As time progressed, way they acted with you was more than familiar and you began to feel something…else in the way they interacted with you.

When he looked at you, Steve’s gaze was steady, with heat simmering just beneath it. You admired the way he shared command of the team with Sam easily, his restrained and disciplined demeanor the default until he was pushed.

And so you did it, because you wanted to see that control crack for you like it did with Bucky. 

You disobeyed Steve on a routine mission, but the actions you took put you in slightly more danger than was planned. Steve snapped and chewed you out so thoroughly that you were wet for the entire seven minutes that he lectured you on protocol. It was a thorough dressing down, and it made you want to get undressed for him.

After, he retreated to the other side of the room, looking at you like he was considering all the ways he could break you apart and put you back together. You stared back at him, silently daring him to.

He would have bent you over the desk if Sam hadn’t told him to give you a break. He stalked out and you wanted to follow him and submit to anything he wanted, but Sam followed him instead.

Bucky didn’t hold back that day either. His hunger was blatant, carved into the smirk that tugged at his lips, in the way he leaned just a little too close, testing, demanding.

His voice dropped when he spoke to you, low and rough, thick with the promise of something dark and dangerous. 

“What you did wasn’t too smart, Sparrow. You shouldn’t put yourself in danger like that. Better be careful, before Steve takes it out on your ass.”

Bucky devoured you with those sharp and knowing eyes, like he already knew how you’d sound when you moaned his name and how you’d feel beneath his hands.

“Something tells me that you wouldn’t mind that…”

Sam came back into the room and cocked blocked yet again. This time you escaped the situation. 

After that, you were caught in a storm of tension so thick it was dizzying. You knew what Bucky and Steve were to each other, two halves of something unbreakable that was forged through war and loss and survival. 

And yet, somehow, they’d turned their attention on you.

The heat between you was filled with unspoken promises that these two men would destroy you in the most exquisite ways. 

And God help you, you wanted them to.

—-

Bucky’s birthday rolled around not too long after that, a crisp March day bright with newfound sunlight and celebration.

Steve had apologized to you and you to him, yet there was something unfinished there. He still held you at arms length.

Nevertheless, you were able to have a fun day celebrating your “old man,” as you joked about Bucky. Steve’s eyes flashed and Bucky’s jaw clenched when you said it. 

And when you kissed him on the cheek after wishing him happy birthday, Steve’s cock hardened when he noticed the way Bucky’s fingers twitched on your lower back.

Bucky had never been one for birthdays. For too many years, they were just another mark on a calendar he didn’t remember, a reminder of how much time had slipped through his fingers like sand.

But now, things were different. Bucky was bolder now.

The older Bucky got, the more he leaned into asking for what he wanted. And for what he needed.

Because of that newfound boldness, now he had Steve.

And this year, he had you.

Was that right?

Maybe he should’ve questioned the way you had slipped into their lives like you were always meant to be there, and the way his body recognized your presence before his mind did.

But it was all so obvious.

He noticed it in the way Steve looked at you, that quiet hunger he tried to reign in but never quite managed to. He felt it in himself, in the way his pulse jumped when you laughed, in the way his fingers twitched with the need to touch you. It was also in the way his stomach tightened whenever you looked straight through him into his essence.

Only Steve had been able to do that before. 

And Steve was lost, too. His eyes followed you when you walked out of a room, like he was waiting for the moment you'd return. 

Strangely Bucky wasn’t jealous, but at first he was alarmed when he noticed the way you looked at both him and Steve. Like you were just waiting for one of them to finally say it out loud.

But then he realized that he just needed to ask for what he wanted. For what he and Steve both needed.

So Bucky did.

It was 2 AM of the morning after night of his birthday, the three of you the last hangers on in the living room of their apartment. Each time you made to leave, one of them drew you into another conversation.

Finally, Steve lit the match.

He asked Bucky what he wished for when he blew out his candles.

Bucky didn’t even hesitate because he wasn’t good at pretending. Never had been.

"I wished for Sparrow to join us," he said simply, leaning back against the couch, watching as Steve processed his words.

Neither you, nor Steve, had to question what he meant. The meaning was painfully clear.

Steve’s blue eyes flickered with something unreadable. His jaw tightened as his fingers flexed against his thigh. Bucky could tell he was already overthinking, probably considering a dozen different ways this could go wrong. 

That was just the way Steve was, always careful, always considerate. Even to the point of denying himself.

But Bucky knew Steve wanted this too.

Across from them, you stilled. Then, slowly, like you wanted them to see, you tilted your head and uncrossed your legs in your short skirt, just to cross them again, the smooth slide of your thighs against each other made Bucky’s mouth go dry and Steve’s pulse race.

A smirk played at the edge of your lips, but your eyes gave you away. There was curiosity there, something that said you’ve thought about this too.

Bucky pretended to be cool even as tension and heat coiled tight in his gut. 

"It’s my birthday. And I figured—why not make it interesting?"

Steve exhaled sharply, rubbing a hand through his golden hair, his ears tinged red. Bucky knew that look. 

He had seen it in battle, right before Steve made a decision that would change everything. 

He’d seen it in private, right before Steve begged for his cock.

Steve’s gaze flickered to you, then back at Bucky, then at you again. He and Bucky had built something solid between them, something unshakable, but he couldn't deny there was a certain pull whenever you were around.

The tension, the glances, the way you fit so seamlessly into their lives. It was heady.

You sat watching the scene, eyes flickering between them with interest.

"You don't have to say yes," Bucky said, giving Steve an easy out. 

But he smirked anyway, because deep down, he already knew what the answer would be. Steve was flustered, Bucky could tell, but not upset. 

No, this was something else.

"You’ve been thinking about this for a while, haven’t you?" you asked Bucky, your voice smooth, teasing.

"Sweetheart, you have no idea," Bucky chuckled.

You gasped as if those words alone sent a jolt through you. Then you hummed trying to remain calm as you tapped a finger against your knee, eyes flickering toward Steve. 

"And you, Captain?"

Steve’s breath hitched just slightly as he gazed at you. Small, but Bucky caught it.

And when Steve’s gaze landed back on him, slow and deliberate, Bucky felt it. That heat. That unspoken understanding. 

Bucky saw it happen in real time, the shift in Steve’s expression, the way his pupils blew wide, the way his fingers twitched like he was fighting the urge to reach for you right now.

Steve smiled and his voice was a low rasp when he finally spoke.

"Happy birthday, Buck."

Bucky grinned.

—

The second Steve said it, the air in the room changed.

You didn’t move right away, just watched them, your breath just a little uneven. Bucky could feel your body heat, close enough to touch. Close enough to ruin.

He’d imagined this. Countless times. 

What it would be like to have you here, caught between him and Steve, wanting them.

But reality was so much better.

Bucky reached out first, metal fingers around your wrist, pulling you up and forward until you landed on his lap with a soft gasp. His other hand found your waist, grinding you against him. Your body was warm, soft, and pliant in all the ways he had dreamed about.

"You sure about this, sweetheart?" he murmured against your ear, his lips just barely brushing the sensitive skin there. 

His voice was rough and hungry.

You shivered in his grip. 

"I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t."

Bucky let out a low chuckle, his grip tightening. 

"Good."

Behind you, Steve shifted, so close Bucky could feel the desire radiating off him. When he spoke, his voice was thick.

"You look good like this," Steve murmured, and when you turned your head slightly to look at him, Bucky caught the way Steve's face changed to a look of pure lust.

Fuck.

Bucky had always known Steve wanted you, just as much as he did. He’d seen it in the way Steve watched you, in the way he tried to be respectful, to keep a distance, even though everything in him wanted to close it.

Not anymore. He was going to help Bucky thoroughly defile you.

Bucky leaned in, pressing his lips just beneath your jaw, smirking when he felt your pulse racing beneath his lips.

"You gonna let us take care of you, Sparrow?" he rasped. "Since it is my birthday, after all."

Your breath was uneven, but you didn’t hesitate. You turned slightly in his lap, your fingers reaching up to fist in Steve’s shirt, tugging him closer.

"Yes. I want you both to take care of me tonight.”

With those words, the space between all three of you disappeared in an instant. Bucky felt your body press against his, your breath warm against his neck, and it took everything in him not to lose himself right then and there. 

He wanted to take his time. He wanted to feel this, wanted to drag it out until you were breathless, until Steve’s control cracked, until all three of you were left trembling in the aftermath.

Steve’s lips hovered just above yours, his breath uneven. Bucky watched, enthralled, as you stared up at him, eyes dark and half-lidded.

"You absolutely certain about this?" Steve asked, voice low and thick with something deeper than just desire.

You reached up, moving your fingers around the back of his neck, pulling him down until your lips brushed his. 

"Never been more certain of anything."

Steve groaned softly, capturing your lips in a slow, hungry kiss. Bucky exhaled sharply, his grip on your waist tightening as he felt you melt between them.

Holy shit, this was happening.

Watching you kiss Steve, watching the way his hands skimmed over your sides and the way your body responded, Bucky swore he could feel it in his own skin.

When you finally pulled away, your breath hitched, and your lips were swollen as your eyes flickered toward Bucky. He smirked, tilting his head slightly, fingers grazing your jaw before he leaned in, capturing your lips with his own.

While Steve’s kiss had been slow and languid, Bucky’s was something else entirely.

Possessive. Starved.

You let out a soft sound against his mouth, your fingers tightening in his shirt as he deepened the kiss, his metal hand trailing up your spine, cold against the heat of your skin. You shivered, arching just slightly, and hell, that was enough to drive him crazy.

Behind you, Steve let out a low chuckle, pressing closer, his lips grazing your collarbone. 

"Didn’t think you’d be the greedy one, Buck," he murmured, amused.

Bucky smirked against your lips. 

"Oh, I know how to share." 

His blue eyes flickered between both of you, dark and full of promise. 

"Especially when it’s something this good."

Your breath came in shallow pants, eyes flickering between them, heat pooling between the three of you, thick enough to drown in.

Steve’s fingers traced the curve of your jaw, tilting your face back toward him, his lips barely ghosting over yours as he whispered, “You sure you can handle us both, Sweetheart?”

His voice was teasing, but beneath it was reverence, like he needed to be sure before he let himself fall. This was the fourth time they’d asked for your consent.

They were really about to ruin you.

“Guess we’re about to find out,” you murmured.

A soft, delighted hum rumbled in Steve’s chest behind you. Bucky caught the way your body shivered at the sensation of the warmth of Steve pressed against your back and at the weight of Bucky in front of you. 

Sandwiched between them, you fit perfectly, like you had always belonged here, like this was inevitable.

“We should take our time with this,” Steve murmured against the skin of your neck.

“Make sure she knows exactly what she’s gotten herself into.”

Bucky smirked, sliding his metal hand up your spine, relishing the way you arched into his touch. 

“That sounds like a plan, Stevie.”

The way they were talking about you as if you weren’t there served to make you wetter than you already were. You wanted to be used by them for their pleasure.

For yours. 

The two men looked at each other in a silent exchange that didn’t need words. It had always been that way between them. Decades of understanding built through war, through loss, and through finding each other over and over again despite the odds. 

But this?

This was new.

Sharing something, someone, this intimately wasn’t just about lust. 

It was trust. It was knowing Steve would move when Bucky moved, and that Steve would read him the way he always had. It was knowing that they could balance each other, even in this.

And you were centered in it, the tether between them, the unspoken possibility they had both been too afraid to touch until now.

Bucky slid his hand to the back of your neck, guiding your lips back to his. He kissed you slowly and deeply, savoring the way you melted into him, the way you rolled yourself over him. 

The sound of your soft sigh sent heat curling in his stomach, and just as he deepened it, Steve’s hand slid over your hips, grinding you down harder on Bucky’s lap.

“Fuck, you feel s’good, Bucky”

You were already lust drunk, the thought that you would have them both electrifying your body. And your mind.

“Think she likes this,” Steve mused, fingers teasing at the hem of your shirt.

“What do you think, Buck?”

Bucky pulled back just enough to look at you, his blue eyes dark, searching. You were breathless, caught between them, pupils blown wide.

“Oh, she loves this,” he murmured, dragging his metal fingers down your spine again, watching the way you arched your back, feeling the heat pool between your legs.

Steve hummed in approval, his grip on your shirt turned to pulling it up and over your head. Bucky’s eyes widened at the fact that you didn’t have on a bra. Well, he’d guessed at it earlier as his eyes took in your body, but seeing you in the flesh, and in his face made his blood heat. 

When Steve grabbed your tits and, softly at first, then more urgently pulled and rolled your nipples, Bucky licked his lips and glanced over your shoulder before he leaned down and sucked you through Steve’s fingers. 

You threw your head back on Steve’s chest as you rode Bucky’s straining jeans covered cock.

Oh, this was heaven.

“Open your eyes, Sparrow.” 

You hadn’t even realized you’d closed them. You opened your eyes as Bucky’s hands went to your thighs and spread you wider against him. The move bunched your skirt high up around your hips, leaving you with only your panties covering you. 

Steve watched as Bucky pulled your dress higher yet and then palm your pussy through your panties. He reached down and together, the two men tore your panties and tossed them aside like they were made of tissue paper.

“She’s so wet, Stevie. Wet and…” 

Bucky slid his hand to your pussy and pushed two fingers into you.

“…Tight. Holy fuck she’s going to feel so good.” 

You rocked your hips to take his fingers deeper, but he gripped you with his metal hand, forcing you still.

“"M gonna fuck you first since it's my birthday. But should we show Steve what he’s missing?” 

Bucky’s touch, while authoritative and demanding, was nothing less than reverent. And Steve’s gaze was on you as much as it was on Bucky. 

You made a noise that must have been enough for Bucky, because he turned you around on his lap as Steve backed up for a better view. Bucky palmed and finger fucked you for Steve’s benefit.

And yours.

You moaned and squirmed in his clutch, while the only reaction from the blond was a tightening in Steve’s jaw and his blue eyes going molten steel. Bucky laughed softly. 

“I’ll tell you a secret, Sparrow. I’ve never met a man with better control than Steve. It’s downright supernatural. It’ll take a better show than this to get him over back over here to put his hands all over you.” 

He nipped your earlobe. 

“If you make it very, very good, I’ll even let him use his mouth.” 

There wasn’t enough air in the room. There couldn’t be. Your breath hitched in your lungs, and it took you two tries to force words out. 

“What–what if I want his cock?” 

This time, Bucky’s laughter filled the room. He sat up, taking you with him, and positioned you with your legs on either side of his thighs. 

“Tell her, Stevie.” 

The other man crossed his arms across his broad chest, his features cold. Why did that turn you on so much?

“After what you did on that last mission, you have to earn my cock, Sparrow.” 

His arrogance should have been a turnoff. It should have made you want to put him in his place and make him earn access to you. Instead, a part of you that you just met whispered in your brain.

I want to earn your cock, Steve. Just tell me what I need to do. 

You slammed your mouth shut hard enough that your teeth clicked to avoid giving voice to those thoughts. You took a breath, and then another, then leaned back against Bucky more firmly. 

“Then let me play with you, Sargeant.” 

Bucky didn’t laugh again. You were a team now, testing Steve’s restraint. He let you stand and guided you out of your clothes.  A few seconds later, his shirt joined the growing pile, then he sat you back down on him again. 

The shock of his bare skin against your own drew a small moan rom your lips. There wasn’t a soft spot on his body, and he caged you with his chest and arms, one flesh and one metal, holding you open for Steve’s perusal. 

You twisted to offer him your mouth, needing to taste him again, and Bucky didn’t hesitate to give in to your unspoken request. His tongue tangled with yours, and he cupped your bare breasts and pinched your nipples to aching peaks. Bucky spread his thighs, forcing yours wider.

You felt Steve’s gaze all over you: On the curve of your neck. Following the path of Bucky’s hands. Centering where your pussy was exposed.

You felt it as if he’d reached out and touched you. 

Or maybe it was Bucky responsible for those sensations. It was too much and not enough and you whimpered against his mouth. 

“Stop teasing and touch me.” 

You grabbed his hand and pressed it between your spread thighs. 

“Please, Bucky. I’m gonna die if you don’t make me cum..” 

“Can’t have that, can we Stevie?” 

He looked him in the eye as he drew your wetness up around your clit with a single finger and circled the sensitive bundle of nerves, easily finding the motion that made your entire body go tight and hot. You opened your eyes and met Steve’s gaze as your orgasm spiraled closer and closer. 

A challenge rolled around your brain.

I’ll get what I want, and you’ll have to watch while it happens, knowing you could have been a part of it.

Bucky, damn him, seemed to know exactly you were thinking. He slowed his pace, dragging it out. You whimpered.

“You see how he looks at you? He’s seconds away from stalking over here, smacking my hand away, and licking that pretty pussy until he takes your orgasm for himself.” 

You made that soft whimpering sound again. The whole situation was overwhelming your senses, dragging you into a place where every part of you centered around these two men. 

“Please!” 

You didn’t know what you were pleading for. An orgasm. Bucky. Steve. All three. 

“I’ll make you a deal, Sparrow,” Bucky murmured in your ear, his finger never stopping its slow circles that seemed designed to keep you on the edge but never take you over it. 

“I’ll let you choose this time. Who do you want to gift this orgasm to?” 

“Both!” 

The answer tore itself from your lips, too honest for your own good. Steve grinned. His white teeth flashed and his eyes lit up with amusement, the whole effect knocking him from just handsome to downright dangerous. 

Oh God, what have I gotten myself into, you thought. 

Bucky kissed the back of your neck.

“Good girl.” 

He slid his hand away from you cunt as you grunted in displeasure.

“Stop playing and get over here, Steve. We’ve got to take care of our girl.”

Steve walked toward you and stopped to tip up your face, dragging his thumb over your bottom lip.

“This mouth was made for one thing.” 

You caught his thumb between your teeth and bit him, just hard enough to get his attention. You felt off-center and floaty and needy, but you weren't weak. 

You lifted your chin at the same time you looked at the bulge in his pants.

“Then do something about it.” 

There it was again. The heat radiating off of Steve that made you sure he wanted to ruin you. You shifted, but Bucky held you, caged and spread by your thighs and your elbows behind you.

You rocked your ass back against his cock, desperate for him to lose control the same way you were on the verge of doing. 

Steve just stood there, staring down at you with his mouth quirked in a smile. He released your mouth and shook his head.

“You haven’t earned my cock and you damn well know it.” 

He kneeled and braced his hands on Bucky’s legs. His knuckles dragged along your inner thighs, close enough to where you wanted him that you felt his heat near your clit

Steve leaned towards your face, his dark eyes intent, and you braced for another kiss. 

But he didn’t kiss you. He dragged his rough cheek against yours, and you twisted as best you could to watch him take Bucky’s mouth. 

You stared in shock as they kissed right next to you.

No, calling it a kiss was too mundane.

Steve and Bucky came together like two titans clashing, like opposing forces of nature, where one had to submit or they would destroy each other. Bucky shifted his grip on your elbows to one hand and used his free hand to tangle his fingers in Steve’s hair. 

He disconnected the kiss, and Steve groaned softly. You felt it as intensely as if it had come from your own throat. Bucky raked his teeth over Steve’s bottom lip as they parted, his blue eyes darker than they’d been before. He ran his thumb over Steve’s bruised mouth, mirroring what Steve had done to you. 

“You give her your cock when I say you do. Not before.” 

Through some unspoken agreement, they reversed positions. Bucky released your arms and Steve caught your wrists in a single hand before you had a chance to fully appreciate your freedom. He dropped onto the couch with you sprawled on his lap. 

You huffed out a breath. 

“I can move on my own, you know.” 

“We like moving you.” 

Bucky knelt between your and Steve’s spread thighs. 

“And you like being moved by us.”

He looked up at you and whatever smartass comment you were thinking of disappeared into thin air.

 “Wider, Stevie. I want to see all of her.” 

Steve responded, spreading his thighs and parting your legs further. Bucky ran his thumbs up the dip where your thigh met your pussy, exploring, his expression intense as if committing every bit of you to memory. 

He glanced at Steve, and that was all the other man needed to guide your hands down to the couch on either side of his hips. 

“Don’t move.” 

Steve spoke softly in your ear, as if too much volume would break through the spell Bucky wove around you three with his touch. Steve released you and you realized that he wanted his hands free, too. 

Lust made your head spin. 

You nodded, “Okay.” 

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see the quirk of his lips. 

“Good girl.” 

Steve ran his hands up your stomach and cupped your breasts as Bucky dipped his head and dragged his tongue up your center. Your body went hot and cold, tight and unfurled, all at the same time.

You gripped the edge of the couch cushions with everything you had and bit your lip hard. It was only when Steve nudged you back to lean fully against his chest that you realized you were frozen in a half sit-up, waiting for Bucky’s next move.

The man between your thighs chuckled, the sound vibrating across your skin to your clit. 

“Let Steve watch, Sparrow.” 

Steve moved your thick hair to the side with one hand and dragged his mouth along the line of your shoulder up to your neck. His beard prickled against your skin, which only made the smooth slide of Bucky’s tongue even more intoxicating. 

Your brain couldn’t handle the onslaught of sensation. 

Bucky’s hands gripped your thighs as his mouth worked your pussy. Steve played with your nipples as he sucked on the pulse point in your neck. A sound came out of your mouth that you’d never heard before, a keening cry that was more animal than human. 

“There you are,” Steve murmured.

Bucky speared into you with two fingers, and then a third, spreading you almost painfully, the sensation completely at odds with the way he sucked your clit. He met your gaze and then looked over your shoulder, and you knew he and Steve were watching each other as Bucky ate your pussy. 

The realization sent you hurtling into an orgasm that blanked what few thoughts you had left in your head and bowed your back sharply enough that you would have fallen off Steve’s lap if both men hadn’t held you down. 

“Oh shit, oh shit, oh my god, oh shit.” 

You were just saying words as you experienced the feelings.

Bucky brought you down gently, giving your clit one last thorough suck and shifted to ever-widening circles as your pulses slowed down. He nipped your thigh and sat back on his heels. 

“We’ve barely gotten started.” 

You blinked at him. 

“I don’t know if I can survive more.” 

“You can take it.” 

This from Steve. He reached down and cupped your pussy, his fingers huge and causing you to dream of his cock.

“Change your mind yet, Sparrow?”

“Is that a trick question?”

They had gotten you off harder than you’d gotten off… well, ever. You weren’t about to stop now.

“I want this.”

Bucky didn’t take his gaze from your face as he unbuttoned his jeans and underwear and replied, “Good.”

You weren’t as polite. You stared at his cock.

Holy shit, you thought.

You’d known he was big, but he wasn’t just big, he was big.

“Oh fuck,” was what you said aloud.

“That’s the idea.”

Steve lifted you and turned you around as Bucky caught your hips. You ended up with your hands on the back of the couch on either side of Steve’s head, your legs wide on the outside of his thighs as you were bent over, tits very nearly in his face. 

You looked from his beautiful eyes down to his jeans, to where his large cock was straining against the heavy material. You licked your lips, but Steve used a single finger to tilt your chin back up.

“Not. Yet.”

Bucky stroked his metal hand down your spine and gripped your hip as he lined up at your entrance and you tensed, thinking he would slam home in one thrust.

Or maybe you were hoping.

Instead, he held you tightly so that you couldn’t throw it back on him, and teased you, one delicious inch at a time. 

“More, Bucky, moreeeee…”

You were desperate.

Steve shut you up with his mouth, his tongue twisting over yours as Bucky shoved into you to the hilt. Steve cut the kiss off prematurely, then sat back with a smirk as Bucky started fucking you.

“Oh. My. GOD!”

Bucky drove into you again and again, making you sob. He felt so fucking good. Pleasure spiraled through you, and you didn’t know if it was Bucky’s cock, or the way Steve was watching, or both, but you were so close so soon.

Bucky stilled, buried deep, then leaned over and braced his hand on the back of the couch, caging you in with his chest to your back. 

Steve moved, sliding down to sit on the floor.

“What are you…? Oh fuck…”

The words choked out of you as Steve captured your hips, his and Bucky’s hands entertwining around you, and then his mouth was on you.

“OH GODDDDD.”

“Not God, Sparrow, Steve.” 

Bucky started moving again slowly, and you weren’t able to do anything but take what they were doing to you.

Steve was relentless, and there was nothing restrained in the way his mouth moved over your pussy. He tongued your clit even as Bucky fucked you, and their hands clasped you so hard, that you were sure there would be bruises later.

The thought brought you closer to the brink.

You were gripping the couch so hard that your knuckles went white, and the wood inside was cracking from your strength.

The sight of Steve's golden head between your thighs, of knowing exactly how close it was to Bucky’s cock sent you speeding toward the edge.

Bucky seemed to read your mind. 

“Another time, and it would be a stroke for your pussy and one for his mouth,” he chuckled as he palmed your breast and rolled your nipple.

“You’d like that.”

“Yes!” you gasped.

Like didn’t even begin to describe how that image made you feel. And when Bucky’s fingers laced through Steve’s hair, holding him to your clit, it was too much. You could only imagine what Steve was doing to Bucky as well as you. And the image tipped you over the cliff.

Your orgasm buckled your knees and it was Steve and Bucky that kept you on your feet. They held you in place as Bucky kept fucking you, his strokes becoming wilder.

How could one person endure this much pleasure?

The pressure built until you couldn’t hold it any more and then the pleasure caused you to release, squirting all over Steve and all of you melted into a puddle on top of him.

You were speechless, as both Bucky and Steve soothed you with their hands, and words that were meaningless murmurs because of the blood rushing in your ears.

There was no mistaking that this wasn’t over yet. And that you didn’t want it to be.

Bucky stood up, and lifted you in his arms, looking at you for a minute as Steve started down the hallway ahead of you, stripping off his clothes.

You heard the shower start as Bucky murmured.

“Been one hell of a birthday so far. Stay with us tonight?”

“Yes,” you managed to whisper as Bucky claimed your lips again.

“Happy Birthday Bucky Barnes.”

——

Let me know if you liked it! 🥰

[squipa]

the silver lining’s i’ll be there with you

aka hcs about jason, your loyal knight

———

knight!jason who spent years training, honing his abilities and fine tuning every sense so he could be the finest soldier in gotham’s army. he was a weapon, strong and disciplined, a hero in every battle. such intense dedication was why he was personally assigned with the position of your personal knight by the king.

knight!jason who had to fight to remember everything he had worked towards when he laid eyes on you. he was a warrior, forged in fire and steel. but around you? he couldn’t focus. your delicate form, your beauty, your ethereal glow. you who smiled at him like he was a man and not a soldier, who was kind and trusting and spoke to him so freely it made his heart flutter. you, who saw him as a friend, rather than a weapon. he had never been in love, nor had he imagined himself capable of it. he hadn’t realized how easy it had been for you to melt away his hard-shell exterior until you had already wormed your way into his heart.

knight!jason who had no idea how to react to his overwhelming feelings for you. despite your constant proximity to him, his heart couldn’t help but flutter whenever you looked to him with those bright, kind eyes. he couldn’t help the pink that dusted his cheeks (hence why he kept his helmet on as often as you would let him) when you would wipe the sleep from your eyes and ask him to hold you close and protect you from the nightmares that plagued your mind each night. he couldn’t help but turn into a flustered, babbling mess whenever he tried to speak to you, any eloquence he had gone out the window in the days he spent watching over you.

knight!jason who slowly became your best friend. who would stay up late into the night to speak with you, answering any questions you would ask him, for how could he deny you? he’d make sure to stay awake long after you fell asleep, watching over you like you were the most precious thing in the world (to him, you were).

knight!jason who had to conceal his rage when it was announced you were to be betrothed to some beastly prince. he couldn’t let you see how he shook in anger, the last thing he wanted was to frighten you. you did your best to conceal your sorrow, putting on a brave face and spewing nonsense about your duty, but jason heart broke with yours. you shouldn’t be burdened with such a fate, it killed him to see you suffer. he cursed his position, for how could a princess, a woman of such divinity and grace, ever love him back?

knight!jason who wiped your tears, who held you close, and who leaned in for a kiss that never seemed to end, one of such passion and fervor he knew he had found his true love. “i may not offer you title or wealth. i may not offer you stability, or power, or any of the luxuries i wish i could give you. perhaps i am not the man that you deserve. but all i am is my love for you, it burns in my heart and consumes my very being. i may only offer you my affections, true and eternal, and the promise that in my arms you will always be safe and adored.”

knight!jason who sweeps you off of your feet, assures you that you won’t have to worry about a thing, “i’ll take care of everything, my love.” he takes you in the night, holding you against his chest as you ride out of the kingdom on horseback. you settle in a village, and you are no longer a princess and he is no longer a knight, but a man and a woman in love.

———

i’ve been working on a bigger fic but i wanted to keep y’all fed… i wrote this extremely sleep deprived and burnt out </3 not my best work but i hope y’all enjoy!!

[aventurineswife]

Hiii I’d like something comfy and cozy: Reader holed up in their room, working and falling asleep at their desk, and then being found and carried to bed by uhhhhh maybe Jing Yuan, Welt, Feixiao and/or Phainon? Any one of them, or multiple if you want. Can be platonic or romantic, I won’t mind! Thanks~ 💖

Safe in Gentle Arms

Tags: Jing Yuan x Reader, Feixiao x Reader, Welt x Reader, Phainon x Reader, Fluff, Comfort & Care, Soft Moments, Carrying to Bed, Can be read as Romantically or Platonically, Sleepy/Exhausted Reader, Protective, Caring.

Warnings: Mild Mentions of Overworking (Reader is exhausted from working too much), Physical Contact (Being carried, hair ruffling, etc.), Mild Possessiveness in Phainon’s Fic (Protectiveness bordering on desperation), Some Characters Tease the Reader.

Jing Yuan was no stranger to naps—he had mastered the art of taking them at the perfect moments. But seeing you passed out at your desk, head resting on an open scroll, made him sigh. The flickering lanterns cast a warm glow over the piles of documents you had been working on, and the ink-stained fingertips resting near your cheek told him just how much effort you had put in.

He approached quietly, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. "You push yourself too hard," he murmured, voice laced with fondness.

Carefully, he scooped you up, your weight settling easily against his chest. Even in sleep, you curled slightly against him, seeking warmth. He chuckled under his breath as he carried you through the dimly lit halls, the soft rustle of his cape the only sound accompanying his footsteps.

As he laid you on the bed and pulled a blanket over you, he allowed himself a rare moment of indulgence—his fingers grazing over your forehead as he brushed your hair back. "You should learn from me," he mused. "A well-timed nap does wonders."

You stirred slightly but didn't wake. Satisfied, he leaned against the nearby chair, arms crossed as he settled in. Someone had to make sure you stayed resting, after all.

Welt sighed as he stepped into your quarters aboard the Astral Express. The soft hum of the train filled the air, but what caught his attention was the stack of half-finished sketches, notes, and reports scattered around your desk.

And there you were—fast asleep in the middle of it all, your cheek resting against a sketchbook, your glasses (if you wear them) slipping down your nose. He took a moment to observe you, his usual stern expression softening.

"You really don’t know when to stop," he muttered, shaking his head.

With practiced care, he lifted you into his arms, making sure not to wake you. You shifted slightly, letting out a sleepy sigh as you tucked yourself against his shoulder. Welt adjusted his grip and made his way toward your bed, his own exhaustion momentarily forgotten.

Once you were tucked in, he placed your fallen glasses on the nightstand and glanced at your desk. With a resigned sigh, he began stacking your papers neatly, making sure nothing would be lost in the morning.

Before he left, he murmured, "Next time, let someone remind you to rest, alright?"

And though you couldn’t respond, he hoped you’d take the advice to heart.

Feixiao prided herself on discipline, but even she could appreciate a bit of indulgence—especially when it came to you. Finding you slumped over your desk, completely passed out amidst a sea of reports, she let out an exasperated sigh.

“Really? Again?” she muttered, but there was no true annoyance in her voice, only concern.

She bent down and easily scooped you up, her strength making it effortless. Your head lolled against her shoulder, and she could feel your warm breath against her collarbone. A rare, soft smile tugged at her lips.

“You’re lucky I like you,” she whispered, carrying you to your bed with a gentleness that few got to see from her.

After settling you in, she tugged the blankets up to your chin and, without thinking, reached out to ruffle your hair. You stirred slightly but didn’t wake, instead mumbling something incoherent. Feixiao snorted.

"Fine, fine, I won’t tease you too much about this tomorrow," she said, leaning back against the wall.

But she didn't leave just yet. Not until she was sure you'd stay asleep.

Phainon found you in the same state he often found himself in—hunched over, exhaustion winning over determination. The flickering candle beside you barely illuminated the half-written notes under your hand, your breathing slow and steady.

He knelt beside your chair, carefully observing your peaceful expression. "You’re too dedicated for your own good," he murmured, though admiration tinged his voice.

Without hesitation, he lifted you into his arms, his grip steady yet gentle. Even asleep, you instinctively curled into his warmth, trusting him completely. The realization made his chest tighten in an unfamiliar way.

As he laid you down, he lingered for a moment, brushing his knuckles lightly against your temple. "You fight hard, but even warriors need rest," he whispered.

Before leaving, he adjusted the blanket around you and blew out the candle, ensuring that, for tonight, at least, you’d rest properly.

[meowrimo]

˖˙ ꔫ — MAN OF DISCIPLINE ˚

꒰ synopsis : After a little persuading, Zoro let's you tie him up. But testing a tiger's patience will only get you so far...

꒰ content : MDNI. zoro roronoa x bratty!reader ; rope play, oral sex (m!receiving), lots of teasing, brief pussy job, use of 'pretty girl' once, just filth honestly. — WC : 2k

The elaborate pull of twine seals in Zoro’s fate as sandswept rope glides along his tanned torso, looping around his shoulders to tie his arms behind his back. Fastened with a knot that only a seasoned sailor could pull off, you let your hands run over your masterpiece. 

Torturously, your lips glide down his torso, ghosting against his skin before your tongue twirls around his nipple. He groans lowly, tensing as you lightly suck on it. 

You don't linger there long, giving him just enough to want more before you nestle down between his toned thighs. With a quick glance, you gaze up at him with an innocence that betrays every other sinful action you’ve taken thus far.

“This is stupid.” Zoro's chiseled jaw clenches, feeling more vulnerable than he's ever felt before. Laid out on the bed, unable to move his hands, and completely bare – all too ripe for the taking. It’s a position he’d never envisioned being in but with one curl of your lip and that challenging glint in your eye, he found himself yielding to your little game, fully equipped with a stubbornness that demands he win it.

Each ripple of his muscles strains for relief, a call for power that leaves his hands itching to wield the familiar grasp of your plush skin but instead, he’s met with the loneliness of air. It’s a true testament of how much he’s holding back right now. Never before has Zoro sat back and let you take the reins in your sex life; he would always be the one to end up in control, and neither of you complained.

Before now.

The memory of how he ended up in such a predicament taunts him almost as much as your curious hand does as it slides down to where he’s painfully hard for you. Silently, he curses himself for goading the shitty cook that his self control towards women was one of his strengths, looking down at the chef like he was less for caving to a woman’s touch so easily.

It sparked a new idea in your head, the perfect kiss of rebellion against the act that he committed, one that would not go unpunished. You were going to prove that when it comes down to it, Zoro gives in to you just as much as Sanji gives in to any woman, if not worse.

“Want to back out? It's alright if you can’t take it.” The look you give him is almost laughable — eyes blown superficially wide and full of faux concern, your lip twitching slightly downward to create the pout that always drew him into your carefully construed traps. Your fingers dance along his length, fleeting touches of pleasure that melts away before he has a chance to savor it.

Flames of desire lick at Zoro’s gut, and he can’t help but settle deeper into his burning pride as it demands that he shows you he can handle whatever you throw at him. The room grew hotter, his nerves working overtime as they tried not to fray at the seams, willfully tearing them down to grow stronger like fractured muscles fibers cording back together.

It was just another form of his training.

“Just get it over with,” Zoro huffs out, cheeks dusted pink as he tries to keep his gaze set on you. The blush only spreads further down his twitching torso as your touch grows more purposeful, his heavy chest heaving in a glowy dew of perspiration.

“With pleasure.” 

Gently, your hand wraps around his base, your hot breath teasingly fanning against the sensitive skin and eliciting chills all throughout his body. His thigh tenses, and the familiar sound of strained rope graces your ear as he squirms above you.

With a quick glance up, you notice that Zoro tries to maintain his aloof persona, a stoic mask that veils the hidden truths he carries far underneath the surface. But his desire was steadily boiling, ready to burst; all you had to do was beckon it out.

Moving your head forward, you tap his sensitive tip against your tongue, letting him twitch in your hand before a spurt of pre-cum dribbles onto the warm muscle, a string that connects you two together in a way that isn’t nearly enough for him. You languidly clean it up, letting the slightly salty taste settle in your mouth, savoring every drop.

Zoro would never admit defeat, practically choking down his groans in protest, but he’s just so eager for you to take him all down your throat so beautifully like you usually do, using all of his self-control to stop from thrusting into your tantalizing mouth. 

“Taking your sweet time, aren’t you?” He grunts out, his body tense from the lack of progression. Every nerve was screaming at him to do something but his pride was working overtime to silence them all. “You and your damn games.”

“What? You know I like to play.” You bite back with a smirk, savoring the way his jaw tightens. 

“Yeah, yeah.”

The mirth that swims in your eyes only grows stronger as you swipe his tip along your spit-covered lips, making sure to wear his favorite gloss before you give him what he’s so desperate for. 

Your slick tongue traces along the pulsing vein that wraps itself around his aching cock, humming softly to let the vibrations tease the sensitive skin, his length twitching under your touch.

“Still think you’re in control, swordsman?” The taunt easily slips past your lips as you tilt your head in question, using the angle to kiss and suck down his length and letting your tongue lather all over. Your near vindictive gaze never leaves his, unwavering as Zoro’s mask begins to crack.

“I’m always in control.” He grits his teeth, longing for the comfort of something tucked in between.

“Is that why you’re trembling?” You murmur, welcoming one of his heavy balls into your earnest mouth and letting the sound vibrate against it. Zoro sucks in a breath, his body jolting at the touch.

Gradually, you take him further into your mouth. Every inch pulls a new sound from him. Zoro shivers – from sheer frustration or an overpowering sense of desire, he doesn’t know. All he knows is that you need to hurry the hell up.

Like an answer to his silent prayer, you begin to engulf the rest of his length down your throat, your eyes watering from the pressure. A ragged groan escapes his lips, the slightest twitch in his hips as you sink down further into his cock. Swallowing him down, the hot tightness of your throat squeezes him as you continue to take him all in.

“Fuck.” Zoro hisses out under his breath, but it wasn’t nearly as quiet as he hoped it would be — or as sturdy. The sound came in a broken, almost haggard manner that was music to your ears. “You and that damn mouth– hnng!”

The way he can barely choke his own words out only spurs you on, doubling down on your efforts as you begin to bob your head, letting his aching length glide down your throat and giving it much-needed reprieve.

As soon as it hits the back of your throat, Zoro lets out the most beautiful sound you’d ever heard — a raspy groan of your name that melted into the beginnings of a whine before he snapped his mouth shut.

That just simply won’t do.

You pull back, gasping for breath as your hand lazily works over his spit-coated length, squeezing it gently in all the right places. 

Zoro’s hands itch and yearn to touch you, to push your head back down on his cock so you can finish what you started. He has half a mind to say screw it, his restraint withering away with every pump of your fist.

“Just admit you were wrong, Zo,” You coo at him softly, “no one will have to know but me.”

“Tch. I’ve got nothing to admit.” He can hardly turn his head away, his pride demanding he face you down no matter the consequences. But every curl of your lip, every flutter of your lashes was pushing him towards the edge of surrender.

“So devoted,” The word slowly drags out like a drop of honey – sweet and sticky. Your wrist flicks, giving the head of his leaking cock an extra squeeze. “Even to your own denial.”

Zoro doesn’t say anything – he doesn’t have time to. His breathing grows heavier as you let your saliva drip from your tongue and smear along his tip before you take him in your mouth again. 

Thread by thread, the rope began to fray, unraveling Zoro further along. His hands may have been tied but his hips were unbound, gradually lifting into the air to meet the warmth of your mouth, groaning as he slid deeper down your throat. 

He loves it when you get like this, it was one of his weaknesses, one that was pushing him further towards the brink that he had been trying to evade all evening. The way everything turned so sloppy, so messy as your saliva mixed with his pre-cum and made everything so slick. It was enough to make his mind spiral into an oblivion where all that remained was the heat of your mouth and the way your tongue expertly curled around him. 

“God,” Zoro grunts out, his head falling back on the pillow in defeat, once again choking on his own words as he tries to get them out. “Just like that, baby. So tight — fuck.”

The praise caught you off guard, a moan ripping from your throat and wrapping itself around his sensitive cock. The distinct snap of twine echoes off, but you don't have a moment to look before Zoro’s large palm caresses the side of your head, eventually pushing down on the back of it.

With a loud groan, Zoro pumps into your mouth, coming deep down your throat and leaving you no choice but to swallow it all down — a task you take in stride. Each spurt somehow felt heavier than the last before it died down, his hips slowly rocking before coming to a stop.

Gently massaging his balls, you hollow your cheeks, ensuring that every drop was drained from him until his body was near thrashing underneath you. Strings of white dribbled past your lips as you did your best to swallow down the large load but no matter how many times you tried, you could never get it all.

The sight made his cock twitch, gaze trained on you as you pull back until just his tip is in his mouth, giving it an extra suck that almost makes him shout. But you relent, letting it slip from between your lips as a smirk takes up your face, licking your lips like a cat who finally got their milk.

“Not so disciplined, are we, Zo?” You can’t help but tease, the sense of victory rushing to your head that leaves you in a hazy bliss. 

You crawl up his body and settle yourself over his lap, sliding your sopping cunt over his length, relishing in how it jumps with interest as you begin to ride along it. 

“Feel that?” You coo, knowing that your time was running out before he snapped. But the remnants of your win was empowering you more and more. “Maybe you’re more like Sanji than you care to admit.”

With every glide of your soft, wet pussy moving against him, the haze in his slightly fucked out brain begins to clear, a primal instinct rising in its place. You slowly blink down at him as you continue to move, looking far too angelic for what you’ve been up to. 

The way Zoro’s chest heaves as he pants, catching his breath with a monstrous glint in his eye that tells you he’s nowhere near being done — in fact, he’s just getting started. 

“Cut the innocent act already.” Zoro roughly grabbed your thigh, flipping you under him in a swift motion, relishing in your surprised squeak. He caged you in, looming over you like a hunter who had ensnared their prey. “I’m gonna make you eat your words, pretty girl.”

“Zo-” You protest, but he’s faster, already grabbing the rope he snapped out of to gingerly tie around your wrists. “I-”

“What? Afraid you’re gonna lose?” He leans by your ear, his breath brushing against your skin before he nips the lobe. “Or are you going to be good and take it?”

thank you for reading ᰔ

[robin-evry]

Hii idk if you could take req but can you please do Arlecchino or Acheron!yuu? Pick whatever you like to seperate or maybe write both of them.. But idk cuz it's my first time requesting this 💔🥀

If you don't want to do one of them, that's alright but I hope you have an amazing day and please take care of yourself!!

-❄ anon

Hello ❄️anon, so I'll be doing Acheron yuu on a separate one because another also requested, so I'll be doing arlechinno one first and then upload Acheron yuu later maybe tomorrow

𝐓𝐖𝐒𝐓 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐄𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐎 𝐘𝐔𝐔 🕷️❌

"The Knave," Fourth of the Fatui Harbingers. A poised, ruthless diplomat. To the children of the House of the Hearth, she is their feared yet dependable "Father."

art by stasyanart on twitter

A strict and disciplined student that many came to fear and respect, always efficient and poised to be around carrying an aura of power and discipline and whoever came across them would immediately act their best to try not to anger them.

Arlecchino!Yuu’s presence at Night Raven College shakes the school to its core. They are a cold, disciplined, and utterly unyielding force that commands respect through action, not words.

Unlike the other students, they do not waste time with games, social posturing, or vanity. Their focus is efficiency, control, and ensuring survival. Many find them terrifying, but no one can deny their competence and leadership.

Arlechinno!yuu is reserved, speaks with precision, and rarely wastes words. They don’t sugarcoat anything and expect others to handle criticism like adults. And if they cant handle the truth then they are immature

Whether it’s strategy, combat, or negotiation, Arlechinno Yuu is always ten steps ahead. Azul tries to outwit them? He fails. Leona challenges them? He has to actually put in effort.

Despite their strictness, they look out for those they deem worthy. They’d never say it outright, but Grim, Ace, Deuce, and others are under their watch.

Food, money, magic, effort—everything has value. NRC’s extravagant spending annoys them. They personally cook their own meals when they think the cafeteria food is too indulgent.

Will personally teach the first year's combat, to make sure they are able to protect themselves. Their training actually boosts the strength of them.

Many students would say to avoid staring straight into their eyes because you are gonna regret what your gonna see as if your staring back towards the abyss themselves.

Despite being cold and seemingly heartless, arlechinno!yuu cares and deeply hold closely towards who they see as family like grim.

Vil admirers arlechinno!yuu as well have you seen those shoes, vil sees him as an equal as them due to how both of them carry themselves but for arlechinno!yuu they don't look down at him but seeing his ambition towards beauty is simply wasteful why focus on looks when you could focus on efficiency.

Vil once tried to recruit arlechinno!yuu towards modeling but was rejected they said they hold no interest on being on stage they prefer being in the audience watching from afar.

Sees Riddle as too rigid and blindly obedient. Would have respected his intelligence if he weren’t so trapped by his own upbringing.

They detest liars and cowards like Crowley, who put themselves in a big position but in truth they are cowards always putting work on someone else rather than owning up towards his responsibilities.

During the opening ceremony they nearly killed Crowley, they woke up a burst out of the coffin with scythe in hand ready to decapitate him, and when riddle was interrupting them explaining how they disrupted the ceremony, arlechinno!yuu immediately look at him. The eye and he immediately shut up due to his guise having some similarities towards his mother.

During an over blot immediately cut down the monster in a single slash with ease as if it was nothing compared towards them.

Many students are curious about black markings on their arms but they usually told them it's better for them to not know how and where they got these markings.

They won't coddle grim or the first year but whoever tried to lay a hand on them would immediately regret their decision for laying hands on their family. Have a soft spot for ortho wondering why there's a child in nrc even tho it's for young adults.

Not to mention them being top students toppling over Azul and riddle in grades no matter how much they get arlechinno!yuu will always be ahead against them. Many faculty respect them as in professor trein who has been a long time meeting a student as strict as arlechinno!yuu.

They don't care for status or power they see other as equals like malleus only seeing him as a person not as a prince or a god. Both of them would discuss politics and professional matters. Lilia and arlechinno!yuu would have a little disagreement on how to raise a child tho. While Lilia took a laid back approach arlechinno!yuu take a strict approach, they see silver needing more discipline as well as sebek which lilia disagree saying he's perfect the way he is.

[notarmedandnotdangerous]

+18 mdni! watch your mouth; a fic where bucky's your boss, and you're his secretary. he ends up getting himself into a lot of trouble with you.

cw: dom!m!reader, sub!bucky, blowjob, slightly rough, and mean reader, bucky confessing ab his most depraved thoughts, cumming all over bucky's face, use of 'slut'

word count: >2.7k

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9.1] [9.2]

___________________________________________

today was the third day of training.

bucky was already aching when he saw your message pop up in his notifications.

mr. ‘schedules a lot’:

‘i want you here at 8. bring the plug.’

he was so excited, he ended up being 7 minutes early to your home. when he arrived, the door wasn’t locked. he stepped inside your house, and shut the door softly. it was quiet, and dim, there was only a single lamp in the corner of your home. he stripped his trousers off, put the plug in, and knelt on the carpet, as you always told him to.

a few minutes later,

you emerged from the hallway. the sleeves of your white linen button-up were rolled up, as you walked towards the living room.

bucky’s heart jumped.

“right on time.” you murmured, eyeing him. “you know what to do.‘

he circled once, turning around to show you the plug already in.

“good start.” you leaned down to cup his jaw. your thumb traced his lower lip, as he fought the urge to dart his tongue out to taste your finger. “you remember what i said we would do today?”

“yes, sir.”

“you’re going to confess, out loud, on your knees, one thought at a time.” you pulled away to sit on the couch, manspreading just to tease him more. “and i’ll decide how much you get to feel with each confession.”

he didn’t speak, just shivered.

“go on.”

“i.. i think about being under your desk while you work, ignoring me, using me to cockwarm you, using me like i’m just.. just a mouth.” his voice faltered at the end, and his cheeks flushed crimson as the shame hit him. he tried his best to hold eye contact with you, despite the shame.

bucky had pictured it too clearly: you towering over him in your office chair, sleeves rolled up. all your attention was on the spreadsheets, while he knelt beneath silently. there would be no eye contact, no attention, no acknowledgement, just the weight of your cock on his tongue.

“you don’t want affection, do you? just want to be used like a slut?”

buzz. the plug jolted inside him, sharp, and sudden. his hips jolted, and he gasped.

“you like being beneath me that much?”

“y-yes.” he nodded.

“say it again, louder.”

“i want you to use me, l-like i’m nothing but a toy.”

“good, keep going.”

“..think about crying.. while you hold me down, make me take it. it’s not from pain, it’s just.. just how much i want you.”

you moved, leaning forward towards him. you grabbed him by the jaw roughly, and he whimpered.

“want it.. so bad.” he whispered. “want you so bad.. it hurts.”

“you’re going to cry for me when i’m done disciplining you.”

there wasn’t a buzz this time, you just gave him a look that made him shiver.

“continue.”

“i.. i’ve dreamt about you.. about you tying me up, and leaving me there..” he murmured, breaking eye contact with you from the sheer embarrassment. “i wake up hard e-every time.”

“you want to be helpless?”

he nodded.

“you want to be mine?”

he nodded again.

buzz. it wasn’t sharp this time, instead a low hum through the plug that made his back arch, and his hands clench on his thighs. he whined, body rocking forward. his eyes rolled back slightly, as he tried to regain his composure.

“still with me?”

bucky nodded, barely, before continuing.

“sometimes.. i edge myself just by imagining your voice.. i don’t even have to touch.”

you didn’t answer, just letting the silence settle.

“tell me how many times.”

“w-what?”

“how many times have you came thinking about my voice?”

“n-none.. i’m only allowed to cum on your tongue, your hands, and cock.”

“good, you’re learning.”

buzz. this one was more cruel compared to the others, it was more drawn out, perfectly timed. his cock leaked, and drooled all over his stomach.

“you’re falling apart.”

bucky didn’t answer to that, only continued with his confessions.

“i-i want to.. fuck, i want to be so used i forget my own name. don’t have to think, don’t have to speak, j-just do as i’m told.”

“crawl to me.” you leaned back against the couch.

he scrambled to obey, crawling towards you immediately. he rested his chin against your knee, looking up at you with pleading eyes.

you gave him a nod, a signal.

he kissed your knee gently, all while maintaining eye contact with you.

“good,” you spoke. “that’s how you say ‘thank you’ from now on.”

bucky whimpered. his entire body throbbed, not just from the plug, but from the need to give up control.

“i.. i want to choke on it.” it came out hoarse, his voice cracking.

this caught you off guard, you hadn’t expected him to be down so horrendously bad for you.

“i want you to hold me there, not let me pull away. m-make me drool.. fuck, all over myself, and still not stop. just using my throat.” his cock twitched with each sinful confession that he made.

“fuck, say it again.”

he sat up straighter now, perfectly positioned in between your knees.

“i want to choke on it. i want to gag, and drool, and not be allowed to stop.”

you looked down at him for a long moment. then without a word, you unbuttoned your pants. you relished in the way his mouth immediately parted, as if he was welcoming you.

“no hands.”

bucky froze, before putting his arms behind his back. he didn’t speak, he didn’t need to. his eyes were locked onto yours.

you took your hardening cock out of your pants.

he had practically started drooling at the sight of your cock. while his eyes went glassy as he relished in the view, thoughts had started running in his head:

‘oh.’

‘oh my god.’

‘that’s what he’s been hiding? all this time?’

‘fuck, it’s big, heavy, thick.’

‘it’s not fair, he’s not touching me, and i’m already shaking.’

‘he knows what he’s doing.’

‘god, i’d beg for it. i am, but fuck-’

then, you cut his train of thought off with a tap of your cock on his lips.

that was all it took.

bucky shuddered at the mere sight of your cock. a whimper slipped past his lips, while his eyes fluttered half-lidded. it looked like his brain was melting right out of his skull. his mouth parted more, tongue flicking out automatically like a starved man.

“thought so. one tap of my cock on your lips, and you forget how to think.” you tapped your cock on his lips once more, and he whined. “you’re already gone, aren’t you?”

he moaned softly, his lips parted as he waited, as patiently as he could, for his prize, for his reward.

“words are gone, manners are gone. that ‘big boss’ brain of yours? useless now.” you spoke, before giving his lips another tap.

he was fucking drooling at this point, eyes rolling back slightly, as if he was drunk.

“good, i don’t want you to think, i want you to feel. i want you to take what i give you, and show me just how much you need it.” you held yourself just out of reach. “you wanted this, dreamed about it.”

bucky nodded furiously, breath shallow. he leaned in, tongue first, then lips, before finally taking you in his mouth. the moment he felt you against his tongue, he fucking moaned. he moaned as if he was a starved man finally being fed after weeks of starvation. he swallowed around your cock, his throat fluttering as he pushed you further down. he didn’t rush, he savoured.

“yeah, that’s it, look at you.” you kept a steady hand on the back of his head, guiding, not forcing him just yet. “breathe through your nose, i don’t want you suffocating on my cock now.” you said, even though you knew that he would probably be into it.

the longer you held him there, the more desperate he became, moaning desperately around your cock. when you finally pushed deeper, he fucking welcomed it as if it was second nature to him. he looked up at you as spit started to gather, and drip down the corners of his mouth. he didn’t care, all he wanted was to be wrecked.

you rocked your hips forward slightly, testing him. you didn’t force it, just let him settle into it, let him choose to take more. that was the whole point of your ‘training’, it wasn’t you feeding him your cock, it was you feeding him obedience, and he was devouring it.

“eyes up, i want to see you fall apart.”

he obeyed, and your breath caught, just for a second. there it was, that glassy, desperate stare of his.

“good, keep going. use your tongue, no teeth, you know better.” you watched the way your cock disappeared into his mouth, over, and over again. “all that smugness, all that teasing, now you’re reduced to just a toy? how pathetic.” you started to move, it was slow, controlled. it wasn’t about the rhythm, it was about control.

bucky moaned in response, throat flexing to accommodate your cock.

“i want you to remember this- fuck, this feeling.” you brushed the stray tear in the corner of his eye. “how full you are, how silent you go when your mouth is stuffed full of cock.”

he nodded, batting his eyelashes at you.

you began using him then, not brutally, but effectively.

his jaw was slack, while his hands trembled from restraint. he was gagging, choking, but he wanted more.

“you wanted this,” you pushed yourself deeper into his throat, and held him in place. “so take it.”

bucky’s vision blurred, as tears welled up in his eyes. he was absolutely gone now, jaw slack, lips red, and stretched, spit dribbling down the edges of his mouth. he choked around your cock like he was made for it, like it was the only thing he had ever wanted.

“you’re taking it so well, so desperate. you’ve been thinking about this for a long time, haven’t you?”

he moaned around you in response.

you pulled out slowly.

“tongue.”

he obeyed, sticking out his tongue as far out as he could for you.

you tapped your cock against bucky’s slick tongue, just enough for him to start getting needy.

“you’re so fucking easy, i hope you know that. look at you, absolutely ruined. i haven’t even given you what you want yet.”

he panted, his chest rising, and falling fast.

you forced yourself back inside his mouth, you were so close, and he knew it. he could feel the way your grip tightened at the back of his head, the way your hips stuttered.

“don’t move.” you pulled out of his mouth once more. then, you gripped yourself in one hand, and stroked slowly. “keep those eyes open.” you spoke, before you came, thick ropes of cum splattered across his face.

bucky shuddered, letting out a broken gasp as if he was the one cumming. he didn’t flinch, didn’t wipe it off, he knew better.

you didn’t speak right away, just looked at him, who stayed exactly where he was. you leaned forward, reaching for a clean cloth you had placed on the edge of the coffee table earlier. you brushed the damp fabric over his cheek, it was gentle, yet firm.

bucky’s breath hitched, the way your fingers lingered on his skin, the way you never broke eye contact. you didn’t need to praise him again, didn’t need to reward him.

you cleaned every drop slowly, deliberately. it wasn’t because it was hard to clean, but because you thought that he deserved to feel every second of it. when you were done, you pressed a kiss, lovingly, to his forehead.

that was the only permission he needed to finally relax.

[5]

[heliosunny]

Hello, may I request mydei and phainon reaction on self sacrificing reader? Both are in the middle of battle, but they fail to notice a sneak attack resulting reader shielding them. But instead of backing down, the reader just continue to attack the enemies ignoring their injuries, after battle reader still alive in the end, just barely (I'm not ready for angst 😔). Sorry if it's bad desc, I'm not good at explaining. Anyway, thank you.

You first met Phainon and Mydei when you were barely old enough to wield a sword. And if fate had been kinder, you never would have met them at all.

You had no noble blood, no great legacy. You were just a normal human, a child caught in the endless conflicts of kingdoms. Your only talent was surviving, and that was enough to bring you to the war camps where young warriors trained.

It was there that you met them.

The first time you saw Mydei, he was getting scolded by his instructor for fighting bare-handed instead of using his sword. He had just sent another boy crashing into the dirt with a well-placed throw, all while laughing like this was the best fun he’d had in weeks.

“You’re supposed to fight with a weapon!”

“But what if I lose my weapon? Gotta be ready for anything, right?”

You expected him to be arrogant. A prince, after all, had no reason to look twice at someone like you.

But when he caught you staring, he just flashed you an easygoing smile. “Hey. You fight?”

You hesitated. “…Yeah.”

His grin widened. “Great! Let’s spar.”

He didn’t give you time to refuse. Before you knew it, you were thrown into a match with him, and to your own surprise—you managed to hold your own.

When you knocked him flat on his back with sheer endurance alone, he just laughed.

“I like you.”

You frowned, breath still heavy from the fight. “That’s not how sparring works.”

“That’s how friendship works” he corrected, completely unbothered by the bruises forming on his arms.

And just like that, Mydei decided you were his friend.

If Mydei was chaos, Phainon was discipline.

You saw them for the first time in the middle of the training grounds, surrounded by fallen opponents. Not one of them had been able to land a hit.

Phainon was not just a warrior—they were a force of nature. Their movements were efficient, precise, with no wasted energy. Where Mydei fought like a wild storm, Phainon fought like a perfectly honed blade.

And yet, when they turned those sharp eyes to you, there was no arrogance—only assessment.

“You” they said, stepping toward you. “Fight me.”

“…What?”

“I’ve seen you train” he said, voice steady, logical. “You’re not strong, not fast—but you endure. Show me.”

You had no choice but to fight. Phainon was ruthless, pushing you harder than you thought possible, knocking you down over and over.

But when you refused to stay down, when you stood back up on shaking legs, they finally spoke again.

“…Not bad.”

It was the closest thing to acknowledgment you’d ever get.

From that moment on, Phainon kept an eye on you. They never forced their presence on you like Mydei did, but they were always watching. Training with you. Correcting your form. Testing your limits.

It wasn’t friendship in the usual sense.

You were never meant to stand beside them.

One was a prince, born to rule. One was a warrior, destined for conquest. And you? You were just human.

But none of that mattered to them.

Unlike Mydei, who was born into royalty, or Phainon, who had carved their name into history through sheer force, you had nothing. No title, no noble blood, no powerful lineage to back you.

So you clawed your way up from the dirt.

You trained until your body was broken. You endured countless battles, taking orders from those who would rather see you dead than standing beside them. You survived betrayals, wounds that should have killed you, and nights spent in cold trenches while nobles feasted in safety.

You suffered because you had to.

And eventually, you earned your place.

You weren’t the strongest. You weren’t the fastest. But you were relentless.

By the time you stood as an equal beside Phainon and Mydei, you had already been through hell.

And they knew.

----

The campfire crackled, casting flickering shadows against the worn faces of your soldiers. The night was cold, but the warmth of camaraderie kept the chill at bay. After a long patrol, exhaustion should have weighed on everyone’s shoulders, but instead, laughter echoed across the clearing.

You leaned back against a log, arms crossed, watching as your team exchanged stories, tales of near-misses, foolish mistakes, and victories hard-earned.

But as always, the conversation turned to you.

"Come on, Captain" one of the younger knights grinned, nudging you with his elbow. "Tell us another one. The one where you held the pass against the raiders—alone!"

You raised a brow. "I wasn't alone. I had twenty men."

"Against a hundred raiders" another soldier interjected. "And still, none of us could have done what you did."

Murmurs of agreement passed through the group. Even those who had been quiet before now leaned in, waiting.

You exhaled. You weren’t one for boasting. The fight had been brutal, the kind that left scars deeper than flesh. But this was more than just storytelling—it was morale. Your men respected you not because of your birth, but because of what you had endured beside them.

And so, you gave them what they wanted.

You spoke of the storm, the cold bite of steel, the way the enemy came in waves. You described the desperation, the way your body had nearly given out, but you had refused to fall. You told them how you had stood—how you had fought until the last breath, until the tide had finally turned in your favor.

By the time you finished, the air was thick with awe.

"You're a damn legend" one of them muttered.

You chuckled, shaking your head. "No. Just someone too stubborn to die."

The laughter that followed was warm, genuine.

But across the fire, Phainon and Mydei sat in silence, watching you with unreadable expressions. You didn't have to hear their thoughts to know what they were thinking.

They hated this. Hated how your men adored you for the very thing that drove you into the ground. Hated how you spoke of near-death with nothing more than quiet acceptance. Hated that you kept proving, again and again, that you would rather break than yield.

And most of all—

They hated that they couldn’t stop you.

----

The battlefield had been left behind hours ago, the scent of blood and steel still lingering in the air. Though the war never truly stopped, for one night, you, Phainon, and Mydei found yourselves in the rarest of circumstances—a moment of peace.

The three of you sat atop a high cliff, overlooking the vast plains that stretched beyond the horizon. The stars were sharp and clear, and the wind was cool against your skin, carrying with it the distant hum of life beyond war.

Phainon lay sprawled against the grass, arms folded behind his head, his silver hair catching the moonlight. He looked peaceful.

Mydei sat cross-legged, methodically sharpening their blade. The rhythmic sound of steel against whetstone was the only thing keeping them from getting restless.

You were silent, watching them both, content in the quiet.

For once, neither of them seemed interested in lecturing you about your reckless choices in battle.

“You never talk about it.” Phainon’s voice broke the silence.

You blinked. “Talk about what?”

“What it was like,” he said, still looking up at the sky. “Before all this. Before you fought your way to where you are.”

Of course, he’d ask that. He always wanted to know more.

Mydei didn’t speak, but they were watching you now—golden eyes sharp and waiting.

You weren’t sure how to answer.

What could you even say? That you had spent your youth crawling through the filth, scraping for survival while people like them lived in castles? That no matter how much you proved yourself, there were still nobles who sneered at you, waiting for the day you finally broke?

Instead, you just shrugged. “It was hell.”

Phainon turned his head toward you, frowning. “That’s it?”

You smirked. “What else do you want? A poetic speech?”

“Hm. Maybe.” He rolled onto his side, propping his head up. “You never let anyone see the weight you carry.”

“You don’t need to carry it alone.” Mydei’s voice was quiet, but firm.

You glanced at them. Their hands were still steady, but there was something restrained in their posture, as if they were holding back something heavier than words.

You scoffed, shaking your head. “I’ve always carried it alone.”

Mydei clicked his tongue. “That’s the problem.”

You sighed. “You two wouldn’t get it.”

“We do.”

You paused. There was no hesitation in their voice. Because they had fought their own wars, too. Different from yours, but battles all the same.

For a moment, none of you spoke.

Then Phainon grinned, stretching. “Alright. Since we’re being honest tonight—” He suddenly sat up, his eyes glinting mischievously. “If you weren’t so stubborn, I’d have kidnapped you and kept you in a palace by now.”

You snorted. “You wouldn’t get the chance.”

“I’d find a way.” His smile was too wide, too knowing. “Or Mydei would beat me to it.”

Mydei said nothing, but the way their gaze lingered on you said enough.

You rolled your eyes. “You two are ridiculous.”

----

The palace was drowning in chaos. The walls that once gleamed with wealth were smeared with blood, bodies of soldiers and assassins alike littering the marble floors. The chandeliers swayed from the force of battle, casting flickering shadows across the carnage.

Screams, steel clashing, the sickening crunch of bones breaking—it all blurred together in the madness of war.

You didn’t have time to think. You fought on instinct.

Your blade tore through enemy after enemy, your breath ragged, sweat mixing with the grime on your face.

But even as you cut down the last opponent in your path, you felt it.

Through the haze of battle, your gaze snapped toward Phainon and Mydei.

They were cutting through enemies with brutal efficiency—Phainon’s movements were deceptively relaxed, his silver hair whipping through the air as his sword cut down a soldier trying to flee. Mydei fought with terrifying force, every strike designed to kill.

But they didn’t see what you saw. A shadow slipping between the columns, too fast for an ordinary soldier.

A glint of steel—aimed for Phainon’s back.

Another enemy, moving low, aiming straight for Mydei’s unguarded side.

You moved.

A sharp whoosh of air as the assassin’s blade descended—

And you were there first.

Pain exploded through your body as the dagger buried itself deep into your side. You felt it tear through flesh, hot blood gushing down your armor.

But you didn’t let it stop you.

With a snarl, you twisted your own blade, cutting through the assassin’s ribs. They crumpled against you, lifeless, but the second attacker was still moving.

You forced your battered body forward, barely managing to intercept them before they could reach Mydei. Your weapon met theirs in a brutal clash, sparks flying from the force of impact.

The pain was unbearable.

Your vision blurred. Your legs screamed at you to stop.

But you kept fighting.

Something cold dug into your ribs, slicing deeper into your wounds. You barely managed to kill the last assassin before you staggered.

“Y/N!”

You barely registered Phainon’s voice before another enemy rushed forward.

Your fingers tightened around your weapon, forcing your body to move—

But this time, you were too weak.

Mydei's eyes blazed with fury as he cut the enemy down in a single, merciless strike.

“Fall back.” Mydei’s voice was sharp, his breathing controlled—but his hands were shaking.

You tried to push forward instead. “I can still—”

A hand grabbed your wrist. Phainon.

His grip was tight, almost painful. His blue eyes, always unreadable, were now filled with raw, unrestrained rage.

“You’re done.”

Your body gave out.

The battlefield was gone.

All that remained was you, barely breathing, and the two who refused to let you go.

Phainon and Mydei had fought countless battles. They had seen warriors fall, seen blood spill across countless lands. But nothing..nothing had ever made their hearts stop the way it did when your body collapsed in their arms.

Your skin was deathly pale, drenched in too much blood. Your breath came in weak, ragged gasps, every exhale sounding like it could be your last.

Phainon knelt beside you, his hands pressing hard against your wounds in a desperate attempt to stop the bleeding.

“Stay with me” he muttered, voice hoarse. His hands were slick with your blood, and no matter how hard he pressed, it wouldn’t stop.

You didn’t respond.

Mydei was already barking orders at the soldiers. His golden eyes, sharp as ever, held none of his usual composure.

They had never been frantic before.

“We need the best healer” Mydei snapped, “Now.”

A knight hesitated. “The nearest healer is—”

“The best. Find the best in the kingdom. If they take too long...I’ll make them regret it.”

The soldiers ran.

But even with the best healer, would it be enough?

Phainon and Mydei didn’t know.

With you in Mydei’s arms, your body limp against his chest, he sprinted through the war-torn corridors of the palace. Blood from your wounds stained his armor, dripping onto the cracked marble floors with every hurried step. Phainon ran beside him

Every second mattered.

You weren’t allowed to die.

Not after everything. Not after you survived hell to get where you were.

Mydei moved faster.

They both knew exactly where to go.

The grand hall of healers was a place untouched by war, its white stone walls glowing beneath the soft light of enchanted lanterns. The scent of herbs and incense clashed with the overwhelming stench of blood that followed Phainon and Mydei as they burst through the entrance.

A group of healers turned in shock, their pristine robes paling at the sight of the two warriors—covered in your blood.

“Save my friend.” Mydei ordered.

The head healer, an older woman with sharp eyes, stepped forward. “Put them here” she instructed, motioning to a large healing table.

Mydei carefully lowered you down, but his hands lingered longer than necessary. As if letting go would mean losing you.

Phainon stood at your side, arms crossed, his fingers digging into his sleeves. He watched as the healers swarmed around you, their hands already moving, pressing against your wounds, muttering incantations and preparing potions.

One of them turned toward Mydei and Phainon.

“They’ve lost a dangerous amount of blood,” the healer said grimly. “And the wound was deep—if it had gone any farther, it would have been fatal.”

Phainon’s jaw clenched.

“But?” Mydei demanded.

The healer hesitated. “They are alive.”

For a moment, neither Phainon nor Mydei spoke. The tension in their shoulders didn’t ease, their expressions didn’t change.

But something in them released—like a thread that had been stretched to its limit, finally loosening.

As the healers worked, neither of them moved from your side.

They wouldn’t leave you alone.

Because if you woke up and they weren’t there—

They didn’t know if they’d ever forgive themselves.

Hours passed, maybe days, but you never stirred.

The healers did everything they could. The best potions, the most advanced spells—everything to stabilize you. But in the end, it was your body that had to fight.

Phainon never left your side.

Not even once.

He sat by your bed, his arms resting on his knees, his fingers digging into his palms. His blue eyes—once so sharp, so full of amusement—looked hollow.

He watched over you like a sentinel, barely blinking, barely breathing whenever you exhaled just a little too softly.

He spoke sometimes, his voice rough, low, meant only for you to hear.

“You’re really pushing it this time, huh?”

A pause. His fingers twitched against his knee.

“You’re not allowed to die, you know.”

His chest tightened painfully. His heartbeat felt wrong without you awake to match its rhythm.

Mydei didn’t sit.

He paced.

His golden eyes never left you, his hands clenched so tightly at their sides that their nails dug into their palms.

He should’ve noticed the assassin.

He should’ve been fast enough to stop it.

And now, you were paying for it.

The first night, he barely said a word.

He stood at the far end of the room, back straight, jaw locked, every inch of him looking like they were ready for battle—except he wasn’t.

“…You’re an idiot”

A shaky breath.

“We told you not to throw yourself into war.”

“Next time…” His voice wavered. “Next time, you let me take the hit.”

The room was silent. Phainon still sat beside you, unmoving. Mydei stayed at the edge of your bed, eyes dark with guilt.

Neither of them spoke.

Neither of them slept.

Neither of them moved unless it was to check if you were still breathing.

Because until you woke up—

Nothing else mattered.

It started with a breath.

Phainon noticed first.

His sharp blue eyes, which had been locked onto your face for days, widened the second your fingers twitched. He straightened so fast his chair nearly toppled over, his heart slamming against his ribs.

“Y/N?” His voice was hoarse, his throat dry from days of barely speaking.

Mydei’s head snapped toward you

Your eyelids fluttered.

A slow, exhausted movement, like lifting them took more energy than you had. The world was blurry at first, too bright—but the moment you saw two figures hovering over you, you knew.

They were still here.

“…Stop” you rasped, voice barely above a whisper. “…staring.”

Phainon exhaled a shaky laugh—relieved, but also furious.

“You absolute menace” he muttered, but there was no heat behind it. His shoulders shook, his usual confidence shattered. “Do you have any idea how long you kept us waiting?”

“…You’re idiots” you mumbled, still exhausted, still in pain. But the words were laced with something softer. Something grateful.

Phainon let out a slow breath, running a hand through his messy silver hair.

“You’re one to talk.” he muttered.

Mydei finally spoke, their voice quieter than usual.

“Don’t ever do that again.”

You didn’t respond right away.

Because you couldn’t promise that.

You all knew it.

You barely had time to process being alive before they smothered you.

Phainon and Mydei weren’t the type to hover—or so you thought.

But as the days passed, as you drifted in and out of consciousness, you realized something:

You were never alone.

Phainon was always there when you woke up.

Sometimes sitting on the chair beside your bed, boots propped up on the frame like he had no care in the world. Other times, he leaned against the wall, arms crossed, watching you like a hawk.

At first, you thought it was a coincidence.

Then you woke up at three different times in the night and saw him still there.

“Phainon” you muttered, voice weak. “You need to sleep.”

“I’ll sleep when you stop looking like death” he shot back, tossing a small piece of fruit at you.

You barely caught it with your sluggish reflexes. “…Did you just throw food at a wounded person?”

“Gotta make sure you’re still functional” he said with a smirk, but his fingers drummed anxiously against his arms. “Eat it. You need strength.”

The next time you woke, he was gone. But the blanket was pulled higher over you, and a small tray of food rested at your bedside.

Unlike Phainon, Mydei didn’t talk much.

Instead, he acted. When your muscles were stiff from days in bed, he was the one who helped you stretch. Silent but firm, guiding your movements with precise hands, ensuring you didn’t push too hard.

When the bandages needed to be changed, he did it himself.

“I should’ve noticed the attack.....I should’ve stopped it before you had to.”

You frowned. “…It’s not your fault.”

Then, without a word, Mydei tightened the bandage a little too much.

“Ow.”

He didn’t apologize.

But the next day, when you struggled to sit up, he was already there—offering a silent hand for you to take.

Phainon and Mydei switched shifts without speaking. If one left, the other appeared like clockwork.

When you finally stood on your own, Phainon cheered like you had won a tournament. “Look at you! Walking! I almost forgot you had legs.”

“You’re still weak” Mydei muttered.

“Thanks for the confidence boost.” You rolled your eyes

Their hands hovered near your arm, like they were ready to catch you if you so much as wobbled.

----

“Alright, Y/N, you’ve had your fun. But no more war for you.”

“…Excuse me?”

“We’re not letting you go back” Mydei stated.

You stared at him. Then at Phainon. Then back at Mydei.

“…That’s not your decision to make.”

Phainon sighed dramatically, pushing off the wall. “See, that’s the thing—you clearly don’t make good decisions for yourself. Case in point: nearly dying.”

“You nearly die all the time” you shot back.

You turned to Mydei, expecting at least some reason from him. “You know I can’t just sit here and—”

“You will.” His voice was calm, but unyielding. “You’re not throwing yourself into another battle.”

You clenched your jaw. Frustration bubbled.

“You can’t stop me” you said, evenly.

Phainon and Mydei exchanged a look.

Then Phainon smiled way too cheerfully. “Oh, we absolutely can.”

Days passed. You regained your strength, your mobility.

But Phainon and Mydei never budged.

They weren’t just forbidding you from going back to war. They were enforcing it.

Phainon kept distracting you—always dragging you into conversations, sparring matches, or just physically blocking the exit with a lazy grin.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

You scowled. “Outside.”

“Mm. Sounds fake.”

And Mydei? He didn’t play games.

He simply stood there. His golden eyes pinned you in place, and when you tried to slip past him, his hand shot out—gripping your wrist.

“You’re not leaving.”

One evening, you snapped.

“You can’t keep me locked here like some fragile thing,” you spat, fists clenched. “I fought my way up! I bled for my place in the army, and I’ll keep fighting whether you like it or not!”

“You don’t get it, do you?”

“You think we don’t know how hard you fought?” His blue eyes burned with something unreadable. “You think we don’t know what you sacrificed?”

“We watched you almost die, Y/N.”

“And you would do it again” Mydei added, “Without hesitation.”

You turned to them, ready to argue—but stopped. You could fight them. You could keep arguing, keep pushing, keep forcing yourself into battle until you finally didn’t make it out.

Or

You could stay.

Not out of weakness.

But because, for the first time, someone was telling you

You’ve done enough.

You let out a slow breath, your shoulders finally relaxing.

“…Fine.”

Two pairs of eyes locked onto you—one shocked, one wary.

Phainon’s grin was slow, careful. “Fine?”

You huffed. “Fine. But if you both get yourselves killed without me, I’ll find a way to haunt you.”

Mydei let out the smallest, barely noticeable breath—relief.

Phainon’s grin widened. “Aw, you do care.”

You rolled your eyes.

But when Mydei placed a steady, reassuring hand on your shoulder and Phainon bumped his fist against yours with a lopsided smirk, you realized you weren’t fighting alone.

[quarterlifekitty]

Uhhhhmmmm I’ve been thinking about being a KorTac sniper.

And König resents you in a very special, petty way. He’s catty when you’re not around, snippy when you are. Very unusual, given how silent and professional he usually is around the base.

He hates that you’re doing what he wanted to do. But of course it’s much more than that— he doesn’t feel this way towards all of the snipers he works with. He hates that you have the job he wanted and he’s hopelessly attracted to you.

He can’t even claim that he acts so childishly because you don’t work hard, or you’re insubordinate, or that you lack discipline. He’s just a lonely, insecure man who cannot handle how much of your image in his mind is composed of that which he cannot have. You exist in perfect contradiction to him. Lovely, with subtlety in your precision and skill. He is a big, ugly thing used to break down doors. Your work is in adaptation, his is in being uncompromising.

He thinks about what you’d look like crying from his thick cock stretching you, breaking that well-trained composure of yours.

König is not a stranger to acknowledging the capabilities of his teammates, as rare as it is. He will not deny that there have been occasions in which you’ve saved his ass, bought him time, cleared his path to evac.

Body armor cannot save him from everything. The setting of this mission was woefully low on cover, forcing him to cross long distances in the open when moving through the area. The last stretch is the longest, and it’s nothing short of miraculous that he closes the distance without being shot down. He isn’t even seriously wounded. Bullets, from whoever has been charged with his cover, provided the miracle.

He makes it to the nearest high ground outpost, by no means a safe distance, but safer than before even through the smoke. He sees Horangi hauling you over his shoulder— evidently dragged from the base of a charred watchtower, only recently put out— or perhaps burnt through. Wheezing, dirty, singed sleeves and a nasty looking burn on your forearm.

“Smoke inhalation, mostly. Should be fine. But I don’t understand why she didn’t leave once the fire started. 바보야….” He trails, marching off to get you to medical attention.

König looks over the barricade and towards the horizon to see where your scope hade been pointed. Deep down, he already knows.

It’s a familiar run of ground, to say the least.

[chadobi]

Okay, I’ve recently been in the mood to write something about 2012 Leo, so I hope you enjoy it! I’d also like to apologize for the number of tags in my previous posts, etc. I’m still learning how Tumblr works, so thank you for pointing it out, and I hope it’s all good now! Either way, happy reading!

“Letters Never Sent”

TMNT 2012 Leonardo x Reader

You never meant to find the box.

Really, you didn’t. You had just come by the lair to return Donnie’s tablet and maybe hang around long enough to catch Leo before patrol. It wasn’t like you planned to snoop. But when Donnie told you Leo was already out and that your missing notebook wasn’t in the lab, you figured—just maybe—it had ended up in Leo’s room.

The notebook was important. It had your training notes in it, doodles, even a few snippets of poetry you’d never admit to writing out loud. But mostly, it had Leo’s handwriting in the margins—small corrections, comments, thoughts from your shared training sessions. That made it special.

His room was tidy, of course. Not obsessively clean, but well-kept in that disciplined way that just was Leo. Sword racks on the walls. A few cracked comics under his bed. A blue blanket thrown over a floor cushion that doubled as a reading spot. The air smelled like old books, tea, and faintly of whatever incense Master Splinter had lit earlier that evening.

You were just about to give up when your hand brushed something behind a stack of old comic volumes on the shelf. A cardboard box—plain and unassuming—worn around the corners, like it had been opened and closed more times than it should have. You shifted it toward the light, blinking at the neat label stuck to the top:

To Y/N — letters never sent

Your chest constricted.

There was something achingly intimate about it, like finding someone’s diary with your name on the first page.

You hesitated.

Then you sat down on the edge of his bed and opened the box.

Inside were layers of folded paper—some crisp, some worn thin like they’d been read over and over. Napkins, corners of pizza boxes, torn notebook pages. One had a coffee ring stain on it. Another was sealed with blue painter’s tape. At the very bottom, there was a tiny origami turtle with your name carefully inked on its shell in looping, delicate script.

You stared. Then slowly, reverently, picked up the first letter and unfolded it.

Dear Y/N,

Mikey made a dumb joke again tonight—said Donnie should get a PhD in “Mutant Mayhem Management.”

Everyone laughed.

You laughed too.

I don’t think you noticed, but when you laugh, your nose scrunches slightly. Not in a bad way. In a way that makes it impossible to look away.

I laughed too, but not at the joke.

I was laughing because you were laughing. Because your happiness makes me feel like maybe the world’s not so broken.

— Leo

You swallowed hard.

This wasn’t just a silly crush. These weren’t random musings. These were confessions—tiny glimpses of thoughts he’d never shared, pieces of a quiet heart too cautious to speak them aloud.

Your fingers moved to the next one without even thinking.

Y/N,

We were on the roof last night. Do you remember? The wind was colder than usual. You asked if I was okay. I said I was fine.

I lied.

I’m not okay. I’m scared. I’ve fought mutants, robots, aliens… but this is scarier.

Because I think I’m falling for you, and I don’t know how to say it.

I’ve always been the leader. The protector. The strategist.

But around you… I just want to be Leo.

— Leonardo

You felt something warm and sharp and real press against your ribs. A ache, but not a painful one. You could almost hear his voice in the words—stiff, deliberate, like he had to wrestle each letter down on paper.

The next few letters spilled out more of the same: thoughts, memories, little daydreams. He noticed everything about you, from the way your hands moved when you spoke passionately, to how you always stood a little closer to him when the city felt unsafe. He wrote about the first time he saw you cry. About how he wished he knew what to say when you did. About how he practiced telling you how he felt but never got past “hey” before chickening out.

Some of them were funny. One was an apology for nearly knocking you over during sparring. One was a list of reasons why he wasn’t going to give you a letter, followed by a reason that simply said:

“Because you deserve someone better than me.”

That one made your throat tighten the most.

You didn’t hear the door open.

“Y/N?”

You froze.

Leonardo stood in the doorway—gear still on from patrol, blades strapped to his shell, blue mask untied and trailing behind his neck. His eyes went from you, to the box, and then to the open letters scattered across his bed like his heart had been spilled out in paper form.

His entire face went pale.

“I—” he stammered, voice cracking. “What are you doing?”

You looked up, eyes wide, caught in a mix of guilt and heartbreak. “I didn’t mean to. I was just looking for my notebook. Then I saw my name.”

Leo stepped forward slightly, then stopped like the floor might break beneath him. “You weren’t supposed to read those.”

Your fingers curled around the edge of one of the letters.

“Leo… these are beautiful.”

His mouth opened. Then closed. He looked away, jaw clenched.

“I was gonna throw them out,” he mumbled. “They were stupid.”

“They’re not.” You stood slowly, holding one of the letters like it might fall apart. “They’re… honest. They’re you. Why would you hide this from me?”

He gave a weak, humorless laugh. “Because I’m not good at this. I’m not like Mikey, or Raph, who can just… say things. I’m quiet. I freeze up. I overthink. I thought maybe if I wrote it down, I could get it out of my system.”

You stepped closer. “And did you?”

He looked at you. Really looked. And for the first time, his voice softened into something fragile.

“No. It just made me love you more.”

The world fell still.

Your chest rose with a trembling breath. Then you reached into your jacket pocket and pulled out something small—creased, folded, worn with time.

A note.

You placed it in his hand. “Then you should probably read this.”

Leo unfolded the paper carefully, fingers trembling.

I think I love the way he carries the world like it’s nothing.

I think I love the way he speaks like silence is holy.

I think I love him.

But I’m scared he’ll never feel the same.

His hands dropped to his sides, eyes never leaving yours.

“You wrote this?”

You nodded.

He didn’t speak. Didn’t blink. Then slowly—awkwardly, cautiously—he reached for your hand. His was calloused, rough from years of training, but warm and steady.

“You mean it?” he asked softly.

“I do.”

His voice cracked again. “Then I’m really going to kiss you.”

You blinked. “Okay.”

It wasn’t perfect. Your noses bumped a little. His hand hesitated at your waist, unsure if it belonged there. But when his lips touched yours—soft, gentle, reverent—it was everything you’d imagined in the lines of those letters and more.

When he pulled back, his cheeks were scarlet. “That wasn’t too weird, was it?”

You smiled and rested your forehead against his. “No. It was you.”

_____________

Later that night, the box remained on his bed—still open, no longer a secret.

You lay together under his blanket, side-by-side, fingers intertwined as you read every letter together. He buried his face in your shoulder each time you teased him, and you kissed the tips of his fingers each time he got flustered.

Some letters made you laugh. Some made you cry. All of them made you love him more.

Eventually, you held the final one in your lap, the tiniest origami turtle of them all.

“What was this one for?” you asked, lifting it gently.

Leo rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “That was going to be the one I gave you… if I ever got brave enough.”

You smiled.

“I’m glad you didn’t,” you whispered, leaning in.

“Why?”

“Because now I get to hear it from you.”

And he did. In whispers. In kisses. In quiet, unspoken promises sealed not with ink, but with arms around each other, breathing the same soft rhythm into the night.

[brookaboo]

Jeanist’s Next Top Model

Katsuki Bakugo x reader

Summary: reader is tired from training at her internship and just wants to see her boyfriend but when she gets there she sees what best jeanist has done to him

Warnings: None. Just muscle aches, hair trauma, and love. Genre: Humor, fluff, comfort

Your body was a battlefield.

Every muscle screamed in protest as you trudged through the city streets, the cool air of the evening a slight relief on your overheated skin. Ryukyu had not held back today—not that you expected her to. As the Dragoon Hero, her standards were sky-high, and she treated her interns the same way she did her sidekicks: like professionals.

You respected that. You even admired it. But damn, were you tired.

You’d spent the entire day learning close-quarters combat—how to pivot, roll with a hit, redirect momentum. Ryukyu had been surprisingly hands-on, and you now had a fresh bruise collection to show for it.

After dragging yourself through a long shower and barely finishing your dinner, you shot Katsuki a text with shaking fingers:

-I’m coming over. Try not to explode before I get there. Or worse, look too good without me. 💥❤️-

You expected a “tch” in response. Instead, he left you on read.

Suspicious.

Your curiosity (and need for boyfriend cuddles) got you up and moving, albeit at the speed of a half-dead snail. The Jeanist Agency wasn’t far, and you’d walked this path enough to know it by heart.

You scanned your ID at the front desk, nodded at the receptionist, and made your way toward the training wing—where Katsuki was supposedly finishing up for the night.

You turned the corner into the locker hallway and stopped cold.

He was standing there, arms crossed, glaring at the wall like it had personally offended him. Dressed in his uniform, minus the gauntlets, his stance radiated classic Bakugo irritation.

But it wasn’t that that made you gasp.

It was his hair.

Styled. Neat. Flattened.

Best Jeanist’s signature bang curtain had been transplanted directly onto your explosive boyfriend’s head.

It was glorious.

“Katsuki,” you choked out, hand on the wall to steady yourself. “Oh my god.”

“Don’t,” he snapped, eyes narrowing.

“You look like an off-brand boyband member,” you snorted, nearly doubling over as the soreness in your ribs made you wheeze. “What happened to the walking explosion I fell in love with?! Who is this well-groomed, fashion-forward man?”

He grit his teeth. “He gelled it. Said it was part of looking ‘presentable’—something about modern heroes needing discipline and… professionalism. Whatever the hell that means.”

You stepped closer, grinning so hard your cheeks hurt. “No, no—I get it. Totally. You’re very… classy. Corporate even. Very ‘Excuse me, villain sir, would you mind not committing that crime?’ energy.”

“You wanna die today?”

You poked at one of the perfectly combed strands near his temple. “Katsuki, it moves as a unit. I can’t tell if it’s hair or armor.”

“You’re standing like a baby deer,” he muttered, ignoring your teasing and grabbing your arm to steady you. “What the hell did they have you doing over there?”

You grimaced slightly. “Ryukyu’s working on all of our agility and reaction time. Let’s just say I spent half the day being thrown onto mats and the other half learning how to get up from them.”

His brows furrowed. “She throwing you around herself?”

“Not always. Sometimes Nejire. Sometimes Ochaco. Sometimes gravity, honestly.”

“Tch. Should’ve picked someone less dragon and more not trying to kill you.”

You chuckled, letting him guide you over to a nearby bench. The warmth of his hand on your back was a welcome contrast to your aching body. You leaned against him, nestling into his side, and he let you.

“…Thanks for letting me come,” you murmured.

“Didn’t say you could,” he replied, but his arm was already wrapped around your waist.

You smiled into his shirt. “I needed this.”

After a pause, he spoke again—quieter this time. “Didn’t know Ryukyu was this rough with you.”

You hummed. “It’s hard, yeah. But I’m learning a lot. She’s amazing. And I need to get better, y’know? I want to keep up.”

“With me?” he asked, tilting his head.

You looked up, surprised by the softness in his tone. “With you. With everyone. I don’t want to be the one slowing things down when it really counts.”

He didn’t say anything at first. Just stared at you, crimson eyes studying every inch of your expression.

Then, he reached up and ruffled your hair—gently, for once. “You’re already doing more than enough, dumbass.”

You blinked. “That might be the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

“Shut up.”

“No, really,” you giggled, sitting up straighter. “This is what hair gel does to you, huh? Makes you soft.”

He scowled and reached for the gelled bangs, attempting to shake them loose. “I’m washing this out immediately.”

“No no, wait!” You grabbed his wrists. “Let me take a picture. This is historic. I need evidence.”

“Over my dead body.”

“But you look like an off-brand boyband member.”

He groaned. “You’re lucky I like you.”

You smiled, pulling his hand to your chest and lacing your fingers through his. “I know.”

And in that small, tired moment—bodies bruised, egos dented, hair forcibly styled—you both found a quiet kind of peace. He pressed a kiss to your temple, resting his chin atop your head.

“Next time you’re sore like this,” he mumbled, “I’m carrying your ass to bed myself.”

You grinned. “Only if you keep the CEO hair.”

“…You’re insufferable.”

“But you love me.”

He didn't deny it.

[lovesickhughes]

Hi <3 Connor Bedard 💌 sweetheart: "Can I walk with you? It would make me feel better."

a/n: thank you for requesting! (not edited)

pairing: connor bedard x athletic trainer!reader

—

You loved your job, it was a new beginning in your life, brought you many adventures and stories to tell along the way, and it always kept you entertained. You had made an array of new friends, making the adjustments to your new lifestyle that much easier. And it only made things better with there being a specific player that made your job even more eventful.

You were hired a few months after the 2023 draft, and you followed hockey closely, granted it was the field of your career and what you were pursuing, but you knew his name regardless. It floated around, lingering every where you went. From social media, to class, to internships— Connor Bedard was the next superstar of the draft class.

When you met him, however, it took you by surprise. From the outside perspectives of media, he seemed like such a stoic figure. He was quiet, reserved and disciplined. So when you found yourself standing alongside the rest of the training staff on development day, you wouldn't have expected to hear his chipper voice introducing himself and extending a polite hand to shake.

He was charismatic, humble, and you noticed as days past, he was more than what the outside world perceived him to be, and as the season began, you knew he was a force to be reckoned with.

Being able to work and support the team for the past two years, along with learning something new every time you stepped into work— you truly came to appreciate your job.

What you appreciated even more, was the specific someone who always seemed to linger after practice, after games and showed up a few minutes before the scheduled time, just so he could see you.

You wouldn't have expected Connor and you to bond the way that you did, but since first meeting him, what started as a professional relationship, had erupted and blossomed into a genuine, refreshing friendship where you found yourself laughing so hard your cheeks and stomach hurt and tears filled the brims of your eyes. He'd make such an effort to be the light of the room, you couldn't help but notice how he showed a side of himself to you that the rest of the world had seen, and in that moment, you knew there was something lingering beneath the surface.

You started catching yourself holding your own gaze in his direction longer than you intended, feeling your heartbeat begin to quicken in pace when he'd enter a room or call out your name. Or even catching yourself smiling down at your phone when he had texted you more context for a story he had told you earlier in the day.

But it wasn't as if you were the only one experiencing the shift in friendship. You knew Connor felt slightly similar to you, in that you found his eyes meeting yours more often, he'd make more of an effort to stay behind and talk after practices and games, and he'd truly attempt to get to know you— and your heart swelled every time you heard him laugh or smile.

Before you knew it, you were in deep, and you had found yourself in a self-proclaimed situationship, given your circumstances were skewed, but you knew there was a line both of you were hesitating to cross.

It was another rough ending to the night, the Blackhawks had fallen short against yet another opposing team, and heavy heads and shoulders piled into the locker room, a thick silence following between bodies.

You busied yourself with your tasks for the end of the night, hearing the murmurs of teammates and coaching staff reviewing the results of the game. And you watched as the players slowly made their way out the locker room and towards the exit of the arena, you couldn't help but search for the specific set of blue eyes and brown hair.

It had seemed like more time had passed than what actually had, but finally the sorrow eyes of Connor met yours, his belongings tucked underneath his arm as he carried himself towards you.

"Hey, sorry about the turnout, you guys did a great job tonight— played really well despite all things." You exasperated through a breath, but you knew your words would only be heard as a mere comment, meaningless despite your support.

Connor let out a rough breath, eyes blinking slowly, "Yeah, I just wish I could've done more."

You tilt your head and reach a hand to place on the side of his bicep, "Hey, c'mon, it was more than just you. You guys are a team out there." You comforted, your voice laced with sympathy at Connor's mood. Your heart ache at the sight, wanting to be able to do more to show your care to Connor, but you held your breath, still hesitating to cross that line. "Is there anything I can do to help?" You asked softly, meeting his eyes again that were focused on the ground.

Connor's lips parted, hesitating to speak, his eyes forcing shut in contemplation before he spoke, "Yeah, actually, uh— can I walk with you out of here? It honestly would make me feel better." He confessed and you could see and feel the weight being lifted off his chest when you kindly nodded your head, pushing yourself off the wall to begin walking towards the exit of the building.

And as you reached the doors, you slowed your steps, turning to face Connor. His hands were tucked in his pockets, he was quiet and you knew his mind was racing, so you reached another comforting hand to his shoulder, but when you felt the fabric of his hoodie against your hand, you didn't expect his body to turn closer to you, closing the space between you.

Connor licked his lips, his eyes flickering down to your lips, then meeting your eyes again as his chest rose and fell heavily. "I, uh— thank you for your support, y'know. It means a lot." He weakly smiled, making your stomach flutter at the sight.

"Anytime, Connor." You smiled back, eyes darting to the side before looking back and seeing Connor wet his lips with his tongue. It was as if your eyes spoke silent words, flickering back and forth between each eye and slipping to each other's lips, the silence of the arena after hours filling the space. But before you could think, processing and making a decision, Connor's hand met the side of your face, delicately holding your jaw as his lips connected with yours.

Your eyes fluttered shut, inhaling sharply through your nose at the contact and instinctively placing your hands in his biceps to ground yourself, when you pulled away, meeting his gaze once again, you took in the sight of his red, swollen and wet lips, earning a grin to leak on your face, heating rushing through your body and letting a giggle escape your throat.

"Now, that made me feel much, much better."

[yukioos]

Umm idk if you have done him yet BUT PRETTY PLEASE do monomi 🥺 like Monomi is actually a jerk and reader is like the only one he is scared of and immediately shuts his mouth when she's around and everyone just thinks that reader is annoyed with him or hates him, but when the two of them are alone reader absolutely adores him and monomi is like that trope "a man that yeans is a man that earns"? Thank you and I hope you have a good day !!

you’re the only one who is intimidating to neito, but is still a sweetheart to him

“class b has beaten you once again! don’t you losers feel ashamed of yourselves and your skills? i mean, most of you are personally trained by all might himself and you still can’t beat us?!” neito cackled, pointing at the opposing class with a large grin and crazed eyes.

“why do you have to be so rude all the time, man? we’re both working towards the same goal—“ kirishima began to speak, a slight frown on his face and furrowed eyebrows.

“your quirk is nearly powerless, kirishima! how did you expect to beat us when none of you have reached your full potential or really mastered your quirks?!” neito screamed in the halls, causing other classes to peek their heads out in disturbance.

“there’s no need to be mean, man! we’re all pretty strong and nearly beat your class! you didn’t win by a long shot, monoma, only by a few points.” kaminari argued, rolling his eyes as his classmates began to agree with him.

“you go stupid when you use too much of your quirk—“

a familiar voice suddenly rang in his ears, “neito.”

you always caught him off guard. his eyes widened and his mouth fell into a straight line, causing him to stop speaking. he balled his fists up, and when he heard soft footsteps clack against the ground, he slightly slouched in intimidation.

his class’ and class-a’s students both became silent and stared at you, as you walked up to him with a certain look in your eyes, one they couldn’t pinpoint. he continued to stare at kirishima with widened, almost scared eyes until he felt a hand tugging on his collar. he slowly glanced at you, turning his head to make eye contact. his eyebrows furrowed worriedly, then he averted his gaze.

“don’t be an asshole, monoma. come on.” you scowled, glaring into his darker, sad eyes. the corner of his mouth dipped into a frown. gosh, he hated it when you called him by his last name instead of first.

both classes stared at you and the boy, who seemed to be afraid of you. his eyes were wide and scared, maybe even a tad bit ashamed. you looked like a sweet person, and to class a, the only time they saw you was when you were humbling monoma for his actions.

you dragged him away from the classes, and they began to peacefully chat without his yelling and arguments. he whined, “you’re gonna ruin my collar! i ironed it so well this morning!”

“no, i ironed it, and i actually just wanted to be with you.” you smiled, letting go of his collar and flattening it, smoothing out the wrinkles.

a small hum escaped his mouth, and he relaxed. you did indeed humble him often, pulling him away from arguments, but always treating him amazingly after he seemed fearful of you. you were the only one who could discipline him, and he knew that well.

“just wanted to see me, huh? you really needed to pull me away from the classes?” he teased, replacing his crazed grin with a softer one.

he grabbed your smaller hand in his, walking side by side with you down the hallways, preferring this over ‘talking’ with the opposing class.

you paused, causing him to halt his steps as well. he looked back at your peaceful face, seeing a glint in your eye. he tilted his head, “what’s on your mind—“

suddenly, your lips pressed against neito’s, and you wrapped your arms around his neck, chest-to-chest. he smirked into the kiss, holding you up with a hand on your back, which he rubbed softly. the warmth of his body heated up yours, and you softly moaned into the kiss.

after a few moments, the two of you pulled away, still in each other’s arms. he mumbled, “you’re perfect, you know? way better than those class a losers.” he rolled his eyes, still smirking as he made fun of them.

“i should be complimenting you, nei. personally, i’d say you’re more powerful than all of them combined if you can copy all their quirks. you can do anything they can, if not better.” you thought, shyly smiling.

blush formed on his cheeks, and he tried to turn his head away from you, embarrassed but reveling in your praise.

you teased, “oh, don’t turn away from me now, honey.” you ran your hand up and down his chest, even playing with his tie a bit, but he still avoided your gaze.

he spoke, “i’d hate to admit it, but you always put me in my place well, better than anyone.” he paused and smirked, “it’s attractive.”

you grinned and slapped his chest, “oh, quiet!”

he chuckled, wrapping his arm around your shoulder, still surprised about how no one knew the two of you were in a relationship. there wasn’t any reason for monoma to be scared of you besides the fact that you always yelled at him when he was rude to other classes, humbling him every time.

little did you know, tetsutetsu and kirishima stood in the hallway behind the two of you, jaws on the ground and shocked eyes. tetsutetsu fell to his knees, causing a loud clank to be heard in the building.

you and neito halted, and he whipped his head around, then yelled, letting go of your hand to point his finger at them. “what the hell are you two doing here?!”

to tetsutetsu, monoma was calm most of the time, aside from when it came to class a, which he hated. to kirishima, monoma was just a plain dickhead. he never knew if there was a reason behind it, but guessed he was insecure. there’s almost always a reason why people act oddly towards others.

but seeing him like that? seeing monoma, someone who was normally cocky, and just a couple minutes ago afraid of you, holding hands with you in the hall? it was one of the weirdest things both of them had seen.

both of them easily figured out he had a soft spot for you, however. no one couldn’t recognize his love for you when he was laughing with you, arm wrapped around your shoulder as he looked at you like you placed each star in the sky.

i literally love neito so much omg. have a good day too, i hope you enjoy this! neito’s so underrated ugh

[ozzgin]

Yandere! Yokai Harem Headcanons

Meet your (6) monster boyfriends!

Since the story will take a while to unfold, I decided to speed things up and properly introduce you to the characters. A little time skip to Reader becoming an onmyōji herself and renewing the bonds with the yokai men, this time at their request. They cannot bear the thought of separating from their darling and since she has reneged her life as a regular human being, someone has to keep her company. And so the days are spent exorcising evil spirits both in modern and feudal Japan, with a pack of demons following close behind.

[Main story] [Character Guide]

Content: female reader, monster smut, NSFW, obsessive behavior, reader is a monster hoe again but feigns mild reluctance

Kiritsubo

Kiritsubo is your very first yokai encounter and he almost immediately falls for you. He's always been at the receiving end of his master's wrath for not being able to use his powers, so much that even after Nakamaro’s ‘death’ he couldn’t sleep without being plagued by horrid nightmares. His back is covered in thick scars from the frequent punishments. You first begun to suspect his background when you jumped in to protect him from an incoming blow and he froze in terror, unable to look up and awaiting the anticipated discipline.

Needles to say that when he learns you're not like the previous onmyōji he becomes extremely clingy and needy. He can only rest if you're next to him and will often hug you for reassurance. You've shared a bed before there was any hint of romance, simply because he found your presence so soothing. That's not to say he relies on you for everything. In fact, he unlocks his nearly unmatched abilities purely out of his desire to protect you. He’s found his purpose in serving you, someone who showed him kindness when he needed it most.

As you go out into the world, he begins to question his exact feelings for you. An example of his intense musings: he's asked you, perplexed, whether he can kiss you like the people he's seen on the street. He's spent his entire life being trained by Abe no Nakamaro, so he struggles to understand how relationships work. He will be utterly oblivious to other people flirting with him (it happens every now and then, he is a handsome demon after all), but simultaneously worry that everyone is out to have you. He’s already very salty about the other yokai joining your side and will frequently remind them he was the first to accept you.

When you complete your transition as an onmyōji, the priestess warns you that you may no longer partake in any kind of bonding with your fellow humans. Kiritsubo, seated next to you, responds almost instantly with eyes sparkling in excitement: "Well, that doesn’t extend to yokai, does it? I can still make you my wife.”

Kiritsubo is very clumsy when being intimate with you for the first time, but it doesn’t take long for him to become rather addicted to the feeling. You often have to scold him to behave and in return he’ll be pouting and fidgeting until you finally give in to his pleading gaze. He’s very vocal and touchy and will leave you covered in scratches from all the pulling. Towards the end he’s a drooling mess, mumbling about how much he loves you and begging you to never, ever leave him.

Murasaki

Murasaki is very cold and sarcastic on the surface, but you soon realize he is the most caring and responsible of the group, always looking out for everyone and trying to keep them out of trouble. In fewer words, he's almost like a tsundere mother hen (he won't hesitate to put you in a headlock if you mention it, though). He goes along with your wishes and will politely listen to anything you tell him, but to others he remains stoic and even rude. You’re sometimes reminded of the preferential treatment when witnessing his aggressive way of dealing with his suitors, shooing them away with the utmost disgusted scowl.

“Huh? Why can’t I be nicer to others? Bold of you to assume my tolerance is not, in fact, a limited resource spent entirely on dealing with you.”

He's been your guardian from the day you met him. He taught you how to use a sword and how to properly cast spells and seems to have a solution for all your troubles. When you introduced the yokai to the modern world you assumed he'd struggle to adapt, but he was extremely quick to learn and is, to this day, accumulating knowledge at a dizzying pace. One wouldn't be able to tell him apart from a regular city dweller. Murasaki is the concrete definition of a jack of all trades, excelling in whatever he sets his mind on.

Given his status and skills, the other yokai have always been rather jealous of him, including Kiritsubo. Ironically enough, by the time Murasaki accepted his infatuation towards you, you'd already gotten close to Kiritsubo. Which resulted in a lot of unexplained jealous bouts from a yokai too prideful to admit he loves you just as much. (You eventually get him to confess and reach the agreement to distribute the wealth among workers.)

He will occasionally be in a good enough mood to share with Kiritsubo, but it frequently results in a bizarre competition between them as you awkwardly squirm underneath, overstimulated. More often he prefers to pull you aside after you've done the deed with another yokai and aggressively fuck you as a way to assert his dominance. "Oh, was he that good? Then why are you moaning much louder now?" He'll demand with a firm grasp around your throat. Sadly his extreme competitiveness extends to this area as well.

Suma

Among the yokai, Suma is the most easygoing one despite his intimidating appearance. Most evenings he’ll have a drink in hand, eager to chitchat and ramble by the campfire, with his relaxed laughter resounding across the place. He is very loud and blunt and will often need to be reminded of the colossal power imbalance between him and regular humans and demons. Although after accidentally dislocating your shoulder (he was terribly amused by your joke and gave you a friendly pat), he’s gotten much better at adjusting the amount of force he uses, especially with you.

You’ve only witnessed him serious on two occasions: first one is a recurring event, when he’s training alone. When you’re together, he’s always in a merry mood, letting you try out moves and spells on him and frequently praising you even after failures. His whole demeanor changes when he’s by himself, swinging the spear with a calculated, focused gaze that remains unperturbed until the end of his session. The second case is when you get hurt. Now, he does encourage you to fight, and your confidence in battle is what caused him to fall head over heels in love with you. He will immediately put a stop to it, however, if the opponent ends up harming you. Seeing your lips curl in pain is enough to set him off and send him into a full blown rage.

Suma is destructive in all the ways you can think of. Given his massive size, as much as he’d love to, having his way with you is not something that can happen spontaneously. Borrowing his powers can of course help your frail body to not immediately tear apart, but depending on how much self control he has (or lack of), you might end up needing urgent healing from Sakaki. Suma will be extremely apologetic for nearly fucking you to death, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy it. A more common approach is riding his hand, as one or two fingers are enough to make you dizzy. He’ll be satisfied just hearing your needy whimpers. He also adores watching you whenever you give him handjobs as your little, delicate hands struggle to hold onto him. You’re insignificant compared to him and yet you persevere, feisty and horny. His precious, tiny warrior.

Yuugiri

Yuugiri is by nature a manipulative, masterful liar, so it comes as no surprise that you had a hard time trusting him in the beginning. His habit of teasing you certainly didn’t help, as you could never tell whether he’s serious about something or not. Perhaps the greatest irony is that even when he tries to be honest, it comes out crooked. Such is the fate of a deceiving demon, although most people are only familiar with fox spirits. On his end, he loves that you’re so transparent and obvious, even occasionally naive. And so it took a lot of awkward pleading to convince you to renew a binding contract with him, given everyone was suspecting him of ulterior motives.

For Yuugiri, being part of such contract is the most vulnerable offering he could've given you as proof of his love. As your souls become connected, you can perceive his feelings in ways otherwise impossible to achieve. He willingly allowed you to be able to read his heart, and thankfully it worked. It was his last, desperate resort to get you to understand his affections. Do you finally see the earnest adoration he harbors for you?

He is the best choice if you're looking for a best friend to gossip with. He enjoys listening to your stories and pays great attention to every detail. He's also frighteningly vengeful, especially when it involves you. So if you ever complain about someone to him, know that he will remember it forever and will make sure to continuously get back at the offender in the worst possible ways and will only stop when you tell him to.

Now listen, I’m about to be quite crass but it is what it is: as a serpent demon he has a long, forked tongue and let’s just say everyone in the household can tell if he’s eating you out because it will be loud. It will be followed by the walk of shame, when you eventually have to come out of the room red-faced and sore-legged, with Yuugiri donning a devilish grin for the rest of the day. You always swear to keep it in next time, but within moments you’re tightly gripping onto his horns, mumbling his name in a feverish, drunken haze. Naturally, he can read you like an open book and this truth stands for more intimate matters as well. Leave it to Yuugiri to know what his darling likes best.

Sekiya

Sekiya has been fascinated with you from the moment you stepped into the ancient Tomb. To see the anxious, quiet Kiritsubo happily wag his tail after you and the stern, irritable Murasaki readily at your service…It was a sight most unfamiliar to him and he wondered how a mere human like you managed to whip them into this kind of submission. He refused to believe you’d be stronger than Abe no Nakamaro himself, yet after the battle - from which you emerged victorious - it suddenly occurred to him that it wasn’t fear or obedience coming from the two yokai companions. Just honest, unadulterated love. He felt his chest tighten with envy, all the resentment of being sealed in with an evil, hateful sorcerer finally erupting its way to the surface.

So when you offered him and Sakaki to join you (“What else is left to do among these ruins?”), he couldn’t agree fast enough. To think he, too, could be spoiled with the affections of someone like you. On the other hand, Sekiya is an insecure, nervous wreck of an overthinker and he felt like he couldn’t offer anything worthy in return. He’s a demon that casts barriers. Nothing more, nothing less. He doesn’t have Murasaki’s genius, or Kiritsubo’s raw power, or Suma’s brute strength…What use could you possibly find in him? Hence the constant need for reassurance. He will need you to pull him out of his melancholy every now and then, just a small nudge from the savior he so worships.

It’s an extremely rare occurrence, but Sekiya can get cheeky if his ego is stroked properly. So, for example, he’ll take advantage of the fact you’re both alone in the modern world and show you the handy usage of his barriers: a crowded intersection overflowing with people, and yet no one can see him greedily thrusting into you right in the middle of everything. It’s the high of sprawling you out in public without actually being seen. It’s also one of the reasons you no longer take him furniture shopping. Last time you asked him to help you pick a new table from Ikea and were confused by his requirement of it being “high enough”. Before you could ask for further explanations, the immediate vicinity started twirling into a blur and his heavy arm bent you over the surface. “Let me demonstrate”, he purred in your ear. Sure, no one saw you dripping with his cum, nonetheless scanning the items with your clenched legs and deep crimson face was humiliating enough.

Sakaki

Despite his gift to heal and revive, Sakaki is a terribly miserable demon, often plagued by gloom and death. He is especially receptive to negative emotions, and given your souls are connected, he is the first to detect any change in your mood. (You had to learn to block out the persistent throb of jealousy that tugs at your heart whenever the yokai is particularly insecure.) He takes great pride in the fact that he can understand your sadness better than anyone. The second you feel down, he’ll be right behind you: “Worry not, we shall suffer together. Such is the fate of lovers.”

The first time he joined you back into the modern world, you’ve perhaps mistakenly introduced him to classic literature you assumed he’d like. He indeed became infatuated with authors like Poe, Baudelaire, Rimbaud, Shelley, Hoffmann. For the first time in his long life, Sakaki felt understood, and you’re glad to have played a role in his new interest. Yet you can’t help the shivers running down your spine whenever you become the target of his overflowing, renewed inspiration. Grim, ghastly paintings, deplorably obsessive poems…You’ve unleashed an authentic Romantic poet whose only muse is you.

He’s a master of eerie awkwardness, more so now that he has access to modern entertainment. You were excited when he asked you out on a picnic date, only to discover you’ve been taken to a foggy graveyard. He enthusiastically explained his choice: you can scout burial plots in case one of you dies (he’ll die with you, no worries), it is a stunning reminder that his love for you is eternal, and you might even find potential names if you ever want children. Another time, when you rented a boat during a sunny day at the lake, he cheerfully wondered how you’d look if you were to drown (still as beautiful as ever, he’s certain). Ah, but he does not dwell on dark things only. He recently took you to see the famous Cirque du Soleil and he was equally mesmerized by all the light and colors. It was Corteo: the story of a funeral cortège for a clown.

Sakaki does not like sharing and prefers to hang out with you alone, without the other demons. In fact, he’ll spend the day holed up in his room, writing or painting, or go out on lone walks if he knows you’re messing around with someone. He’d rather not hear anything that would cause him turmoil. The only exception is Sekiya, as they spent decades in isolation together within the sealed Tomb, and they both share a similar lack of confidence. In this case he won’t mind laying you on him and offering the above position to his friend, or casually joining your fun if he sees you together with Sekiya.

[pinkthxt]

･°❀⋆The Ghost and the Southern Peachೃ࿔*:

Cowboy!Simon Riley & The sweet peach

A/N ⋆˙⟡ tw? Threat of violence . Maybe will add another part to this.

The heat was suffocating.

It clung to Simon Riley’s skin like a second layer, thick and punishing. The midday sun hung high in a sky so bright it was almost white, the horizon wavering under the relentless heat. The air was dry, tasting of dust and sun-scorched earth, and the wind, if it even existed, was a mere breath that stirred nothing but the scent of baked grass and distant cattle.

Simon lay sprawled in the middle of a vast field, his body aching as if he had been thrown from the heavens and left to rot beneath the merciless sun. The land stretched out in every direction—endless, empty, and raw. Sparse mesquite trees twisted their gnarled branches toward the sky, and patches of prickly pear cacti lay scattered along the cracked earth. To the west, he could make out a barbed-wire fence running alongside a dirt road, its weathered wooden posts leaning from years of enduring the brutal South Texas climate.

He pushed himself onto his elbows, blinking against the brightness. His head throbbed, his mind sluggish and thick with confusion.

Who am I?

The thought flashed through his mind like lightning, sharp and jarring. Then, almost instinctively, the answer followed.

Simon Riley.

That much he knew. That much he was sure of.

But everything else?

A void.

There was nothing before this moment—no recollection of how he had gotten here, no memory of where he had been before waking up in the dirt. He knew things, though. He knew the way his hands felt clenching into fists, the familiar weight of a gun that wasn’t on him now. He knew tactics, how to read people, how to survive.

But none of that answered the question gnawing at the back of his mind: Where the hell am I?

The sudden sound of hooves striking gravel shattered the stillness.

Simon’s body tensed, instincts flaring to life before his mind could even process the movement. His eyes snapped to the source just as a horse galloped past, kicking up a cloud of dust in its wake.

The rider was a woman, her posture steady, movements fluid and effortless. She rode like she had been born in the saddle, as if the land itself had carved her from sun and grit and wind. Her horse, a powerful chestnut with a black mane, moved like an extension of her—strong, controlled, obedient, but not broken.

Simon had seen skilled riders before, cavalrymen trained for war, men who commanded horses with discipline and force. But this was different.

This was natural.

She pulled back on the reins with a practiced ease, the horse slowing into a measured trot before coming to a stop a few yards away. Dust swirled around her, catching in the late afternoon light like golden embers.

She tipped her hat back slightly, revealing a sharp, calculating gaze beneath the brim. She didn’t speak right away.

Instead, she studied him.

Simon recognized that look. He had given it before. She was assessing him, cataloging every inch of him, looking for threats, for weapons, for any indication of what kind of man he was. Her gaze lingered on his clothes—dark, tactical, too heavy for this kind of heat. His boots were coated in dirt, but not the red dust of this region. His gloves, fingerless and worn, bore signs of combat rather than ranch work. The skull-printed balaclava pushed down around his neck was another anomaly—one that made her fingers twitch toward her hip, where he suspected a revolver or a knife sat waiting.

“You look lost, stranger” she finally said, her voice smooth, wrapped in a slow Southern drawl.

Simon stayed silent for a moment, his mind scrambling for answers that weren’t there.

“I reckon I am,” he admitted. His voice was rough, raw from disuse.

The woman’s lips pressed into a thin line. She wasn’t buying it.

“You from around here?” she asked, though the answer was clear.

“No.”

She raised a brow, shifting slightly in the saddle. The horse beneath her flicked its ears, sensing her unease. “Where are you from, then? Don’t sound Texan, not even American”

Simon clenched his jaw. The words stuck in his throat. He could recall training, the feel of a weapon in his hands, the snap of orders being given—but nothing before that. No origin, no home.

“I don’t know,” he admitted, and he hated how weak it sounded.

That set off warning bells in her head. He could see it in the way she straightened, how her grip on the reins tightened just a fraction.

“You don’t know?” she echoed, suspicion creeping into her tone.

Simon watched as she looked him over again, her sharp gaze flicking between his clothing, his stance, the tension in his shoulders. A man with no memory showing up in the middle of nowhere? It wasn’t a good look. And out here, in the deep south of Texas, strangers weren’t always welcomed with open arms.

“You got a name?” she asked, her voice a little harder now.

“Simon.”

She let the name settle between them, rolling it over in her mind, tasting it like she was testing for poison.

A gust of wind stirred the dust along the dirt road, whistling softly against the wire fence. Somewhere in the distance, the faint sound of a windmill creaked in the breeze.

Finally, she exhaled, tilting her head toward the road behind her.

“Well, Simon, I don’t know who you are or how you got here, but I do know better than to trust a man who just shows up outta nowhere.”

Fair enough.

Simon had spent years reading people, and she was an open book despite her guarded demeanor. She didn’t trust him—hell, she probably thought he was a drifter, a troublemaker, maybe even a criminal. But there was something else in her gaze. Not fear. Something closer to… curiosity.

She clicked her tongue, her horse shifting restlessly beneath her.

“Town’s about four miles down that road,” she said, tipping her cream hat towards the dirt road. “You can start walkin’ and you’ll make it there before sundown”

Simon arched a brow. “You’re not offering me a ride?”

She smirked, the expression slow and knowing. “Not a chance, stranger.”

And with that, she turned the horse around, setting off at a steady pace toward town.

Simon let out a slow breath before pushing himself to his feet, rolling his stiff shoulders. The town—Ruidoso, Texas—sat low on the horizon, a scattering of wooden storefronts, barns, and ranch houses, surrounded by endless miles of land.

Dust kicked up beneath his boots as he started walking.

She hadn’t trusted him.

He didn’t blame her.

But something told him she hadn’t seen the last of him yet.

masterlist ⋆. 𐙚 ˚

[myth1cs]

Obedience Through Discipline (Myoui Mina x M!Reader)

Smut; An officer not listening to their superior is a clear sign of disobedience. Luckily nothing a bit of discipline can't fix. Word Count: 3,021

The hard part was already over. Now that you've finished the training phase now you could finally start doing some actual work. You were assigned to officer Myoui Mina. She was the best officer at the station though many people felt bad for you which you didn't understand why at first.

It didn't take long for you to figure out why. She was always someone who was very stuck up about following the rules. Every mistake you made was followed by a scolding by Mina on why what you did was wrong. While yes you did believe that this line of work didn't have room for mistakes you still felt like she was being too harsh on you.

Things only got worse when she became a sheriff only after a few months since you were partnered with her. Even though time after time she had clearly expressed her disdain for you she never made an attempt to get you fired. In fact ever since she became sheriff it felt like she was keeping a closer eye on you. And you'd be lying if you said it wasn't making you nervous.

During your break you were sitting in your patrol car alone since your partner Nayeon decided to have her break inside. While you were eating your lunch you heard a knocking on your window. You looked up and saw that it was none other than sheriff Mina.

You rolled down your window and greeted her. "Hello sheriff Mina. Can I help you with anything?"

"You know about the parade happening downtown next week right?"

"Of course, what about it?"

"Well Ryujin got injured in the line of duty yesterday and the doctor said she wouldn't be fit to come into work for the next 2 months. So now I need someone to replace her for patrolling the area around the parade. I'm guessing you can see where I'm going with this."

This was a surprise to you. Why was she asking you anyway? There were officers who have been serving longer in the police force which she respected more that would be available to take over Ryujin's shift.

"With all due respect sheriff I believe others may be more qualified than me. Why not try asking officer Kyujin or-"

"I don't think you understand Y/N. This isn't a request, it's an order. You WILL be the one patrolling the area during next week's parade."

You let out a sigh knowing that there was no debating this with her. Once Mina makes up her mind her decision is final.

"Alright sheriff."

You rolled back up your window and Mina walked back towards the station. "Damn brat, who does he think he is trying to tell me how to do my job? Tsk, it's my fault for letting his disobedience go on for too long. I'll have to do something about that."

Breathing a sigh of relief you were glad that the encounter went rather well. Usually she would scold you for trying to talk back for at least half an hour but this time she didn't. Though you wondered if this truly was a good thing or if there was another reason behind Mina's actions. But you didn't ponder on that idea for too long. It was silly to think otherwise... or so you thought.

The week flew by in a blink of an eye. Before you knew it it was the day before the parade. You had to attend a meeting about where everyone would be stationed at the parade and what protocols to follow. You weren't really paying attention to Mina's speech though. Not like your role was rather complicated. Just simply patrolling the perimeter, if you see anything suspicious you were to report it.

"Y/N! Y/N!"

Mina's yelling took you out of your thoughts.

"Wh- what happened?"

The whole room had gone silent. Everyone simply stared at you without saying a word. Mina walked towards you and you felt your heartbeat fasten. You felt like your heart was going to explode or that you would faint from nervousness at any moment.

"You think you're too smart for this huh?" Mina said with a mocking tone.

"N- no I would never-"

"Meet me at my office."

Mina walked back to the front of the room. The tension was thick in the air. Everyone paid attention to Mina, everyone was too scared to look away from Mina.

The meeting wasn't supposed to go on for too long. But it felt like it went by in just a few seconds while also feeling like it went on for 5 hours. Everyone avoided you as they left the room. You followed Mina to her office, hands sweating, and your heart was beating so loud you thought everyone in the building could hear it.

Mina unlocked her office door and walked in. Your legs didn't want to move forward. Was it fear? But what were you afraid of? Losing your job or was it something else?

"What are you waiting for Y/N?"

"Pardon me."

You walked in. Mina closed the door behind you and locked it which made you more nervous. "Sit down." Mina commanded as she pointed at a chair. You obeyed and sat down.

"You know what you did wrong?"

"I uhm-"

Mina sat down on her desk crossing her legs. She reached down to grab your chin and lifted it up to make you look at her.

"Look into my eyes as you say it."

"I wasn't listening."

"Say it with your full chest Y/N. I can't hear you."

"I wasn't listening!"

"Not listening to your superior are you Y/N? How troublesome indeed, will I have to punish you for this?"

"No sheriff, I'll behave from now on."

"Good to hear Y/N."

Mina's voice suddenly dropped.

"Cause this is your last warning."

Mina got off her table and went to sit down on her chair behind her desk. "Now get out."

Without hesitation you got up from your chair and made your way out of her office. As you left her office you breathed out a sigh of relief.

You went to your car to drive home but you suddenly bumped into your partner, Nayeon, in the parking lot.

"So Y/N were you fired?"

"What kind of question is that?! No I wasn't fired!"

"Relax Y/N I just had to know. So what did Mina talk to you about?"

"She just told me that this was my last warning."

"Well if that's all then I guess that's rather tame then."

"What do you mean?"

"Come on Y/N I don't think I need to spell it out for you. Mina doesn't take things like this very lightly. If it was anyone else I'm sure she would've fired them already. And don't you think that she's been scolding you less recently?"

"Yeah I kinda picked up on it. Maybe this is a sign that she's turning over a new leaf."

"We can only hope so. Still the aura I get from even being in the same room as her is terrifying. I swear she gives off nothing but "Look at me the wrong way and I'll kill you" vibes."

"I swear she's knocked a few years off my life already."

"I feel that, anyways good luck with patrol duty tomorrow."

"Good luck to you to Nayeon."

-

The day of the parade came and you, along with a few other officers, were assigned to patrol the parameter and told to report anything deemed suspicious.

The area you were currently paroling didn't have many people. A few people passed by but nothing suspicious was happening in particular.

As you were walking you saw two people in an ally way. It seemed like they were committing an act of vandalism. While you were ordered to report things this wasn't any suspicious activity it was just people being stupid so you decided to just quickly deal with the situation.

Vandalism isn't something that you would arrest someone for in all honesty it was just a small misdemeanor but realized these were the same people you've had run-ins with these people before. At this point they were just begging for a prison sentence. The sentence for something like this was only up to a year so you didn't feel too bad.

-

Mina put Hwi in charge while she went on her break. For some reason she couldn't shake off the feeling that even though she told you that you were on your last warning you would still not listen to her. She made her way to where you were stationed.

"What the- I give him ONE job and he can't even follow that."

She pulled out her phone and called you. It only rang a few times before you picked up.

"Yes Mina?"

"Where are you?!"

"I'm driving these two people to the station-"

"Damn it you're supposed to report things! Do you even listen to me when I speak to you?!"

"Mina I-"

"I don't want to hear it! Meet me at my office the minute you're off the clock."

"But-" Before you could rebuttal Mina had already hung up.

You knew you were about to lose your job.

-

Once you got back to the parade Mina assigned someone else to stay by your side to make sure that you wouldn't deviate from your job.

The rest of the parade went fine. Nothing major happened that was worth noting. But you couldn't help but wish that it wouldn't end. You weren't prepared to be yelled at by Mina and get fired.

To your dismay the parade ended and so did your shift. You got a good look at yourself in your uniform before you walked to Mina's office knowing this was the last time you would be wearing it.

You had to pull yourself together and muster all your strength and courage to walk to Mina's office. Now you were standing in front of her door and you prepared for the worst.

Putting your hand on the handle and turning it you fully opened the door. Mina was sitting behind her desk sorting some paperwork.

Unsure what to do, you stood at the doorway simply staring at Mina. After a few minutes she looked up and made eye contact with you.

"Are you just going to stand there or are you going to come in and take a seat in front of me?"

Without saying a word you walked in and closed the door before you went to sit down in front of Mina not daring to make any sort of eye contact with her.

She looked at you for a few seconds before she went to type something on her computer. It seemed like she was just doing work for the sake of it but you couldn't tell.

Eventually she got up and walked up to her board where she had pinned a few documents. You glanced at the clock and saw that it was about time where most people were headed home. Most officers working at this hour were patrolling the downtown area.

Mina sighed and turned to face you. "It's impossible for you to listen. So what should I do with you?"

Was it a rhetorical question?

"I'd much prefer if I could keep my job, sheriff."

"You're almost at your one year mark. And this marks my third month of having to deal with you as sheriff. So..."

"Please don't fire me."

"That's not what I asked so I'll ask again, What should I do with you?"

"Uhm"

"Ran out of excuses have you?"

"I never made excuses sheriff."

Mina took a deep breath.

"Do you know why I'm stringent with the rules Y/N?"

"Because this line of work doesn't have room for failure?"

"Well that's not my main reason. Do you know the main reason?"

"I don't, sheriff."

"It's because I don't want to see people hurt." Mina walked over to you towering over you. "Or maybe I should be more specific. I don't want to see you hurt."

Mina reached behind her back and grabbed handcuffs. She danged them in front of you. "But I can't just let this slip by. I'm going to punish you."

The situation seemed to develop so fast you didn't register what Mina just said until she was handcuffing you.

"Sorry I leave the fuzzy handcuffs at home so we'll have to make do with these."

Part of you was hoping she was joking. Was this really happening, were you about to do it with Mina?!

"Don't do this Mina. Th- this isn't right!"

"Don't speak back to me you filthy brat!"

Mina's sudden outburst scared you and made you quickly shut up not daring to try to speak out of term.

"Now be a good boy for my Y/N. Just sit here and accept your punishment."

Mina got down on her knees and started to undo your pants. There wasn't anything you could do but simply watch. Once she took off your pants she ran her fingers along your thigh.

"P- please stop."

"You want me to stop darling? But your body is reacting so eagerly to my touch. Are you sure you want me to stop?"

She wasn't lying, you were yearning for her touch as much as you wanted to deny it. Before you could respond Mina smacked your thigh. It wasn't too harsh but it stung a little.

"But darling, I thought I told you not to speak out. Don't make me remind you again okay?"

"Ow fuck-"

She smacked you again.

"Drop the language."

"Y- yes ma'am."

Mina kissed your thighs while her fingers were rubbing against your clothed aching cock. You wanted this to continue but you knew this was wrong. It's not like this is standard protocol and she didn't even ask if you were okay with it. Yet you still couldn't help but be turned on by the given situation.

Even though you denied it your body knew what it really wanted. Shivering every time she ran her finger on your body to your cock hardening it was all too obvious.

She could tell you wanted to say something. "If you want to say something then I'm granting you this opportunity to say it."

"Please"

"Please what darling? Use your big boy words now."

"Suck me off Mina please I'm begging you."

"Begging now are we? Well I'm not entirely convinced yet, maybe you should beg me some more and I'll consider listening to you."

"Mina please, I really want you to fuck me until I can't walk. I want to lose all senses and be at your mercy."

Mina giggled at your statement. "Oh darling if you think that's enough to get me to listen to you you're going to have to try a little harder than that I'm afraid."

"Please fuck me Mina! I only crave your touch, I swear I'll listen to every order you give me!"

Mina rubbed her nose against your clothed cock. "That's more like it darling. However since you've been so disobedient then you'll have to make me cum before I give you any pleasure."

She proceeded to stand up and take off her clothes. Mina made sure to take her sweet time taking off her clothes. She knew it was driving you crazy and you wanted to get up and take her clothes off for her but your hands were handcuffed to each other.

Eventually she stripped down to her bra and underwear. Both were the same colour of pink. Mina sat up on her desk and started to rub her pussy using one of her fingers.

Low moans fell out of her mouth as she pleasured herself. You couldn't do anything but watch. You felt yourself get turned on by watching the scene unfold in front of you.

"What are you waiting for darling? Come and make me cum!"

"My hands are tied."

Mina laughed at your comment "I know they are darling. But I didn't put a gag on you did I?"

When you realized what Mina wanted you leaned forward and used your mouth to take off her underwear.

"Just like that darling, make this a learning experience!"

You buried your face onto Mina's pussy and shoved your tongue deep into her. Mina wrapped her legs around you tightly cutting off your air supply. "If you want to breathe then make me cum. Or else you'll suffocate between my thighs. Though I'm guessing you'd be okay with that wouldn't you darling?"

Fastening your pace you licked every inch of Mina's delicious pussy. Part of you wished your hands weren't tied so you could grab her boobs. But the current situation would do.

Though you tried desperately you felt yourself losing consciousness and before you knew it everything went black. "Aw did you pass out already?"

Mina unwrapped her thighs that were around your head and started to finger herself. Wet sounds filled the room as she shoved her fingers in and out of herself while her other hand was on her clit.

You were suddenly woken up by the feeling of something splashing on your face. When your eyes adjusted you realized it must've been Mina's cum.

"Oh your awake again darling?"

"Mina what-"

Another smack was given to you.

"What did I say about speaking out of term? And to think I thought about letting you cum. Since you seem to suck at making me cum and suck at listening to orders then I'll let you sit here and think about your actions."

Mina got up and put her clothes back on and you didn't do anything but watch as she started to leave the room.

"Don't worry darling I'll come and get you early in the morning. Till then think about your actions and I might let you cum first thing in the morning!" Mina said as she left the room closing the door behind her leaving you handcuffed to the chair to think about your actions that led you to this moment.

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

Sorry for not uploading even though I said I would get back on schedule. In my defense I've been reading a really good Lux/Jinx fanfic.

Starring: You Mina, Nayeon (TWICE) Ryujin (ITZY) Kyujin (NMIXX) Hwi (TNX)