#it's all part of the job he's forced to do

[bizarrelovetriangel]

interruptions.

all he wants is to have you all to himself but everyone keeps getting in his way.

fluff and slightly suggestive. brief references to chaotic velocity and his myth.

Ring. Ring. Ring.

He groans against your lips as his hands caresses your hips, urging you to grind against his thighs.

His bedroom is silent apart from the sounds of your exchange of heated kisses, your heavy breaths in-between, as well as the rustling of your clothes as your bodies yearn for friction.

Ring. Ring. Ring.

Sylus thrusted up to let you feel his excitement, and you responded by palming him through his pants, earning a low growl from his parted lips.

Ring. Ring. Ring.

You pulled away as the ringtone of his phone blares closely next to you. You gave him a look before he pinches his temples and reaching for the device on his night stand.

"You better have a good reason to interrupt me on such an important time."

This is the third time in just two days.

Sylus doesn't know how much more interruptions he can take.

"Looks like I'll have to cut our time short again." Sylus frowns as he gets up from the bed. "I'm sorry. I'll make it up to you, I promise."

"Don't worry about it."

Being Onychinus' leader can be demanding, so you're not mad at him at all. In fact, at the moment, you're doing your best to hold back a laugh.

"Before you leave, maybe take a cold shower first."

Two days later, as you were leaving your workplace, you ran into your lover who's dressed in his favorite leather jacket, bathing in darkness.

"Sylus?! What are you doing here?"

It's the middle of the week. You usually don't get to see each other until the weekends, unless spontaneous plans come up. You figured this is one of those special cases.

"Do I need a reason to see my girlfriend?"

"No, but you do need to be cautious when picking up said girlfriend from her job, which may or may not be interested in catching some suspicious people who love lurking in the shadows."

There's not an ounce of worry in his eyes at all. "Luckily, I have a strong kitten who'd protect me should anyone dare to put their hands on me."

You playfully punched his arm as you walked next to him. "You could've at least texted me."

"A surprise usually works out only if someone doesn't know what'll happen." He then taps your head. "There's a restaurant that I've been meaning to check out. Want to come?"

Your heart and stomach cheered happily, deeming him as your savior. After all, you're starving after such a long day at work. "Of course!"

Around ten at night, dinner was done and you ended up relaxing at an empty, quiet park. You sat down on a bench surrounded by red flowers and you rested your head on his left arm while he holds your right hand.

At first, the two of you enjoyed the moment of silence and appreciated each other's warmth and company.

You could've fallen asleep then and there.

If only Sylus didn't start leaving kisses all over your face. He dropped them one by one, slowly and softly, as if you're something precious that could vanish at any second if he isn't careful enough.

As his lips pressed against yours, his right hand brushes up and down from your knee to your thigh, warming up your body during the cold night.

Sylus' ragged breaths urged you to deepen the kiss while caressing his face, though your makeout session was short-lasted as a group of chatty, cackling teenagers had decided to hit up the very spot that you two are in.

Clicking his tongue, Sylus stood up and reached out one hand for you. "I guess this is our sign to leave. Shall we?"

"Yeah."

You couldn't even bother to hide your disappointment that your time together was once again shortened.

He came with you back at your apartment, though Sylus couldn't stay the night due to plans he has later on.

He wasn't even supposed to see you tonight; he forced it in his busy schedule because his urge to see you was just unbearably strong during these past few days, and the constant interruptions are absolutely not helping.

It's as if the world is purposely getting in the way.

The next interruption came during dinner at a restaurant that you and Sylus have been wanting to visit for months. You made a reservation two weeks ago, and you got to enjoy all the delicious meals and drinks that made the place worthy of Sylus' attention.

You were given the best seats in the restaurant, which would be the special table on the rooftop, decorated with dimmed, beautiful lights to illuminate the dark night, and flowers for your eyes and nose to feast on.

As you were finishing up your wine, you walked towards the edge of the rooftop to observe the scenery around you.

For a moment, Sylus remained seated, only shifting his position so that he could admire you in your beautiful dress.

It's one of his favorite views — you facing away from him, eyes beaming with happiness and lips curled into a soft smile, completely lost in the scenery around you and unaware of how bewitching you are and the trance that you always put him in.

He'll never get tired of it.

"Sylus, look!"

At your call, he appears behind you and immediately wraps his arms around your waist. He gave you a light kiss on the shoulder before moving his gaze to wherever you were pointing at.

Unfortunately, Sylus never got to learn what caught your interest because suddenly, you received signals that a Wanderer is nearby.

And so, dinner ended early and you spent the rest of your energy jumping in action.

The Wanderers certainly became Sylus' punching bags for the night.

At last, you finally won some time to spend in the N109 Zone.

You're at his house and you've just finished eating the dessert that you two made together a few hours ago.

And now, you find yourself trapped against the counter table with Sylus blocking all the ways to escape.

"Can't run from me now, kitten."

His lips touched yours.

"Boss, look what we found!"

"...."

"...."

"....oops..."

"...sorry!"

Luke and Kieran were frozen by the entrance of the kitchen, almost dropping the fancy looking weapon they were carrying.

You let out a laugh to break the silence. "Hey guys!"

Sylus sighs defeateadly. He did acknowledge the twins and the gift they brought to him by giving them a quick but sincere "well done" before turning back to you with a certain glint in his eyes. "I hope you're up for a midnight ride."

"Wait what?!"

He took your left hand and started leading you out of the kitchen.

"Right now?!"

Luke and Kieran only gave you a wave of their hands, still feeling guilty about the interruption. Sylus didn't look mad at them, but he does look frustrated.

Whatever he has planned out with you, they know not to interrupt. Even Mephisto stayed still after giving you a look.

"Here."

Sylus helped you put on a black and red helmet that matches the one he's about to wear.

You eyed the motorcycle and couldn't hold back your excitement.

"Blackrose Archfiend!"

The half-black, half-pink motorcycle with the trademark of a golden crow made you recall the first time you and Sylus rode it and race against other motorcyclists.

"It's been a while!"

Sylus smirks proudly. "I modified it again. I meant for us to test it out tomorrow when we have more time, but this is gonna be our ticket to peace and quiet so we'll use it now."

"Ticket to peace and quiet?"

He ascends the motorcycle and turns on its engine before reaching out a gloved hand for you, inviting you to join him.

"Will you let me be selfish for a little while?"

With a soft smile, you took his hand and sat behind him, holding onto his waist.

You didn't care where he'll take you or how long it'll take to get there.

Your heart races at the adrenaline rush from the roar and speed of the motorcycle, and the cold wind dances all around you as you dart across the moonlit, empty roads of the N109 Zone.

A high mountain roadside, underneath the stars.

That's where you ended up in.

Other than the noises made by the animals that live in the surroundings, there's absolutely no other sounds that'll disturb the comfortable, peaceful silence.

The only light source you have is the full moon right above you, but that's more than enough for you to see the look of content in Sylus' face.

His features are highlighted in such a way that makes him look like an artwork that deserves to be admired by many, and yet you're the only lucky one to see him like this at this.

"You're staring, sweetie."

"And what about it?"

He smiled and scooted closer to you so that your arms are overlapping as you sit on a giant boulder planted deeply on the ground.

"That means I get to stare at you as much as I want in return, right?"

You held up one hand in front of your face and used it as a wall to block his intense gaze. "No!" The way he gazes at you makes your stomach want to explode with various emotions.

No matter how long you've been together, he never fails to make you flustered as if it's just the beginning of your relationship.

Sylus laughed at your hand before intertwining his fingers with yours and putting your conjoined hands on your lap.

"You're mine for the rest of the evening, sweetie. Any objections?

You shook your head, melting at his words. "Not at all."

Despite your playful rejection earlier, Sylus' eyes were unable to keep away from you, finding you more entrancing than anything around you. While he could look at the moon, the stars, and the city lights, he can always see them every night.

He can't say the same for you.

Once upon a time ago, he lost you and you lost him. It was like having your entire world ripped away from you.

The day he found you again... he'll never forget the way that it felt. It was like seeing light for the first time in forever. Like gasping for air after holding your breath for so long.

He's reminded of how lucky he is to be given a second chance of a life with you. Even though he complains about the distance between your homes and your jobs sometimes get in the way of your plans, he'll always be grateful that he can spend any time with you at all.

He'll always cherish every second with you, and he will never take you for granted.

You didn't keep track of the time at all. You two sat there and enjoyed each other's presence, talking about whatever comes up in your head while admiring the stars above and the lights of the N109 Zone from below.

There were times when you two would pause your conversations and just embrace the silence, bringing nothing but comfort that made you want to cuddle — and you did.

At some point, your body had been enveloped by his arms. You're seated between his legs and your back is against his chest. You could feel his steady heartbeat that would occassionally lose its rhythm.

You're spared from the wind's icy kiss, but not from Sylus' warm, gentle ones.

It started off with him casually dropping kisses on random parts of your face. Sometimes, while you're in the middle of rambling, his lips will linger on your skin and you'd forget everything that you were about to say.

Then, his kisses gradually became more fierce. From the moment he fixated on your neck, you'd become a mess that's unable to talk.

After leaving a couple of marks, Sylus wore a satisfied grin before diving into your lips with his own.

He kissed you over and over and over again, taking full advantage of the isolation. Finally, no one can interrupt.

No one can take you away from him ever again.

[iamthatonefangirl]

listen - nsfw fatws bucky barnes

~~~

he's got you under a spell, you swear it. your legs spread across the bed about as far as they'll go, a pillow under your hips and his flesh hand holding the back of your head gently.

you whine, sinking into the feeling of him on top of you, the feeling of letting him into your body, mind, and soul.

"oh, babygirl, I know," he mocks. "you just need me to tell you what to do, don't you?"

his voice sounds so loving and condescending at the same time, so contradictory that it about fries your brain. he thrusts softly into you; you're a wet, dripping mess all over the sheets, all over your thighs, all over him.

"your little cunt is so wet and loose, baby, all for me..."

he pushes your hair out of your face and behind your ear, then trailing his metallic fingers down the side of your jaw. your head falls to the side, leaning into the contact, and his thumb comes to rub at the side of your mouth where you've begun to drool in your stupor.

"yeah, that's right. not a thought in your little head," he continues to sweet talk as he pushes his thumb inside your mouth, punctuating his words with another thrust. "that's it, babygirl, use your tongue. suck on my thumb like a good little girl, huh?"

you can't help but let out a groan. you feel like you're in a fog, or somewhere outside your body, looking in. is this what being high feels like? you wonder.

probably. he is your drug, the only drug you could ever need. your mind is addicted to the way he tastes, smells, feels... you can't imagine the withdrawals.

your eyes fall shut.

"now, now, did I tell you to close your eyes?" he mocks as he pushes himself in again, making you feel it so deep up against your cervix. you force your eyes to open about halfway, fighting against the feeling in your guts telling you to keep them shut, before you shake your head no.

"no, baby, I didn't. and you don't do anything I don't explicitly tell you to do, isn’t that right?"

you nod.

"good. now be a doll and keep those eyes open, baby. I love seeing how needy you are... that's right, I've got you in a little trance, don't I baby?"

you nod, focusing your eyes on his beautiful icy blue ones.

he chuckles. "got you in a little cock trance, yeah? come on, say it. you can say it."

"yeah..."

you hear the word in your ears, in some embarrassing rendition of your own voice.

"no, princess, come on. you know what I want to hear."

"yes, daddy."

"that's it, baby."

he kisses you then, picking up the pace of the gentle grinding of his hips between your legs. he's right: there's not a thought in your head, just him, all him.

"I want you to do something else for me," he continues, pressing soft, wet kisses all over your cheeks, your nose, your eyes...

you want to cry at how soft it is, how affectionate he's being. you love it, you love him, and you know this is all for you. everything he does is for you, to make you feel good, to help you relax.

to help you forget.

your lips part in an attempt to formulate a response, yet none comes. your whole body is so relaxed under his touch that you must have forgotten how to speak.

"did I fuck you speechless, baby?"

he must have, because once again, not a word comes to your lips to reply. he seems to forget what he planned on demanding of you as he continues, still chuckling, "I'm so proud of you, babygirl. you're doing so well for me. but what did I tell you about keeping your eyes open for me?"

huh? when did your eyes shut?

you will them to open again, slightly blurry, looking back into his.

"good job, pretty girl. you're my pretty girl, you know that?"

his pace hastens once more, causing him to let out more of those groans that you feel right in your clit.

"my pretty girl," he breathes, struggling to speak as he leans into the feeling of you underneath him, around him. "doesn't need to do a thing. needs to listen to what her daddy tells her."

fuck. "daddy, need to come," you say, and he immediately slows down, making tears well in your eyes with how badly you need it.

"my princess found her voice again? oh, baby, did I tell you you could speak?"

you stay quiet.

"no, baby, you don't need to come. I tell you what you need, isn't that right? now, can you say it, princess?"

"daddy tells me what I need," you heave all in one breath, barely conscious of what you're saying, focusing on chasing that feeling between your legs, even as he gives you less and less to work with.

"what else?"

"tells me... when to come," you make out, almost entirely incomprehensible.

"who does?"

you whine. you could even cry. you can't think of anything but his cock-

"daddy does."

"that's right, baby. see? that's all you need to know. just need to listen and say what daddy wants to hear, isn't that right, baby?"

you nod vehemently, eyes cinched painfully tight as you pray he'll give you what you need, you might go crazy otherwise...

"oh, no, baby. shhh... calm down, princess, and open your eyes. you know something? you're making it real hard for me to give you what you want. just give it up, sweet girl. stop fighting. let me tell you what you need."

you force your lungs to take deep breaths and focus on his words, not what you're feeling. listen, listen, listen...

"can you be quiet, baby? and keep your pretty eyes open for me? that's all you have to do. just listen."

you nod, and your thoughts fall away until all there is is him.

~~~

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[celtyradicalfem]

What happened at Edinburgh Rape Crisis Centre was a rape trauma victim asked Roz Adams about the biological sex of rape trauma counselors and she inquired on her behalf

Assisting rape trauma victims and acknowledging their needs and wishes is part of the job (a concept that escapes your understanding) and Roz Adams faced discrimination and a workplace tribunal in retaliation

Mridul Wadhwa was unjustly handed a the position of CEO of Edinburgh Rape Crisis Centre instead of an actual woman qualified for the position

He took offence at her legitimate inquiry on behalf of a client (the people they are meant to serve) and started a harassment campaign based on biased polices that sacrifice the safety and dignity of rape trauma victims for the feelings of men (himself included)

Cameron Downing, a sexual predator was permitted access to the rape crisis shelter under Mridul Wadhwa’s trans inclusive policy

Wadhwa has been unceremoniously fired after the scandal broke. Edinburgh Rape Crisis Centre has been forced to apologise for unprofessional behaviour and safe guarding failure

“If the most important thing to you after you've been fucking raped is whether your counsellor has a penis, you've a whole other crisis to be worried about, and it's not one a rape centre can assist you with.”

All this happened because a rape crisis centre did not follow the correct guidelines on safeguarding and serving the female rape trauma client they were entrusted to protect

In other words the trans identified male corrupted a rape crisis centre (founded by radical feminists in 1978) did not do their fuckin jobs of providing a penis free environment for rape victims to heal and allowed a sexual predator into a rape crisis centre in the name of ‘trans inclusion’

if i'm being honest one of the biggest things that peaked me was beira's place, jkr's women's crisis centre.

there was no shortage of mixed sex crisis cwntres, it would become the only single sex one in that city. you would think it would be good for social support, so the women who had no negative reaction to bio males (trans or not) could go to them, and the ones who were triggered by them could go to beira's place.

if a transwoman was truly in crisis, surely the last thing they would want was to be surrounded by women who were triggered by them due to their bio sex? surely it would be better to divert those women elsewhere so everyone could heal in peace?

but trans activists wouldn't stand any single sex crisis centre, which shows something very ugly about their cause. it isnt about helping the most vulnerable among them and women, its about punishing anyone who commits the thoughtcrime of seeing biological sex

[sexlapis]

ns4w. short fic. female!reader (no gender/pronouns mentioned). oral sex (f!receiving). fluff. petnames (‘sweetheart’)

masterlist

*

The insides of your thighs are soaked by the time you wake up.

You are met with the plain ceiling, vision blurred and distorted from…something between your legs?

They’re spread, wide open and inviting, twitching, the nerves pathed across your body buzzing in the aftermath and beginning of each and every orgasm that’s forced out of you.

This can’t have been your first one.

Goosebumps litter your arms and legs, hairs risen and nipples taut from the cool morning air. Still disoriented and weak from your abrupt awakening, you drag yourself up on your elbows and look down at the culprit.

Cecil.

This was surprise. Not only was he almost never home - always taken with the responsibilities of his job, looking after the world and his heroes - but when he was, he rarely did anything like this; pry climax after climax from your trembling body as a personal mouth-to-pussy alarm clock.

But he’s barely home, you only see him in person so many times a month and, somehow, he’s at home, in bed, in between your legs and giving you all the pleasure in the world. So you can’t complain.

“Cecil?” You croak, voice still heavy with sleep and confusion.

Why is he at home? When did he get home? It’s a weekday, so why isn’t be at work?

Such questions quickly disintegrate in your mind, fizzling away into mere afterthoughts as he disconnects his mouth from your wetness, kissing your thigh.

“Was wondering how long it’d take for you to wake up.” He soothes his big hands up and down the sides of your body, sending shivers through your core. “Been down here for ten minutes.”

You tilt your head at him, head in the clouds from your fatigue and the constant ecstasy that had been wrecking you.

“What…what are you doing here? What about..work?”

His hands are distracting, always have been - both in and outside of the bedroom - whenever they flick through paper, strike a surface out of anger, write with his pen, trace your waist when he passes you it’s like he has you in the palm of them. And now, he circles the thumbs of them at your hips, causing tiny twitches and wiggles from them.

“Day off.” He shrugs.

You then notice that he is still donning his work suit, albeit his tie is crooked and suit jacket is placed at the end of the bed. Folded. He hasn’t removed his shoes, either. He must have gotten back not too long ago, then.

You lick your lips. “That never happens.”

A ghost of a smile flitters onto Cecil’s lips.

“Quiet day.”

“…But that never-“”

“Shh.” He hushes you, kissing down from your belly button to the top of your mound. “Just don’t worry about it.”

Before you have a chance to respond, be silences you once more by fixing his mouth back where you desire the most.

A loud moan escapes you. You’re so sensitive in the morning and Cecil’s actions only exemplify it all, leaving you a melting mess on top of your bed.

His tongue moves slowly, languid, as if he’s savouring the moment, like he is a tasting a rare, fine-dine delicacy which can be found no where else. His wide tongue parts your folds, softness against softness, indulging in the flavour that is solely you, alternating between slipping his tongue inside of you, nudging his nose against your throbbing clit and flicking and licking, not sucking, at your throbbing bud.

His touch is practiced, methodical almost, knowing exactly which buttons to press how and when, how to tweak the wires at just the right angle, to flick the switches of your body, tuning you like an instrument he’s well acquainted with. And he is.

He feels so good against you, tongue working wonders on your sweet cunt, and just as the previous ones, you feel your peak building quickly, embarrassingly so, but that’s all Cecil’s fault.

You reach down, scratching at his naked head as he drives you closer and closer, higher and higher. Your thighs begin to shake.

“Ugh. Cecil. Cecil, fuck, I…please…”

He presses his tongue hard against your clit, moving his head side to side and the dam is about to break, and he knows it too, can see it in the way your face pinches, the sudden slick seeping against his tongue and the desperate grip you have on him, trying to keep him exactly where he is.

Your hips jerk up and Cecil pulls away.

Your heart jumps.

“Cecil!”

You sob at the loss of contact for only a second, then Cecil had his thumb on your bud, rubbing rapid, small circles around it quickly, soaking his thumb in the process and pushing you to a climax, your groans and whines filling the quiet of the room as you do, knotted stomach unraveling so easily against the pressure of just his thumb.

You glare down at him, salty that he removed his mouth from you. You dam yourself for being so desperate and easy.

“Cecil-“”

“Turn around.”

You furrow your brows at him, so he moves you himself, gently manhandling you onto your elbows and knees while you are too numb-limbed and cotton-brained from your numerous climaxes to do anything but to follow his movement.

Cecil pressed down on your lower back, laying right behind you, face to face with your cunt. You can feel his breath fanning on your folds as they clench around the morning air. You start to squirm. Cecil’s grip tightens.

“Keep that arch for me, sweetheart.” He places a kiss against your opening when you listen. “There you go.”

With no warning, he fastens his mouth around your swollen bud, sucking passionately, swirling his tongue with zest, pressing his face into your cunt as you do against his face, shocked and caught off guard as gasps and pants burst out of your mouth, your fingertips going red as your grip the bedsheets, eyes rolling into the back of your head as your approach you last and finale pinocle.

“Fuck! Fuck, ah! Cecil, please don’t stop, please!”

You feel him smile against your pussy. Bastard.

One of his hand leave your back, coming to pry your folds open, exposing more of your bare cunt to him as he sucks and sucks and sucks at your overstimulated nub.

Your earth shatters. Sparks light up in the corners of your vision, ringing in your ears as you cum, your high hitting your with the force of a flood, washing over your body, crashing down on your bones and leaving you wet, drenched and weak in the process, pussy weeping into his mouth as you scream into the mattress, eyes welling with tears of pleasure. Cecil keeps going, keeps fondling you with his wicked tongue, drops of your essence are running down your legs and you’re begging him to stop, reaching back and pushing his head away.

He parts, finally, a string connecting him to you in the most intimate way.

You collapse, plopping onto the mattress, reeling, still quacking from it all. You feel lips on your lower back, creating a path of kisses up to your shoulder before ending at your sweaty cheek. You grin.

“Good morning to you too.”

“Good morning.” Cecil sounds content, relaxed for once. It makes you at ease with everything in the world, that despite the destruction and harshness of the reality you must face, at least Cecil can be a normal person and live a normal life, even if it’s just for a day.

“You sound happy.”

“Of course I am.” You can hear the smile in his voice. “I just had my favourite breakfast.”

*

♡.

[mxabankzz5]

Super Rich Kids- Part 1

PARING: Nerd!KentoNanami x Popular!Reader

TAGS & WARNINGS: dark content, dubcon, bullying, mean reader (really mean), unprotected sex, virgin!nanami, experienced reader, forced kissing (once)

SUMMARY: Y/n, the school’s renowned ‘queen bee’ takes a liking to teasing the cute new nerdy transfer student. Making him her next victim.

Kento hated school. He never struggled, or had a hard time making friends. He just hated this school.

After his father began his job at a new tech company as the CEO, the family’s income began to pile up. His mother eventually quit her job to pack up and move the small family east to Minato City. Their quaint cozy home upgraded for a lavish two story residence.

Now Kento was stuck at this bougie private school full of snobbish, stuck up brats. Well that’s what he thought at least. Even so, he was no better than them, he thought. Freshly ironed button ups and pristine pressed khakis becoming his norm. But now Kento sat in the back corner of chemistry.

God he hated chemistry. Not because of the insultingly easy work, no. At the moment he hated it because of you.

There you sat, right next to him, tapping your sparkly pink pen on the lab bench, your glossed lip jutted out in a pout as you stared down at your blank worksheet. The teacher had passed it out merely minutes ago, Kento blew through it like it was nothing.

But there you sat, sighing to yourself as the irritating tap of your pen hit the desk repeatedly. It echoed through the quiet class yet no one dared to confront you.

It was an implication not to mess with the superintendent’s daughter.

As disgustingly cliche as it sounded, Kento was often told one thing when he arrived at the school. ‘Either stay on her good side or stay out of her way.’

He thought it was stupid. But who was he to not heed a warning when given it?

So he chose the latter. Deciding it would be better if he just stayed out of everyone’s way, counting down the days until graduation so he could move out and get the hell out of here.

His desire was to move to the states and study abroad to be a lawyer, then travel the world. Exploring and to different countries, learn about other cultures, try different foods, meet different people-

“Hey you.”

The voice pulled him out of his thoughts, startling him a bit as he turned to meet the person beside him.

It was you.

“Excuse me..”

Your voice was strangely soft, tone sweet as you tapped his shoulder. Your lashes long and fluttery, sending Kento in a trance as you looked at him, your perfect hair slicked up into a high ponytail that ran down your back, falling onto your shoulder as you tilted your head, frowning at him a bit- Oh shit you’re talking to him!

“Uh..y-yes?”

Kento cringed at his voice cracking, your frown softening a bit as you turned to him fully.

“You any good at this?” You ask, holding up the worksheet with a pout. Kento looks down at the worksheet, scanning over it like he didn’t already know what you were talking about. He was stalling, for God knows what.

“Oh, yeah, I guess I am…why?”

Suddenly your eyes light up with something unrecognizable, a sweet smile forming on your face. A bit too overly sweet if you asked Kento. But he wouldn’t be able to answer, too entranced as you rested your hand on his surprisingly large bicep as you spoke in the most sweetened voice.

“Think you could do it for me? I’m struggling a bit..”

‘Struggling a bit?!’ You barely even tried! Kento wanted to say. In any other scenario Kento would scoff and brush off your hand. But he remembered what that kid said. He already failed to stay out your way. Might as well stay on your good side then.

He used that as an excuse, a strange part of him wanting to help you, to wipe that cute glossy pout off your lips. The girl all these people described, the horror stories they told. They all didn’t match the face he was staring at. Your beauty clouding his judgement.

"Oh...yeah, sure I can do it..." He can’t help but blush at the touch of your hand, your freshly manicured nails tracing his sleeve making him shiver.

“Thanks.” You hand it to him, your tone suddenly more even than sweet as you get up to go talk to your friends on the other side of class.

He stares at you as you walk away, his heart pounding. He takes the worksheet and starts to work on it, trying to focus but he can't help but think about you the entire time. He keeps glancing over at you, his gaze following your every move.

He finally finishes the worksheet and looks up, seeing you still talking with your friends. He contemplates giving it to you but he decides against it, thinking it'll be too awkward for him. He simply puts it on your desk and looks away, his heart still racing from the encounter for some reason.

When the bell rings Kento quickly packs his things and rushes out of class, not wanting to face you. He walks down the hall to his locker, switching out his books.

He jumps when a locker slams open next to him, the familiar sound of pink pumps clicking on the hall floor as he heard your voice, it was loud and irritated. A complete contrast from how you sweet talked him earlier.

Kento watched through the openings of the lockers as you huffed, reapplying a coat of lipgloss as you glared at a girl that walked past.

“No I’m not going to your stupid frat party or whatever!”

A male voice was heard next to you, low and equally as irritated. “It’s not a frat party we’re my even in a fraternity!”

“I don’t care. All your friends are weird and I don’t even know them that well..”

The slam of your locker being closed echoed as you strutted past Kento, his eyes following you and the guy trailing behind you.

The rest of the day goes by in a blur, Kento can't stop thinking about your encounters. He tries to focus on his classes, but he can't help but start to daydream. When the bell finally rings, signaling lunch period, he packs up his things and leaves the classroom.

Kento walks down the hallway, entering the cafeteria, trying to find a quiet spot to eat lunch. As he's searching for a place, he spots you sitting with your friends, talking, laughing, and eating. When you catch his gaze he quickly averts his eyes, continuing to walk with his lunch tray as he spots an empty table in the corner.

“Hey you!”

He turns around, looking for the source of the voice. He sees you waving at him, gesturing for him to come over to your table. He hesitates for a moment, not expecting you to call him over. He looks around, unsure if this is a good idea or not. But he eventually decides to approach your table, holding his lunch tray in his hands.

“You’re the kid that helped me in Chemistry.” You smile, something about your current sweet nature pulling him in but also making him weary.

He nods, his heart racing as he stands there awkwardly. He can feel the eyes of your friends on him, but he tries to ignore them and focus on you.

"Yeah, that was me..."

“What’s your name?” You ask, tilting your head.

He clears his throat, feeling a bit nervous as he introduces himself. "I'm Kento Nanami."

“I’m Y/n.” You put your hand out, your smile sickeningly sweet.

He takes your hand, shaking it gently. He can't help but notice how soft your skin is, and he feels a shiver run down his spine. He tries to maintain his composure, but he's still a bit nervous

"Nice to meet you, Y/n."

Your hold on his hand doesn’t loosen, smiling up at him. “I have a question.” You say softly, your friends snickering a bit around you.

He swallows nervously, still feeling the warmth of your hand in his. He can't help but feel a little intimidated by your friends' reactions, but he tries to ignore them and focus on you.

"Uh, yeah? What is it?"

Your thumb draws circles on the back of his hand. “Do you have a girlfriend?”

He’s caught off guard by the question, his eyes widening in surprise. He looks down at the table, feeling a bit embarrassed.

"Uh, no, I don't have a girlfriend..."

You smile becomes sly as you pull him closer. “Can I be your girlfriend Kento?” Your obviously mocking

He blushes deeply, his heart pounding even faster than before. He can't believe what he's hearing, and he's not sure if you're being serious or not. He looks at you, searching your face for any sign of a joke, but he sees nothing but sincerity in your eyes.

"Y-You...you want to be my girlfriend?"

You nod, you’re friends stifling a laugh at his stuttered reply.

“Of course…you’re so cute Kento.” You run your hands up his sweater clad chest.

He can feel his face burning up as you touch his chest. He's completely flustered, not knowing how to react. He's never had a girl like you show any interest in him before, let alone touch him like this.

"I-I...uh..." He stammers, unable to form a coherent sentence.

“Aww look at that…he’s blushing.” You cup his face, my friends not being able to handle it anymore as they burst out laughing.

He’s mortified, his face turning even redder as your friends laugh at him. He feels like he's going to pass out, but he tries to maintain his composure. He looks at you, still holding his face, and can't help but feel embarrassed.

"Please...stop..."

You bite your lip, biting back your own laugh as you lean in closer, tilting your head.

“Stop what?” You tease, your tone imitating his whiny one.

He realizes that you're just messing with him and that your friends are enjoying his embarrassment. He feels a pang of anger and humiliation, but he tries to keep his cool. He gently pushes your hands away from his face, trying to put some distance between you.

"You're just teasing me, aren't you?"

You gasp dramatically, standing and holding his hand to your chest as you look up at him “What? No! You’re my boyfriend, right Kento?” You purr, pouting your lips in a mocking expression.

He feels even more flustered now, not knowing how to handle your theatrics. He looks around at your friends, who are practically rolling on the floor laughing, and he can feel his face burning with embarrassment.

"No, I'm not your boyfriend! Stop this, it's not funny!"

“You’re adorable.” You giggle, ignoring his frustration. You stare at him for a moment, suddenly, a wicked smile on your face as you suddenly kiss his cheek, walking away with your friends as you all laugh.

He stands there, stunned as you kiss his cheek and walk away. He can't believe what just happened. His face is still red, and he can hear your friends laughing even louder now. He touches the spot where you kissed him, feeling a mixture of anger, humiliation, and confusion.

[sthilarions]

(Love your headcanon, just spinning thoughts.)

I pretty much figured it was because the two of them have designated social interaction roles. What we see with Emma isn’t actually strictly Charles being blanketly better with people; it’s them being skilled with people in very different ways. Edwin’s job in client negotiation seems to be to “play hardball”.

He’s the bad cop. He’s the one assigned to demand payment, first of all, but also Emma was being fraudulent, and Charles would have had to mess with his friendly persona in order to achieve the same results that Edwin does. (He probably could; the show’s pretty clear that for the most part they can do each other’s jobs, aside from a couple things like ancient language translation and using the bag. But they have division of labor so each of them can stick to what they’re best at.)

With Emma, we see that Charles specializes in traditional social skills and making people like him; he disarms, charms, soothes, connects. Edwin specializes in playing hardball, using logic and standing his ground and cutting through people’s bullshit when necessary without care for social niceties. And I figured that what we’re seeing with the Cat King and Shelby is another aspect of Edwin’s specialization - they deploy him when you need precision or subtlety.

Even if they didn’t know yet that the Cat King was operating on something similar to Fae rules, it was pretty clear up-front that he wouldn’t respond well to either Charles’s blunt-force people-pleasing or, god forbid, Charles’s protective mode (probably the primary thing Edwin was trying to avoid, based on how the scene plays out). So they try Edwin’s precision negotiation instead. Which turns out to also not go great, but, y’know, at least no one got bopped on the head with a bat and they didn’t accidentally sign the Agency away because the Cat King asked nicely.

…but the idea of Edwin knowing Charles was dying to call the Cat King a “parasite in chief in your idiot hat” (he’s not even wearing a crown, Charles) and preempting is much more delightful 😆

I present to you a stupid thought. For all of episode 1 we have been both shown and told that Edwin is NOT the people person in the Agency. However right away in episode 2 when they're summoned by The Cat King, Edwin steps forward and insists he do the speaking in order to handle this diplomatically. It feels strange because while Charles might not be subtle as Edwin says about Shelby later, he is better at talking to people and working with them generally.

My stupid headcanon is that Edwin heard the word "King" and knew his anti-monarchy bestie would be his absolute WORST SELF so he stepped in before Charles could get himself in trouble.

[madridnoora]

౨ৎ ⋆｡˚ Forbidden - Blind Dates and Ice Packs

Eighth instalment of the forbidden au - lsu!joe x oc

Full AU masterlist here -> ౨ৎ ⋆｡˚ Forbidden

Summary: Daisy is finally forced into Bella's blind date, and Daisy and Joe's arrangement changes even further following the highly anticipated game against Ole Miss.

⋆｡˚ word count: 5.4k

A/N: Sorry this took so long to get out, I've been crazy busy but hoping to get some more parts up in the next few weeks:) Next part may be a big one!

18+ Content. MDNI :). Mentions of drinking, drug use, smoking and sex. ⋆｡˚

The conversation the morning after halloween was a simple one. The rules of the arrangements had been mutually agreed to change, only slightly.

Rule One - It remained the same, no strings and no attachments.

Rule Two - This had been abandoned, they weren't exactly doing a great job of hiding the thing between them anymore. The news of what had happened in the bathroom of the halloween party was the juiciest piece of campus gossip all year and by the following evening it had spread everywhere. Daisy was getting dirty looks from practically every girl on campus, some out of conservative disgust but most out of jealousy. The boy's had also changed the way they looked at her, she didn't like that. They would gawk, and she would shrink into her own skin once again. It made her hide away from the world, spending more time in Joe's room than on campus.

Rule Three - Daisy was still not allowed to wear the 'i'm horny' longhorns t-shirt.

Rule Four - A new one, and the most important. No physical intimacy with other people. The arrangement had become an exclusive one, it felt simpler that way. Joe wasn't bothered about having sex with other women, not when Daisy was available for him whenever he needed her. Daisy wasn't exactly wanting to pursue any other boys either. The whole agreement just felt easier if they kept it between them, and it wasn't because they were developing a forbidden attachment to each other. No. Absolutely not. This was just the best thing for them at this current moment. If they wanted to stop, they could at any time and nothing--no feelings or swelling of the heart would occur.

They lazily shook hands on it as Joe had his heavy hungover arm draped across her bare shoulder as she lay wrapped in his navy duvet. Afterwards, an awkward silence filled the room. Neither of them knowing what to say as the relationship between them went a step beyond what they ever imagined on the first night they met.

Daisy's hushed, raspy voice broke it.

'What now?' She said with her sage eyes looking so deeply in Joe's blue stare. His lips curled only minutely, a sign that he was fighting a bigger grin beneath it.

'We fuck'

-౨ৎ ⋆｡˚-

daisyymoore

autumn into winter

Liked by jjettas2, lahjay_10 and 739 others

@.cassdaviess: sweet angel girl

-> @.daisyymoore: oh i love you so

@.lahjay_10: loved that pussy!

-> @.daisyymoore: WHAT?!

-> @.lahjay_10: the pumpkin daisy jeez.

5th November 2019

It's a typical midday at the start of a Louisiana, the sun still burns in the sky but a breeze bites at Joe's skin. He sat slouched on the greyish brown wood of the campus quad picnic benches, Justin next to him and Ja'marr opposite. His foot tapped aimlessly against the concrete beneath him, his phone tilted just low enough that he was the only one who could see it. His thumb hovers over the black mirror. He's stuck on her instagram, he always is.

It was a new one, a collection of images from the past few weeks. They felt personal. Handcrafted slides that made his mind run with the idea she might have posted them just for him. The first image he had taken of her when they were in the backyard of his fraternity, a picture he snapped because the wind was dancing through her pretty hair and making her look ethereal. The second image was the pumpkin she had carved across the table from him, a post sex activity which he hadn't been able to stop thinking about. Maybe she couldn't stop thinking about it either? Joe shook away the thoughts, he didn't want to find himself getting carried away in teenage daydreams. The fourth was his fraternity on the night of Halloween, the night the agreement swapped between them. The night the air around him shifted to something heavier, something denser--a tangible emotion that he could feel pulsing against his skin.

It was the fifth image that captured his attention the most.

Her in the LSU campus gym. Flesh bare, stomach tensed, hips cocked. She knew what she was doing, and it pissed him off. He couldn't help but scroll through the list of likers and there was a lot of them. A lot of boys, a lot of college athletes. None of them would be winning the Heisman in just over a months time though, Joe still had that little confidence boost to stop his ego from denting too much. He also had the knowledge that as of almost a week ago, she was his. Just his woman to bed.

He sent her a DM--half joking, half not.

Take this down.

She replied almost instantly.

daisyymoore

Why? a lot of people liked it ;)

Joe closed his eyes and breathed in a slow breathe. She was enjoying this new exclusive thing, she liked the power it gave her to get under his skin. Daisy was aware Joe didn't like her like that, but she knew he didn't like to lose or be second place either. It was fun to toy with him.

Joe locked his phone and placed it face down on the wooden bench and tuned back into the conversation between Justin and Ja'marr. They were talking about the upcoming game against Ole Miss, a big one on the season calendar and a challenge to their undefeated streak. Wind brushed through their hair as orange leaves began to prance across the grey concrete as a symbol of November's quiet arrival and the quickness of time flying by. He heard the clicking and clacking of some heeled shoes and he braced for who it could be. Three college football players sitting at a bench, one woman approaching--it could be a shit show for any of them. Ex lover? One night hook up? No. Thank God.

Cassie slid into the seat beside Ja'marr with a bright grin.

'Hey guys' Her voice was high pitched, full of bubbly energy which the boys failed to match after an intense morning practise. A grumbled mesh of greetings tumbled from their mouths but Cassie didn't let it discourage her.

'How's everyones day going?' Her brights eyes flickered between the three players that slouched on the bench.

'Good, Cass' Ja'marr smiled.

'You never speak to us alone, what do you want?' Justin cuts in straight after, reading his friend like an open book. Cassie's face falters at his bold words but once again she doesn't let it faze her. She was here for a reason and she had spent the past few days building up the confidence to ask them.

'Okay--Okay' She picked at her baby pink acrylic nails, nerves clearly danced, itching at her gentle skin.

'It's Daisy's birthday in two weeks and we're going to Miami--just for a weekend--and I was wondering, if--if maybe you guys wanted to come?' Her words are shy, like halfway through she realised it may not have been the smartest idea. But once the words were out it was too late, and she enjoyed spending time with Justin and Ja'marr, plus Daisy was now exclusive with Joe and she needed to get birthday sex somehow.

'It's her birthday' Joe let's his shocked words slip from his lips. She had never mentioned. That seemed like something she would have mentioned if she wanted him to be there.

'I'm in' Justin says.

'Yeah, fuck it, I'll go to Miami' Ja'marr also agreed.

Cassie beamed a smile, showing off her perfect white teeth. Then waited for Joe to say something, but he was still processing the fact that Daisy hadn't told him about her birthday.

'It's a surprise. She doesn't know. She doesn't like celebrating her birthday really' She tried to reassure him, tried to manipulate him into saying yes.

'Yeah, I guess if i'm free' Joe says cooly. Cassie excitedly claps her hands together at the fact her idea was coming together.

'Can you tell her to come over tonight' Joe cut her celebrations short. His words not a request but a command, his voice stern like Cassie didn't have the option to say no. Daisy hadn't been to Joe's in the past two nights, and his bed was beginning to feel the sweet pain of withdrawal symptoms. She was too busy studying and writing politics essays too come over for even a quickie, even when Joe was borderline begging over the phone last night.

'Ermmm--ha, she can't tonight' Cassie sounded almost scared and that made Joe nervous. The blonde lifted up her hand and scratched the back of her neck as a feeling of awkwardness hung thickly over the picnic table.

'Why?' Joe's voice was low and rough.

Cassie knew she shouldn't break, she knew she was under strict instructions to not let any of the three boys at the table know but under the intense heat of their pointed stares she founder her self crumbling like a poorly baked chocolate chip cookie.

'I ca-can't' She choked out, her throat all of a sudden drying up.

'What is it, Cass?' Ja'marr joined in, his own voice low and intimidating but a playful look on his sculpted face.

'Bella set her up on a blind date. She's meeting him tonight'

Her voice was small. Her lips pushing out a secret she shouldn't have spilled. Once again, she couldn't bring them back into her mind and they had to sit lingering like a storm cloud in the space around Joe's head.

'Whose him?' His words almost come out like a growl, but it's clear he has made some effort to refrain himself. His blonde brows furrow across his strong brow bone. His blue eyes dark and icy. It makes a chill crawl up Cassie's back and her cheeks flush red. She never liked feeling in trouble, and that's how she felt right now. She shrunk back in the bench, her shoulder folding in as she made herself look as small as she felt under the quarterbacks spat question.

'Just a guy Bella knows--I'm really not sure Joe. It's a blind date'

Joe stretched out his neck with a clenched jaw. This wasn't explicitly against the rules, as long as there was no physical intimacy Daisy wouldn't be doing anything wrong. Did he trust that she wouldn't? He wasn't sure. He hadn't had to put his trust in a girl for a very long time, so long he forgot how intense the feeling was. Trust was a fickle thing in the hands of the wrong person.

'She doesn't want to go, if-, if that makes it sting less' Cassie said with a tight lipped smile, a look of sympathy on her face.

'It doesn't sting' His words come out too quick, too sharp. Completely unbelievable to those around him, but Joe believed them. He believed the subtle numbness that clawed at his beating heart was because of his desire to always be number one, his hatred for feeling second best. He still thought he was in control, but slowly he was beginning to realise that when it came to Daisy Moore control didn't exist.

She doesn't want to go. Joe repeated it over and over in his head but if that was the truth why was she going. He didn't believe it. Daisy was too strong of a woman to go somewhere she didn't truly want too. five days. five days since the agreement between them changed and she was going on a date. Was five days all it took for her too realise she made a mistake with him?

Joe got up from the table, not saying another word. Leaving his friends behind as he made hast for the bed sheets that still smelt of her. Sweet peonies and jasmine. Always the same perfume and it lingered in room like gentle pecks of his plump lips.

Tonight, she would wear that scent for another man.

and Joe couldn't do anything to stop her. Or could he?

-౨ৎ ⋆｡˚-

Daisy wasn't the type to do blind dates. She had avoided them at all costs, but Bella had given her no choice--springing the date on her on the same day it was happening. The boy, Matthew, had already planned the whole thing and had been telling her how excited he was to go on the date. Daisy couldn't stand him up, she thought about it, but every time the image of a lonely boy sat eating alone in an overpriced restaurant would cloud her mind. A pang of sadness would rattle through her ribs and she knew she couldn't do it.

So here she sat across from a nice boy with sweeping brunette curls and kind hazel eyes, eating her main course in a restaurant just outside of Baton Rouge that tried to hard to look like it wasn't trying at all. The lighting around them was dim in a deliberately warming way -- cream candles with an amber flame flickered in the centre, filling the space between them. The walls were a deep red colour filled with black and white framed portraits of people who had visited, or perhaps they were just stock images taken from the internet. Daisy didn't pay enough attention to them to know the definite answer. The bar behind them was stretched long and brass-trimmed, almost industrial looking. A low humble jazz beat played out quietly around them and the other filled tables.

The blind date was going quite pleasantly. Daisy even found herself laughing a couple of times. Matthew's company wasn't something she hated and as much as it pained her to admit, Bella had picked someone who matched her pretty well. She could see them being friends. Nothing more. She was already in a complicated enough situation with Joe and she didn't need to bring a guy like Matthew into something like that. Matthew knew it too, the date was going well but they lacked the initial spark all future lovers have. But, they could still have a good time.

Daisy listened to Matthew's stories as she tapped her fingers against the drink in her hand when she felt a buzz vibrate on the table. Her phone. Not Matthew's. She let out a hushed sorry before quickly glancing at it.

Joe

how's that date going

Daisy rolled her eyes, she knew he knew because Cassie came back to the dorm in a frantic state and acting as if she had just committed the greatest betrayal in the history of the universe. Daisy was expecting these messages, she just assumed they would start halfway through the first course rather than the second. He outlasted her expectations.

She gave a quick reply before putting her phone face down on the table.

Daisy

it's fine

It was five minutes later when her phone buzzed again and this time she was thankful Matthew had just gotten up to go to the bathroom so she could respond without feeling guilty.

Joe

that bad?

Daisy

it isn't bad, he's sweet.

Joe

if you wanted sweet you wouldn't be fucking me.

speaking of,

you coming straight over to me after it's over?

Daisy scoffed. Joe's arrogance was hiding his insecurity and she knew that, but she was in no mood to argue. She also wanted to be back in his bed sheets. It had been a few days now and her body missed him. It missed the way he made her body feel. All that pleasure. She breathed away the heat that pricked over skin, she shouldn't be thinking about Joe and the thing he could do while waiting for another man to come back to the table.

Daisy

yes joey.

Joe

then end it. quickly.

Daisy couldn't reply as Matthew entered her peripheral vision. A cheery grin on his almost golden skin. She hated that he was so nice. It was going to make what she had to do next so much more painful. Once he sat, she got right to it. then end it quickly, Joe's message was all she could think about.

'I'm so sorry, I'm feeling quite faint. I think it's something I ate' She began, then gave the acting performance of her life. Within ten minutes she was out the restaurant and in an uber to Joe's place. She didn't tell him that, she didn't send Joe a text that she was on her way over. Did she want to surprise him? No. Did she want to see the light in his eyes as he locked his eyes on her, the way his cheeks bunched up and the corners of his eyes crinkled? No, of course not. Did she want the feel the rush of warmth that pooled in her stomach and rushed over every muscle in her body? Maybe she did.

She rushed out the Uber, slamming the door and borderline running to the heavy set doors of the fraternity. It was Wednesday night and that meant there was a chance all the fraternity brothers would be lingering around, they would see her as she dashed up the stairs and too his room. She didn't care. She didn't even think about that.

She pushed her way through, ignoring everyone she past. She was being quick, just like he had instructed.

She didn't bother to knock.

She spent so much time there, the room almost felt like her own these days.

She walked in, casually. Not wanting him to know how much effort she had put into getting here. The light panting of her ragged breath let him know though. And he loved that.

Joe was laying on his bed shirtless, his blonde hair messy and a muscular arm behind his bed as he scrolled on his phone, but he dropped it when the door of his bedroom opened and closed.

and there she was.

His Daisy.

He couldn't help but like the way that sounded in his head, even though he knew he shouldn't.

His eyes watched her. Her cheeks were tinted pink from the cold night, or maybe the wine she had drank. He could tell it was red because her lips were stained like cherries. Her long hair was wavy and windswept, small strands lay around her face messily like they always did when she stopped caring about what it looked like. Her heels were held in her hand beside her. Her dress was short but not too tight, a simple sleek navy colour and made of a silk material. Silver jewellery decorated her bare arms and a strange pang his Joe's chest. She had made an effort for the guy. He could see that. Daisy always makes an effort. Joe's own voice of reason reassured him.

'You wore that for another guy' Joe can't help but make a childish jab, but it makes Daisy smile. It makes her feel comfortable. She placed her shoes down in the corner of the room, next to his training back like she usually did. Joe didn't even realise he started leaving a space there for her. Then she crawled into his bed, taking her place under the arm he had behind his head. Her bare shoulders touching his bare chest. The connection is stinging them both, but neither of them realise it.

Joe looked over her face. Her eyeliner was smudged ever so slightly at the corners, her lip liner was worn off and there were crease lines under her eyes. The guy had made her laugh--many times. Joe could tell. He knew the worn lip liner was from the food and not the guys lips. It was unspoken, and he didn't have to ask. Trust. Not such a fickle thing this evening. He relaxed and let his arm drop around her shoulders, not too tightly, just lazily. His thumb lightly brushed her skin in little circles. She moved closer.

Then she told him all about it, and Joe didn't even mind. In fact, he quite enjoyed hearing about her night and how she had actually had a pretty good time. The guy, Matthew, had treated her well but there was nothing more. Joe felt relieved at that.

Then as the night went on, she stripped down and so did he. Gentle, lazy and tired sex consumed them before them found themselves asleep next to each other like usual.

Daisy didn't leave Joe's place much for the next nine days, only ever to go to class or grab some clothes from her dorm. She liked it there, and Joe liked having her around. They weren't friends, but they were something.

She still never mentioned her birthday to him. and that, for some unexplainable reason, made him feel like shit.

-౨ৎ ⋆｡˚-

Ole Miss.

It was a big game.

and since finding out that Justin was leaving college after this year, Daisy realised she needed to start watching him play. So here she was, alongside Cassie and Bella in the packed stands of Death Valley. A white jersey with Jefferson across the back sat across her torso. Joe might flip. At least Bella had said he would. Cassie said he might. Daisy wasn't really even thinking about it. Justin is Joe's friend, surely his jealousy wasn't so shallow.

But when he spotted her in the crowd, sitting where she had told him she was going to sit and he saw that the number on the jersey was not his, all he could do was shake his head. His featured freezing over with a coldness she wasn't used to seeing from him. She almost ripped the cloth from her skin and threw it in the bin. Guilt clawing at her throat. If they lose tonight it's my fault, she told herself over and over. She didn't pray often, but she did in that moment. Her hand clasped together in front of her.

'Please God, let him win' She whispered so that Bella and Cassie couldn't hear her. Not that they would be able to over the noise of the student crowd.

The air was electric, thick with a humid southern heat and the kind of noise that made your bones hum deep beneath your flesh. Purple and white lights lit up the stadium, pockets of red clashing against them as the Ole Miss supporters filled in some seats. Daisy liked it, inside stadiums. She had many years of practice.

When the game began, her eyes could only focus on Joe. She tried to keep glancing at Justin but it was like they were magnetised on number nine. He looked unreal from where she stood, not just talented--but almost mythical. The white of his jersey clung to him in sharp creases and sweat. His long fingers flexed around the laces of the ball like it was part of him, a simple extension of his arm. A biological piece of his body. Every moment was like he was firing a dart at a board and hitting bullseye every time. Such poise even under the pressure.

She couldn't help herself. Somewhere in the middle of the noise around them, she joined in on the constant screaming of his name with the strangers who didn't know him the way she did. This all felt familiar, she had done this with Lucas but them thoughts didn't control her mind the way she thought they would have. He was merely a passing thought like came and went within seconds. Then Joe would replace them. Was that good or bad? She couldn't tell, but she didn't let herself dwell on it.

He scored his own touchdown at one point. He didn't look for her though. Of course he didn't. He was so beyond pissed, but at least they weren't losing. At least that wouldn't be her fault.

After halftime, something happened.

The play only took seconds, but to Daisy, it was like watching a car crash in slow motion. Joe was going down, but the Ole Miss linebacker didn't care. A cheap shot. A wrecking ball with a grudge, helmet low, and his padded shoulders square with a raging tension.

The hit was bone deep, the noise of it seemed to silence the stadium or maybe that was just in Daisy's head. People around her gasped, and outrage began to pour in from the LSU fans. Joe met the hard ground with a terrifying force, his body bouncing almost limply. His helmet bouncing against the floor.

Was he moving?

Daisy's blood ran cold. She clutched at her chest with an open jaw. Shock overtook every fibre of her being. She stood on her tiptoes trying to get the best view of what was happening. They weren't showing him on the screen. That was a bad sign.

Tiptoes wasn't enough.

She pushed through the crowd and made her way the front of the stands. Her usually delicate fingers gripped onto the cold white railing with a terror filled force. She could see him, he was writhing around on the floor in pain, but at least he was moving. Medics rushed over to him. Ole Miss and LSU players clashed against each other, she saw Ja'marr getting in one of the red jersey's faces but she couldn't pay that much attention. She, in this moment, only cared about Joe.

She watched as a medic helped him sit up. His movements more careful and slow than she was used to seeing, like every inch of his body hurt. Like air was stripped away from his lungs and his ribs filled with a excruciating pain as he tried to pull himself together. She watched his slow breaths in and out. She wished she could gift him more oxygen.

Joe pulled his helmet off. His red flushed face and messy hair exposed for the crowd to see. No blood. That was a good sign. Daisy let out the faintest breath, like it was too soon for her to fully relax. Joe looked around, taking sips of water as he gained some of the strength that had been knocked out of him back.

and then--somehow--he found her.

Daisy didn't know if he was trying too. She wasn't in the original spot he knew she was sitting at, and yet somehow, even a hundred yards away, he still found her. The stands around her were a blur of purple and gold, thousands of people clapping and chanting his name. When they met each others eyes, it felt like that all faded away.

Joe saw her there, gripping onto the railing like it was her only lifeline. The concern on her face rattled him more than the tackle had. It was enough to make him forgive her for the stupid fucking jersey she was wearing. stupid. fucking. jersey. He shook away that jealousy, and instead he clenched his jaw but softened his gaze. He gave Daisy a nod, the reassurance she needed that he was okay.

a silent don't worry about me across a green football field.

Daisy let her breathes free, and the grip on the railing loosen. She watched from that spot for a few more minutes, then she went back to her seat. Joe went back to the huddle like nothing had happened.

But something had.

Something between them.

After they won the game, Daisy had still been expecting Joe to ice her out so it was surprising when he swaggered over to where she had been standing by the railing during the match. It surprised her even more when he waved her to come down and speak to him.

'You scared me' She told him. She had to get it off her chest. Joe held his hands hooked on the front of his padding making his biceps look oh so deliciously big. His hair was a mess but Daisy liked that, it made him look manly. He cocked his head back with an air of arrogance and looked into her big green eyes, ones which seemed to glow even brighter under the stadium lights. His skin was glowy and sticky with sweat and effort.

'Payback for that stupid fuckin' jersey' He chirped, the corner of his mouth curling into a smirk. For the first time, it really seemed like Joe didn't care who was watching. Media was here, fans were listening in but he wasn't paying them any attention. All his focus was on Daisy.

'Justin's just a friend you know' Daisy's response wasn't joking, it was serious. Like she needed to make sure Joe understood that, to put an end to this weird tension that seemed to be brewing between the teammates.

'I know, doesn't mean I like it though' Joe shrugged with an unapologetic truth slipping through his cracked lips. Daisy could only nod, stumped as to how she could reply to his honesty. Joe didn't give her the chance too.

'You coming back with me, I need someone to ice my ribs' That smug smirk drew back across his face. Daisy laughed, like an actual laugh before nodding her head with her bottom lip pulled between her teeth. A subtle blush rising onto her cheeks.

-౨ৎ ⋆｡˚-

The bathroom light buzzed overhead, casting a dull yellow glow that made everything around them seem so warm and comforting--even the chipped tile and toothbrush stains on the mirror. Joe's boxers and dirty clothes laid out on the floor from when he hasn't put them in the laundry basket.

Joe stood shirtless in front of the skin, his sweatpants dangerously low on his hips and his arms stretched up as he assessed the damage of the forming bruises that scattered all across his back and torso. It was the hardest hit he had ever taken. Some light swelling surrounded his ribs, the medic said he needed rest but he should be okay for the next game in two weeks.

Daisy quietly came in the door behind him, carrying a ziploc bag filled with ice and a weary look on her face as she took in his bruising. Joe met her weary eyes in the stained mirror. She was in his LSU hoodie that was three sized too big, her face bare and her hair pulled back from her face in a low bun. She was unfairly beautiful, and very tired.

'I can do it' Joe told her.

She shook him off. 'I want too.'

She took a step closer, moving to be in front of him. The air between them was so quiet. She gently grazed her fingers over the bruising, Joe jolted -- not in pain, just at the feeling of her caress. When she carefully pushed the ice pack to his skin, he winced.

'Stay still.' She told him.

This was the most intimate thing they had done. Joe knew it. Daisy knew it. The air around them knew it too. Both of their hearts pounding in their chests as they did something so close. Both their guards fully lowered to the ground, they never did that. They never let each other in this much.

Joe looked down to her -- at the way she was chewing on her plump baby pink lips in a deep concentration, like she was scared she was going to break him. Her hands were steady, but he could feel just how tense she was. She was trying to tell herself this didn't mean anything, but they both knew it did.

'I'll be okay' Joe's words come out quieter than he wants, so soft and endearing unintentionally.

'I didn't like watching that happen to you.' Her own words came out in a stark rawness.

He reached out and brushed a stray hair behind her ear before he could realised the intimacy of the action, Daisy froze moving the ice pack back from his torso in shock. Joe committed to his action, letting his hand cup the soft cheeks of her face.

'I imagine you felt the way I felt when I got that call from you in the bathroom stall'

'I don't know, you'd have to tell me how that made you feel Joe' Her response startled him, she was asking him to tell her how he felt. What are we? but in a different font and that scared him. He dropped his hand from her cheek and looked away back into the mirror. Daisy placed the ice back on his bare skin. She knew he wouldn't answer her. She wouldn't have answered him either.

Some things were best left lingering in blissful ignorance.

[bettystonewell]

The Things He Carries, We Carry

Read on AO3 || Main Masterlist

Sam Winchester x Reader Dean’s given up on a cure for the Mark, and Sam will stop at nothing to help him, including not taking care of himself. But that’s okay, because that’s where you come in. 2k words

Warnings: Smut - hand job MDNI 18+ Only

AN: This was intended to be part of my Couple Things series, a sweet make-out session during research, but things turned smutty/serious, and it became a nod to the reader in Perfect

The pen drops, rolls and whirls over the notepad. It’s the only sound louder than the general hum that comes from the bunker late at night. Whatever technological advances Gas-N-Sip has made on their top-notch, dollar ninety-nine pack of twenties clicks as it escapes to the depths of the wooden floorboards below. 

There’s no shattering of glass or cantankerous outbursts of metal. No jumps or leaps from its owner, Sam, who rather palms himself in the face. 

He drags his fingers over his flustered cheeks. Pulls his mug taut and streaks his complexion down the middle. 

He’s been at it for hours. A few after his run. A few more after breakfast. So on and so forth for coffee breaks, lunch and dinner. If Dean hadn’t lost to rock, paper scissors and thus forced to get that pizza himself, Sam would’ve starved. Or got drunk on the beer he’s drinking. 

It’s unlike him to binge so much, yet here he is, four empty bottles before him, and here you are watching him as he stresses over his brother and the mark; stressing, knowing he watches Cain’s gift leave more than one. It’s a vicious cycle.

He sounds more like Dean when he says, “Why’re you looking at me like that?” His fingers and thumb move to his temples, churning his forehead, making swirls of white, then red marks where the pressure has been. 

“I’m just worried, is all. You planning to go to bed anytime soon?” Your brow raises with thoughts of your shared room and the double entendre your boyfriend is always slow to understand.  

It’d be nice to climb in under the covers together for a change. Fall asleep with his arms wrapped around you and wake up with them still there. Hell, you’ll be the big spoon if you have to. A sloth, a koala, a spider-monkey? (Google that when you get the chance.) Right now, though, you’d do anything for the man sitting across the table from you. He’d do the same for you, too. Has done plenty. 

But he’s so rapt in finding a cure for Dean that he’s forgotten to take care of himself. The runs. The diet. They’re all pre-programmed. Habits. Healthy ones, but muscle-memorised just the same.

“You go,” he says with a throat-clear and a forced smile. The lick of his lips betrays him, though, and heat pools between your legs with no intention from him or you.

He scoops his lanky arm down for his pen, picks it up and brings his hands straight back to the keyboard and types. Swipes and taps the trackpad, again, again, and again.

“Sam.” You have a way of making his short name shorter. You force the chair legs backward, scrape the wood on wood, obnoxious and slow. 

Sam’s eyes flicker behind the computer. Light highlights the blue rims of the amber as you saunter between the gap, but he doesn’t move. His elbows keep his arms in L-shapes across the wooden table. Flannel rolled into their creases show smooth skin and lean muscle below, and yours sweep over them. Loop ‘round his shoulder and up past his side. 

Your chin swoops in, too. Down to capture his cheek. You’d focus on the screen before you, but you’d need to face the thoughts that gnaw away at you every passing hour. 

If Dean doesn’t care, why should you?  

“You’ve been at this all day,” you say. “At least give your eyes a break. Take a walk around. Eat something.” 

You lean further into him and reach for the bottle. Swirl what’s left of the brew and go in for a taste. 

You spit it right back out. It’s stale and warm, brings new meaning to “on the piss” and “tasteless”. 

Sam’s dimples bring a grin that spreads into his gaze. 

“I dunno how you drink this stuff.” The glass thunks down on the table. Your little finger skims the surface of the water ring and wets his other cheek.

“Yeah, well,” he says and grabs your hand. Pulls it down closer to his chest. “I don’t know why you keep trying it.” His fingers rap your palm. Thumb smooths over your knuckles. 

“They say you have to try something twenty times.” You chuckle. Something your mom once told you. ‘Course, it was a ploy to have you eating vegetables. She’d roll in her grave knowing you were using her principle for booze.

“You, ah, you wanna wine instead?” he offers, and you know he’ll get it for you. One simple look is all he needs.

“I’d rather get you to bed.” 

He huffs through his nose. Speckled amber flits between your eyes and lips.

But before he can argue or give an excuse for however many minutes more, your kiss takes those words away from him. 

His tongue. His taste. Yeast and fruity from the beer. Tart. Doughy. Fresh basil and a nip of garlic. A nip and a nibble from him, too. 

There’s an explosion. And a wet smack when you part for a split second, but then he dips and swipes further than he has of recent, and soon his chair is scraping, encouraged by your tug, and you’re squeezing into the gap he’s made between the table.

Your fingers tangle into his hair. Tips and nail scrape through his scalp, earning you another peck and then another. 

His expansive hands trace up your spine, anchoring you to him and him to his seat when you settle in his lap. His stomach muscles tighten next to yours when you scoot in closer again against his fly. 

He hums and spreads his legs. Slumps down and raises you further up till he’s arching and you’re hovering over him. 

“So, can I tempt you?” You cup his chin between finger and thumb; rolling your hips, making him groan. “Dean’s in his room. Don’t even have to leave this seat,” you further say, but you’re regretting the ambition in your tone when his grip on you loosens. Whatever flame you had built fizzles out as fast as it came. 

Sam’s head drops and your fingers do, too, smoothing the buttons of his flannel, ironing the creases like you’re ironing out any and every knot in his chain of thoughts.

“Guess I haven’t really been here, huh?” 

All movement, what lack there of, jerks to a stop. The last thing you want is to make him feel guilty. This is supposed to be about taking care of him and his needs. All work and no play make for an unhealthy little Sam who’s grown an inch or two and twitches with interest below you.

You were being considerate.

“You’re worried ‘bout him. We all are,” you say. It’s just not what you want to.

Not really.

Least not now.

“He isn’t.” And there’s the biggest knot. The penny dropping deep into the mangle of a mess Dean has created for himself this time. “He’s given up.”

Your gaze finds his amber again. Not only are they now surrounded by blue, they’d be swimming in an ocean if tears went deep enough, and shit. You’re a terrible person. One at a loss for what to do. 

He’s serious. Dean has given up, and it’s the real deal. No halfway house, no April Fool’s. No whiplash from a man who complains his own brother has the emotional range of a teenage girl. No. He’s sat himself in the electric chair, pulled the switch, and let the hairs on his head singe and smoke already. Yet Sam will try to save him. Dean believes he won’t. 

It’s confusing. It’s a mess. You’d roll your eyes at their stupidity, but seeing Sam defeated, hold them in place, and what do you say to all that?

You pull your lip between your teeth. It’s better than saying something you’ll definitely regret. And when Sam licks his again in return? Your vision flits around the space between you. Your core feels the heat and the hardness, and you’re dipping back to capture that now moistened pout.

Yeah, a terrible person, but you’re making him forget, even if it is seven minutes of heaven. Or two with how long it’s been.

You roll your hips again, and his muffled groan bubbles into the kiss. 

Heated. Intense. His hands grip your waist like one would a lifeboat, carrying him back to shore, grinding you down. They’re pulling you this way and that, and yours grips his shirt where you can, on your descent, holding on to him for fear of him or you floating away. You’re not sure which. 

“Sam.” Your lips curl against his between presses. “Big Boy.” Your fingers work his buckle, like the night you met. He needed distracting back then, too, but back then he was the one susceptible to the supernatural. You just didn’t know it. Could only feel it in the strain of his shoulders.

You shuffle backward, giving you the space to open him to you, and he doesn’t protest. Even when you wait for the two flares of his nostrils, his large palms land on your thighs and glide up to your hips and squeeze, and it’s all the encouragement you need. 

You take your prize and bring it to the surface, give a slow pump and release the kiss to spit into your free hand.

He’s already warm and heavy. Woken up to half mast, but your shallow movements stroke him to attention. 

“Baby,” he says. More like pants, huffs, and it’s delectable. Music to your ears. Perfect in the way he melts into your touch, twitching in your hand and below his shirt. “We—”

“Too late to move, Winchester.” Any further protest, you swallow down your throat. 

Your tongue sweeps his while your palm does similar down below to his tip, swirling the clear drizzle oozing from his slit, applying pressure. Doing the same to the base, scraping the snail trail that travels his lack of paunch with your pinky.

He needs this. Hell, you need him, but there’s just something about the soft grunts and continual squeezes that satiates any longing you feel for the man beneath you. 

There’s gonna be a mess. There’s gonna be real hell to pay if Dean decides to wander the bunkers halls anytime soon, but for all the grief he’s given Sam, he can suffer the lack of doors and socks around. 

The way Sam’s hardened flesh throbs and the way the velvety skin slides under your dainty hands. The sounds made as they reach the head and drop back down fuel you on. Ignites the same fire in your belly from before. Brings with it a simple pleasure that touch alone can’t grant.

Sam’s frustrations are your frustrations. His relief, his release — it’s yours. And when you feel the drawback, the tug, the way he pushes against your hand, you work him harder. Find his lips and stifle the groan. Take all the pain and torment, and will the few seconds of euphoria that pull him to you, and your name on his breath. 

Time stands still. The bunker is quiet, and even the buzzing of machines that line the war room are exempt from the space you’ve made between Sam and you. 

It’s electric. The hairs on your limbs stand tall. Static could crackle, and it does, when Sam looks into your eyes. It dives into your chest and warms you from within; his spend warms your knuckles on the outside.

It’s sticky, hot as fuck, and it only makes the tingles in your gut travel to your toes and fingertips.

“Thanks,” he says, in that way he does, like what you’ve done is a favour and not something out of love. 

It’s cute. It’s a little annoying, but the endearing quality overrides all else.

“I’ll let you return the favour.” You wag your brow and his grin spreads from ear to ear. 

You’re poking the dimple on his right side and tapping his cheek with your cleaner hand, pulling him back in for a kiss where you stay. 

A sloth? A koala? A spider-monkey? (You’ve still gotta Google it.) But for now, you’re his anchor. As he, yours.

Tags: @yeehawgiddyup13 @mostlymarvelgirl @ambiguous-avery @jollyhunter

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[ceruark]

campus crush, pt. 2

synopsis: blue lock boys as crushes you’d develop at university! [ft. isagi yoichi, itoshi rin, and michael kaiser (pt. 2)] (pt. 1 here) words: 2.6k notes: gn! reader. a/n: thank you to everyone who supported part 1! let me know who else you'd like to see for this series :>

kaiser pt. 2 req taglist: @lizzzmm @mochiii-sama @anyaslittlepeanut rin req taglist: @levihanmyotp @ieathairs

isagi yoichi - lab partner

general education courses are the bane of your existence. wasn’t that high school’s job? why should you be forced to pay to take a class you have absolutely no interest in when you could be putting your time to good use pursuing what you love instead?

whether it’s as a gen ed course or a prereq for your major, you somehow find yourself in a chemistry class that, of course, starts at the crack of dawn (8 a.m.). you go into the class fearing for your life; you’ve heard horror stories from your friends about their own lab partners who would skip the lab period, slack off, and push all the work onto them while reaping the benefits of earning the same grade.

fortunately for you, your lab partner is nothing like that. isagi is the epitome of politeness, and as the semester goes on, you find him to be super sweet and extremely competent— at times, you find yourself feeling bad because he picks up the material much faster than you and sometimes ends up doing the brunt of the work. he always brushes off your apologies, saying that he doesn’t mind at all and that you’re plenty helpful during lab.

it’s extremely easy for you to get comfortable around isagi. his kindness is so genuine that it’s easy to fall into a real friendship with him. you end up grabbing lunch with him after lab every week, waving to him when you pass each other on campus, and even texting him about things other than your shared class, and soon enough, you find yourself mentioning him more frequently in conversation. you start talking about him so much that your friends start teasing you about having a crush on him, which you vehemently deny despite the blush that paints your cheeks bright red.

it’s around midterms when their casual teasing becomes far more serious, though, when two of your friends get out of class early one day and decide to sit with you and isagi at lunch. unintentionally, isagi is a social butterfly and hits it off with your friends immediately, who are just as charmed by his warm nature as you are.

“that’s boyfriend material manifest,” your friend says the second he’s out of earshot, “you better get on that, and fast.”

you spend the next couple of weeks continuing to spend time with isagi outside of class whenever you can, and skirting around your friends’ accusations of a crush. isagi is sweet, very much so, but it’s simply just not like that. besides, sometimes you worry that he’s a little too nice. you’re plenty capable of taking care of yourself, but it might be nice to have a boyfriend who can bite back on your behalf.

your doubts go up in smoke one day when you walk into lab a few minutes later than usual, only to see a tall blonde standing next to isagi at your shared workstation. you can’t see the stranger’s face, but you can see isagi’s: lips pulled down into a mean sneer, eyes blazing as he fires out insult after excruciating insult, exposing you to some of his more… colorful vocabulary. you feel yourself blush despite yourself, trying to crush the butterflies in your stomach.

it’s— well, it’s hot, to be quite honest.

you’re not really able to act normally around him after that. the feelings you’d been denying and suppressing have now arisen completely, refusing to be stamped down. you’re a blushing mess around him and, despite your best efforts, are now acting like a shy, awkward schoolgirl around a guy you’ve been casually talking to for months now. that would be embarrassing enough by itself, but everything is made worse by the fact that isagi isn’t stupid, and he’s able to pick up on your shift behavior and the likely feelings behind it—which, of course, leaves him a blushing, stuttering mess as well.

you’re wallowing in frustration over your helplessness, slouched over the workstation with your head in your hands before lab starts, when you hear something being placed down in front of you.

you look up, surprised. a box from a popular bakery near campus sits in front of you. you lift your head further and lock eyes with isagi, who is flushed red—from nerves or the late spring heat, you can’t tell, but you can appreciate the way his tank top shows off the toned arms you’ve rarely gotten to see in time’s past.

he scratches the back of his neck sheepishly, clearly riddled with nerves, yet you can see the determination in his eyes, which he refuses to avert away from yours.

“the first showing of this semester’s play is this saturday,” isagi says, fidgeting a bit with the hem of his sleeves. “i was wondering if, uh, you’d like to go with me? and maybe get dinner before that? if you’re available, of course.”

you lift the lid of the bakery box. inside is a cupcake of your favorite flavor, which you had offhandedly mentioned to isagi in conversation once.

you smile up at him softly. “of course,” you say, “i’d like that.”

you both stay like that for a moment, smiling shyly at each other, until the professor walks in and loudly asks isagi to take his seat. 

the fanfare your friend group chat meets the news of your date with does little to distract you from the side glances and sweet smiles he shoots you throughout the period.

itoshi rin - library worker

you seriously regret taking this literature course.

you’re just taking it to fulfill a requirement. it’s supposed to be a low-stress class; you’d done your research, and the professor was very lax, making the course an easy A so long as you were competent in stringing together an argument and structuring an essay. the only thing that gave you some pause was the fact that there was a research component to it, but a friend who had taken the course told you that it wasn’t anything super intense or difficult, so you went ahead and signed up for the course.

and it’s been fine the whole semester. the assignments haven’t been stressful at all, and the professor is incredibly funny and kind. it’s everything you could have asked for in a class. but things have taken a turn since midterms hit, which is when you had to start pulling together an outline for your final research paper. you have free range over the topic, and you’ve settled on exploring victorian gothic literature, so it’s not the paper itself that’s giving you grief, either.

no, it’s the damn student worker stationed in the library who’s been giving you your daily dose of migraines these days.

of course you know of itoshi rin; he and his brother are notorious on campus for their beauty yet cold personalities that leave them “untouchable.” your friends have fawned over the younger one more than once, given that he’s the same year as you all. you can admit that both brothers were attractive—you’d either be a liar or a contrarian to say otherwise—but you never really understood openly gushing over them when they could both be quite rude.

and now that you’ve actually interacted with rin, you are firm in your belief that the itoshi brothers are overrated and undeserving of their many admirers. 

rin glaring at you when you approached the reception desk was enough on its own to rub you the wrong way—god forbid you ask a man to do his job. and then, when you asked him to point you in the direction of the section related to your research topic, he sighed under his breath like you were inconveniencing him and told you the approximate location of what you were looking for in a deadpan voice that still somehow managed to come across as condescending.

it only escalates from there. he seems to always be on the clock whenever you have time to stop by the library to pick up books you checked out, and the cool glare he greets you with always manages to get under your skin. 

it’s as you’re checking out a copy of wuthering heights and returning a copy of dracula that he says, “your picks are very basic.”

your eye twitches. this is the first time he’s spoken a word to you outside of what his job requires him to say, and of course, it’s something that pisses you off. 

“they’re classics for a reason,” you respond easily, feigning nonchalance.

rin gives a noncommittal shrug, but you can feel the condescension in his gaze as he hands you the book, grating on your nerves. 

next time, you request a copy of the beetle by richard marsh. the mysteries of udolpho by ann radcliffe next. 

you’re picking up the last novel you selected for this paper, flatland by edward abbott, when he finally bothers to talk to you again.

“this one hasn’t been in print for very long,” he mumbles as he scans it into the system, registering your rental.

“i know,” you say, not bothering to keep the smugness out of your voice. “not a very basic pick, is it?”

he fixes you with that blank stare again, but you don’t quite miss the way the corner of his lip quirks up into the slightest of smirks as he slides the book over the counter to you.

despite the fact that you really don’t need to, you keep renting out a book from the library every week even after you’ve finished your essay. every time, you make sure it’s something that’s in the realm of horror but not a super common title, spending hours researching and compiling a list of novels that fit your criteria. it’s got absolutely nothing to do with the smart-mouthed guy handing the books off to you every week, who you’ve actually gotten to the point of bantering with (because, quite frankly, you don’t think your takes on the novels are as bad as he claims they are).

half your friends think you’ve just picked up a new hobby. the other half think you’ve gone insane. only one knows the truth, when they catch you taking a handwritten note out of the most recent book you’ve just picked up from the library, shaking your head and scoffing at whatever’s written on it, but also struggling to keep the smile off your face.

her curiosity spurs her into following you to the library the next week, where she catches you and itoshi rin in heated discussion over the novel, the man actually fully engaged in the conversation and having eyes only for you.

well, she can keep a secret just this once. far be it for her to interfere with your accomplishment of the impossible.

michael kaiser - study date (pt. 2)

you shouldn’t have agreed to come to the cafe with him—you’re in way over your head.

it’d taken four hours, the consultation of every friend you have on campus, and a seemingly endless amount of cycling through every article of clothing you own, but eventually, you’d looked into your full-length mirror and deemed yourself ready for your date with kaiser.

you thought that calling it a “date” was being generous, but your friends insisted otherwise. he asked you to go to a cafe with him, one-on-one. to study, you’d argued, but they just amended their statement to call it a study date. which is a thing, apparently.

regardless, you’ve gone with a relatively safe outfit—nothing too fancy, in case it really is just another study session, but still something nicer than you would normally wear around campus, especially to the library.

you headed out at about six-twenty, since you’d agreed to meet at the library at six-thirty. sucking in a shaky breath and wiping your sweaty palms off on your shirt, you threw your laptop into your bag and slung it over your shoulder, then began the trek to the library.

it felt like a death march. each step closer to the entrance had your heart rate increasing, and by the time you found yourself climbing the final steps to the floor that your usual study spot is on, you felt like you might have actually been having a heart attack with the way the organ felt like it was about to burst out of your chest at any moment.

remember, he asked you, your friend’s voice echoed in your head as you steeled yourself and ignored the instinct to turn tail and flee while you still could.

now, you’ve been sitting with kaiser at a cozy table by a window in the back of the cafe for just over an hour now, but you’ve felt like your face is going to melt off the entire time. the cool detachment from your previous encounters is gone now, leaving you in the wake of the flirtatious nature you’d only heard about from others, something so rare to behold it’d become something of a myth on campus.

an hour, and neither of you had brought out a single notebook or laptop. after ordering your drinks and sitting down, you didn’t feel like you had a moment to even breathe; kaiser kept your gaze trapped within his own intense one, his blue eyes locked onto yours as he made “casual conversation,” which mostly just ended up being him coaxing you into talking about yourself.

he answered some of your questions, too, about his major, plans post-grad, and even the people he insisted weren’t friends (you’d felt your nervous smile go a bit fond at that; he could say whatever he liked, but if he really didn’t like alexis and yoichi, he probably wouldn’t be spotted around them as much as he was). after expertly dodging your questions about his home life and family twice, you took the hint and backed off, steering the conversation back to yourself.

there’s finally a lull in your conversation, prompting you to finally tear your eyes away from his and look down at your backpack. fidgeting with the hem of your shirt, you ask, “should we, um, get started on work?”

a sense of deja vu washes over you when you don’t get a response. it seems his silence is a command for your attention, and you shyly peer up at him, nearly cowering under the bored glare he’s now sending you that very much reminds you of the day in the library that had landed you in this situation to begin with.

“why bother?” he asks, tilting his head against the palm it’s propped up against. “it’s irresponsible to start another assignment when you haven’t finished the one you’re currently working through.”

you raise an eyebrow at the implication behind that statement but decide to indulge him, anyways. “and just what assignment might you be working on right now?”

his smirk reemerges, and you feel your own face heat up again. “a research project, of sorts,” he answers breezily. “i’ve yet to collect enough data to satisfy me.”

“what a shame,” you say, somehow managing to keep yourself together enough to go along with the bit. “do you plan to gather more?”

he lets out a hum, then begins to trace his finger in circles along the rim of his mug. his eyes are so sharp as they gaze into yours that your breath hitches before he even answers.

“if my subject is willing to meet with me again, then yes.”

yeah, you’re definitely way in over your head with this one.

[internetdaddy98]

The Ties That Bind Us - Chapter 21

Previous | Next [Series Masterlist]

Content Warning: medical procedures; mutual pining; angst: yelling; swearing;

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

The comms went off at 6:50 a.m.

Of course it did.

You were barely three steps into the ER, coffee still burning hot in your hand, when the call came through: MVC, mid-thirties female, unstable vitals, ETA six minutes. The room snapped into motion around you like muscle memory.

You didn’t have time to think. Not about what happened, not about the way Robby had looked at you like you’d fractured something sacred. Not about the fact that this was the first time you were seeing him since it all imploded.

You threw your sweater onto the nearest chair and got to work.

And then he walked in.

Black scrubs. Jaw set. Eyes stormy.

You didn’t speak. Neither did he.

You took opposite sides of the trauma room like it was instinct. You hadn’t worked a code together in three days, but your rhythm was the same—too practiced to falter. His hands moved fast and precise, intubating while you placed a central line. Orders flew. Nurses obeyed. You worked as if the silence wasn’t deafening.

But God, it was.

You could feel every inch of distance between you, and still, your bodies operated like puzzle pieces that knew exactly how to fit. That was the worst part—how easy it was still to do this with him, even when nothing else felt okay.

“She’s crashing,” Dr. Mohan said.

Robby barked for an epi. You reached across the gurney at the same time, your hands brushing.

He flinched like you’d burned him.

And that? That nearly unraveled you.

The patient stabilized, barely. When it was over, the patient was transferred up to the ICU, and the chaos ended. But the damage between you two hadn’t gone anywhere.

You peeled off your gown, then your gloves, tossing them into the biohazard bin with more force than necessary. Robby was already halfway out the door.

And that was it. You snapped. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ The air on the rooftop was colder than it had any right to be.

You had only meant to take a moment—five minutes to breathe, to stop shaking. The chaos of the ER hadn’t let up all night, and neither had the pressure building in your chest. You needed open air. Space.

You weren’t expecting Robby to follow you.

But when you heard the metal door creak open behind you, you already knew it was him. You didn’t turn. Just stared out over the city, arms crossed tight, jaw locked.

The door slammed shut.

“Seriously?” His voice, low and sharp.

“You’re just gonna walk away and pretend that didn’t just fucking happen?” he said, voice low and tired but no less sharp.

You turned slowly. “What? Saving a life?”

He let out a bitter laugh. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

“Then say what you mean, Michael.”

You laughed once. Bitter. “You can’t even look at me.”

“I am looking at you.”

“No, you’re looking through me,” you snapped. “Like I’m just the new attending going after your job, right?”

“You lied to me, Y/N.”

You felt the sting before the words even settled in the air.

“I didn’t lie.”

“Oh come on, Y/N.”

His face was flushed, breath misting in the chill, eyes burning. The fury was real, but beneath it… the betrayal glinted like a blade.

“You didn’t think I deserved to know?” he asked. “You knew for how long and just decided to smile through shifts like nothing was happening?”

Her own temper snapped like a live wire. “I was trying to keep things from falling apart. I didn’t want any of this! I didn’t ask for this.”

“But you didn’t say no either.”

“I didn’t have a chance to—”

“No,” he cut in, laughing bitterly, “because Gloria made sure you’d take it before I even had time to realize I was being replaced.”

“You are not being replaced, Robby.”

“Oh, aren’t I?” he said, stepping forward. “Because it feels like I’m standing on the roof of a hospital where I’ve killed myself for years—built this ER to survive—and now they’re telling me my new ‘partner’ is the woman I’ve been training, who couldn’t be bothered to tell me any of this before it blew up in my face.”

“You’re twisting it,” you said, voice shaking. “I didn’t betray you—”

“You didn’t trust me.” His voice was quiet now. Hurt threading through each word. “That’s worse.”

You looked away, blinking fast. “You made it pretty clear you don’t trust people who work here. That you don’t want to get close.”

“I was trying to protect you,” he said, louder now. “Because this place eats you alive, and I didn’t want to be stupid enough to care about someone who might leave the second it got too hard.”

“Then why did you look at me like I mattered?” Your voice cracked. “Why did you talk to me at three in the morning like I was something more than just another colleague? Why the hell did you make me feel like—like there was something between us if you were never going to let it be real? Why did you almost kiss me?”

Robby’s jaw clenched.

“Because there is something between us, and I can’t breathe around it,” he hissed. “I don’t sleep. I barely function half the time when you’re not around. And now I find out you’ve been lying to me?”

“I wasn’t lying,” you snapped. “I was scared. And I thought maybe—maybe if I stayed professional, if I kept my distance—you’d see I wasn’t here to make a mess of your life. But it didn’t matter. Nothing I did was ever going to be good enough for you to choose me.”

The silence that followed was brutal.

Robby took a step back, fists trembling at his sides. “You think I didn’t choose you? I’ve been trying not to fall apart over you for months. And the one time I needed you to choose me, you didn’t.”

“You think I didn’t choose you?” you asked, voice shaking. “I’ve been trying to push my feelings down for months for you Robby. Trying not to want more because you made it clear there was no more to want.”

He didn’t answer.

And that hurt more than anything.

You shook your head, blinking back the sting in your eyes.

“I cared. I still do. But if you’re going to punish me for not reading your mind, I don’t know what else I’m supposed to do.”

He finally looked at you then. Really looked at you. And the ache in his expression nearly took your breath away.

“I didn’t know how to want you and keep my world intact,” he said.

And maybe that was the truest thing either of you had said all day.

“You don’t have to worry about that anymore. You made sure of that.” You said coldly.

He didn’t know who walked away first.

But when the rooftop emptied, the sky felt heavier than before.

[earenwen-leafwhisper]

Rage

Daemon x wife reader

Summary: What happens when Daemon’s wife explodes in front of everyone?

Author’s note: hello everyone, it has been several months since I wrote such a long text in such a short time. I reread the first time to correct as many mistakes as possible.

Part 2 will come soon

Tag : @avalyaaa @dc-marvel-girl96

N/h is noble house

Not that Y/n refused the idea of marriage, what she refused was to be forced to marry a stranger living on another continent. Having to make a two-month trip by boat to meet an unknown prince, if for some it would have been a fairy tale, for y/n it was the opposite.

It is true that she could not say that Daemon was ugly physically, but his behavior towards her, was lower than some commoners.

Daemon had refused to meet her, preferring to go around the taverns of King’s Landing. When Y/n heard the news of her future husband’s place of debauchery, she confronted the freshly crowned Viserys, but refrained from saying the bottom of her thoughts.

"Rumor say, that my future husband is in a place of debauchery."

"Oh don’t worry, my dear. Daemon is a man, and a man with desires and needs." Viserys' voice showed his amusement. Under the outraged gaze of Y/n and the gaze of Otto Hightower.

Yes, Otto Hightower, the hand of the king who may be trying to do his job and who understood very well the stakes of the future marriage of Y/n and Daemon.

If Y/n hoped that once married, things would work out. Reality caught up with her.

Whenever it would be at the wedding day, when Daemon looked at her with disdain, or the non-existent wedding night, during which, it was a returning guard from the city who, out of pity, confessed to her that the prince was in one of the most famous brothels and insulted her copiously with all possible words. Daemon showed only disdain towards y/n, and in all this, y/n was alone.

Alone, facing a husband who did not want her and a beautiful family that seemed more tolerating than accepting her in the royal family. Between Viserys who always made excuses for Daemon or mocked the situation, pregnant Aemma that have tried to reassure y/n even if deep down, she knowed that Daemon would not change. Rhaenys who on rare visit, did not even seem to see her. Y/n felt alone, if only the mocking came only from that side. The visiting nobles liked to make fun of her clothes, which were not the latest fashion in Westeros, but represented her kingdom. Y/n hated all the nobles, except the Starks, whom she had never met.

In all this hatred, the most came from the "pimbêche". Noble lady's who took themselves superior while they were pitiful and contemptuous.

Oh and Otto Hightower, how can we forget? Otto dreamed of seeing the marriage of Daemon and Y/n explode, that Daemon is stuck in the kingdom of Y/n and that he can never come back to Westeros. Y/n could understand Otto’s hatred of Daemon, but she didn’t give Otto a spanking, preferring not to become a pawn in the gloomy game taking place on Westeros. The Daemon case being more than enough to give her headaches.

Despite the adversity, y/n remained smiling in front of others, keeping a good figure, at home it was polite to smile softly, which she spanked at all times, even when she dreamed of throwing Daemon from the ramparts of King’s Landing, when she looked away was not due to her shyness, oh no, this technique allowed her not to cast dark glances at the many courtiers.

She could not say how, she was able to keep so calm during the years that followed. Rejected by the nobles, forced to stay in the castle, not to meet Daemon in the streets of the city. Alone against all.

5 years, it took 5 long years...

This day haved to be a day of celebration for whatever reason Viserys found good.

In the morning, the servants of Y/ n had helped her to prepare, her dress was made of a gold thread woven self, allowed to be both light and show the richness of its origins. Whether it was her accessories or the style of her hair. Everything reminded her of her home, her family, because here. That was all she had left.

---

The atmosphere was heavy, Y/n standing with a glass of wine in her hand, watching the show before her eyes.

Daemon a glass of wine in hand, whispered in the hollow ear of a blushing servant.

Viserys spoking with Lord Corlys, or rather, talked about everything and nothing so, as not to leave Corlys talking of the problems of the kingdom.

Aemma stood beside a very young Rhaenyra, a septa not far from them. Several lords looked at y/n with a mixture of curiosity and contempt. Their wives had gathered in a pack of chatterboxes, barely discreet.

"Did you see her outfit?"

"She must think that Daemon will see her."

"Or a guard..."

"She look like a slut..."

"A wild one..."

"All of them are savages."

That someone insulted her was one thing. Daemon liked to call her "My little wildling" while smiling sneakily and with a mocking voice, but that someone dares to insult her people was the breaking point.

No one could have known which was the quickest, between the glass of wine throwing at Lady Lannister or the scream of Y/n.

"Don’t insult my people, you scoundrel!"

All the people present were silent on the shots, looking in the direction of Y/n, under the shock.

"You think yourself superior to me, my people and even yours when you are just a good snake, only good at to bear children. Children who are not of your husband." Lady Lannister blushed, trying to answer but was prevented. " Oh don’t play the innocent, everyone knows you like to copulate with your husband’s guards."

Y/n pointed finger lady n/h.

"And you. You dare to make fun of my outfits while yours are made fun of by your so-called friends behind your back." One tried to escape. " Don’t move! You think you’re trying to run away?! Oh no, not today. You think yourself so superior when you know nothing about my kingdom, and how dangerous it is for Westeros."

All the nobles were put back in their places, before Y/n moved towards the Targaryen.

"Oh, you think you’re out of reach?" Y/n laughs falsely. "Viserys. King of the trash. You play deaf and blind. Not wanting to listen to the problems of your kingdom. How do you want to reign when you are not even able to put back in place your own brother. I wouldn’t be surprised if your reign ended in war."

Although Daemon did not like someone to attack his brother, he could not be against the facts. When the eyes filled with rage and hatred of y/n landed on him, he was taken with a shiver, his pants begin to seem a little small. So... this was the true nature of his wife.

"And you! Dear husband. You are the worst of all. You are a pig packing in noble fabrics. Unable to consume your own marriage, unable to talk with your own wife! Unable to show an ounce of curiosity! How can you ascend to the throne when you are no better than the most disgusting of the people in this city?!"

And so it was that the beginning, all the worst actions of Daemon were brought to light, indicating that y/n knew everything.

"Today you will behave like the husband who is destined for me." She pointed towards a door leading to the many corridors of the castle. " My chamber. Now."

She did not raise her voice, and under the surprise of all, Daemon began to walk quickly in the direction of command.

[saiyanprincessswanie]

The Ultimate Risk - Part 4

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader 

Word Count: 5535

Series Summary: Reader is a full-time college student at 30 years old who is starting over in life. When she loses her full-time job as a waitress, CEO James “Bucky” Barnes steps in with a proposition. Can he sell you on a way to help you by offering a Sugar Daddy companionship? Who will get feelings first? Can a Sugar Daddy relationship really work out?

Series Warnings: Sugar Daddy au, Reader is 30 & Bucky is in his 40s, reader has trust issues, talks of anxiety, angst, eventually falling in love, smut, oral (m & f), nicknames (sweetheart and doll.)

The Ultimate Risk Masterlist

A/N: @avengers-assemble-bingo for James Buchanan Barnes - 108th Birthday Bingo 

Square: Sugar Daddy (card #4B 024)

A/N 2: Thank you to my beta writers @lfnr-blog-blog-blog & @gremlin-girly. Thank you to @late-to-the-party-81 for the header.

Please Read, Reblog, & Comment. It lets me know you like my work. 😊💜

I do NOT consent to translating or reposting my work on any social media platform, app, or third-party site or run through AI. If you see my work anywhere besides my personal Tumblr & AO3 accounts, it has been stolen.

The next morning you woke up with a smile on your face. You couldn’t believe the night you had with Bucky going out and dressing up. Him getting you a new place to live and to top it off, a brand new car. Things like this don’t happen to people like you but here you were; being spoiled by a billionaire.

It didn’t help that Bucky was handsome. Although he was ten years older, the age gap didn't bother you. You loved the touch of gray in his dark hair and the specks in his beard. The salt-and-pepper look made him look more desirable. Wait, did you just think of him being desirable? Ugh, get it together. You were friends, not lovers. But a small part of you began to wonder; what if you became something more than friends?

The sudden ache between your legs made you squeeze your thighs together hopelessly, trying to relieve it. The things you would let him do to you... You shake your head pushing the thoughts away with a huff of frustration, forcing yourself out of your bed to take a shower, washing away all horny thoughts to get ready for schoolwork.

Once you were showered and dressed you grabbed your laptop. You climbed back into bed and started up the laptop. Looking at your phone, you see a missed text message. 

Bucky: Good morning, sweetheart. I hope you slept well. I will be in a meeting today and was wondering if I could stop by later? Let me know.

You smile at his text, trying to contain your excitement as you hurriedly type back.

You: Hi Bucky, sorry I missed your text. I slept great last night and I’m getting ready for schoolwork as we speak. You can stop by whenever you want. Can’t wait to see you later. 😘 

You logged onto the school website and started to start working on the end of semester class work. There were two weeks left and now was the time to hunker down to get work done. Hopefully Bucky would understand that this needed to be done. 

Then, at the end of the semester, you were going to be moving into that beautiful house owned by Steve. You weren’t sure how you were going to pull everything off. All you did know is you would have more free time to spend with Bucky.

Bucky sat at the conference table in silence. You just wrote back to him and he smirked at your text. You couldn’t wait to see him later and you sent a kiss emoji. That made his stomach flip-flop for a second in excitement. He couldn’t wait to see you later as well.

Last night was amazing. He loved seeing you dressed up and beaming the whole time. He thought he'd maybe gone too far with that kiss to your shoulder but if anything you seemed fine with it, if not just as excited as him. You had managed to mesmerize him in every way; even on the days you were dressed down. There was just something about you that begged for adoration; and Bucky was more than willing to give it.

He knew you were going to be busy the next two weeks with school but gosh if he didn't find an attractive, intelligent woman who was set on creating her own path... and he loved that about you. He loved how hard you were working to fulfill your own goals. Create something more for yourself.

Bucky would plan his time with you around your schedule. Then, once the semester was over, he was thinking of taking you on a little getaway. He figured you both would need it. As his mind thinks of you, T’Challa’s voice interrupts his thoughts.

“I’m sorry, what were you saying?” Bucky asks his friend.

"You have her on your mind." T'Challa smirks knowingly at Bucky.

"I-" Bucky begins to protest but T'Challa continues.

"Are you about to tell me my presentation is making you smile like that? You're so happy with this year's projections that you're making goo-goo eyes at your phone?" T'Challa raises an eyebrow and Bucky shrinks in his seat. "I can always come back later to run the presentation by you. When you're less DISTRACTED."

“No, that won’t be necessary. You have my full attention now.” Bucky places his phone in his suit pocket and focuses on the presentation.

It was late afternoon by the time you finished your first draft, got through some other bits and pieces, and are now giving yourself a well-deserved break. You’ve never been this productive before you met Bucky. Suddenly, you got a text from an unknown number.

Unknown: I heard you were the belle of the charity ball last night. I was told your old man kept you close. Tell me, what is a pathetic whore like yourself hanging around the city’s most eligible bachelor?

You: I don’t know who you are but I’m not a whore. Now kindly fuck off. 🖕🏻

You are angry and confused by the text message you have gotten from this unknown person. Who would want to send this type of message to you?

Unknown: Now, now. That’s no way to speak to someone who is holding all the cards. Bet the tabloids would love to hear how you're whoring yourself out for money.

You: Again I’m not whoring myself out for money. Bucky is a friend. I don’t know who you are but I’m blocking you. Fuck off asshole.

Quickly you hit the block button before they could respond. You stuffed your phone under a pillow. Your breathing is erratic as you struggle to calm yourself down. Tears swarm your eyes as you try to count to ten to get your anxiety to calm down. Who would be so vile to write something like that to you? It’s not like you had any friends or family who knew of your arrangement. It was an arrangement between you and Bucky; only you both knew about it, right? Wait... his banker and attorney both know. So did Steve. What if they told someone about your arrangement? Had Bucky elaborated to any of them? Sam would have to keep his client intelligent stum, but Tony and Steve you couldn't be certain. Although, you didn't see Steve as the tattling type; ESPECIALLY when you were going to be renting his home.

Regardless, the situation was that SOMEONE knew, and your breathing became more and more erratic as you became trapped in your own head. You barely heard the knock at the door.

You gasped and wheezed as you tried to ignore the knocking. Finally, on a third knock you heard, “Sweetheart, it’s me open up.” Dashing out of bed you flung the door open and threw yourself at Bucky. He started to chuckle until he took in your features. “Sweetheart, talk to me.” When you shook your head he immediately picked you up and kicked the door shut behind him. 

He walked over to your couch and held you in his arms as he sat. Bucky started doing breathing exercises with you until you got your breathing under control. You clung to his suit as if your life depended on it. He held you for several minutes in silence as he rubbed your back. Finally, after a little bit, you sat up straight and wiped your eyes.

“Sorry, I had a panic attack on you.” You whispered, looking anywhere but at him.

“Don’t be sorry sweetheart. Something obviously worked you up in a panic. Would you like to talk about it?” Bucky said softly.

"I had texts from an unknown number." You say quietly.

“Show them to me.” 

You got off his lap and went to your bedroom where you grabbed your phone from under a pillow. Walking back out to him you held it out for him to take and then took a seat next to him. Bucky was staring at the set of text messages from this unknown number. He read the texts and soon his blood was boiling.

Who in their right mind would text you saying such vile things to you? What did this person mean they were holding all the cards? Whoever this was, Bucky was going to use all his resources to find this person. What he wouldn’t give to have a conversation with them and set them straight after making his sweetheart cry. 

Bucky set the phone down on the coffee table and held his arms open for you. Slowly, you made your way into his arms again and held onto him. 

“You listen to me, sweetheart. You did the right thing by blocking the number. Whoever that was has no life and was just trying to scare you. You haven’t done anything wrong. Do you understand?”

Bucky looks into your eyes to see if you understand him and you nod your head. 

“We both know you’re not what they called you. This is a pure relationship with no expectations involved. You’re kind and deserve better than what was written to you. For now, push that out of your mind. You need to be able to focus on school these next two weeks.” Bucky insisted as he continued to hold you. 

“Thank you, Bucky. Thank you for understanding and comforting me. This means a lot to me.”

“Don’t you worry about a thing I will protect you. Now, I know you probably haven’t eaten much today so let’s order food and relax for the evening.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

Bucky took his suit jacket off and draped it over a chair. As usual, he rolls up his sleeves and reveals his many tattoos on his arms. He orders some sandwiches from a local Italian place not far from you and as you wait for them to be delivered, Bucky rests his left arm around your shoulders while you watch TV. His hand rubs up and down your upper arm making you want to snuggle closer, and you do, inhaling his delicious aftershave.

Your fingers play with his right hand for a moment and he watches as you bring his hand to your mouth slowly. Bucky sucks in a quiet breath as you tentatively kiss his knuckles, one by one.

“What are you doing pretty girl?” Bucky murmurs, dark blue eyes wide with disbelief as you smile up at him.

“Doing what you do all the time. You kiss my hand a lot and I’m returning the favor.” You say nonchalantly. 

“Is that so?”

You giggle, “Yeah.”

Bucky pulls you into his lap with you straddling him. What he wouldn’t give to kiss you right now. He promised himself that if anything you would be the one that had to instigate it first. He was a gentleman after all and this was supposed to be just a companionship. 

You stared down at him and couldn’t help the way you were feeling at this moment. You wanted to kiss him. You wanted to kiss him. You wanted to kiss him as a thank you for everything, for how supportive he had been. But as you leaned down and he leaned up, the moment was ruined by a loud knock at the door. You both jumped and hesitantly laughed. 

You got off his lap as Bucky went to the door to pay. The moment was ruined. Any hope you had of kissing him tonight was gone.

You sighed as you went to the kitchen to get plates for you both. Placing your food on it you took your food into the living room followed by Bucky. The both of you talked and ate as you watched TV. The conversation was laid back and Bucky made you laugh at some jokes. Everything was going great as the hours passed. 

You were both lying down on the couch side by side snuggled together with the TV playing on low volume. Bucky’s arm was wrapped around your waist holding you close to him. You started to slowly close your eyes as you relaxed into him. Never had you felt more relaxed or safe than you did at this moment.

Bucky could feel your body relaxing more and by the time he knew it you were softly sleeping. Your breathing was even and your body was pressed close. He let you be for the next thirty minutes just letting you get some rest. He smiled knowing this is what he wanted in the future. You lying in his arms without a care in the world.

Bucky knew you would be more comfortable in bed so he kissed your shoulder and whispered into your ear. “Sweetheart, it’s time to go to bed.”

You groaned out a huff making him chuckle. You were definitely cute when you slept. Getting out from behind you, careful not to disturb you, he scooped you up in his arms and carried you to bed. 

Quietly, he made his way to the bedroom and laid you down on the bed. As soon as he let you go you woke up. 

Looking up, you smiled at him. “Did I really fall asleep on you?”

Bucky nodded. “Yeah, you did about thirty minutes ago. I didn’t want to disturb you cause you looked so comfortable in my arms. I figured I would bring you to bed so you could sleep.”

You sit up and stretch your arms. “I appreciate it, Bucky. Let me walk you to the door so you can get home to your bed. I mean… unless you want to spend the night?”

Bucky smirked at your offer and blushed. His stomach did flips just at the thought of it. For now, it could wait. “I’m going to head home as I have an early morning ahead of me. Maybe next time though?” Bucky looks hopeful.

That made you grin. “Yes, next time would be great.”

Bucky walked to the chair to grab his suit jacket and then headed towards the door. You were following him and when he stopped he kissed your forehead. 

“I‘ll see you later, sweetheart.”

“Bye Bucky.”

The door opened and closed leaving you sighing against the door. There was no denying that there were sparks between you. Though, who would make the first move again you thought? After locking the door you head to your bedroom to change and climb into bed.

Bucky arrived home and put his keys on the table near the door. He headed to the bedroom to shower. Stepping into the hot shower, Bucky starts to replay the events of the evening.

He thinks about how close you were tonight and how you let him hold you. It’s been years since Bucky held someone in his arms and felt something for them. He didn’t want to let you go but knew you had a long couple of weeks ahead of you preparing for finals.

Then his mind wanders about the kiss that almost happened. You straddling his legs as you leaned in to kiss him. What he wouldn’t give to feel your lips against his. He would devour you and taste every part of you. Curse that delivery guy for showing up when he did.

He turned the shower off and grabbed a towel. Bucky was still counting down the weeks until your finals were done. Then he would move you into your new place and whisk you away on a tropical vacation. 

Bucky hung the towel up after drying off and grabbed a pair of boxer briefs to pull on. Crawling into bed he thinks of what it would be like to sleep next to you. He did say that next time he would stay. That brought a smile to his face as he shuts the bedside lamp off and falls asleep thinking about the vacation he will take you on.

The next several days seem to fly by quickly. Between studying, papers, and exams you had no free time during the day. Bucky would stop by in the evenings bringing food with him so you could eat. He saw how much the stress was weighing on you and did his best to get you to relax. 

The week of finals started and you were taking exams every day except for Friday. When Friday came around you slept the day away trying to get the much needed rest you deserved. You couldn’t believe you were done with the semester and you had the summer off. This left your calendar open for Bucky. 

Around two in the afternoon, Bucky ended up texting you. You grabbed the phone to read the text.

Bucky: Hey sweetheart. Just checking in on you. Was wondering if you wanted to come to my place tonight and I’ll cook you dinner? Let me know how you’re feeling.

You: Hi Bucky. I’m actually doing good. Slept late today but totally needed it. I would love to come over tonight. I can’t believe you cook! Can’t wait to see you. Just give me a time and I’ll be there.

Bucky: How does 5 pm sound? I’m getting out early but need to stop by the store.

You: Sounds great. Do you want me to bring anything?

Bucky: Just yourself 😉

You: See you in a little bit 😘

You grin at the phone and giggle. He makes you feel special at times like this.

Climbing out of bed you got into the shower and got ready for your night ahead. You went through your normal routine of drying your hair and applied light makeup. Going to your closet you pull out a white dress with yellow flowers on it. 

Modeling in your mirror you were satisfied with how you look. You looked at the time and saw it was just after three. You had plenty of time to grab a book and read. It was one of your favorite series’ that had both thriller themes and smut sprinkled throughout.

You were at a particular part where the guy was confessing his feelings to the reader. You sigh at the romantic words on the paper and you hoped you would be in that situation one day. You wanted to be loved just like this character does.

You ended up reading several chapters by the time it was ready for you to leave. Putting the book down you grabbed your purse, phone, and keys then headed for the door. Making your way outside you climbed into your BMW and headed to his place.

The drive was five minutes longer due to traffic but you arrived at his place parking next to his Escalade. Getting out of the BMW you made your way to the elevator. Once inside you hit the button to his floor. You hum as it takes you to the top floor. When you arrive you ring his doorbell and wait for him to open the door.

A minute passes before the door opens and there stands Bucky grinning at you. He’s wearing a dark blue pair of jeans and a maroon Henley. 

His eyes sweep over you taking in your dress. “God sweetheart, you look gorgeous. Please come inside.” He motions with his arm for you to walk by. 

Noticing he is barefoot, you kick your sandals off at the door. He walks into his kitchen with you following and he pulls out a chair at the bar for you. 

“Would you like some wine?” Bucky asks.

“Yes, I will take a glass please.” You could use one after your week.

Bucky pours you both a glass of white wine and hands you the wine glass. “To good grades and time off.”

“Cheers.” You both clink the glasses together and take a sip.

“Well, I guess it’s time to show you my limited cooking skills.” Bucky chuckles as he starts to take the ingredients out and place them on the counter in front of him.

He rolls his sleeves up to his elbows and gets to work. He chops vegetables up and places them in a pan. You watch in awe as you sit back and sip your wine, watching him flourish a bottle of something and hearing a sizzle in the pan. Now and then he sneaks a peek at you and smiles. 

“So I was wondering, after we get you moved into the house, I was thinking of taking you on a tropical getaway. Sunny skies, blue ocean, and nothing but relaxation. What do you think?” Bucky asks as he continues to cook. 

“I definitely could use a vacation after my semester. But are you sure you can take a vacation with such short notice?

Bucky chuckles. “I’m the boss, remember? I can up and leave on my private jet whenever I want. Just say the word and we will go.”

You pondered for a minute. “Yes, I would love to go with you.”

“Great, I will start planning everything over the next week. I know you will love it.”

Forty minutes or so passed and Bucky was finishing up cooking. He started plating the food and placed your dish in front of you. It was chicken with roasted vegetables. It smelled divine and had you licking your lips. He placed his dish at the bar next to you. He grabbed the wine bottle and topped off the glasses.

“This smells amazing, Bucky.”

“Thanks, sweetheart. Now let's dig in.”

You both started to eat and drink your wine. In between that, you talked about getting you moved into your new place. Bucky had already hired movers and at this point, you would need to pack your things. Because you lived in a small apartment it wouldn’t take you long to pack your stuff. It didn’t matter though because Bucky was going to help you every step of the way.

“Gosh, Bucky I’m full. This was so good.” You pushed your plate away and looked over at him.

“I’m glad I could finally cook for you. I’ve been wanting to for a while now. So thank you for letting me.” Bucky got out of his seat and grabbed both plates. Washing them off a little he stuck them in his dishwasher. 

“Do you need any help?”

“Oh no, you’re my guest. I’m just going to put the food away and then we can go sit in the living room.”

You sipped your wine and watched as he put everything away and in the dishwasher. There was something so domestic about him which was weird considering how wealthy he is. You never thought someone of his status would be so laid back. But here you were, spending more time with him and being amazed just by the simplest things. 

When Bucky finished, he poured the rest of the wine in both glasses and led the way to the living room. It still shocked you how big his place was. The living room was huge and had a large flat-screen TV. Taking a seat next to each other you put your wine on a side table.

“Can I ask you something?” You asked.

“Of course, sweetheart. Anything.”

“Have you done this sugar daddy relationship before me? I mean I’m curious how you got into it.”

Bucky took a sip of wine and placed his on a table next to him. “Yes, once before you and many years ago. I was in my thirties when I met her. She was a sweet girl in the beginning. But as they say, love is blind for some. I was the fool who fell for her hard. I thought she was my dream girl but she was stealing money out from under me. She had access to an account and I placed money in there for her allowance. Somehow, she hacked my banking information and took nearly two million from me before I caught it.” 

Bucky frowned as he spoke. The anger in him was at a simmer as he started to relive some of the moments again in his head. How could his ex-girlfriend hurt him after everything he had done for her?

You were getting anxious from what he was telling you and you started to fidget.

“Two million may not seem a lot considering what I’m worth but she did it with the help of a boyfriend she has on the side that I knew nothing about. All the gifts, trips, and time spent together. She broke my heart and I swore I would never trust again let alone do this kind of relationship. That is, until I met you.” Bucky had reached for your hand and held it while he was thinking.

“What made me so special?” You whispered out.

“Oh, sweetheart, I knew you were special from the first time we met at the restaurant. You were kind, caring, smart, and never let anyone ruin your nights. I saw how you interacted with customers and you never had a poor attitude with the ones who treated you unfairly.”

Bucky smiled warmly at you. 

 “Then we got to know each other every week and I knew I wanted to learn more about you. I wanted to know what you were like outside of work and what your aspirations were.” 

Bucky kissed your hand and continued. “Little did I know I was getting someone so genuine. The more time we have spent together, the more I feel comfortable around you. It’s like you’re breaking the walls down around my heart. For that, I’m grateful.”

“Bucky, that's so sweet of you. Though, I’m sorry about the woman before me. She sounds so cruel. I hope I never break your heart like she did. I’m enjoying the time we spend together and how close we’re getting. I had trouble trusting anyone after John. He made me feel like I did something wrong when he left with no word on why. I blamed myself for the longest time and I swore off any kind of relationship while I put myself through school. But then I met you.”

You turned to face him as you both held hands. “I like where this is going so far between us and I can’t wait to see where our future takes us. All I know is I love being around you because I don’t feel lonely and lost anymore. You make me realize I can do anything if I put my mind to it.”

Bucky watched as you licked your lips. He wanted to kiss you. But what if that wasn’t what you wanted? Before he could think of anything else you leaned in and kissed him. The kiss was slow and sensual. Bucky pulled you into his lap and you straddled his thighs. He deepened the kiss and let your tongues dance together in a fight for dominance. You pulled at his shirt while his hands held onto your hips. You grind yourself against him searching for some friction. You wanted - no needed - to get some relief from him. You feel his cock harden beneath you and groan as you grind into him more. 

Bucky is panting out breaths from the sensation you are giving his cock. “God, I want you.” He groans.

“Then take me to bed.” You kiss his face over and over again.

“Not like this.” He slows your hips down. “We did drink a lot of wine. What if it’s the alcohol talking?”

“I may be a little tipsy but don’t you dare blame the wine on me being horny. I was already like this when I came over.” You snap back, surprising Bucky.

Bucky looks up at you with lust-blown eyes. “You were?”

“Yes! So please don't make me beg again.” You grabbed his hand and dipped it under your dress so he could feel your wet panties.

That’s all Bucky needed to sweep you up in his arms and carry you to his master bedroom. He laid you down in the middle of his California king bed. His hands went under your dress and pulled down the cute panties you were wearing. Pushing your dress up around your hips he took in your wet pussy.

Taking off his shirt you finally got to see all the tattoos on both arms. God, did he look like a piece of art. One that needed to be cherished. He pulled your hips down the bed and laid in between your legs. Pushing your thighs wide open Bucky descended on you and started to lick long stripes between your petals. His soft beard was making you ticklish on the soft skin of your thighs.

Your hands ran through his hair and held on to him as he started to eat you like a man starved. Every swipe of his tongue, every suckle of your clit, had you moaning his name to the heavens. The beard felt amazing against your pussy as you grind into his face. His fingers are pumping in and out of you. When he curled his fingers just right and sucked on your clit you thought you saw stars as you orgasmed so hard your legs shook in the aftermath. 

Bucky kissed his way up your body and kissed you on the lips. The taste of yourself was prominent on his tongue and you just hummed as you made out. When he pulled away from your mouth, he smiled down at you. “You taste heavenly. I could eat you out forever.”

You look up at him and frown noticing he wasn’t taking his pants off. “I thought we were going to have sex?”

He smirked at you and kissed your lips. “Not tonight. When I have you, I want us to be sober. I want you clear-headed when I make love to you and take you apart piece by piece in my bed.”

“Bucky, are you sure? I can feel how hard you are.”

“No worries doll. I’m normally hard when I’m around you. I’ll be okay.” He smirks at you as you lay across his bed. To him, you were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. 

You sat up on the bed and tugged him down. You started to undo his pants and before he could protest you said, “At least let me return the favor and help you out.”

You undid his jeans and pulled them down his thighs just enough so they were out of the way. Bucky helped you get him out of his boxer briefs. You were shocked by how thick and long his cock was. Not even John was this big when you were with him. Bucky sat at the end of the bed and you knelt between his muscular thighs. You leaned over him and licked the vein on the underside of his cock. Again you licked him but this time you took him inside your mouth. Whatever you couldn’t fit your hand wrapped around it and stroked him to the bobbing of your head. Your tongue would swirl around his tip every time you pulled away. Then you’d suck him down again causing Bucky to moan in pleasure.

His hand fisted your hair to anchor himself as you took him apart. Up and down, fast and deep you took him in your throat causing you to gag at times. Bucky started to thrust his hips making you take more of him.

“Fuck, doll. That’s it, I'm so close.” There was no way Bucky was going to last longer than he hoped. It had been a very long time since someone went down on him and he knew he was about to cum.

You kept your pace, flicking your tongue and hollowing your cheeks until finally his damn burst. Bucky came with a shout of your name as his cum was being lapped up by you. You swallowed everything he gave you and you hummed around his cock. Bucky fell back on the bed and breathed heavily as he tried to catch his breath. If your mouth could do that he knew he was in trouble when he finally could fuck you. 

You climbed onto the bed next to him and kissed his cheek. “Feeling okay Bucky?”

He starts to chuckle as he turns his head to face you. “I feel great. That was amazing. Sorry I didn’t last as long but it’s been a while since doing this.”

You giggle in delight. “Don’t be sorry. I’m not.” You place your head on his chest and start to relax.

“Please spend the night with me. We can watch movies in bed, cuddle, and I can eat you out longer.”

You didn’t need to be asked twice. “I will stay the night. But I don’t have anything to wear.” 

Bucky pulled his boxer briefs up and kicked his jeans off. “I will give you one of my T-shirts to wear for the night. But right now I want this dress off you and your naked body in my bed. You’re going to get a beard burn tonight that you won’t forget.”

You took the dress off and hopped into his huge bed. Bucky chased your naked form up the bed. This was the start of something new and you were ready to face it head on.

Taglist:

@americasass81

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[stvrnioloslvt]

⋆˚࿔⊹ ࣪ ˖─ pregnancy scare 2/2

pairing... ꒰inexperienced!matt × inexperienced!reader꒱

the fics in this au do not follow a chronological order. enjoy!

TW!: mentions of abortion. this fic will be pretty heavy on the matter, so if it's not for you, please do not read. thank you.

something people never tell you about pregnancy scares is that you will become paranoid for every. single. thing.

oh, that type of bread usually leaves you bloated? pregnancy. waking up with reflux? pregnancy. period late because of stress? pregnancy.

eventually, your whole life will revolve around pregnancy. that is, until you take that fucking test and see toilet people stained red. but until then? pregnancy.

and the first pregnancy scare is also the worst, especially when you are in your early 20s. you're young, he's young. you're broke, he's broke. you want to keep it, he doesn't.

truth to be told, you don't want to keep it cause your dream is to be an almost-over teen mom with no money or house or job. you can find a solution to all these things, eventually, but you cannot reverse a procedure that will ruin your body. you cannot force yourself to walk under the judging eyes of doctors who are supposed to help you, but instead they look like they're ready to call you an assassin whore at any given moment. you could, but you can't.

so that's why you and matt haven't been talking for a little over a week now. you've been trying to distract yourself as much as you could over this week, yet nothing really took your mind off the thought of a possible baby forming inside your body.

matt had tried to call and text you multiple times, yet you never replied. you couldn't help yourself but redirect your anger towards him, even though you were as guilty as he was.

jesus, what would your mom say? no, scratch that. what would everybody say? the thought alone made you shudder in disgust. you shouldn't be pregnant, you couldn't. point period.

unfortunately, that's not how life works, that's not how nature works. and until you know for sure that you're in the clear you couldn't live with your mind at ease.

so that's why one random thursday night your thumb hovered shakily over matt's number, finally pressing down. he picked up immediately, and in a couple minutes he was at your door, bursting inside with light's speed.

he held you close to his body while you cried desperately, clinging to him while your body shook fron the cold tiles under your bottom and the cold you felt inside.

on the counter the pregnancy test analysed the hormones levels in your urine, the display showcasing an hourglass.

the soft beeping echoed in the bathroom, pulling you out of your crying fit to throw you straight into panic.

matt was the one to retrieve the test, snatching it from the counter while you inched closer to the toilet, feeling yourself closer than ever to throwing up.

what if it came back positive? what would you do then? would you go through the pregnancy, would you back down and ask doctors to do something? what if matt left? would this be the end of you—

"negative."

"what?"

"I said it's negative. we're safe as for now."

© stvrnioloslvt

a.n: ok, just in case it wasn't clear— I'm not anti-abortion. however, I've met a couple of girls in my life that had to go under the procedure and they described it as a traumatic experience both for their body and mind, so I tried to portray the inner turmoil a woman might leave as best as I could. this post doesn't see a lot about y/n and matt. actually, there's no action at all between the two. I deemed more important giving light to our protagonist's thoughts. for the fluff and smut and things there will be time.

au taglist: @sturniolo04 @sturnsrecord @chrislova @norasafterglow @faiyaz555 @tyummyz @sturniolotoast @izzysturniiolo

and all the amazing people who requested to be tagged under part 2: @ilovechrissturniolosposts @httpssturns @slvt4chrissturniolo

divider by @bernardsbendystraws

[pome-seed]

The Soldier's Keeper ★ 3

Pairing: Winter Soldier! x Doctor!Reader

Word Count: 1.0k

Summary: As Pierce grew impatient, he felt the need to showcase just how helpless you really are. And just how easily the soldier could be used for his gain. Terrified and grappling, you force yourself to work harder.

Warnings: Mentions of kidnapping, choking, fear, and death. Fake and very uneducated medicine :)

Authors Note: This chapter is a bit short, but don't worry the rest are longer. Enjoy, and be kind!

A lesson you wished you could have escaped, was to not get too comfortable. To not trust the normalcy of captivity growing around you. You were doing everything that was asked of you, doing everything to the best of your ability. Your captors knew that, they knew you were obedient. 

But they were not patient people. 

You were testing the nerves responses in the Soldier’s trapezius muscle, when the doors behind you swung open. The one sided conversation you had been having died instantly. You stood to attention.

“I’m not understanding what is taking you so long.” Pierce started, stomping into the room. “You’re running your mouth, doctor, and I don’t know if you noticed, but that's not what you’re here to do.”

“I’m sorry-” you blurted, pulling your hands away from the Soldier’s neck. 

“You keep apologising, but I’m just not seeing enough progress. I need this to be done.”

“You’re right- I swear, I’m doing everything I can-”

“It doesn't sound like it. It sounds like you’re getting comfortable chit chatting when you should be focusing.” Pierce snapped, stepping closer. The Soldier's eyes tracked the man's movements silently. You, standing beside him, quivered under the intensity of your captor. You just wanted to go home. You just wanted to go home.

“I’m-”

Words left Pierce’s lips, metal charged and gears turned. In an instant, there was a cold grip around your throat. You couldn’t gasp, couldn’t think, the pressure squeezing your thin neck. 

You grappled at the cold metal, your eyes bulging from your head. “P- I-”

Your heart beat so rabidly in your chest that it made your head throb, blood rushing but unable to reach your brain. 

“I need you to focus on being silent. On getting the job done. He is not your friend, he is your charge. And he is not here to comfort you.” Pierce spoke in a cool tone, like he’d regained some control of himself once he was able to display the power he controlled. 

The Soldier, beside you, sat exactly where he was before, his arm outstretched to grip you by the throat. His gaze was dark and clouded over. He was him, but he was gone. 

You tried to pry the grip free, tried to slip your fingers under the ones made of steel, but it was impossible. This was a modern weapon of impossible strength, and you were just a girl. Your lungs burned with the need to breathe, your eyes burned and throbbed. You reached for what you could, your hands sliding down the Soldier’s metal bicep to his shoulder. The tips of your fingers tangled in his hair. 

You couldn’t focus on the scolding you were receiving, or the many threats to your life. It was all too real and you couldn’t breathe. Throaty sounds of smothered pleads scraped from your throat. You tugged at the longer strands of hair you could reach. The Soldier did not look at you. You wanted to beg him, reach for the deep part of the man that you’d spoken with just once. But that part of him was gone. 

Your ears were ringing loud in your head as your vision began to spot. You were going to die. You didn’t want to die. Oh god, please, you didn’t want to die.

Pierce’s voice, from somewhere far away, spoke another trigger word; and suddenly the pressure was gone, and you were crumbling to the floor. You gasped for air, swallowing it greedily as you clutched your bruised throat.

“Get back to work and find me something useful.” Pierce spit and turned for the door, but just before he could leave he said, “I told you what happened to our last doctor. You are here because we decided to end his last treatment plan. Make yourself useful enough to keep.”

★

The next time you saw the Soldier, you shared no words. You kept your mouth clamped shut as you worked. You knew you had to keep focus. It wasn’t just the Soldier’s life on the line. It was yours. 

And you couldn’t lie to yourself and say you hadn’t regained that primal fear of your charge. It was so easy for him to bring you to the brink of unconsciousness. It was so easy for him to hold you there, incapable of fighting back. 

It was terrifying to see how Pierce could speak one word and have the man bending to his will. You didn’t understand it. The soldier looked so broken, so ashamed and angry and cold. He didn’t want you to save him. So why was it so easy for him to listen, just like that?

What kind of conditioning had they subjected him to? 

The questions were never ending. You had little to no information on the man you spent your days with. And he was even less eager to tell you anything. Especially after what happened. When you made eye contact for the first time since that night, his eyes went immediately to the purpling bruises around your throat. You touched it absently, an ache hitting you every time you turned your head. You didn’t want to acknowledge it, think about it, talk about it. 

You were terrified, and the one comfort you had was taken from you. 

★

You worked diligently, muttering to yourself as you moved between your white board and the computer. You had been given access to the supplies you needed- chemicals, antibiotics, proteins, and many other concerning substances.

You knew that adrenaline could push a person past the regular human abilities, but you had been strung out on it for so long you almost couldn't see straight. You felt like you were floating in a constant state of fight or flight. 

You could barely keep down the rations they fed you. You couldn’t sleep. You couldn’t think past anything besides your task. There were moments when you caught yourself longing for home- praying and wishing on the what if’s. But you wouldn't let your mind stray there for long. 

That would be a death sentence. 

And you had enough of those looming over your head. 

A/N: Again, shorter chapter, but bear with me- the rest get better! Comment and be kind!

@jason-todd-fangirl-14 @frog-fans-unite @lonelyghosts-stuff

[stargirllo]

First oc eurhgeurgheurgh

Warnings? Mentions of violence, prostitution, drugs, uhh yandere behaviors?

implied fem reader but you may ignore it as it is only mentioned once

You were a prostitute, street walker, whore, lady of the night, tramp, the names were endless and you weren't proud of your job..nobody who took part was except the perverted men and women that used your services.

You couldn't bare it, so the first offer you got to get off the streets you took. The man was a mob boss, John anders, rich 23 year old who took over his old mans position and his perversion. Jeering you into his bed before asking you to go to his rivals party, use your beauty to get information from the leader.

What a solid man "hey girl from the streets, go try and seduce some scary powerful man into giving you information" you'd consider yourself lucky if you weren't shot on site for being an outsider.

You slowly walked into the large mansion, handing the guards a invitation one of johns rats stole from some other guest. You slowly walked through the crowd, being jostled slightly..just how many people could be here?

A few men have lingering stares before looking away. Back to their lady friends or watered down half drunken drinks. You looked around for the boss, Ceder Everett, A man so powerful he practically ran the city, hell a few more near the one you lived in.

Drugs, weapons, bars, casinos, real estate, other things you don't want to know. You paused as you finally spotted him, slicked back black hair and sharp grey eyes, red blouse and black dress pants with a black blazer on his shoulders.

He had a few wrinkles, and a smirk that looked like the tip of a well sharpened knife. A upturned and pointed nose, watch on his wrist and rings on his fingers..maybe diamond stud earrings from the gleam you could see on his ears.

You slowly walked over, tight black dress and pearl necklace feeling shabby now. He looked over at you and his smile changed, more forced as you put on a sugary gaudy smile and stepped within earshot of him. "I'm..Y/n" you said..should you have used a fake name? If you got out alive he could easily track you now.

He nodded "Well..I am Ceder, its nice to meet you..Y/n" you nodded and slowly grabbed his arm gently and gave him a look that used to get you paid extra "You're shaking" he said and your face almost dropped "I..just nerves from the crowd..I came with a friend who was invited" you explained hoping it sufficed.

He nodded "I hope you mean a parent..you look a little young to be friends with someone I'd be acquainted with even then why would your parents bring such a young one, hm?" he said and flushed "I look younger..flattery" you said and smiled as he smirked.

"Really? what a advantage sweetheart" he said and you nodded..was this good? "Lots of people..new deal our group had so a celebratory party, always in order" he explained and you nodded looking at the crowd which seemed to be staying away from him.

"I'd like to get to know you more pumpkin" he said "want to talk a walk? I'd offer a drink but..it wouldn't feel right with me to see someone look so young and drink" he said with a chuckle and you nodded with a nervous laugh and followed him off too a balcony.

"So..Y/n..came with a friend.." he said and you nodded. "..Who really sent you, and how did you manage to get in" he said with his back to you as he looked out. Your heart stopped, you swear as you sucked in a sharp breath "I..I don't understand..I..didn't lie" you said as he let out a small huffed chuckle.

"I have all guests..and friends brought by them listed, and the name on the invitation..acording to security doesn't match Y/n" he explained looking at you, his smirk still there.

"I..Please don't kill me! I anders! they sent me! I'm just a prostitue! I swear! I..I just needed to do this so they'd let me stay..I'm sorry!" you shrieked out before starting to hyperventilate as his smirk twisted into a frown.

"Oh baby..I don't hurt little kids..its okay, those men are cruel idiots" he said and reaching out as you flinched away before pausing. "..What?" you said as he picked you up, a shock, you, an adult, being picked up. "I'll just have to take care of you..hm? I've always wanted a kid..finally have a chance now" he said as he carried you through the mansion using back hallways.

Out to the entrance and into a car, a nice black SUV. He buckled you into the back before buckling himself and the driver starting up the car, "I'll be the best dad, kiddo, I promise" he said and kissed your forehead..atleast its not a bullet in your head.

[docile-dove]

Such a good dog.

TW: Pet play, degrading, oral, blow job, forcing a bit?, toxic, smut, non con

You always found Kai strange — but not in a way that made you uncomfortable. No, it was the kind of strange that made you lean in closer, desperate to know more.

He was quiet, but never awkward. His eyes were always half-lidded, unreadable, yet somehow full of something… darker?

He didn’t talk much, but when he did, it felt like a secret whispered just for you. You’d been classmates for a few months. Slowly, without realizing it, you started drifting closer to him — orbiting his mystery without realizing it. You were intrigued by him.

He never posted on social media. Never joined clubs. No one really knew where he lived or what his family was like.

That kind of silence pulled at you, and one afternoon, while walking home from school beside him, you gave in to curiosity. “Do you have a dog at home?” you asked, smiling up at him. It was a random question to just start a topic about his life.

Kai looked at you for a moment, then gave a small shrug and a soft smile.

“Sure. Yeah I do.”

“Can I see it?”

He nodded. “Of course.”

You walked a few more blocks in silence until he stopped in front of a narrow alleyway. You hesitated, glancing at the dark path.

“Here?” you asked.

Kai didn’t answer. Instead, he gently took your hand and led you to a side door of a tall, quiet building. It didn’t feel like a home. More like an abandoned warehouse — but warmer, strangely lived-in.

Music played faintly from somewhere inside, giving the air a dreamy, unreal quality. You paused in the dim hallway.

“So… where’s the dog?”

Kai smiled again — that same calm, unreadable expression that made your skin tingle. Then he stepped behind you. Something cold brushed your neck.

Click.

You froze. “Um…?” His arms slid around your shoulders, close but not forceful. You felt the soft pressure of his body behind yours, grounding and terrifying all at once.

“Where is it?” you asked again, your voice suddenly fragile.

Kai leaned in, his breath ghosting over your skin as he whispered, “It’s right here.” You blinked, confused—until you looked down. Around your neck was a smooth leather collar, snug and cool against your skin. A small metal tag glinted faintly under the hallway light.

Your fingers trembled as they touched it. Your eyes darted up to meet his.

“You said… a dog,” you said, voice cracking.

“I did,” Kai murmured, lips brushing your ear. “I never said it wasn’t you.” You tried to back away, but his arms were already around you. Not tight. Not painful. Just… steady.

“You always followed me like a stray,” he whispered. “You came looking, didn’t you? You wanted to see what was behind the curtain. And now… here you are.”

Your pulse roared in your ears. “This isn’t funny—”

“I’m not joking,” he said. His voice shifted — lower now, edged with something sharp. “And I am not that cruel but..,” he added, dragging his fingers slowly along the collar around your throat, tightening it just enough that you felt the pressure rise, your breath catch.

“..I don’t pretend to be good.” Your heartbeat thundered in your chest. Kai tilted your chin up with two fingers, forcing your eyes to meet his.

There was no smile now — only hunger, possessive and dark, simmering just beneath the surface. “I didn’t bring you here to show you a dog,” he murmured. “I brought you here because I was done waiting. You’ve been sniffing around me like you wanted something. And now you’re going to get it.”

"You know what they say right? Curiosity kills the cat. Well.. in this case, it's a cute little dog." He whispers that in your ear.

You flinched as his grip on your chin tightened just a little more — not enough to hurt, not yet, but enough to tell you he could.

“I watched you,” he whispered. “Every time you laughed. Every time you looked at someone else. You don’t even realize how loud you are when you want to be wanted.”

Your lips parted — you weren’t sure if to protest or plead. But he didn’t give you the chance. “I don’t do ‘maybe,’” he said. “If you stay, you stay on your knees. If you leave, I’ll let you walk out that door. Once.” That was a lie. He would never let you just leave, but he wanted to see what you would say.

The air felt suffocating. His presence towered over you, swallowing the room whole. You should’ve screamed. You should’ve fought. But deep down, part of you burned with slight desire.

The thrill of being seen. Known. Possessed. Kai leaned in until your foreheads nearly touched. His voice dropped to a velvet threat.

“You belong to me now. Say it.” You didn’t. But you didn’t move away either. He smiled — finally — but it was slow and twisted.

His thumb brushed over your lips.“Good pet,” he said, even though you hadn’t spoken. You were confused because he praised you even if you didnt say the words.

“You don’t need words yet. Just obedience.” (He was happy that you didnt run away, that was enough evidence that you wanted this apparently)

He turned and walked toward the end of the hallway, motioning with a curl of his fingers.

“Crawl.”

You blinked. “What—?”

“I said crawl,” Kai repeated, eyes flicking back to you, and this time there was no patience. “Dogs walk on all fours.”

Your cheeks burned. Shame warred with heat, with the low pull of adrenaline and curiosity. You were trembling — but not from fear alone. And then, slowly, you dropped to your hands and knees. His boots echoed as he kept walking ahead, waiting for you to follow.

And you did. You crawled behind him, palms scraping against the worn wooden floor. The air in the warehouse felt colder now. Every step you took on all fours chipped away at whatever pride you still had left — and you could feel Kai watching, even without turning around.

He finally stopped in front of a heavy black door. When he pushed it open, the space beyond was dimly lit, barely furnished — a mattress on the floor, a leash hanging from a hook on the wall, a single bowl resting beside it.

A bowl. Your stomach twisted. Kai turned to face you, arms crossed loosely over his chest, eyes scanning you like you were something he’d just purchased.

“Sit,” he said.

You hesitated. His head tilted. “I don’t repeat commands. That was your warning.”

Reluctantly, you sat back on your heels, knees pressed together, hands resting in your lap like a trained animal.

He approached slowly, crouching down to your level. His fingers reached under your chin, forcing your gaze upward.

“You don’t look like much now,” he said softly. “But strays… strays can be taught.”

You tried to look away, but his grip tightened just enough to keep you still.

“No,” he said. “Eyes on me. Always.” You swallowed hard. Kai stood and walked over to the wall. You heard the soft jingle before you saw it — the leash.

He clipped it onto the ring of the collar with a cold click, and a sick sort of pride gleamed in his eyes.

“There,” he said. “Now it’s official.”

He gave the leash a firm tug, making your body jolt forward a little on instinct. He didn’t laugh. He didn’t grin. He just stared, serious and still.

“This is how it works now,” he said. “You don’t eat unless I say. You don’t speak unless I let you. You don’t stand unless I command it.”

He walked around you in a slow circle like a predator inspecting his prize.

“I don’t want a partner or a lover,” he said. “I want obedience. Silence. Loyalty.”

He stopped behind you, fingers brushing the nape of your neck — not gentle, but claiming. “You don’t have to like it,” he whispered. “You just have to listen.”

Then he dropped the leash at your knees, stepped back, and sat down on the edge of the mattress.

“Well?” he said, voice cold. “Show me you can follow.”

The silence stretched.And you knew — whatever line you crossed by entering that building, there was no walking back out of it now.

He looked down at you. His eyes travelling down to your legs and back up.

"Pathetic." He says with a mocking tone.

You felt yourself feeling hotter now. Something burning between your thighs. You looked up at him, trying not to whine like the dog he treated you as. You looked into his eyes. "What...what do you want me to do?"

He smirks slightly. "Oh? So your willing to do anything huh? That's what i expect from a dog like you anyway. Come closer. Crawl your way to me."

You felt ashamed and humiliated but you still listened to him, crawling and stopping right infront of his legs.

He raised an eyebrow."That's it? Why the fuck are you keeping distance from me, hm?" He reached out and grabs your hair tightly, pulling you right in between his pants.

"Ah—" You gasped.

"Get to work. Show me how well you follow orders, slut." He says, looking down at you, while he almost crushes your face right there.

"I- wait—" You struggle a bit.

He feels impatient. "What? You want me to do all the damn work now huh?" He removes his zipper. "You know what to do. Take it in your mouth and suck."

"J-just let me adjust a bit please—" You try to reason with him, squirming and trying to face away from his boxer.

"I told you that I dont repeat commands." He rubs you between your legs with his boot harshly, trying not to smirk looking at your breathless expression.

"Fuck....I'm sorry....m'sorry—" You hold onto his thighs with both your hands, pleading. You remove his boxer trembling as he keeps pushing up at your private with his boot.

He looks down at you almost bored. It makes you feel like he's looking down at you, like you're some animal who's not doing a good job.

He angles your head to his cock. Your mouth opening slightly, tongue rolling around his tip.

"Fuck—" He decides to let you do your thing for a while.

You give him small licks, almost teasing him. You open your mouth a bit wider now, pushing yourself closer, trying to adjust comfortably. But he had other plans.

He shoves you down almost immediately, gripping your hair tighter now. Your eyes widen, gagging slightly.

"What? You think you can get away with teasing me? Huh bitch?" He groans feeling you gag on him.

"Ah.. just knew you give the best blow jobs. You've always been pathetic, following me around. You probably wanted this all along. To be treated like a damn dog."

You look up at him, trying to deny his words. Before you could do that he pulled you up and down, bobbing your head on his cock. Your eyes looking up at him were now rolling to the back of your head.

You felt used. He didn't give a fuck if you were choking or gagging, he just needed this for his pleasure.

"Ahh.. fuck. Such a good little whore for me." He looks up, groaning in ecstasy. He rubs you with his boot again, making you jerk.

You squeezed your thighs together, moaning onto him. He felt those moans right there. He continued bobbing you up and down, getting closer.

You grip on his thighs, trying to pull away to catch a breath.

"The fuck are you doing? Shut up and let me do what I want to you." He says breathing hard and continued to thrust in your throat. Keeping you still on his cock while cumming hard.

"Ah...fuck..fuckk..." He moaned while looking up. His cum filling your mouth, some of it dripping down to your chin.

"Swallow. Don’t waste any of it."

You pulled away after a while, coughing and sputtering. His cum spilling all over his boots.

"The fuck did I just say? I told you to swallow, slut."

He slaps you. Your cheek feeling the sting. You bite your lip to not let out a moan accidentally. He looks down at his boots and then at you.

"Clean up." He said. Not explaining further.

He leans back on the bed, his abs flexing as he stretched back. He looks down at you, waiting.

"No..wait I'm sorry... it spilled by accident.." You look down not wanting to clean his boot.

"Tsk. Never damn listen to orders. So disobedient." He sat back up and grabs your hair again. He pushes you down all the way to his boots, pressing your face against it, leaving you no choice.

With tears in your eyes you cleaned them with your tongue, feeling absolutely degraded. He pulls you back up by the leash, smirking at you.

He pets your hair softly with one hand while the other held onto your leash, pulling on it tightly.

"My good dog."