#keep baring yourself to me. you're just doing what neither of us are saying

[nemo-writes]

𝗂𝗆𝖺𝗀𝗂𝗇𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝖿 141 + 𝗏𝖺𝗊𝗎𝖾𝗋𝗈𝗌 𝖺𝗌 𝗋𝗈𝗆𝖼𝗈𝗆 𝗍𝗋𝗈𝗉𝖾𝗌 ; 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝗍𝗐𝗈 ── .✦

── .✦ 𝗌𝗈𝖺𝗉 ; "𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝗈𝗌𝗍 𝗉𝗈𝗉𝗎𝗅𝖺𝗋 𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗌𝗈𝗇 𝗂𝗇 𝗌𝖼𝗁𝗈𝗈𝗅 𝖺𝗍 𝖻𝖺𝗌𝖾 𝖿𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗌 𝗂𝗇 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗌𝗍 𝗉𝗈𝗉𝗎𝗅𝖺𝗋 𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗌𝗈𝗇."

It’s day three of bed rest, and Soap’s already climbed up the walls of his room and back down again. Injured or not, he’s never been one to sit still, and being restricted to the base with “no hard jobs, no missions”—as the medic had stressed—has left him itching for something to do. Restless, he decides to wander, eventually finding himself at the library-slash-records room, a quiet corner of base he’s never thought to visit before.

He thumbs through a book on the nearest shelf, flipping pages more out of boredom than actual interest, when a voice behind him makes him nearly jump out of his skin.

“Good choice,” you say casually, glancing over his shoulder at the book in his hands. “I read that one when I was a teenager.”

Soap whips around, wide-eyed and ready to defend himself before he registers you standing there, a bemused smile on your face. It’s not often anyone manages to sneak up on him, especially after working alongside Ghost—but here you are, quiet as a shadow.

“Christ, you gave me a fright!” He laughs, trying to shake off his surprise. “You a ghost yourself, or just a natural sneak?”

“Neither,” you reply with a shrug. “I just work here. Records department.”

He raises an eyebrow, tilting his head with a hint of scepticism. “Records, aye? Right, sure. So… what squad d’you belong to, then?”

You laugh, not seeming to mind his incredulity. “No squad. No task force, either. Just a regular base staff member. I make sure all your physical files stay organised, is all.”

“Well, I didn't expect to find a hidden gem like you in here,” he says, putting on his usual flirty grin, expecting some kind of blush or maybe even a shy look.

But you just give another amused smile. “I’m not a gem, just the records keeper. I also stock the books,” you add, gesturing around. “Figured a small library might be good for those interested. We don’t have much, but it’s a nice change of pace for some people.”

The flirting sails right over your head, and Soap’s grin falters ever so slightly before he recovers. “Ah, so you're the one to thank for this wee slice of quiet paradise on base, huh?”

You nod, a touch of pride slipping through as you straighten a few already-tidy books. “It’s simple, but I like to keep things in order here for whoever wants to pick up something to read.”

Soap tries another grin, leaning against a shelf, his tone softening just a bit. “Well, reckon I’ll be a regular if it means more chats like this. Seems like a fair deal, yeah?”

But you only hum thoughtfully, eyes scanning the shelf beside him, clearly cataloguing if anything’s out of place. Soap finds himself smirking, both amused and oddly challenged by how thoroughly you’ve ignored his attempts to charm you. He realises with a quiet laugh that this just might be the break he needed.

. . .

In the quiet of his quarters, Soap lounges on his bunk with the phone pressed to his ear, listening to his mum and sister talk about his childhood. It had started with the usual check-in—hearing how he was healing, how things were on base—and soon drifted into familiar family banter.

His sister, Cait, laughs as she recalls his ‘miraculous’ ability to get hurt every other day growing up. “Remember when you broke both your arms jumping off that shed roof, John?” she teases, barely stifling her laughter. “Mum had to practically wrap you in bubble wrap.”

“Aye, aye, laugh it up,” Soap mutters, though he’s grinning. “Was tryin’ to perfect my landing, is all.”

His mum’s voice chimes in with a fond chuckle, “Perfect it you did, son. Broke both arms and had us all in stitches—not just ‘cause of the casts, but because you couldn’t stop fidgeting.”

“Oh, I remember,” he groans, recalling the itch of the casts and the boredom of sitting still for weeks. “I was goin’ mad with nothing to do!”

“That’s why I read to you,” his mum adds, the warmth in her voice audible even over the line. “You were always restless, even with two arms in casts.”

Soap’s grin turns a bit softer. “I remember that… just not the book itself. Somethin’ about a fox and a forest?”

His mum hums thoughtfully. “It was a sweet story, but I can’t recall the title. Do you, Cait?”

Cait only chuckles, clearly drawing a blank. “Oh, I remember the fuss he made, but the book? Not a chance.”

Soap shakes his head, feeling a little pang of nostalgia. “Wouldn’t mind findin’ it again someday. Reminds me of home.”

A few days later, Soap strides through the hallway, his arm still snug in a sling but his energy undeterred. He greets everyone he passes, effortlessly drawing smiles and laughter from a few soldiers standing by the vending machines. A corporal waves, and Soap flashes him a quick grin, offering a joking salute with his free hand. 

But today, he’s not here to soak up the attention. His steps have purpose, carrying him straight back to the quiet sanctuary of the records room. When he steps inside, the calm hits him like a breath of fresh air. His eyes land on you instantly, tucked in the back of the room, your head bent over something on the desk.

You’re focused, scribbling notes or reading from a thick stack of papers, and for a moment, Soap just watches. There’s something about the way the light catches on your face, the peaceful concentration you exude. He doesn’t even realise he’s smiling until his cheeks ache slightly. He adjusts his posture and clears his throat, strolling over casually, pretending not to notice the way his pulse picks up just a bit.

“Hey, there,” he says, his voice breaking the quiet like a soft ripple on a still pond. You glance up, blinking at the interruption, and he swears there’s a flicker of recognition in your gaze that makes his chest tighten.

“Back again?” you tease lightly, setting your pen down. “Getting into trouble already?”

“Nah, just takin’ it easy,” he says, his tone breezy. “Needed a break from bein’ so popular, y’know? The fans are relentless.” He winks, and you roll your eyes, though there’s a smile tugging at your lips.

He shifts slightly, leaning his good arm against the edge of the desk. “Actually, I was hopin’ you might be able to help me with somethin’. Feels a bit daft, but here goes.” He scratches the back of his neck, suddenly feeling the weight of how silly this might sound. “There’s this book. From when I was a kid. My Ma read it to me when I broke both arms once—don’t ask,” he adds quickly, grinning sheepishly. “But I can’t remember the title. Just bits of it.”

That piques your interest. You sit up a little straighter, curiosity lighting up your features. “What do you remember about it?” you ask, your tone genuinely warm.

Soap exhales, relieved you haven’t laughed him off, and starts piecing it together. “Right, so it was about this fox. A scrappy wee thing, always gettin’ into trouble. Lived in a forest, sneakin’ around like it owned the place. There was… a badger, I think? Big, grumpy fella, always tellin’ the fox to stop bein’ reckless. But the fox didn’t listen—bit of a troublemaker, that one.”

You nod, your attention fixed on him, and it spurs him on. “One part I remember clear as day—there was a trap. The fox got its paw caught, and I thought it was done for. Had my heart in my throat. My Ma kept tellin’ me it’d be fine, but I was sweatin’ over it.” He chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck as if to brush off the emotion. “Then there was somethin’ about the forest gettin’ destroyed, so the fox had to leave. Find a new home, y’know?”

You lean forward slightly, completely drawn in, and it makes his pulse quicken. “That sounds… really sweet, actually. And a little sad.”

“Aye, it was,” he says, his voice softer now. “Hit me like a brick back then. Think I might’ve cried—don’t tell anyone that,” he adds quickly, wagging a finger with mock severity.

Your smile widens. “I wouldn’t dream of it. But… you’re describing it so vividly. I might know it. Hang on.” You tap your chin thoughtfully, sorting through your mental catalog of titles. Soap watches you closely, his expression softening as you mentally sift through the possibilities. After a moment, you shake your head, regret flashing in your eyes. “I think I know the book, but I don’t have it here. Sorry.”

Soap raises his brows, clearly impressed. “You’ve got a memory like a steel trap, lass. How d’you even keep track of all that?”

You wave him off modestly, a faint smile tugging at your lips. “It’s nothing, really. I just like books. Spend enough time with them, and you start remembering the little details.”

“Still,” you say, your tone tinged with determination. “I’ll keep an eye out. If it crosses my path, I’ll make sure you’re the first to know.”

Soap’s grin widens, his eyes crinkling in that way that makes it hard to look away. “Aye, I’ll hold you to that.” His voice softens, and for a moment, there’s a quiet warmth between you that neither of you rush to fill.

“Thanks,” he says finally, the sincerity in his tone catching you slightly off guard. “You’re good company, y’know that?”

Before you can reply, he pushes off the desk with his good arm, the playful edge returning to his expression as he gives you a wink. “Don’t let me distract you too much, aye? I’ll see myself out.”

You manage a small laugh, watching as he makes his way toward the door, the faint scent of his cologne lingering in his wake. But just as he steps into the hallway, he pauses, glancing back through the open door.

For a brief second, his gaze softens, the memory of the fox, his Ma’s soothing voice, and the quiet comfort of your little nook weaving together to warm a part of him he hadn’t realised needed it. With a nod to himself, he turns away, the thought of returning already forming in the back of his mind.

. . .

The cafeteria buzzed with the usual hum of conversation and clatter of trays. Soap, now out of his sling and feeling like himself again, sat among Gaz, Ghost, and a few others from the base, his laughter loud and infectious as they swapped stories and teased one another. His attention was fully on Gaz’s exaggerated recounting of a drill mishap when Ghost’s gravelly voice cut through the din.

“Oi, Johnny. Little mouse headed this way.”

Soap blinked, confused, until Ghost gave a subtle nod toward the figure approaching from behind. Soap twisted around, and his breath hitched the moment he spotted you.

Springing to his feet far too quickly, Soap’s knee hit the table with a loud clang, trays rattling dangerously. The others shouted half-hearted complaints, but Soap didn’t care. All his attention was on you, standing there with a paper bag in hand, a shy smile gracing your lips.

“I—uh—hi,” Soap stammered, suddenly unsure of himself as you held the bag out toward him.

“I found it,” you said simply, your tone giddy. “Thought you might like to have it.”

He stared at the bag, then at you, before carefully taking it from your hands. His fingers brushed yours briefly, and he swore he felt a spark. Peeking inside, his jaw dropped. There it was—the book. The cover was pristine, like it had just been pulled from a bookstore shelf.

“You didn’t…” he began, but words failed him. His gaze flicked between the book and your face, awe written plainly across his features.

You chuckled softly, patting the hand that held the book. “It’s no big deal. Enjoy it, yeah?”

And with that, you turned and walked away, leaving Soap frozen in place. He watched you go, only snapping out of his trance when Gaz whistled low under his breath. Soap turned back to the table, clutching the bag as if it held a treasure.

Seated back at the table, the book resting carefully in his lap, he barely touched his food, his usual chatter replaced by a soft, distracted smile. He flipped the book over in his hands, running his thumb along the edges of the paper bag, his thoughts clearly elsewhere.

“Someone’s got a fan,” Gaz teased, grinning.

“Shut it,” Soap muttered, his cheeks flushing.

But the teasing didn’t stop there. One of the younger men at the table, a mechanic who had joined the base recently, leaned forward, asking him about you with a smirk edged with something he didn’t like, at all.

Soap’s expression darkened instantly, his jaw clenching. Ghost, always the observer, grumbled lowly. “Leave it, lad,” he warned, his voice a quiet rumble. The mechanic wisely dropped the subject.

As the conversation shifted back to base gossip, Soap’s focus stayed on the book in his hands. He traced the edges of the paper bag absentmindedly, his mind replaying the moment you’d handed it to him and the warmth of your hand on his. His smile widened, soft and genuine, as he looked the book over again, the edges of the paper bag crinkling beneath his fingers.

Ghost glanced at Soap briefly, noting the faraway look in his eyes. With a barely audible snort, he shook his head and returned to his meal, leaving the smitten Scotsman to his thoughts.

. . .

Soap spent the better part of the next day scouring every corner of the base, peeking into offices, workshops, and even the records room during normal hours, hoping to catch a glimpse of you. Each empty space only added to his frustration.

“Sneaky little mouse," he muttered under his breath with an undeniable smile, hands on his hips.

His gripping earned a chuckle from Gaz, who leaned back in his chair and exchanged a knowing look with Ghost. “Maybe you’re just not lookin’ in the right places, mate,” Gaz teased, popping a peanut into his mouth.

Ghost, however, offered a rare bit of practical advice. “Try the rec room. Late hours.” His tone was low, but there was a glint of amusement in his eyes. “Sometimes I go there when I can’t sleep. Tea’s decent, and I watch matches on my phone. Could be she’s got the same idea.”

Soap perked up at the suggestion, nodding gratefully. “Aye, worth a shot. Thanks, mate!"

Later that evening, Soap made his way to the rec room. The base was quieter, the halls dimly lit, and the faint hum of a vending machine filled the otherwise empty space. As he approached the rec room, the soft clink of a kettle caught his attention. Peering in, he spotted you by the small kitchenette, the warm glow of the stove’s light illuminating your face as you poured hot water into a mug.

For a moment, he hesitated. His usual bravado faltered as he took in the calm scene, unsure how to approach without disturbing the peaceful air you carried with you. But then, squaring his shoulders, he stepped inside.

“Didn’t think I’d find you 'ere,” he said, his voice low but carrying a playful lilt.

You glanced over your shoulder, surprised but smiling softly when you saw him. “Evening, Sergeant. Tea, late-night stroll, or both?”

He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Both, maybe. Been lookin’ for you, actually. You’ve got a knack for disappearin’, y’know.”

You turned back to the stove, shaking your head lightly as you reached for another mug. “You found me now, didn’t you? Want some tea?”

“Aye, thanks.” Soap approached, watching as you handed him the steaming mug. He cradled it, savoring the warmth in his hands. “Listen, about the book…”

You waved him off, cutting him off before he could continue. “It’s nothing, really. I should be the one thanking you. You’ve shown interest in the books and my little corner. It means a lot to have someone notice.”

Soap blinked, caught off guard by your words. Before you could turn back around to retrieve your own mug, he reached out, catching your hand. His fingers curled around yours gently, his thumb brushing the back of your knuckles.

The contact was warm, steady, and startlingly tender.

“No,” he said, his voice dropping to a softer tone. “It wasn’t nothin’. You went out of your way for me, and… it means more than I can say.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but the words caught in your throat when he lifted your hand, pressing a lingering kiss to your fingers. His lips were warm, his expression earnest as he looked up at you, gratitude and something deeper shining in his eyes.

For once, you were the one left speechless, your heart skipping a beat as the weight of his sincerity settled over you. Soap released your hand gently, his fingers lingering for just a moment before pulling back.

“Thank you,” he said again, his voice a near whisper.

You swallowed, your cheeks feeling uncharacteristically warm. “You’re welcome, Sergeant,” you managed, offering him a soft smile.

“Stay a while?” he asked, nodding toward the small table tucked into the corner.

Your heart skipped a beat, and before you could overthink it, you nodded, moving to sit down. He followed, his mug cradled in his hands as he eased into the chair across from you. The quiet hum of the room settled over you both, broken only by the soft clink of his mug against the table as he set it down.

For a moment, neither of you spoke, but the silence wasn’t uncomfortable. Instead, it felt warm, almost fragile, like something new and precious was taking root between you.

“You’ve got a knack for this,” he said, his tone low and easy.

“For what?” you asked, taking a sip of your tea.

“Doin’ things that catch a man off guard,” he replied, his blue eyes glinting with something playful yet sincere. “Like huntin’ down a book I barely remembered just to give me a piece of my past back.”

You waved him off modestly, though the compliment made your chest tighten in an unfamiliar way. "It's...just a book."

“To you, maybe,” he countered, his voice soft. “To me, it’s somethin’ more. And so’s this.”

He gestured vaguely, encompassing the quiet space you now shared, the table between you feeling more like a bridge than a barrier.

You lowered your gaze to your mug, the steam curling upward as you processed his words. There was a warmth in his voice, an openness you hadn’t expected but found yourself leaning into.

When you finally looked up, Soap was watching you, his gaze steady and filled with something unspoken. You held his eyes, the corners of your lips curving into a smile that matched his.

“This is nice,” you murmured, almost to yourself.

“Aye,” he agreed, his voice low. “It is.”

And as the two of you sat there, sipping tea and sharing quiet smiles, the space between you seemed to shrink, the glow of the moment wrapping around you both like a promise of something more to come.

banner credit

[therruiner]

Don't fuckng say that. Don't fucking invite me don't talk like that when you know what it does and the fact I can't do a fucking thing about it.

[ddejavvu]

Helloo!! Sooo I have a picture of mgg as my lock screen but his face isn’t in the picture and I was wonderinggg if you could write about the girls at the bau seeing your background of your phone and it’s some guy but they don’t know it’s spencer and they ask all these questions about this mysterious secret boyfriend you have and asking to meet him and r is just like maybeeee idk knowing that they have in fact met him and maybe spencer is near by and hearing all this and is just all shy and flustered. If you do write this THANK YOUUU you’re writing it phenomenal, one of a kind, it’s so good!!! <333

"Woah, hubba hubba," JJ's eyes bug out at your phone screen, and Emily, forever on JJ's wavelength, snatches it out of your hands before you can properly dim the screen.

"Who is that?" Emily asks everyone's burning question, and one of Penelope's hands squeezes yours, with nails, to emphasize her urgency.

Your lock screen is a picture of Spencer's bare chest clad only in a blazer, the front open in a lewd V that showcases the dark pink kiss marks you'd spread across the smattering of wiry curls he's grown. It's not something you'd meant to flash your coworkers with, and Spencer chokes on his water while Derek hoots and hollers at it.

"There are some things that should be kept private," Rossi drawls, eyes wide and haunted as he stands, "I'm going to get Aaron and myself another refill, just in case any worse pictures get shown around the table."

Hotch laughs at the older man, amusement lining his features handsomely as the group continues to tease you.

"So, when are you bringing this guy around? Not that we'd recognize him anyways, unless he showed up shirtless with lipstick all over him."

"Derek, you-" You barely stop yourself from saying, 'you have met him', instead swerving into an easy insult, "You're the last person I want to introduce him to. You'll never let us live this down."

"None of us will." Prentiss promises, her grin wolfish, "You'll be lucky if Garcia doesn't manage to track him down using nipple-recognition software."

Your technical analyst cackles into her drink, and Spencer makes a hasty getaway.

"I need the bathroom," He paws with burning cheeks at Derek's leg, ushering the man out of his way so that he can speed-walk to the bathroom. You watch him go, hearing Hotch let out a rare laugh at his urgency.

"Poor Spence," JJ croons, "Did you see how red his face was?"

"That kid's almost thirty and I bet he can't even say the word 'sex' without blushing." Derek scoffs.

"He can't. I've seen it." Garcia confirms, "It's pathetic."

"Pathetic," You snort, but what your team hears as agreement, you mean as contradiction. Spencer was nothing close to pathetic that night- sweet and tender, yes, but pathetic, no. He'd cupped your face while you'd spread a smattering of sticky kisses across his chest, and he'd stared into your eyes when you'd taken the picture, a smile on his face even though he'd known his grin wouldn't be in frame.

"Well get all of it out now," Hotch advises, a teasing tone in his voice, "Spencer won't come back if we're still talking about it."

"I'm happy for you." Dave states, setting his and Aaron's drinks down, "But so help me, Y/N, if I ever see your boyfriend's naked torso again, I'll kill myself."

You refrain from telling Rossi he had just seen your boyfriend's bare torso, last week when Spencer had needed to be stripped of his cold, wet clothes, and thrust into a heated blanket for warmth. No one had batted an eye at his brief nudity, and neither had you, because you'd memorized every inch of his skin. You didn't need to ogle him; you could recall his body from memory.

"I'll keep that in mind." You nod at Rossi sagely, "Just don't go through the rest of my camera roll." You see Spencer exit the bathroom, peering cautiously at your table to see if he can predict the conversation before returning, "Or you'll find a lot worse than his chest."

[deliciousangelfestival]

The Imperfect Couple - 11

Character: politician!Bucky x ex-wife!reader

Summary: A separated couple must pretend to be happily married while the husband runs for Vice President, dealing with old issues and political pressures during his election campaign.

Warning: The couple's arguments could be triggering.

Chapter 1 , Chapter 2 , Chapter 3 , Chapter 4 , Chapter 5 , Chapter 6 , Chapter 7 , Chapter 8 , Chapter 9 , Chapter 10 , Chapter 11 , Chapter 12 , Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist || If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee on Ko-fi 🙏🏻

Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

As Bucky stood in front of you, his expression calm, like everything was normal, a surge of anger rose within you. After everything that had just happened—after he spilled details of your private life to the press—you couldn’t believe he had the audacity to act like it meant nothing.

"You thought that telling the press about our marriage would magically make everyone stay quiet? That we’d just be OK?" Your voice was sharp, cutting through the air like a blade. You watched as his jaw tightened, but he didn’t answer.

"And now… you’re still keeping secrets." You shook your head, frustration and disbelief coursing through you. "Now it’s about Steve."

Bucky's eyes flickered with something—guilt, maybe. He hesitated for a moment, then spoke coldly, "About that. I will bring it to my grave."

His words hit you harder than any blow could have. You stepped closer, heart pounding in your chest, barely able to control the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside. "Your grave? That’s your answer?"

You laughed bitterly, though there was no humor in it. "How dare you stand there and act like that’s acceptable? How dare you think you can keep doing this—lying, manipulating, keeping me in the dark—just because you think you’re protecting me?"

Bucky’s eyes narrowed, but he stayed silent. That silence only fueled your anger further.

"You think I don’t know what you’re doing? You’re so used to pulling the strings, making decisions behind everyone’s back, and pretending like it’s all for the greater good. But you’re not saving anyone, Bucky. Least of all me." Your voice cracked, and you hated yourself for it—hated how much you still cared, despite everything.

He opened his mouth, but you didn’t let him speak.

"You think after everything I’ve been through with your family, with Steve, that I don’t deserve the truth? That I’m just supposed to trust you after everything you’ve done to me? After you let them destroy me?" Your voice rose, the pain spilling out of you like a flood that had been held back for far too long.

"You didn’t protect me then, and you’re not protecting me now. You're protecting yourself. Because you're scared. You're scared that once I know the whole truth, I’ll finally be done with you."

Bucky’s face was set in stone, but you could see the cracks forming. His silence was loud, deafening, but you weren’t done. You weren’t letting him get away with it this time.

"You think I’m stupid enough to believe that this—whatever this is—is love? You control everything. You manipulate everything around you so that you never have to feel like you’re losing. But you are, Bucky." You stepped back, your chest rising and falling with the weight of everything you were saying. "You’re losing me. Every secret you keep, every lie you tell, you’re pushing me further away."

For a long moment, neither of you spoke. The room felt too small, the air too thick. Bucky’s fists clenched at his sides, but still, he didn’t say a word.

"I’m glad I never got pregnant," you whispered, voice shaking. "I’m glad I never brought a child into this—into your mess. Because no child deserves to grow up with a father like you."

That was the final blow, and you saw it hit him like a punch to the gut. His eyes darkened, and for the first time, Bucky seemed truly shaken. But even then, he said nothing.

The silence between you stretched, unbearable, suffocating. You turned away from him, the weight of your words still hanging in the air, and walked out. Neither of you said anything as you left the room, but you both knew that something had broken between you—something that might never be fixed.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

As the door closed behind you, Bucky stood frozen, your words reverberating through his mind like the relentless echo of a nightmare. "I'm glad I never got pregnant."

That one sentence hit him harder than any punch he'd ever taken, harder than any bullet wound or battle scar. It was as if you had found the one part of him still vulnerable, still aching—the part he had tried so hard to protect—and you had driven a dagger straight into it.

The idea of building a family with you had always been his greatest hope, even if he had never said it out loud. He had pictured it in quiet moments, in the silence of the night when his thoughts wandered. A future with you—a family. The idea of you carrying his child, of starting something new and pure with you, had always been a flicker of light in the darkness that consumed him.

But now, that light was gone.

The bitterness of your words seeped into him, mixing with the sour taste of guilt that had been festering inside him for years. He clenched his fists, staring at the space where you had stood, feeling the weight of everything he had done—or failed to do—crushing down on him.

You’re losing me. Every secret you keep, every lie you tell, you’re pushing me further away.

He had never meant for it to be this way. He had convinced himself, again and again, that the lies, the manipulation, the control—it was all to protect you. To keep you safe from the chaos of his world. But in doing so, he had become the very thing that was destroying you. He was supposed to shield you, to be your safe haven, and yet here you were, crumbling before him because of his choices.

But you are, Bucky. You’re losing me.

The thought of losing you—of you walking away from him for good—was unbearable. He had always believed that no matter what happened, he could somehow fix things, that he could make you see that everything he did, he did out of love. But now, standing in the aftermath of your fury, he realized that he had underestimated just how deep the damage went.

The one dream that had kept him grounded—the thought of a family, a future with you—was now tainted. What was once a vision of hope and happiness now felt sour, like something spoiled and irreparable. The idea of a family with you, once so precious and sacred in his heart, now felt like a bitter reminder of all the ways he had failed you.

And the worst part? He knew it was his fault. He had driven you to this point, pushed you to the edge with his secrets and his selfishness. He had always told himself he was doing it for you, but now he saw the truth: it had been for him. He was terrified of losing control, terrified of losing you, and in trying to hold on too tightly, he had begun to suffocate the very thing he cherished most.

Bucky swallowed hard, the taste of regret sharp on his tongue. He had always been good at compartmentalizing his feelings, at shoving his pain deep down where it couldn’t touch him. But not this time. This time, there was no escaping the ache. The words you had thrown at him had hit their mark with deadly precision, and there was no denying the truth in them.

His Achilles' heel—his desire to build a family with you, to have a life with you—was now the source of his deepest pain. And as much as he wanted to believe he could fix it, that he could win you back, a cold, bitter part of him knew that it might be too late.

For the first time, Bucky felt something he hadn’t in a long time: true helplessness. The kind that gnawed at his chest, leaving a hollow ache behind.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

After the heated argument with Bucky, you retreated to your room, feeling the weight of the conversation bearing down on you. The tension between you two was suffocating, and you needed to escape—if only for a moment. Grabbing your phone, you called Greg.

“Is there an activity that doesn’t involve me being around Bucky?” you asked, your voice strained.

“After the recent debate, the two of you don’t have many joint schedules. You can pretty much do whatever you want,” Greg replied.

You sighed, staring at the ceiling. “What am I going to do?” you murmured to yourself, feeling utterly lost. Just then, your phone buzzed with a text from Hazel: ‘Can you babysit Nate for a while?’

A smile tugged at your lips, the tension momentarily lifting. Babysitting Nate felt like the perfect distraction. You quickly typed back: ‘Yes.’

An idea struck you. You decided to pick him up from school yourself, giving you something to occupy your mind. Arriving at the prestigious Catholic school, you were struck by its grandeur—stately brick buildings, perfectly manicured lawns, and an imposing church at the center of the campus. You shouldn’t have been surprised; of course, Nate would attend a place like this, surrounded by privilege and tradition.

As you walked through the campus, the sound of bells ringing faintly in the background, your eyes fell on the old church. Its large wooden doors stood open, inviting anyone seeking solace. You hadn’t set foot inside a church in years, and now, as you watched parents filtering in to pray, something stirred within you.

Your gaze shifted to a woman who emerged from a confessional booth, her face serene. She’d just finished her confession, and for some reason, that simple act gripped you. A sudden, overwhelming urge came over you.

Before you knew it, you were standing inside the dimly lit church, walking down the aisle toward the confessional. You hesitated for a moment, staring at the closed wooden door of the confessional booth, your heart pounding in your chest. Then, with a deep breath, you stepped inside and knelt down.

“Bless me, Father, for I have sinned,” you began, your voice shaky. “It’s been five years since my last confession.”

The priest’s gentle voice echoed through the screen. “Go on, child.”

You took a breath, gathering your thoughts. “I don’t even know where to start. The first thing I need to confess is what my ex-husband—no, my husband—has done to me. All this time, I thought I was free. I thought I’d divorced him, that I was my own person again. But it turns out he never finalized the papers. For five years, I’ve believed I was single. And now… now I find out I’m still married to him.” A bitter laugh escaped your lips. “Isn’t that just the cruelest joke?”

You could hear the priest listening in silence, giving you space to speak.

“The worst part is, he lied to me. He kept this truth from me for years, letting me live in ignorance. I feel like such a fool. And now… he’s forced me into this agreement. A contract, of sorts. One year, he says. One year, and then we’ll officially be divorced. I can’t forgive him for this, for manipulating me into this situation.”

Your hands balled into fists as you spoke, your voice trembling. “He’s changed. I don’t like it. He used to be someone I trusted, but now he’s nothing but a man pulling strings behind the scenes, controlling everything.”

The anger surged through you, but beneath it, something else was there—something you didn’t want to acknowledge.

“I hate myself for agreeing to help him, for pretending like everything’s fine when it’s not. I’m exhausted from lying to myself, from keeping up appearances just to spite his mother. And what’s worse… I still care about him. After everything he’s done, part of me still cares.”

The priest’s voice was calm, gentle. “Child, do you want to quit? To walk away from this?”

You sat there in silence for a moment, your heart heavy with indecision. “No,” you finally whispered, the word almost surprising you. “No, I don’t.”

A bitter laugh escaped your lips again. “It’s funny, Father. I’ve always had this strong instinct to run. Whenever I’ve felt like I needed to get out, to escape a situation, that instinct has never failed me. But now? Now I don’t understand. I could've run. I could've leave him, but…”

The priest’s voice cut through your rambling thoughts. “What feelings do you have now?”

You swallowed hard, the word slipping out before you could stop it. “Stay.”

The silence in the booth seemed to echo that single word. You could feel tears prickling at your eyes, the conflict inside you tearing you apart. “I don’t understand it. Every night, when I’m alone, I think about leaving him, and yet, something inside me tells me to stay. I don’t know why.”

The priest spoke softly, a sense of wisdom in his words. “There is a reason for everything, child. But the answer may not be clear to you yet. You must trust in God’s timing.”

“God’s timing,” you repeated, the words feeling foreign in your mouth.

“It’s no coincidence that you are here today,” the priest continued. “There is a purpose to everything, even when we cannot see it clearly. Trust that God is working in your life, even through your confusion and pain.”

“A purpose?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. “I’m not sure I understand.”

“Sometimes, we are placed in situations not for our own understanding, but to fulfill a greater plan. The burdens you carry now may reveal a deeper truth in time.”

You nodded, feeling a strange sense of calm wash over you, even as the conflict within you remained.

The priest offered a simple prayer for guidance and peace, his voice soft and steady.

You whispered, “Amen,” making the sign of the cross as tears silently streamed down your face.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

After confessing, you stepped out of the confessional booth, feeling an unexpected lightness in your shoulders, as though the weight you'd been carrying for years had been lifted, if only for a moment. A faint smile touched your lips, the tension easing. Then, you heard the bell ring—its echo followed by the excited chatter of children ready to go home.

You waited near the entrance, looking out for Nate, but as minutes passed, he still hadn’t appeared. A sense of worry started to creep in. You scanned the crowd of children, but there was no sign of him. Your footsteps quickened as you walked around, the knot in your stomach tightening.

Then, you heard it—a familiar giggle. You followed the sound and froze. Nate was hanging in midair, swinging by his arms as two tall boys, older than him, held him up at the playground.

And then you saw him. Steve Rogers.

You blinked in disbelief, dumbfounded. What is he doing here?

The two boys—tall, blonde, and strikingly familiar—were clearly the Rogers twins, Steve’s sons. Both carried a mix of Steve and Peggy's features, but Steve's strong genes dominated; their blonde hair and sharp jawlines were unmistakably his.

An unsettled feeling stirred in your chest. There was something about those twins that always made you uneasy, though you couldn't quite pinpoint why. And what were high school boys doing, playing with a first-year elementary kid?

“Aunty!” Nate’s cheerful voice snapped you out of your thoughts. He had noticed you before you could even call out to him. He wriggled free from the boys and sprinted toward you, his small arms reaching out.

Your heart swelled as he hugged you tightly. Compared to the rest of the Barnes family, being with Nate always felt like a breath of fresh air.

“I missed you,” Nate said, his face beaming up at you.

How could your heart not melt at that?

Before you could respond, the Rogers twins greeted you politely, “Hello, Mrs. Barnes.”

You smiled at them, though unease lingered. “Hi, William. Hi, Charles.”

“You still remember us?” William asked, his voice surprisingly mature.

“Of course. And both of you are so kind, playing with Nate,” you replied, though your eyes remained cautious.

“Well, our families are close partners,” Charles added, patting Nate gently on the head. “And our dad told us to be good role models for this champ.”

“Hehe,” Nate giggled, not fully understanding but clearly enjoying being called a champion.

“See you, buddy,” the twins said in unison, giving Nate a fist bump before heading toward their car.

Then Steve approached you, his expression a mix of surprise and something else, as if he hadn’t expected to see you here.

“Hey,” he greeted, his voice calm but with a hint of hesitation.

“Hey,” you replied, crossing your arms instinctively, keeping a certain distance.

Steve glanced at you and then down at Nate, who was busy looking through his backpack. “How are things with you and Bucky?”

Your lips curled into a wry smile. “Sinking ship.”

Steve raised an eyebrow. “Titanic?”

Before you could respond, Nate, ever the sharp listener, jumped in. “Titanic?” he repeated, drawing a laugh from Steve.

"He's a ray of sunshine." Steve chuckled softly and patted Nate’s head in that gentle, fatherly way that almost made you pause. It seemed that in your absence, Steve had grown closer to Nate, filling in a role you hadn’t even realized was vacant.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

As you sat in the car with Nate, the bond between you felt like a warmth you hadn’t experienced in a long time. Nate chatted excitedly beside you, his small hands gesturing animatedly as he talked about how happy he was to stay with you.

“Aunty, I missed you so much! It’s been forever,” he said, his smile infectious. “And guess what? I get to stay with Uncle Bucky too!”

Your heart ached a little at the mention of Bucky, but Nate’s joy overrode it, at least for the moment.

“Yeah?” you replied, brushing a hand through Nate’s hair. “That sounds fun.”

Nate nodded eagerly, and then you remembered the twins. “So, those boys—William and Charles—how do you know them?”

“Oh! I met them on my birthday,” Nate said with excitement. “They and Uncle Steve gave me huge presents. It was so cool!”

“Wow, that’s amazing,” you said, trying to match his enthusiasm.

“Yeah, since then, I’ve had two big brothers,” Nate added with a proud grin. “I always wanted a big brother—or a little brother—or even a little sister,” he said, his tone wistful. “I asked Mom, but she said no.”

He sighed, and you chuckled softly. The memory of meeting Hazel while she was pregnant came to mind. Back then, no one knew who Nate’s father was. Hazel had always kept her lips sealed, refusing to speak about it.

You recalled the heated arguments between Hazel and Caroline. Once, you overheard Hazel snapping, “I already continued the bloodline. I’ve done my duty. I don’t want to get married. Period.”

You had admired her strength, but it also made you realize just how complicated everything had become.

Thinking back, you realized you had never heard of Hazel being in a relationship. With her status and career, she could have any man she wanted. But why was she so close with the Rogers family? What made Steve and the twins come to play with Nate after school?

A curious thought crossed your mind. Could Steve and Hazel have… No, you shook your head, dispelling that notion. It was impossible.

But the curiosity clawed at you. You turned to Nate, your brow furrowed. “Do Uncle Steve and the twins always play with you?”

Nate nodded enthusiastically. “Yes! Uncle Steve stood beside me when the doctor injected me,” he said, lifting his sleeve to show you the sore spot on his arm. “Ouchie!”

You chuckled, leaning over to blow gently on the spot, making him giggle. The sound was infectious, yet it tugged at something deeper within you, a swell of guilt rising as you wished you had kept your curiosity in check. Your instincts were telling you something else entirely.

No matter how close family friends could be, it seemed unlikely that someone like Steve would take the time to accompany Nate for his vaccination. Unless…

Nate's eyes sparkled with excitement as he leaned closer, lowering his voice conspiratorially. “Oh, and he bought me ice cream and pizza! This is a secret, Aunty.” He glanced around, making sure no one was eavesdropping, his expression filled with mischief.

You chuckled, unable to resist his infectious enthusiasm. “That sounds cool!”

Nate nodded vigorously, bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet. “And the big brothers always ask me to watch them play basketball. They’re so cool!” He raised his arms, mimicking a jump shot, his little face lighting up with joy.

You smiled, “Sounds like a blast.”

“My favorite part is after the game,” he continued, his eyes wide with memory. “We always watch movies and eat caramel popcorn. It’s delicious!” He rubbed his belly dramatically, as if savoring the taste all over again.

“Does Uncle Steve also join in watching movies?” you asked, raising an eyebrow, hoping your instincts were wrong. Your heart raced slightly, and you felt a knot tightening in your stomach at the thought.

“Yes!” Nate replied, his enthusiasm unabated. He practically bounced with joy, his small fists clenched as he hopped in place.

You sighed, feeling a frustration bubbling up. Gosh, you hated your overactive imagination and your inability to suppress your investigative instincts.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

When you arrived home, Bucky was already there. As you stepped inside, he stood up, his expression shifting from surprise to something softer at the sight of you. But before he could speak, Nate rushed forward and hugged him tightly, the excitement radiating off the little boy.

“Uncle Bucky!” Nate exclaimed, squeezing him. Bucky’s face lit up with genuine happiness, and he leaned down, pressing a kiss to Nate's head.

“Hey there, champ,” Bucky replied, his voice warm and inviting.

“I have to wash my hands and feet first!” Nate announced, darting off toward the bathroom.

With Nate out of the room, the atmosphere shifted, leaving you and Bucky alone. An awkward tension settled between you, thick enough to cut with a knife. Bucky rubbed the back of his neck, the motion betraying his unease.

“Uhm…” he began, searching for words, his gaze flicking away as if he were weighing his options.

Before he could finish his thought, you interrupted, the words tumbling out before you could stop them. “What made you want to support a liar like Steve?”

His eyes widened, surprise mingling with a flicker of something else—was it defensiveness? Confusion? The air crackled with unspoken questions, and you felt the tension deepen, a mystery hanging between you, waiting to be unraveled.

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[barcaatthemoon]

shared wardrobe || lucy bronze x reader ||

you have a habit of wearing lucy's things out.

you woke with a start. the sun was shining brightly in the sky, and the light poured in through the window. you started to move, but an arm held onto you tightly, trapping you in. slowly, bits of your night came back to you, and with it, the realization that you had definitely missed training that day.

"fuck!" you exclaimed. this time, you managed to separate yourself from lucy's grasp. you hated having to leave the comfort of lucy's bed, but you had promised irene, alexia, and sandra that you'd meet them for lunch after practice.

"shut up and come back here," lucy grumbled. you sighed as you turned around to look at her. she had yet to open her eyes, but you absolutely had to make it. alexia would have your ass if she came to get you only to find that you weren't there.

"i can't stay, but i'll come back after lunch. do you want me to bring you back something to eat?" you offered. lucy shook her head as she buried her face into the spot where you'd been laying. you ran around her room like a headless chicken trying to get ready. lucy managed to fall back asleep before you were gone, and you just barely made it to the restaurant in time.

"nice shirt. when did you start playing for manchester city?" sandra teased as you slid into the seat next to her. you furrowed your brows before glancing down at your shorts. you were definitely wearing your jean shorts from the night before, but instead of picking up the shirt you had meant to, you had accidentally grabbed lucy's shirt on the way out.

"what would poor little ona say if she saw you wearing the shirt of the enemy?" alexia teased. she stood behind you with her hands on your shoulders, massaging in a way that made you a bit nervous. alexia had always been able to do that, in a way that you assumed all big siblings could. you were an only child, but when you joined barcelona and the spanish national team, you had gained more "big sisters" than you knew what to do with.

"congratulations," you muttered as you took a sip of sandra's drink. the goalkeeper let you have it, but she did kick you under the table for your comment. "hey, i've earned this, okay? i'll be sure to pick something else up on my way back too."

"disgusting. i never should have let you room with leila," alexia scoffed. she playfully smacked you upside the head, never hitting you enough to actually hurt. she had come close to it once, and a part of you was convinced that she hadn't forgiven herself for it.

"just be safe and use protection," irene told you. she knew that you'd always be safe, having had a sex talk every single time that one of them or another older player thought you even had crush on someone else. you were nearing 26, but they still treated you like the team baby.

"you guys aren't mad that she's older than me?" you asked. alexia shrunk back as she sat in her seat, more than ashamed for having nearly beaten up mapi when you developed a crush on her. irene and sandra had been a bit confrontational with mapi when she transferred over, but the defender made it clear to them that she wasn't interested. although, neither of you would ever let them know that you had secrectly been dating at the time of her transfer, but she was too stressed trying to keep it a secret from the rest of the girls. "i thought i wasn't allowed to date up like that."

"you're in a different place now. i think that spending time in with lucia will be good for you. she's not much of a partier, and it would do you some good to get yourself out of that habit," irene said. she wanted what was best for you, and in her mind, that was getting you into the habit of settling down. she knew that your party girl persona was just a facade, one that you used to protect yourself from being heartbroken.

"olga may have pointed out to me at the last game how cozy you had been getting, so i am not surprised," alexia admitted. she rubbed the back of her neck awkwardly as she continued, "i just want you to be careful. you are both my friend, and i would not want to have to make any choices."

"don't worry, ale. i know what i'm doing," you told them. you did know what you were doing with lucy, and you knew exactly where you wanted things to go. you wanted everything with her, certain that you had finally found your person. you could see yourself settling down with lucy and starting a family, she was the only person you could see a forever with.

…

"it doesn't fit. the shirt is too small." you looked at lucy with tears in your eyes. whenever lucy had told you about her final game as a lioness, you had prepared yourself for a lot of tears. what you hadn't prepared for was to be pregnant.

the doctor had told you not to expect anything from the test process. you had been inseminated to know what it felt like and to see if any of your eggs could be fertilized. there were a series of tests run that should have killed any activity, but here you were starting to show with your little miracle baby.

"hey, it's okay. calm down, love." lucy put her arms around you and pulled you in for a hug. in the short amount of time that you'd been pregnant, lucy had been great about calming you down. you were a passionate and emotionally intense person, and your hormones were only making it worse.

"no it's not because i can't fit into the jersey, lucy. i don't even look pregnant, i just look fat!" you raised your voice and stomped your feet. lucy walked you back over to the bed and sat you down. there was no way that other people hadn't heard you, and if her teammates had questions, she was more than happy to answer them. each of them cared for you as if you had come up with the rest of them, like you were a lioness as well.

"you aren't fat. we didn't plan on you showing, and that's okay. do you want to wear one of my sweatshirts out so that nobody knows? i've got one from this camp. it doesn't look like the jersey, but it's warm and still has my last name on it," lucy offered. she took the shirt out of your hands as she replaced it with her sweatshirt.

you gingerly put it on. in your mind, it was a bit tight, but you weren't showing in it. lucy smiled as she leaned down to kiss you. she kissed your face all over as she muttered about how beautiful you looked in her sweatshirt. lucy loved seeing you in her clothes around the house, and it was almost just as good to see you wear them in public for her.

"hey little man," lucy greeted her nephew with a big hug and kiss. "i have an important job for you, okay? i need you to walk your tia to her seat and keep an eye on her. between you and me, she's a little sad, so make sure that you give her lots of love, okay?"

"yes ma'am." you glanced at him curiously as he saluted lucy before turning towards you. he extended his hand towards you with a smile that was all bronze. "milady."

"go on with him, you're getting the star treatment tonight babe," lucy muttered as she gave you one last kiss. you sat in a special section right up next to the pitch, close enough to touch the players on the bench in front of you. a few of them got up and would come talk to you a bit, checking in on the pregnancy or just to see how you felt about watching lucy retire.

at the final whistle, you were escorted down onto the pitch for lucy to give her goodbye speech. you held the microphone for her as she held you in one arm and her nephew in the other. lucy's family came down to stand around her with her teammates. there were a few players that you knew had retired already, girls that lucy had introduced you to a few times on trips back up to england.

"i am so proud of you," you said as you cupped lucy's cheeks. "i can't wait to wear this name on my jersey one day."

"you'll do it proudly, and if i'm lucky, you'll be the first bronze to win the world cup," lucy said. the two of you had been deliberate in your family planning, hopeful that you'd be back in your normal form by the time that the next world cup rolled around. "and if not, we've got some pretty good other options too if i do say so myself."

"how do you know the baby is gonna be a footballer?" lucy's nephew asked as he placed his hand on your stomach. "i think it'll be a singer."

"nah mate, that baby's gonna be the best right back in the world," lucy said. "just like their mum."

…

"lucy!" you shouted from the nursery. lucy raced in from the bedroom, clad only in a towel and dripping wet. she looked panicked as she looked around to see what could possibly be wrong. "can you get me a different shirt please? vincent threw up on mine."

"you can't yell like that," lucy grumbled as she walked out of the bedroom. you followed her with the baby in your arms. you had changed your son immediately after his little incident, but had yet to get a chance to change yourself. "get him out of here, i have to change."

"he's a baby luce, and i need a shirt to wear. quickly please, i'm getting cold," you told her. lucy sighed and handed you the one she had planned on wearing. you were still trying to get back into wearing your pre-maternity clothes, but it was proving to be difficult to shed the baby weight. you were training like crazy, but you needed to get used to how your body had changed.

you happily put on lucy's shirt while she held vincent. you took him into the living room after to give lucy privacy. it took her a while, but she eventually made it out after having to adjust her outfit choice. it was a barcelona team dinner to celebrate them getting another sweep, but also a celebration of your son's first birthday. he had become like the team's unofficial mascot, often resulting in him being passed around the locker room like simba.

"cameras," lucy grumbled as she put on the baby backpack. you watched as she shielded vincent's face completely from the paps as she walked in. lucy had prefected that move, which you were impressed it. you followed in behind them, stopping a couple of times to pose for the cameras. you knew that someone on twitter or tiktok would have fun with it, most likely adding it to a compliation video of you wearing lucy's shirts or fucking with the press.

…

you wore lucy's clothes all the time. in fact, it was rare that you wore an outfit made up of things from your side of the closet. even if it was something as small as a ring, bracelet, or necklace, you had something of lucy's. occasionally, she'd wear one of your bracelets or a necklace, but she rarely took your actually clothing. today seemed to be an exception.

you had gone to the game on your own early to warm up. lucy's knee had been acting up, so you had asked ingrid to come and get you. that meant that you hadn't seen lucy get ready for the day. when you left, she was still in her pajamas as she played dinosaurs with vincent, who also wasn't even close to being ready.

lucy had her methods of getting him dressed for the day, which differed greatly from yours. she let him run around in between articles of clothing, meaning that it was an all morning affair for lucy to get him dressed. you couldn't imagine how rough things would be when you transferred up to manchester for him to start school in september. lucy would be on her own for a few weeks while you got all the club things figured out.

"are they in matching outfits?" keira asked as she looked into the stands. you followed her gaze to see your son and wife dressed in matching outfits. "where did she get that?"

"my dresser," you answered. you pinched the bridge of your nose as you approached them. vincent brightened up immediately, clapping and shouting for you. you hopped over the barrier and took him from lucy, who pressed a kiss to your cheek. "nice outfit."

"thank you, he asked if we could match," lucy said. you knew that wasn't completely the truth. vincent didn't immediately argue though, you assumed that it was a mutual thing. lucy liked to act tough sometimes, but you knew how soft the woman was. you were a pretty big soft spot for her, but your son was a bigger one.

"i think you look cute, and i should post a picture on instagram later," you told her. lucy pulled a face, but you knew that she'd let you get it anyway. you brought them down to the field, and vincent excitedly ran around letting everybody know that lucy was wearing the same outfit as him. "you look good in my clothes. that shirt is definitely too small, but i'm kind of into it."

"it's uncomfortable as hell. why do you like everything so tight?" lucy asked as she tugged at the shorts.

"how else am i meant to keep you around?" you asked her. lucy shook her head as she chuckled. both of you knew that you didn't need to show off to keep lucy around, she had married you after all. she was in it for the long haul, and had proven it time and time again when things got a bit tough.

[wolfiesmoon]

But... there's only one bed! (WB edition)

umemiya, sakura, suo, kaji x gn!reader

you're on vacation with him, but uh oh, looks like your bedroom only has ONE bed, you know what that means😘 (barely proofread btw)

look at me reusing fic concepts because i'm a lazy btch (and proud), also don't expect this to be the last time you see this fic concept (let's just say i'm cooking some things up) also i do have a longer less silly wind breaker fic in the works dont u worry guys💋

ALSO I COULD HAVE SWORN UMEMIYAS SURNAME WAS SPELT LIKE UNEMIYA WHAT???? i got hit by the mandela effect

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔 Umemiya Hajime

he's, like, a little too casual about it tbh

"Oh, looks like we'll be sharing a bed. Don't worry, I don't snore!" he smiles at you like an innocent child

you're not even sure if he views this the same way you do, is it kinda like sleeping with a sibling to him?

kinda bums you out since he's your crush and all...🤕

he keeps on wondering why you look kind of down for the rest of the day but you assure him it's nothing

(he makes sure to get you ice cream as a cheer-up gift anyways)

DONT WORRY THO, when it actually comes time to sleep he gets cold feet

in a "oh my god i'm suddenly rethinking this entire up until now platonic relationship" kind of way

"What's wrong? You don't snore, so what's the hold-up?" you decided to tease him using his own words, resting your cheek in your hand and smirking at him

(on the inside you're freaking out at your boldness)

you might as well have hit him with a brick because he "suddenly remembers he forgot something in the bathroom" and has to leave for a few minutes to cool down

you do end up sleeping on the same bed but neither of you can really fall asleep, you know 😁

the friendship never feels the same after that, but that's a good thing, right?

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔 Suo Hayato

"Oh, that's quite the surprise." he says with that signature smile of his, not looking bothered at all

and honestly, you wish you could say the same for yourself

you're sure that you probably look flustered in one way or another right now

(and suo being suo can definitely tell)

"Would you like to talk to the hotel staff and request another room?" he asks innocently as if he's not enjoying himself

you'd like to say you don't get flustered as often as Sakura but when Suo's involved all that kinda goes out the window because you like like him

"No, it's fine... But it's just because I don't want to trouble the staff, though." you're lying so hard rn btw

you just want to have your main character moment and sleep on the same bed as your crush and who could blame you???

"I see, you're as considerate as ever." he says calmly

WAAAY later, when the lights are already off and both of you are lying on the bed, facing away from eachother bc you're too embarrased to even breathe in the same direction as him rn😥

"You just wanted to sleep on the same bed as me, didn't you?" he asks all of a sudden and it makes you jump

you pretend to be asleep tho bc there's NO WAY you're actually answering that

"You're easy to read. It would be a bad thing in a fight, but I still like that about you."

you're glad the lights are off because you're probably making the silliest embarrased face rn

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔 Kaji Ren

he nearly splits his lollipop stick in half when he sees a singular bed

initially you'd be inclined to think he's really REALLY mad considering his red face and all, but you get the feeling that he isn't all that mad after all

he turns to you and curtly says he's getting another room but before he can leave you grab his arm and drag him inside the room

"This room is completely fine, what's wrong with it?" you smile at him innocently, knowing damn well there's nothing innocent behind your words

you're getting him to sleep next to you no matter what muehehehe😈

he wants to say something back to you and you can tell he does but he just puts his headphones on and clicks his tongue instead, his way of begrudgingly agreeing to stay

mission accomplished

later, when it's time for bed, he tries to make you sleep on the bed and sleep on the floor himself but again, you're not gonna let him

he gives up surprisingly quick and falls asleep facing away from you (can't reveal the fact he's blushing hehe)

OH AND ALSO, you'd better not bring up the fact he woke up with his arms around you or you're really gonna get it😡

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔 Sakura Haruka

faints and gets taken to hospital bc his head hit the floor a little too hard

ok no i'm sorry, let's be a little less silly for a just a moment🤕

he nearly faints but manages to not do that in front of you (he must stay strong!!!)

however, that doesn't mean he's faring well by any means

bro looks like steamed lobster 🦞

"Sakura?" you wave a hand in front of his face but he kinda seems unresponsive rn

he attempts to speak but all that comes out is a weird gurgling sound

and BAM now his nose is bleeding, and he didn't even need to get into a fight to get it that way

you really have that power on him💪

"S...Sakura? Seriously, are you okay?" you try to place a hand on his shoulder but he flinches away to the other side of the room

"I'LL SLEEP ON THE FLOOR." it comes out a lot less natural and a lot more choked out than he intended

you oblige his request for his own sanity and giggle to yourself about how cute he is when he's embarrased throughout the entire day

when bedtime arrives, you ask him if he's really fine with sleeping on the floor and he nods so hard you're worried his head's gonna fall off

so you begrudgingly let him ☹️

you should really be more than friends, though you're not sure if he can handle a confession considering he almost overheated just from the thought of sleeping on the same bed as you

[finalgirllx]

thought you hated me | mattheo riddle entry 1 of a little anthology series i am starting with mattheo. as a way to practice writing without committing to a long series, i'll be writing a few blurbs for him based on the 'enemies to lovers' trope. 1.1k words | nsfw | minors dni | f!reader this is also a thank you for 2000 followers, like holy cow. that's insane. thank you, thank you, thank you to everyone who has supported my nonsense.

"Hey, hey! Watch it! The recipe calls for a scoop of rose petals, not the entire bloody jar," you scold the curly-haired prick. He abided by your warning, much to your surprise, but not without tilting the jar above the cauldron a few extra times just to savor your irritation. You can't help but wonder what past mistakes led you to be doomed by fate to be partnered with Mattheo Riddle for potions class.

The whole school was aware of your mutual hatred, and neither of you made any effort to conceal it. It had been this way for so long that you couldn't even pinpoint why you hated him. Well, besides his utterly insufferable personality and a pisspoor attitude that not even his stellar good looks could redeem.

"He's an arrogant prick." "What a wretched tart." "A hotheaded muppet." "An absolute menace to civil society."

These were just a few recent jabs exchanged between you, either spoken directly or whispered through the grapevine. As long as everyone knows how much you despise each other, it suffices.

After your taunt over the rose petals, Mattheo's gaze bore into you beneath impossibly full eyelashes before he released a huff of pure disdain at your rigidity.

"You can piss off with that attitude. I say the one of us who didn't cause an explosion in class last week gets the bigger say over our potion-making," Mattheo countered, to which you promptly stood at attention and turned to face him, hands planted firmly on your hips.

"If that's the qualification, then I've had the upper hand practically every week this entire term! I cause one explosion, and you think you're all that," you argued back, to which Mattheo responded with a tired eye roll before he fixed his spiteful gaze fully on you.

"Well, I do have the right. Especially when you caused the explosion by staring at Cormac fucking McLaggen while biting your lip like an idiot," he grumbled, his voice lowered but the intensity still sending a shiver down your spine. You knew the implications of his words and that the facade could crumble under the man's temper in moments if you didn't tread forward lightly.

"Yeah, well, I don't see why you'd care, but I'll keep my eyes off of him," you begrudgingly relented with a shrug. You would have given him an earful with just about any other provocation, but what he could risk revealing over this wasn't worth continuing to bicker over.

"Good girl," Mattheo purrs the next time he leans closer to grab an ingredient, quiet enough so only you could hear, causing the heat rising between you to stay put. "Guess I'll need to find another reason to cave the bloke's face in," he adds, much to your dismay. You wanted to say something then, but the professor's perfectly timed interjection to order you both to focus on your work momentarily set the matter aside. -----------------

"Are you really going to make an arse of yourself and beat up Cormac if he and I so much as exchange a glance?" You questioned Mattheo incredulously as he hastily pulled you into a nearby empty broom closet with little resistance from yourself. The door had barely clicked shut before he tore off his robe and moved on to remove yours.

"You want to fucking try something? See how that works out for you, I'll make your ass red for weeks," Mattheo growled into your ear as his hands roamed your still-clothed torso, finding purchase on your breasts as he began to knead them, growing desperate for skin-to-skin contact. Your insolence had gotten him painfully turned on, urging him to handle your attitude with touches he knew would render you pliant. The whimpers his groping solicited from you had become the answer to his prayers.

This little arrangement had become second nature to you by now. You give Mattheo lip, which gets him riled up, so you both seek a release for your pent-up frustrations by way of you taking his dick. Each time, without fail, you two agree that this would be the last time. But having 'hated' each other for so long, you know just how to test the other's patience, him becoming as weak to your taunts as you are to his touch.

"Care so much about who I'm looking at, huh?" you mocked Mattheo as he attempted to undo the buttons on your top, his thought capacity overridden by lust. "I thought you hated me," you continued to bait him with a hint of amusement to mask the genuine curiosity for what he might say. A gasp escaped you when Mattheo removed one hand from your chest to take your chin in between two fingers, lifting your head to meet his eyes that were already ruining you in his mind. He pressed his body against yours, letting you feel his hardness through his trousers.

"You know I fucking hate you," Mattheo replied through gritted teeth, his ferocity laced with arousal. "Doesn't mean anyone gets a glimpse of what's mine."

Your lips pulled into a smirk contentedly in response, not the least bit intimidated by him. In fact, you were pretty proud to have evoked such a reaction out of him. Sure, maybe you felt afraid for Cormac, but after witnessing Mattheo Riddle get on his knees to beg for your pussy, it had become difficult to take his threats seriously. The man was down bad, and you relished in the way you could reduce him to a needy mess, though he probably felt similar when you turned into a babbling slut every time he made you cum on his cock. If anything, the rage made you just as greedy for him as he was for you.

You took the lead in removing the rest of your top, freeing Mattheo so he could bury his face in your neck, latching on and sucking the skin to leave noticeable, possessive marks. He proceeded to cover you with hot kisses that trailed further down your chest, with each unclasped button giving him more space to work with until your top was fully removed and strewn on the floor with abandon. He sunk to his knees before you, letting you ensnare one hand in his hair to brace yourself as he took the peak of one of your breasts in his mouth, which brought a moan from your lips. Forgetting the animosity and allowing pleasure to take over, you've all but given up on believing that this time would be the last.

[oxymorayuri]

❞𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞❝

[ Ace | Kid | Law | Doffy ] Summary » Get down on your knees, sweetie and hold on tight. He will make you feel how much he wants you and give you what you need, you dirty girl. pssst... you don't have to be in a relationship to have your first time ;) Warnings » Mature content - "BDSM" - rough sex - rape »»» If you have problems with he content marked in red, please don't read the part with Doflamingo <3 - NO PROOFREADING -

! ᴍᴀᴛᴜʀᴇ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ !

ᴍɪɴᴏʀꜱ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴀᴄᴛ

𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐒𝐓: Law, Kid, Doffy : xuchuan/序川_ | Ace: kameoka908

A/N: The results of the last poll showed that this was the topic you wanted most. I can understand that (you naughty ones, lol), but I think it's sad that "He confesses his love?!" didn't win... *puts it in drafts anyway*

Some songs I heard while writing 🔥 ; Ari Abdul - Girls On The Internet / Mickey Valen - Chills (feat. Joey Myron) / Kailee Morgue - Siren / Shaker - BODY

𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐠𝐚𝐫 𝐃. 𝐖𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐚𝐰

[ 2086 words ]

Without any understanding of what is happening around you, you kneel on the floor with your hands tied behind your back.

A blindfold prevents you from seeing what Law is planning to do to you, his steps are barely audible but you turn your head every time you hear a small sound.

The cold air wraps around your exposed body like silk, hardening your nipples and the only thing you can hear is the clacking sound of Law's shoes, while he circles around you like a predator.

Your breathing is a little heavy and nervous, waiting for something to happen, for Law to touch you, but Law just enjoys the sight.

He crouches down behind you, whispering in your ear with his deep yet calm voice, with no intention of touching you.

“Just for the record, you really want this, y/n-ya?”

Shivers run down your spine, making your heart beat faster, because his calm voice carries something commanding, something dangerous... something that makes you addicted.

“Y-Yes…” You whisper.

The corners of his mouth turn up into a dirty grin and he stands up again, leaving you kneeling on the cold floor.

"We'd better keep this between the two of us, you understand that, right?" His voice seems a little further away and shortly afterwards you hear something that sounds like rubber snapping against skin.

He slowly walks towards you again, his eyes wandering along your fine curves illuminated by the bright lamps, while he unbuttons his shirt to take it off.

“Yes…” you say quietly but this time with a firm undertone.

You can hardly believe how you both came to this, but you know that when you leave this room again, you have to pretend it never happened.

After all, this is not a passionate encounter between you… More like one between doctor and patient... although it looks a bit bizarre, but Law is just doing you a favor.

At least that's what you think, since there were never any kind of romantic signs between you… despite the fact that you have feelings for him, but you don't think he'll reciprocate.

“How are your knees? Do they hurt?” - “No, they don't.” You adjust yourself briefly, the long kneeling is indeed making itself felt, but somehow you like kneeling before him like a prisoner… without defense, just as nature created you…

and placed under the light of the infirmary.

It feels really good...

“Good girl.” His voice hums and excitement rises in you. You can literally hear the smile on his lips, while you neither know where he really is nor what he's up to.

Standing just a step in front of you, Law looks down at you as you stare cluelessly ahead, not really realizing that he's standing right in front of you.

"Look up at me, y/n-ya" You are taken aback by the near sound of his voice and just as he commands, you tilt your head back and look up.

“Good girl.” His praise makes you feel weak inside and the tingling in your stomach grows stronger towards your longing little cunt.

A feeling that you've missed so much and why you're both here...

It was certainly unpleasant to talk to Law about the fact that you have difficulty getting aroused, but you never dreamed it would come to this.

You had rather thought that there was a drug similar to viagra. A stimulant that would increase the humidity in your cave, but Law had a different idea. This one…

He crouches down and grabs your chin, watching you breathe heavily through your nose at the sudden touch and brushes his thumb over your bottom lip.

The feeling of the latex gloves is a little foreign, but you can feel the warmth of his hand. He presses a little against your teeth, causing you to open your mouth and welcome his thumb into your hot mouth.

As if under hypnosis, you suck on his finger and hear a satisfied hum from Law. He changes his finger and you greedily run your tongue around it.

“You're such a good girl…”

His finger leaves your mouth and strokes down your neck to your belly, leaving a wet trail of saliva behind.

His hand moves further down and you suck in your breath as he briefly runs two fingers through your puffy folds. The sudden touch pierces through your body and makes you aching for more.

Unfortunately for you, he prefers to take his time with you, which he obviously enjoys. Who could blame him?

Your somewhat nervous demeanor only makes the sight more arousing and every little reaction from you brings a little flicker to his eyes.

All you can feel is Law's hand on your back and then he suddenly picks you up. Since you can't see anything, everything happens a little too fast, making you feel like you've been thrown off balance.

He takes a few steps with you and sets you down on a cool, metallic surface. The faint smell of disinfectant hits your nose. You must be sitting on the operating table, you suspect.

Law spreads your legs wide, thinking he could take you here and now if he wanted to, since the table has the perfect height, but he wants to hear you beg for it.

His hands caress the inside of your thighs and pass close to your core, over to your pelvis. These indirect but intense touches make you insane, the burning in your center increases and you move your butt desperately back and forth.

Law's deep laugh fills the room as his hand moves over your hips to your breasts.

"You're a needy little girl, aren't you y/n-ya?"

You're a little embarrassed. The way you respond to his touch, you couldn't say that you have a problem with getting aroused.

No matter what you tried to get yourself in the mood, you didn't get wet. At first it helped to think about Law, but at some point even that wasn't enough.

“I need you Law…” Came quietly from your lips. Somewhat perplexed, Law stopped in his tracks. It took him a second to process what was coming from your sweet lips.

He runs his tongue over his lips while looking into your blushing face

“Oh yeah, you need me, y/n-ya?” Your name in his mouth sounds dirtier than usual and he gently strokes your sensitive nipples.

Overwhelmed by the wet feeling of his tongue on your breast, you hum softly and nod your head.

A little bite in your nipple makes you twitch.

"Say it, y/n-ya." he demands of you, his breath on your skin and two fingers on your nipple pinching it.

“Ahh hah, I need you Law!” You whimper with excitement rather than pain.

"Yeah, I knew you needed me." His voice becomes a little darker and confident.

You try to lean back a little and support yourself with your hands, but the ropes make it a little difficult. Despite the pain, you don't let it stop you from enjoying Law's gentle kisses between your breasts and you let your head fall back.

Your soft moans fill the room as Law teases your nipples with his tongue while one hand strokes your thigh up and down, always a little closer to your pussy.

Instinctively your hips move back and forth in response to his stimulating touch, leaving your body aching for more.

Law placed his thumb between your folds and began to circle over your clit. Sliding slowly down a little to glide over your hole with light pressure. By this point your pussy is so wet, that he literally slips through your puffy folds, making your cunt produce lewd noises.

"Tell me, were you this wet, when you thought about me in your bed?" Your body tenses, not daring to speak as his deep voice fills your ear. Law has to smirk a little at how cravingly you squish your pussy into his gloved hand.

"The way you moaned my name made me almost go crazy, you know y/n-ya? It cost me a lot not to barge into your room…"

You bite your lower lip… Did he eavesdrop on you?

"Were you no longer satisfied at some point and that's why you came to me…" The pace of his fingers between your lips increased, raising the heat in your chest.

“…because you need me?” With your brain running at full capacity to process all these feelings, the only thing that comes out of your lips is an unrestrained moan.

He praises you repeatedly, calling you his 'good girl' while leaving a trail of kisses all the way down your belly.

He takes in the sight of your lovely swollen puss, feeling the tension in his pants.

“Such a beautiful pussy…” he whispers as he drops his pants. His breath brushes over your cunt and makes it twitch slightly. He grabs you by the lower legs and pulls you towards him while you struggle to keep your balance.

Slowly, he runs his warm tongue between your lovely lips and gently strokes your clitoris. He enjoys you to the full while his slow movements drive you over the edge.

You would like to grab his head and push him closer to feel some relief, but the ropes prevent you from doing so.

“Law I want you!” You moan, longing for relief.

His slow tongue strokes are warm and the even pressure is tickling your nerves. He licks your sweet spot one last time with his tongue before he fulfills your wish.

He eagerly places his magnificent piece at your entrance and smears himself with a mixture of his spit and your juice as he strokes his tip through your folds.

"Do you want me to thrust my dick inside you?" he asks you in a raspy voice. You nod your head enthusiastically, but Law leaves you waiting, to enjoy the sight of his cock sliding effortlessly through your soft lobes.

All of a sudden he violently pushes into you and his name escapes your lips. He pushes his whole length into your pussy hole, making it difficult for you to hold yourself with your tied hands.

Law notices your misery and reaches for the ropes to untie them as he penetrates your tight hole over and over again.

With your mouth slightly open, you try to get your rapid breathing under control, but the sensation caused by Law's movements is overwhelming.

His fast and deep thrusts bring you closer towards your climax and you can barely keep up with the moans.

"Uhh, Law… mhh I think I'm gonna cum!"

But before you can reach your orgasm, Law pulls out and leaves you feeling empty.

You whimper a few incomprehensible words and beg him to fill you up again. Law, who just wanted to delay his own orgasm, dives into you again but this time starts to pleasure you with slow and steady thrusts.

You start massaging your breasts with your hands, which drives Law insane. You squeeze and pinch both your nipples, unable to see how Law watches you with satisfaction in his eyes.

Suddenly, Law grabs your blindfold and rips it off your face. You have to blink a few times to get used to the bright light but quickly your attention is focused on the way you are being fucked by Law.

With his lips slightly parted, he struggles to breathe but his eyes are fixed on you as you fondle your bare breasts.

Watching him fuck the soul out of your body gives you a little reminder of what's happening in reality. With the blindfold you had a sort of distance from what was going on between you, as if you were being fucked by a stranger.

It was exciting, but watching Law, as he enjoys thrusting his hips into you, is even more exciting.

You barely managed to hold on to Law's shoulders as he lifted you up while his member was still inside you.

Automatically you wrap your legs around his hips and with his hands on your butt he moves you up and down, on his dick in a gentle motion.

Moaning, you nestle against his neck and enjoy the feeling of his hot skin on your naked chest.

𝐏𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐠𝐚𝐬 𝐃. 𝐀𝐜𝐞

[ 576 words ]

A/N: Ace is really short, sorry. I'll make up for it soon with a spicy OneShot :D

Both of you, completely out of breath, try to keep the noise to a minimum. If someone catches you, bad rumors will spread around the ship, but you can't resist Ace any longer.

In a storage room, you cling to Ace who lavishes you with a thousand kisses on your neck. Usually no one ever comes in here because there's nothing but useless junk, but the thrill of being caught is pretty exciting.

Again and again you remind each other to be quiet as your lips fall over each other.

The way he grabs your breasts and strokes your hips tells you that he's greedy for more. Greedy for you.

And you are just as greedy. Your hands run curiously over his chest, feeling every muscle. His body is burning hot, so hot that you need to get out of your clothes quickly and as you reach for the hem of your top, Ace is happy to help you free yourself from your clothes.

Stripped of your clothes, you explore each other's bodies in the dark storage room without parting your lips for once.

All you can feel is how Ace traces soft kisses down your neck all the way down to your wet pussy. You lift one leg and try to support yourself against the wall while Ace runs his warm tongue through your folds.

“Mhmh, y/n, you taste so good.”

He grabs your buttocks while he devours your pussy juices and moans in pleasure along with you. You grab his black hair and move your hips to his licking movements.

His warm tongue is truly talented and you enjoy how evenly and slowly he strokes through your folds. Over and over again he presses his tongue against your hole only to then skillfully stroke your sweet little clit.

“Mhmm Ace, please put it in.” you whimper a little. You want to feel him inside you.

He turns you to face the wall and lifts one of your legs. You immediately stick your butt out towards him and feel his massive erection on your ass, just waiting to explore your soft hole.

He guides his big friend to your entrance and you both moan in pleasure as he slides it inside you. For a brief moment, he lingers in the position where he has his entire member inside you. Your walls wrap around him so comfortably tight.

Surely but slowly he starts to penetrate you.

If you had known how big he was, you would have let him touch you much earlier, but well, better later than never…

With Ace's hands firmly on your hips, he guides you towards him again and again with force. Both your breaths are ragged and you keep forgetting that you could be just a moment away from being caught.

His hand finds its way along your skin to your breast and massages it gently. He pulls you a little closer so that you arch your back and he peppers your neck with lots of hot kisses. You feel your hair standing straight

You feel your hair stand straight and you happily surrender to his every touch, feeling tempted to disappear into this little secret chamber more often. With Ace, of course.

Just as you are both getting closer to climaxing, without any control over your voices, you hear footsteps from outside that you don't register at all.

“Hello, is anyone in there?”

𝐃𝐨𝐧𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐱𝐨𝐭𝐞 𝐃𝐨𝐟𝐥𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐨

[ 2344 words ]

All kinds of gorgeous women are lined up in a row, including you. In the beginning your group was much larger, but a few women have already been sorted out by Diamante, one of the king's three highest officers. Women who might not be to the king's taste.

Dressed in skimpy clothes, you stand in a large hall in the castle and wait for Doflamingo to appear. The king has once again tortured his last toy to death and demands to see all the unmarried women in the kingdom...

Frightened, you stand between women who confidently assume that they could win the king's heart, but you know that he has no heart.

The massive door opens and the man in question walks in. He walked past all the women without even glancing at them, while a few ladies lost their composure due to excitement.

You pray that he doesn't choose you… That maybe he won't choose anyone, because no one catches his interest. But unfortunately for you, he stops right in front of you and turns to face you.

“You look scared…” There's something crazy about the smile on his face and you don't dare move a muscle.

He grabs your chin and looks at your face. Your widened eyes stare at him in fear, you try to avoid his gaze but he forces you to look into your horrified reflection in his glasses.

“I'll take that.” he announces and disappears from the hall again. Tears well up in your eyes as you realize that he doesn't even see you as a human being. You're just an object he pleasures himself with until you break.

Servants come quickly and lead you through the long corridors without talking to you. Everything seems so foreign to you and you don't dare say a word…

You don't really want to know what's happening to you now. Even though you know exactly what is going to happen, you want to block it out, maybe there will be a chance to escape, but that chance didn't arise…

The maids bathed you, perfumed you and applied expensive lotions to make your skin soft and smooth. After they put you in a silky nightgown, which to your surprise was quite pretty rather than slutty, they led you to the attached bedchamber.

They made you sit on the huge bed, on which you felt a little lost because it was so big, and guarded you. Their eyes are cold and reserved on you, but earlier, when they bathed you and you cried, the pity in their eyes was obvious.

You feel like a doll that has been glammed up to please the king and now you have to wait for him to come and play with you…

You think of your family and friends that you will probably never see again and fight back your tears. You're a bit scared, especially because it's your first time...

The double doors of the room open and you don't even have to look up to know who is entering. His wicked chuckle is easy to recognize and you clench your fists to hide your shaking hands.

"Fufufu - How nicely they've arranged you for me."

His frame casts a shadow over you that makes you look up at him slowly. Your frightened demeanor amuses him, causing him to smile maliciously and he places his knee on the bed, coming close to you.

"Get out." He spoke without taking his eyes off you and the maids quickly hurried out of the room.

There you are now. Alone with Doflamingo.

You clutch the pink silk sheets and grit your teeth. With all your might you try not to look too afraid, but Doflamingo can literally taste that you are tense.

“Why are you so scared? fufufu.” There's something poisonous about his voice, something that makes you shudder. The closer he gets to you, the more you scoot backwards to keep your distance.

What you should know is that Doflamingo enjoys this game of cat and mouse. You are his prey and he will definitely snatch you. The way you wiggle backwards into the many cushions is simply entertaining.

Your heart skips a beat as you realize that you can't get any further back, because the head of the bed is behind you.

You don't even have the nerve to think about how you can convince Doflamingo not to sleep with you while he's reaching for you. But do you really think you can convince him with your words? Probably not.

He will make use of your body and nothing can stop him, you are sure of that. That's why you just sit in front of him, like a scared little bunny, making itself smaller and smaller.

His fingers go through your hair and holds it up to his nose. You stare stiffly at him as he savors your scent.

“Ahhh…” He moans satisfied and brushes your hair against his cheek "Your scent is so bewitching, I fucking love it." You swallow hard. You want to scream but you're afraid to make even the slightest noise.

“But you know what I love even more? The fear in your eyes.”

He grabs you roughly by the chin and forces you to look up at him. You breathe anxiously through your nose.

He is crazy.

You manage to gain control of your body and push him away from you. Surprisingly, he allows you to do so.

“Are you scared? Fufufu…” He leans back a little and looks down at your pathetic figure as he removes his shirt. You avoid his gaze and turn your face downwards.

You feel uncomfortable that he's making fun of you like this. His long index finger appears in your field of vision and Doflamingo lifts your chin.

"Don't be afraid, I can start by myself if you like." His voice is calm and a little teasing but the words he says sound lewd, something you're not used to.

You shyly dare to take a look at his upper body. His abs are nicely tanned and well trained. Surely, if he wasn't such a sick man, he would be every woman's dream.

You watch him as he unzips his pink pants allowing his long member to finally escape the prison of his tight pants. You swallow a little. This size is definitely not for beginners…

“Fufufu… Are you that hungry to swallow like this; or are you just shocked?"

Caught off guard, you look up at him. You didn't realize that Doflamingo was someone observing you so closely. Nervously, you bite your lip.

You had rather expected him to pounce on you and tear your clothes off, but he just sits in front of you and undresses himself with no hurry, while you ogle at his body with uncertainty.

Suddenly he rushes towards you and leans over you, stroking his member with one hand. Startled, you grab the blanket with both hands and press yourself into the mattress, hoping it will swallow you whole.

You try to avoid any kind of physical contact and close your legs. Unfortunately, Doflamingo forces his leg between them before you can do so.

“Don't be shy, dear.” He runs his tongue over his lips as if he wants to devour you and you turn your head to the side. You look around the room, the only option is to make a run for your life, as fast as you can, but will you be fast enough?

Doflamingo straightens up and strokes your thigh lovingly, gushing over the sight of you. You look so pathetic the way you desperately try to figure your escape.

It's written all over your face that you're scared. Probably not scared enough to make smart decisions, because you jump up, push Doflamingo away and run for the door.

You don't have the nerve to even notice that Doflamingo doesn't move a bit. He just laughs his nasty laugh. Just before you can reach for the doorknob, several thin strings wrap around you and hold you in place.

You try to defend yourself and stretch towards the door, but you quickly realize that the strands are cutting into your skin and blood starts to flow in some places.

Before you know it, Doflamingo is standing behind you and grabs you roughly by the neck, throwing you to the ground. He loosens your strings and applies pressure to your back with his foot.

It hurts. He presses his foot into your spine and when you try to support yourself from the ground, he crushes your head back down. Your tears gather. Why doesn't he just find someone who's into stuff like this?

“If you behave yourself, we'll both have a lot of fun…” His voice is no longer teasing, more threatening, as if you're going to die if you don't start acting good.

He grabs your arm and pulls you up. With one hand he makes a strange gesture and you immediately feel the strings tighten around your neck.

"If you're acting bad, I'll kill you." It gets tighter around your neck and you try to move as little as possible while you can't breathe.

You find yourself on the bed again and Doflamingo, who has completely separated from his pants right in front of the bed, looks down at you with a dark expression. His nasty smile has disappeared.

“It would be a shame if I had to kill you, so I hope you behave yourself.” His words leave you defenseless. If you deny him your body now, you will die. You swallow and look fearfully at where you suspect his eyes are.

“I… I'll b-behave.” Your voice is barely a whisper and shaky.

“Very good.” The corners of his mouth turn upwards and his strings loosen at your throat.

He kneels on the bed and pulls you closer using your thighs. His member lands on top of you and reaches your belly button. Aside from its length, you are concerned about its width. That's going to split you in two…

His big hand runs down your thigh, moving over to your stomach.

"The fabric looks gorgeous on your body." Unexpectedly gentle, he goes over your chest. The cool fabric of your nightgown stimulates your nipple and it stiffens.

However, it disgusts you that such tender touches belong to a loathsome man like him.

He grabs you by the neckline of your nightgown and literally rips the whole thing off your body. You flinch and try to cross your arms in front of your chest.

This sudden exposure makes your face flush crimson red. You feel his strings on your wrists and they pull your arms over your head.

“That's a nice sight.” You can't look at his messed up smile and close your eyes. You feel his cock throbbing against your body as he takes great pleasure in the way you try desperately to control your breathing without making a sound.

“Look at me.” His voice is cold and you widen your eyes, not daring to blink.

He strokes over your panties and applies a little pressure to your clit. Using slow circular movements, he caresses your little cunt, making it twitch. He runs his fingers over your skin with great tenderness and disappears under your underwear and his cold fingers make you twitch.

You curse yourself for feeling the pleasure of his touch. You're no stranger to such touches, you've done it to yourself before, but when someone else does it, it's a whole different story.

You bite your lip; surprisingly, he touches you just the way you like it. As if he knows your body all too well.

You tense your body. You don't want to be aroused by him, but unfortunately you are forced to realize that your body is moistening your folds all by itself.

"There is no point in resisting, my dear."

He pushes your underwear aside and places his member at your entrance. Your pleading looks only excite him even more and he stuffs his entire tip into your soft pussy. “N-no…! please don't.” you beg but he ignores you and continues to slowly drive his cock into you. The wetness of your cunt is barely enough for his shaft and you look down at yourself in pain, only to realize that he hasn't even come close to disappearing inside you.

Suddenly he stops.

“Fufufufufu… What do we have here? A virgin?” He licks his lips and rips his glasses off his face after discovering your blood on his member. He looks down at his cock and you are speechless about how his eyes can look even crazier than his smile does.

Your heart skips a beat as he looks directly into your pupils. His eyes are terrifying and more aggressive than you could have imagined.

“This seems to be my lucky day!” he gets louder. His laughter is maddening and without warning he thrusts his whole cock into your little hole. The pain tears you apart and you feel your warm blood running down your butt.

His thrusts are so fast that your whole body tenses up. Hoping that by resisting, you'll be able to stay focused and not go crazy from the adrenaline and pain.

Both the pain and the excitement of his hard thrusts drive you into madness. You let your head fall back and pray that it will end soon or you will find yourself passing out from the pain.

You feel stretched out and his movements are way too fast.

You can't even desperately hold on to the bed because your hands are still tied together over your head and so you let yourself be fucked into mad despair...

𝐄𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐬 𝐊𝐢𝐝

[ 1675 words ]

It felt like it was the hundredth drunk guy grabbing your ass today. With a sudden yank, you hit the guy, while balancing a tablet with your other hand. The man was literally smashed into the ground and the floorboards broke... that's the kind of strength you have.

Drunk men are disgusting, bleurgh...

"Get your hands off me you disgusting bastard!" You wave your hand a little and blow it as you feel the heat from the impact, suppressing a smile as you look at the mark on the guy's face.

Your own hand is starting to hurt, after all the punches you've thrown at men today. You give the drunkard a disgusted face and waddle back to the bar.

You watch his comrades angrily, as they try to pick up the guy who's been knocked out and polish a few glasses.

However, that's your job and your life isn't a dream come true. You're lucky that Madame Lingerie took you in and raised you… even though it was in a brothel.

From one of the other tables, loud laughter exploded, drawing your attention to the noisy people.

A large, broadly built man with a body covered in scars and fiery red hair sat in the middle of the seating area. On both sides of him are one of the most beautiful prostitutes from the house, laughing with him about the show you put on in front of everyone.

Eustass Kid. A name that is very well known in this world.

You try to avoid the looks he gives you and clean up behind the bar. You certainly don't need approval from a pirate… and yet you catch yourself glancing over at them, every now and then.

"Hey woman, bring me two beers and sit with me!" He shouts over to you. You straighten your back and look over at him with furrowed brows. Casually you put one hand on your hip while giving him a challenging grin.

“My humble self is not for entertainment Eustass.” Your smile is sassy and Kid bursts out laughing.

“Entertainment? How about some company? You surely need a little break." He shows his teeth while flashing you a big smile.

Well, you have to admit that his devious manner is quite captivating. Something about the way he smiles crookedly at you is quite attractive. Finally someone who can be a pleasant challenge.

Without breaking eye contact, you tap him a new beer, but not a second one. You're sure the second one is for you. It's charming that he buys you a drink, but you prefer something else. You quickly mix yourself your favorite drink and go over to his table.

"Well, I don't see a spot available here." You stand casually with your drinks in your hand. He invites you to join him, but there's not even room for you? His drunken crew members look at you mischievously, too mischievously for your taste. Kid smirks and pats his thigh.

"You're looking for a seat? I've got one right here for you." He laughs at you challengingly. A little stunned, you blink at him but start to run your tongue over your teeth in a combative manner.

“Oh? Two beautiful women by your side aren't enough for you, so you need a third?” You put the drinks down on the table and cross your arms in front of your chest. You're not one of the girls he can pick… Apart from that, you wouldn't like to share.

“Killer, will you take these two for me? I need some space here…” He pushes the ladies away, but they have no problem leaving with Killer.

"Be careful y/n, Kid is a rough man..." one of the girls winks at you as they walk past and you roll your eyes.

If only you knew what she meant by that…

You'd love to blame it on the alcohol that you ended up on his ship but the truth is that the chemistry between you was just too good. You could literally feel the sexual attraction between you.

Making out like crazy, the two of you almost fall into his cabin and with eager hands you run over his chest. You rarely part your hot lips to catch your breath.

His hands reach around you and he lifts you up to carry you over to a table and place you on it without letting go of your lips once. You impatiently try to free yourself from your jacket and draw a deep laugh from Kid.

“Someone wants to get down to business quickly.” - “Shut up and get out of your pants!” You hiss at him and give him a little bite on the lip.

Impatiently, you grab his pants and fumble with his belt but Kid grabs your hand and pulls you away. With just a few quick moves, he turns you around and pushes you onto the table so that your butt is facing him.

He takes his time to enjoy the sight how your leather pants frame your round ass. He loves leather. He kneads and strokes your curves, occasionally giving you a small but tender slap on the ass. A dirty laugh escapes your lips as you look at him over your shoulder.

"So, do you like what you see? Wait till you see my ass without pants.” His eyes move from your ass to your face and a naughty smile adorns his face.

"That's not going fast enough for me." Is all he says before he rips your pants off.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” You try to turn around but Kid holds you down. A little tearfully you mourn your leather pants. They had served you well and now you're going to end up like this? Poor pants.

But your mourning comes to an quick end. Kid slaps your booty vigorously with his hand, causing a resounding noise to echo through the silent room. You feel his handprint precisely and even though it was a bit tingly at first, you feel a growing warmth in your core.

Again and again he reaches for your butt and decorates your skin with red marks of his hand. Each stroke sends you into a frenzy, an overwhelming pain that is both pleasant and humiliating.

In addition, you like to let him hear how much you enjoy his rough behavior and moan without holding back.

"Well you dirty little bitch, you like that?"

You grind your teeth. You're obviously into it. Annoyed and full of lust, you wiggle your ass at him.

"Come on you fucking pirate and just fuck me!" You growl at him. You want sex and you want it now.

To your delight, you hear a clinking sound, a belt buckle opening and shortly afterwards the muffled sound of his pants falling to the floor.

But before he just fucks you, you want to have some fun with him first. You turn around skillfully and get straight down on your knees.

You bite your lip and grin broadly when you see his huge cock. "Delicious." you say in a seductive voice as you look him in the eye. Kid's cock grows instantly as you look at him with your naughty smile.

You caress his cock with your tongue, while moaning softly. His flesh feels so good and you notice how wet you get between your legs. Kid can't stand the sight of you and the feeling of your soft mouth for long and forces you back onto the desk.

With a look of excitement, you spread your legs and wrap your arms around his neck as he strokes his member over your squishy folds. Impatiently, you rub against him and relieve yourself with the pressure his stiff member causes on your clit.

His big hands literally dig into your thighs as he thrusts into you. With low and deep thrusts, he draws sounds of satisfaction from your lips and you let your head fall back.

You wrap your legs around his hips, wanting him even closer to you and pushing him deeper into you. His thick dick fills you up perfectly and the pressure he leaves inside you as he holds this position makes the hair on your arms stand up straight.

“You're pretty greedy, I like that.” He grunts between the thrusts he slams into you.

His hands grab your tits and he pulls and twirls your nipple. You've never been touched so roughly and hell, you never want to miss it again. He gives your breast a little slap and moans dirty words into your face.

“You little slut should be mine.” He grabs you by the throat, with his hand going around your neck with no problem. He doesn't squeeze too hard that you lose your breath, just enough to drive you fucking nuts.

Excited by his overwhelming dominance, you arch your back.

"Mmhm, what's in it for me?" You grab his arm, whose hand is still on your neck, and hold it in place. You like the submissive role.

“You'll get a mouthful of my cock, every night if you like.”

“Mhmm, that's not entirely convincing.” Even though you've discovered your submissive side, you don't want to miss out on the challenge.

You love to provoke him. Suddenly he lifts you up and bends you over the table.

“You like getting your butt slapped, don't you?” His fingers gently caress the curve of your ass.

"Hey, who said you could stop fucking me?" Your cheeky manner earns you a slap on the butt.

"Shut the fuck up." he roars threateningly as he massages the red spot on your ass.

“I'll make you mine, you'll have no say in the matter...” He spreads your legs and gives you a little slap on your puffy pussy.

“I have no objections.” You moan in satisfaction.

Weeehw. It's finally done I hope you enjoyed it. I definitely enjoyed it :3

Kiss kiss your yuri ♡

[im-ovulating]

(A/n: I have no excuse or reason for this, but here ya go! lmao)

Word Count: 991

Summary: Even in death, Tate can't seem to shake his mother's insults. He DOES know how to make your legs shake, though.

Warnings: Praise Kink, Mommy Issues, Use of 'good boy" and 'pretty boy', Both Tate and Reader are a switch, Tate's a pretty crier

Age Rating: 18+ Minors DNI

(yes he gets 2 gifs, what about it?)

Tate Langdon x Fem! Reader: Shake

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

"-fuck!"

You spread your legs a bit more to take him deeper, both of you gasping out at the new sensation.

"I'm good, right? I'm good for you?" Tate is in shambles beneath you. A run-in with the ever-deprecating Constance left him in desperate need of some positive female praise and you couldn't just say 'no' to the tear-stained, brown eyes that begged for your comfort.

"Ah~" A smile breaks across your face as you lean down to pepper kisses along Tate's jaw. "You wanna be good for me? Wanna be my good boy, Tate, hmm?"

His cock twitches in you as you make it to his lips, lightly biting down on his bottom lip before lifting up just enough to make eye contact.

His hips jerk up to meet yours at a particularly hard thrust of your hips. "God- Yes! Wanna be so good for you! Wan' you t' use me. Use me any way you want; I'm yours! Mmh, hah."

You slide your hands up his chest to tug at his shaggy, blonde hair. "Just lay there and look pretty for me, then, hm? Can you do that for me, my sweet, pretty boy?"

He takes a second to answer, focused on how ethereal you look straddling him; using his body as you please, knowing how to bring both of you over the edge.

That's one of his favorite things about you: When he needs you to take the lead, he knows that you'll only take what you both need. That you'll command without controlling. That you understand his vulnerability and will only push him as far as he needs you to.

A groan is punched out of Tate as you clench around him, effectively snapping him out of it. "I can- ohh..."

Satisfied with his answer, you press a searing kiss to his waiting mouth. It's all tongue and teeth but neither of you care, too wrapped up in each other to mind. You slide your hands from his hair to caress his cheek.

"Such a good boy~" You singsong as you sit back, moving your arms behind you to support your weight on his thighs as you slam your hips against his with more vigor. His moans sending shock waves down your spine, settling in your already soaked core.

His hands move to grip your hips hard enough to bruise, but all it does is spur you on.

"Fuck, fuck- Please~" He shifts underneath you, causing his pelvis to rub deliciously against your clit.

"Oh god~ Tate!" Your head drops forward at the spike of pleasure.

You grab one of his hands to bring to your clit, desperate for the stimulation again.

Determined to be the best he can be for you, his finger works in tandem with every gyrate of your hips to tighten the coil forming in your core.

Ever the expert of your body, Tate helps you spiral towards your climax faster than you anticipated. You're gasping for breath as your walls start to clamp down on his cock impossibly tighter.

Tate lets out a groan at the feeling, his head pushes back against the pillow, thumb still rubbing firm circles on your clit. His eyes glisten with unshed tears as he tries not to cum.

"Don't stop baby... oh fuck, please," His plea is hoarse and gravelly as he starts to properly slam him hips up to meet yours.

"Wasn't- AH- planning on it." You let out a breathy moan as you fight the forming burn in your thighs, trying to focus on the heat curling inside you like an inferno instead.

"Oh- Fu- I'm so close baby. Please tell me you're close too." You can hear the strain in his voice. "Wanna cum with you~"

You're tensed like a rubber band being stretched to its limits as you try to keep pace. Your legs are shaking with the exertion, and you can barely lift yourself up.

"Tate- Tate, oh god, Tate!" His name is spilling from your lips like a Hail Mary in a mixture of content and desperation.

"What do you need, beautiful?" Tate pants. "Just tell me- tell me what you need from me and it's yours."

It's now that your legs decide to give out with one last quiver, dropping you against his torso. Without missing a beat, Tate flips you on your back, resting on his forearms as he takes over.

The sound of your heavy breathing fills the room along with the obscene squelching of Tate's cock as it pistons in and out of you and it's all you can do to not scream his name for the whole neighborhood to hear.

Almost instantly, Tate's boxing you in - arms flexing beside your head as he pounds into you. Your hands pull at his hair, dragging him closer to press his searing lips to yours once more.

"Good boy," you mumble into the kiss, broken moans leave the both of you just to get swallowed by the others mouth. "So good for me~"

Tate moves to bury his face into your neck, small cries mixed in with his groans and whimpers. "I'm good? Your good boy? Only yours?"

His questions start to get more frantic as his hips start to jackrabbit; his fingers digging even further into your skin as you both near your climax.

"Pleasepleaseplease-" he whines, begging you to cum with him.

And who are you to deny him such a simple request? Especially when he asks oh so politely.

"Cum, Tate -" you gasp. "Be a good, sweet boy and cum for me?"

And he does; a wet sob rips its way from his throat as he buries himself inside you, coating your insides with the pretty pearl of his spend. The heat flooding you is just enough to tip you over the edge as well - your nails scratch down his back as your head tilts against the pillow and your thighs tighten around his waist.

[vhaos-chaotic-writing]

Ahhhhh! First of...BIG FAN OF YOUR SOTRYS AND HEADCANONS! And i want to request an Yandere TFA Starscream AND ALL of his clones(plus Slipstream, if you like) with an cybertronian s/o that is SUPERA shy, easily flustered and hardly ever raises thare voice that comes out as VERY adorable whispers and thare...

❤️‍🔥DROP❤️‍🔥

💞DEAD💞

😍GORGEOUS😍

I would VERY much love it if you add small scenarios.

🌌💗💜Love your storys!💜💗🌌

Oh my Primus THANK YOU!!! You're so sweet (´▽`ʃ♡ƪ) It makes me smile to know my works are being liked, it is my little escape from reality and adult life - I'll do my best since I haven't seen Transformers Animated too.

(TFA) Yandere!Starscream & Clones w/ Shy Cybertronian!Reader (HCs & Scenario)

WARNING: Yandere behaviour, too many yanderes in the same place, typical violence from the series and a little bit more. Reader gets a little bit hurt by Sunstorm, but nothing too bad. Reader is gender neutral and in the Decepticon faction.

Perfection - that's the word Starscream, Skywarp, Sunstorm, Thundercracker, Ramjet, Slipstream, Dirge and Thrust use to describe you.

What is a shy, soft speaking, easy to fluster cybertronian in the Decepticon's faction and still walking around, unchanged?

Starscream has never been one to believe in beings like Primus - but thanks to Primus for having given him someone just as perfect as you.

And if Starscream loved you, his clones did the same - after all, they were a part of Starscream. It would be impossible to not love you as deadly as Starscream already did!

You are never alone - never. At least one of them is by your side.

Skywarp is paranoid. Sunstorm is sadistic. Thundercracker is obsessive. Ramjet is delusional. Slipstream is stalkerish. Dirge is possessive. Thrust is manipulative.

And Starscream? Well - he has a little bit of all of those traits. I'll say he remains as a possessive yandere, but with how of a mess he is, tends to the hysteric type too.

All of them love to say they own you and such, they like to think they are in charge of you - but they are dead aft wrong.

You have 8 yanderes wrapped by your pinkie finger - whatever you wish they will try to give it to you, they will guard you and, if you ever showed a desire to offline someone, they would shed all the energon and helms you want.

Of course - they take advantage of your shy behaviour. They always keep you by their side, prohibiting you of interacting with other bots if they are not around. Hell, they even intimidate you partially to neither run or fight them back.

But, oh - just how precious you are? How kind and soft you are, too scared to raise your voice, easy to embarrass and get you too overwhelmed by their love you can't think on doing anything but recieve whatever form of sickening saccharine love they decide to give you.

They have definitely threaten another bot to offline them just because they saw you for 1 klik. A few bots would not really take Starscream or any of his clones seriously... but the look all of them have in their optics - it is pure madness. Hysteric insanity barely tamed, branded as their love for you.

Only you.

If they could, they would chant how perfect you are that not even Primus could be compared to you. They want to hold you, bond their sparks with yours, end everyone just so there would be only you and them.

You've been desperately trying to get a least one klik of privacy for yourself - your anxiety is skyrocketing. You've always been aware of Starscream's obsession with you. He would always follow you, claim to be the perfect candidate to be your conjux endura and promise he was going to be yours.

And you've seen it - how he stalks and follows you, how he has threatened others to keep themselves away from you, how he aims to kill any bot if you are in the middle of the battle against the autobots and get hurt or targeted. And Starscream has been doing a good job at actually being taken as a threat if you were in the middle of the ecuation (hell, even Megatron has been quite careful whenever interacting with you.)

But with the clones now around... your hell grew 7 times worse.

Skywarp would cry his optics off, begging you about not leaving him, constantly being tortured by himself with the many imaginary scenarios he makes of you being taken or leaving them. To then cry as he thanks you for proving him you love him when you just comforted him, not having the spark to leave him like that when is clinging to you as if you were going to disappear.

Sunstorm is always there to hurt you, one way or another - he proclaims that is in the name of love and making sure others know you are taken after he left a few bitemarks or bruises on your neck or armplates, seeming too pleased when you whimper or sob. You're starting to believe he also does it to tell you what the consequences could be if you tried to leave him.

Thundercracker constantly has this episodes where he has you cornered or held, rambling and rambling about too many things but they always revolve about that insane and obsessive love for yours, how he promises to destroy anyone who gets in your way and so, so much more. It always scares you as he always spills his love for you, never tearing his optics away from you.

Ramjet believes with all his spark that you and him (plus Starscream and the other clones) are already the Conjux Endura of the other, and he believes you and him have been past lovers from another lives, your sparks bonded through all eternity and, no matter if he dies or you die, you will always come back to him and fall in love with him just as he does it with you every single klik of his life.

Slipstream is there, she is always there. Always listening. Always watching you. Stalking you. You know she is there even if you can't see her. And before you know it, she has you in her arms, hugging you and whispering to you too many promises about never leaving you. She knows everything about you, knows where you are or where you are going - you can't escape her.

Dirge is not like Slipstream. While she hides in the shadows to follow you, he is physically there with you. He acts like a barrier between you and the world, isolating you. Constantly has his servo holding yours, he needs to touch you one way or another, and is not afraid to throw a few faceplate breaking punches at anyone who tries to approach you.

Thrust guilt-trips you. You know he is doing it whenever he does it, and still your spark aches and bends, giving into whatever he wants. Why do you want to go outside when there are too many autobots and other decepticons wanting to hurt you? Ramjet and the others are doing everything to keep you safe and sound! They love you so much, sweetspark - how can you be so sparkless? Worst part, when you give in, he always coos and praises you for being such a good soon-to-be-conjux.

"Ah, there you are, my dear Conjux." And the last one to be enlisted - Starscream himself. A servo is quick to grab yours, pulling you by force to stop walking and follow him, instead. "What did I told you about leaving our room?"

"I... I wanted to, um, have a little bit of privacy-" You try to explain.

"And who gave you permission to?" Starscream looks at you, making you bite your own glossa and hold your helm down.

"You found them! Oh, thanks Primus!" Skywarp cries as he arrives, quick to run and hug you. Sunstorm and Dirge follow closely, hugging you just like Skywarp (Dirge needs to hold you, Sunstorm... well, he knows having too many bots hugging you makes you anxious and prone to just not move, not fight back.)

"Now -" Thrust starts. "You could have got hurt or taken away, sweetspark." Skywarp, Dirge and Sunstorm finally let you go, but their servos rest on your back, gently pushing you to keep walking as Starscream lead the way.

You try to be brave. "I just wanted to - to..." You fail.

"Hush - it is already night time." Starscream orders softly, and you shut your mouth at it. "It is time to recharge, my Conjux."

"She is my Conjux!" Thundercracker shouts the moment you and your lovers enter your shared room. Slipstream nonchalantly slaps the back of Thundercracker's helm, making him hiss.

"She is our Conjux." Ramjet says, smiling with optics full of love as he takes your free servo and pull you gently towards the big berth all of you slept.

You end resting against Starscream's chestplate, his arms wrapped around you. Somehow, the others always manage to sleep touching you - two helms resting against your legs, a servo touching your back, another one your shoulderplate, a helm nestled against your torso. It makes you feel trapped.

"Rest well, my Conjux." Starscream whispers to you after kissing your forehelm, Slipstream gently snuzzling her helm against your torso as Sunstorm and Thrust trace their digits on your back, Dirge and Ramjet coo and whisper sweet nothings to you quietly as you feel Thundercracker hug your legs, Skywarp resting his helm on Starscream's shoulder so he could look at you.

You close your optics, embracing dearfuly the only time you are allowed to be alone - whenever you recharge.

I hope you like it! This week has been a little bit too much for me, but it was interesting to write this! (*^▽^*) Vhaos out!

[footballffbarbiex]

To Make A Point

and in the first instance of "letting my thoughts run wild".....enjoy.

the gif is a major indicator of what is happening. and yeah. it's smut. warnings: mentions of thigh riding, dirty talk, praise, pussy eating, fingering, nipple play, spitting to get you wet.

sprawled out before him in a barely there bra, the cups of it askew from the way Trent has moved the fabric out of the way to suck your nipples between those beautiful lips of his and lapped his tongue over them until they'd formed hard peaks. pleasure flows throughout you, rippling out from where his mouth connects with your breast.

your panties were removed what feels like hours ago and your exposed core leaves a wet mark upon his thigh with each movement.

"keep doing that baby and I'll think you're trying to ride it." he speaks his words onto your skin, his tongue continuing to lap against you as often as he can as he speaks before his teeth gently pull on it until you whimper at the light pinch.

"I really need you to eat my pussy Trent," you sound downright pathetic but it works. "please baby, show me how good you can make me feel."

his hands trace over your body, each time getting lower and lower as he begins to kiss his way from the valley of your breasts down your navel and to between your thighs. here, while his eyes are fixed on you, his fingers smooth up and down, parting your lips and pinning your clit between his first two fingers. the slow drag makes your cunt tighten and your clit throb against him.

"I dont think you're all that wet, you must not want me enough." he teases, thumb swiping over your clit; making you buck your hips as much as possible and arch your back. your breathing is board line pants now and you're not ashamed to consider actual begging for him to satisfy you.

"better use that mouth then." you suggest, eyes widening as he nods in agreement and purses his lips together. he spits quickly in a perfect aim, the hot liquid hitting it's mark on your slit. the two fingers that had enveloped your clit drag downwards, smearing his saliva over your pussy and mixes it with your own wetness.

"you like that, huh?" he asks, already knowing the answer as he feels your core contract in a tight hold as his fingers near your hole. "didn't think you'd be one for spitting." he chuckles, watching as he smears the mixed liquids over you.

"neither did I," your confession is quiet, the extra lubricant only adding layers of sensitivity to the lightness of Trent's touch. he stimulates the outside of your pussy in such a way, you don't know how much longer you'll be able to hold on before climaxing.

"look at you." he mockingly coos, "getting so overstimulated and I've barely touched you. trying to ride my thigh, rubbing this fucking beautiful pussy all over my leg just to get yourself off. so needy."

"I desperately need you."

"I can see that." he nods, pursing his lips again to blow cool air over you. you tighten up again and a soft moan sounds.

"please."

"please what?" he asks you, eyes locking onto yours as he waits for your answer.

"please lick my pussy Trent." you say in a tone that expresses more than your verbalised need does.

he doesn't reply, but while he keeps his gaze on your face, he presses his mouth to your cunt and begins to lap.

[soanliawriter]

He knows your weakness is him...

Soshiro Hoshina x f!reader

Subtle nsfw warning, trust me, the others I have in store is a lot more, intense, this is just the beginning! Happy reading! 😏

༺⌘♡⌘༻

Dating the Vice Captain of the Third Division is definitely something. You were the first to confess to him but it was embarrassing to say the least, with his usual fox eyed look widen his eyes, seeing his crimson orbs staring into yours, that day was when Kafka Hibino was getting promoted, you excused yourself and surprisingly your Vice Captain followed suite, leaving the others to party and drink for a while longer. His response was something you thought only happened in the movies or series.

"I like ya" he says in his kansai dialect, your heart couldn't contain the excitement it felt; it feels like it's about to burst. "What" you murmured silently as his eyes are back to his fox like eyes, "I like ya. For a long time" he confirmed it, now your brain is trying to solve the puzzle while your heart is ready to beat out of your chest.

Ever since that day, you two started dating. No one in his platoon knows, and you both plan to keep it that way until both of you are ready. Dating him is indeed something, you later learned that he loves teasing you, putting you on the edge as he loves to see you tremble in his touches, the sudden hugs or kisses he gives. It's the feeling inside you that loves it so much, even though you show a face towards him that you didn't like it; but in reality you do. Can't he just f*ck me right now? You thought as he does it again today as you both cuddled in his bed, his right arm hugging you, feather touching your arm up and down, it turns you on but at the same time, it's comforting.

"Vice Cap--ah!" Hearing him tutting after feeling the subtle but tender slap he gave your ass, "what did I say about that? Your my girlfriend, no matter our roles, we're datin aren't we?" That caught you off guard a bit, gulping as you nodded, "sorry, Soshiro" hearing a hum of satisfaction, you can tell he's smiling without looking, "yes baby?" He waits for your response, sitting up and looking at him, your fingers drawing lazy shapes on his bare chest, "can we?".

You two have been dating for 2 years, that long and no one has known you're dating your Vice Captain. Soshiro knows that when you don't finish your sentence, "are you needy baby?" He asked in a husky voice, that sent shivers down your spine as you're red as a tomato, without words you nodded. He chuckles deeply, sitting up on his elbows as his left hand cups your right cheek, "ya wanna baby?" There he goes again, teasing you. Feeling your body heating up, everytime the cool night breeze brushes on your skin sending chills down your pussy.

"Yes Soshiro... Please" begging was something he secretly loves, how did you discover that? He was fingering you so intensely as his mouth eats the sensitive bundle of nerves on his office desk once, he teases you to not letting you cum, when you started begging for him, he had a menacing smirk, "f*ck baby" he whispers as he lets you cum finally. Ever since that day that you knew his secret, you decided to use it tonight. Ovulation week is sure dangerous when you have a partner this hot and attractive. You thought once more.

"We'll go slow baby, okay?" He softly says before he leans in for a kiss. Making out was not new to neither of you, his kisses were often soft and tender, he starts it that way all the time, he starts to go harder, pushing your body down to his mattress, your legs automatically opening as he rests in between them, your arms hugging him as he continues his kisses. So passionate, so full of love. But that soon turned intensed as you felt his tongue tracing your lips, asking for entrance to enter your mouth, not wasting any time you granted his tongue permission to enter your cavern. Moaning softly as his calloused hands got under your shirt and bra, he clicked his tongue as he moved his lips up to the shell of your ear, "a bra huh? With me baby, ya don't need to wear one" cheeks flaring up as he massages your delicate breasts as he sucks on your ear sensually. "Soshiro~" hearing him chuckle deeply, "such a sensitive gal I got, hm?" He cups your chin and turned your head the other side to suck on your most sensitive ear, earning a moan a little louder this time.

His skillful slender fingers starts to stimulate the poor sensitive nipples you have that made you arches your back, feeling him even more. "I'm not doing much yet baby" he chuckles as he kisses your ear and going lower with his kisses yet again. Around your body goes so sensitive with him. Sucking and nibbling on your neck, marking you as his once again, his hands continuing their mission to give you a nipple orgasm.

"Ya like that?" He asks, no words were coming out as you nodded your head, he pulls away for a while, removing your shirt and tossing it somewhere in his bedroom as his kisses travels down, sucking on your collarbones marking you there. Once he's satisfied, he gave attention to your nipples once more, using his fang tooth to lightly bit on the left nipple of yours, "f*ck Soshiro" you moaned out, hearing him chuckling and feeling his smile around your nipple; he did the same thing on your right. His amazing with his mouth and tongue, even when he's biting your delicate fragile skin, once you started arching your back and grabbing a handful of his dark violet hair, moaning loudly, feeling his smirk against your skin. That was a sign you're about to reach your orgasm. Soshiro loves that just from this, he can make you orgasm, his fingers and dick hasn't been entered you yet.

"Soshiro.. Soshiro~~" he hums as he fasten his tongue and pinches and twists your nipple as you started quivering all over, feeling the pleasure rushing through your system, arching your back over and over again as you finally orgasmed, "f-f*ck! Soshi! Soshi!" Body shaking as you try to lift his head off of you, he chuckles as he examines your face, "that's ma girl" he whispers to your ear as his fingers teases your super sensitive nipples; it got you screaming and laughing pushing his hands away.

"The second course for tonight," he whispers down your ear, "my fingers inside ya, and ma tongue on that pretty little pussy"

༺⌘♡⌘༻

Stay tuned for part 2😏🔞

[houseofanticipation]

You're sitting with your friend Sam at a coffee shop, catching up. She's telling you about an instagram ad she keeps getting for some audiobook streaming service. "It's just crazy," she says, "because I was just telling Lucille I wanted to start reading more books but I never have the time, and then it's like instantly I'm getting these ads all the time."

"So what," you say over your steaming mug, "you think they're listening to you?"

Sam shakes her head. "Honestly I think it's almost scarier than that. They have so much information about us, they don't even need to listen to our conversations. They just know, based on everything they've gathered about me, that I'm probably someone who wants to listen to audiobooks."

"Well they can't be that smart," you say. "Because the only ads I've been getting lately are for something called Slut Cream."

Sam raises an eyebrow. "You must know I'm going to need more details."

You take out your phone and find an ad to show her. It's not difficult; literally all of the ads you see on instagram are like this. They're even showing up in other places now, on webpages you visit or apps you use. This one is one you've seen before: a beautiful woman in a crop top that just barely covers her nipples is proudly displaying a squeeze tube of the kind you'd buy sunscreen or toothpaste in. The caption says, "Being a slut isn't a hobby—it's a lifestyle! Step up your slut game with Slut Cream! Shop Now"

"I don't even know what slut cream is," you say. "All you get when you look it up is a bunch of porn."

"Well, obviously it's a way to step up your slut game," says Sam sagely. "What does it say on the website?"

"Oh, I'm not clicking the link," you say. "I don't want to encourage them! What I want to know is why suddenly this ad is all I can seem to see!"

Sam shoots you a wink. "Maybe you're just a slut. These data brokers know us better than we know ourselves."'

What neither of you know is that it's actually quite easy to buy online ad space, and they let you get pretty specific with your intended audience.

I live in the next apartment over from you. I've been watching you for a long time, studying you, listening to you through our shared wall. We've talked a few times, some terse conversation at the mailboxes or in the hall, which is how I knew enough about you to place those ads, with audience parameters so specific that probably only you and about five other people would see them. I had fun making them; hiring the model to do the photoshoot, dusting off the skills I picked up in that college graphic design course, creating a website for this fake business (though I'm disappointed you still haven't clicked through to see it). If you actually tried to buy slut cream, the website would tell you we're currently closed due to high traffic, and to check back later. Nowhere on the website does it explain what slut cream is.

A number of strange things happen to you over the course of the following day. On your lunch break you walk down the block to the deli by your office. You're in here every weekday, but today the energy here is different. People are staring you, side-eyeing you, having whispered conversations that stop abruptly when you get too close. As you're walking back to work, an old woman spits on the ground as you pass, you'd swear you heard the word "whore!" hissed under her breath. You wonder if you should say something, stand up for yourself, but she's elderly, probably confused, and you decide to be the bigger person.

In the hours after lunch, you're propositioned by no less than seven of your male coworkers. You've had to refuse a few invitations to dinner in your time, but seven in a day is completely out of the ordinary, and the things these men are offering to do to you go way outside the bounds of first date stuff. One guy tells you the conference room is empty, if you want to go for a quick fuck; another guy tells you he hasn't cum in a month, and if you sucked his cock he'd pump so much cum down your throat that you wouldn't need to eat dinner. Your boss even tells you he and his wife are looking for a third and he thought of you first, like he's offering you a big promotion. The strangest thing is that all of these men seem genuinely surprised when you turn them down. Like this sort of thing usually works with girls. One guy even says, "sorry, I was just trying to help."

It was pretty easy to hire actors for the deli and the street. You go to the same place every day, so I knew where they'd have to go and roughly when they'd need to be there. The harder part was getting your coworkers to play along, especially because I was picky about getting people who could sell the act. For a few of them all it took was money. A few of them I had to blackmail. For your boss I had to call in a favor, get his boss to threaten his job. He protested, but I think it made his cock hard, thinking about fucking you alongside his wife.

I keep this up for a few weeks. Anywhere you go I have people watching you, talking about you behind your back. I have people approaching you on the train, at the park, in restaurants, offering to fuck you like they're doing you a favor. You stay firm in your refusal—I wouldn't have expected any less from you—but I can tell it's beginning to eat at you. I watch you try to figure out what you're doing that seems to give all these people the wrong idea about you; you start to dress more modestly, talk less, even walk a little less confidently. But none of this will change anything. All it will do is make you feel more repressed.

After a month, I decide it's time to make my move. I could probably wait longer, but the anticipation is getting too much for me, and besides, you're beginning to get a little wild around the eyes. I'd hate to break you before I've had my fun. One evening, when I know you're home, I unlock your apartment with the duplicate key I had made two months ago. You're in the kitchen, washing dishes with headphones on; you didn't hear me come in. I leave the door open as I approach you, admiring the way you shake your ass to whatever it is you're listening to. I get right up behind you and stay there for a moment, lavishing in your innocence, feeling my cock strain at my belt as I imagine taking it away from you. Then I reach around front of you with both arms and plunge my hand into your panties

You shout in shock, fight back, try to push me off as the headphones fall off your head. But I've got you pinned against the counter, my full body weight against you, one hand down your pants, the other groping your breasts. Once you realize that fighting won't help, you stop struggling and ask me what I want. "Please," you say. Just hearing that quiver in your voice almost makes me delirious with lust. "Please, let me go. I don't want this, please."

I bury my face in your neck, kissing and breathing you in. You smell incredible, like fear and sweat and sex. I bring my lips up to your ear, let them brush against you as I speak. "Of course you want this, baby. You've been trying so hard to hide it, but you don't have to hide with me. Look, you left the door open for me." I let you turn your head enough to see the door hanging open just as my fingers find your clit. I'm rubbing you gently, tenderly, just the way I've watched you touch yourself through the webcam I have in your room. My other hand is under your shirt now and I'm squeezing your breast, rolling your nipple between my fingers, feeling it slowly grow full and erect. You try to stifle a soft moan and I kiss your neck again. "It's okay, baby. You don't have to be ashamed. It's okay to want to feel good. Let me make you feel good."

You clutch your face in your hands and let out a cry of frustration and humiliation and agony and pleasure. You barely know me; I'm the guy next door who sometimes looks at you a little too long. The guy you speed up to avoid in the hall. But that feeling radiating from you clit... You think how exhausting it's been, doing everything you could think of to change people's perception of you, get them to stop looking at you as a slut, how none of it has done you any good anyway. You wonder if you'd have had more fun fucking Jim in the conference room, or swallowing Dylan's cum, or having a threesome with your boss and his wife. And that throbbing in your clit, the agonizing pleasure...You remember that beautiful woman in the ad: "Being a slut isn't a hobby—it's a lifestyle!" You think about how happy she looked, how fulfilled. You remember Sam's words: "These data brokers know us better than we know ourselves."

It does feel good, doesn't it? To let me touch you, pleasure you, to let go of this act you've been holding on to. Isn't it okay to want to feel good? Why did you ever let anyone make you ashamed of that? You try out another moan, letting the pleasure well up through your chest and out your mouth. It feels good, so you try another, and another, and then you're leaning back into me, grinding up against me, delighting in the feeling of my hard cock against your ass.

"Good," I say. "You're letting go of those silly hang-ups. Now we can have our real fun." My hands still around you, controlling you, I half lead-half carry your trembling body to the bedroom. I throw you on the bed, face up so I can get a good look at your eyes, see what I've done to your mind. Those same eyes that have avoided me in the hall so many times now gaze hungrily up at me, wanting me, needing me.

Who am I do decline?

I pull off your pants and panties as a single unit, letting you take care of your shirt for yourself. I kick of my own bottoms, letting my throbbing cock slap against your leg as it springs from its confinement. Don't think I don't notice the way your whole body shivers when it touches you. I lift your legs and push your knees up towards your ears; you're remarkably flexible. It must be all that yoga I've watched you do at the place downtown. I've greatly enjoyed your visits to that place, so it's nice to see they weren't in vain.

You're afraid of me, all of a sudden. Maybe some part of you is seeing sense, realizing you'd have to be crazy to let a guy like me come into your home and fuck you like this. But what was the alternative? Have me rape you? Let me tell you, darling: I would have raped you. You feel the head of my cock gliding over your skin, exploring your inner thighs and pubic area, and tremble at my touch. I want this, you tell yourself. This is what a slut like me needs.

All the same, you cry a little bit when I penetrate you. It's not because it hurts—it does hurt a bit, but you're wet enough, and it's not entirely a bad pain. It's not because you're afraid—well, maybe in part, but that's not the core of it. You cry because you're finally letting go. Letting go of the person you used to be, or thought you were. It's the relief of knowing you don't have to pretend anymore, wrapped up with the mourning you feel when you lose a potential version of yourself. I lean across you as my cock fills you up, and tenderly, I kiss away your tears. "Hush, my darling. I'm here. I will always be here. I will love you despite what you are, when everyone else turns away in disgust."

My weight on you feels good, comforting. The way I press down on your legs, stretching you out, driving my cock so deep inside you that it brushes your cervix. It hurts a little, but is that any better than you deserve? Could a slut like you really expect to find better than this? Better than unconditional love and a desire to give you the pleasure you need?

I'm speeding up now, my face something like an animal, furious and insistent as I gaze down at you. There's darkness behind my eyes, you think, something cold and cruel. You thank God I'm on your side. My hips are like a hammer on your pelvis now, and with each thrust you feel my cock bulging inside you, throbbing and pulsating with anticipation. When I finally plant my seed in you, groaning and growling and pressing you further into the bed, you find there's something comforting about the warmth of my cum inside you. Maybe my seed will take root, make you swell up with me, make you mine. As I roll off you, huffing and panting, the tears begin to stream down your face again, this time from joy.

What did a slut like you ever do to deserve someone who loves you like I do?

[sxcret-garden]

Jongho ღ 3:38pm [M]

ღ Ateez Jongho x fem-bodied!reader ღ words: ~1.8k ღ genre: (implied) fwb, roommate AU, smut (mean dom!Jongho, masturbation, reader fucks themselves with a hairbrush, guided masturbation, humiliation, spanking, degrading nicknames (slut, whore), ruined orgasm, he cums all over reader) ღ warnings: heavy dom-sub dynamic

Desc.: In which your roommate and friend with benefits walks in on you getting yourself off on top of his bed with the help of a hairbrush, and he’s anything but impressed.

Author’s note: me: i don’t like mean doms!!! - also me:

Out of all the times he could’ve caught you getting off, it just had to be now. The fact that you're completely naked, sprawled out and on full display really isn't the worst part. Neither is the fact that you're lying on his bed, and not yours. No, the real worst detail about this is something entirely different.

"A hairbrush?" Jongho raises an eyebrow at you as he leans against the doorframe to his room, arms crossed and his burning gaze not leaving your figure. You gulp. You had been so close when he had opened the door surprisingly - you had apparently failed to hear him unlock the front door when he came home earlier than you had expected - and now the disappointment from your orgasm slipping away from you mixes in with the utter embarrassment you're feeling about being caught red handed. "Couldn't even afford a proper toy, huh," he scoffs, mockingly, and your breath hitches at his tone. He knows the effect he has on you, he knows it very well, but in combination with the shame you currently already feel, the wave of heat it sends rushing through your body is just a little stronger than you'd have expected it to be. 

You don't know how to respond, honestly. And so, while a part of you is still hoping he'd simply turn around and let you finish what you'd started, another part is desperately hoping he would continue talking, eventually saying something, anything, that would make this situation better in the slightest. However, he takes his time looking you up and down, letting his gaze wander your body as if it was the first time he's seen you naked and in a state like this, and his lips slightly part at the sight to give way for a gasp that is barely audible even to you, having all of your senses currently heightened.

"Keep going," he finally speaks. "I'll watch." You stare at him with wide eyes, not having expected this kind of reaction at all, but it's also not like you have it in you to disobey him, so keep going is what you do. You whimper at the sensation of the handle of the hairbrush gliding past your walls, almost all the way out of you, before you slowly push it back in and your eyelids flutter shut. "Look at me," Jongho commands, "while you fuck yourself on that thing." A whine makes its way past your lips, before you bite down on your bottom lip in an attempt to keep more such sounds from slipping out as you do your best to keep eye contact with your roommate. But no matter how hard you try, you can't withstand his intense gaze, and so you close your eyes a second time when you thrust the brush inside your pussy once more. 

A click of his tongue snaps you back out of it. That's all it takes for you to peek up at him again, and you don't fail to notice a hint of a bulge in his pants. Of course he'd get hard upon seeing you in such a pathetic state, trying to get yourself off on your hairbrush, because your fingers just weren't enough as a substitute for his cock. Not like the handle of the brush is, but at least it gets a little closer to what you're really craving.

"J-jongho..." you mewl his name as your fingers are sloppily working your clit, drawing circles onto the sensitive bud that burn like fire under your roommate's gaze.

"What?" he answers, while you begin moving the hairbrush in and out of you more quickly. It must be completely soiled by now - no way you can use that thing to brush your hair without thoroughly washing it first, but that's a problem for later. "Were so desperate for my cock that you decided anything would do at this point?" He hits the bullseye on first guess, and though that doesn't surprise you, it still sends a shockwave of pleasure through your veins, having you clench around the handle of the brush. "Show me how good you can fuck yourself on this thing," he demands. "Bet a hairbrush won't satisfy a little whore like you when you have the real thing standing right in front of you, huh?" An uncontrolled whimper escapes you at his words, your hips bucking into your hands desperately trying to find the right pace that would let you ride on the wave towards your high. 

"Fuck..." you mewl, still picking up speed and angling the brush so that with every stroke against your walls, it would be sure to hit that delicious spot deep inside.

"Lift your legs up, little slut," you can hear him mutter. "Gonna feel better that way."

"Mhmm," you let out a noise as you do as told, bringing your knees all the way up to your shoulders, and giving him a better look at your dripping cunt in the process.

"If you're gonna act like a slut, might as well look like it," he says, and his gaze drops to your ass. "Keep going. Nobody told you to stop." And you do, and the new angle really does make everything feel that much more intense.

"Shit, Jongho..." You can't help his name from falling from your lips as you close your eyes once again, hoping that this time he'd allow you to. 

"Need to be filled up so bad, hm? You don't care what gets stuffed into your cute little pussy so long as it's full. Admit it. You just wanna cum around something, doesn't matter what it is that gets shoved up there." His words resounding in your ears, you can't decide whether you agree or not, but you sure as hell do know that the way he talks to you is getting you closer and closer to the edge.

"Y-yeah," you mutter, in hopes he'd keep going, keep humiliating you like that until your orgasm comes crashing down on you. And then you hear rustling very close to you, and you feel a hand wrapping around yours, that's holding onto the brush, and he sets his own pace of thrusting the object in and out of you.

"F-fuck...!" You cry out as your eyes open in surprise, and you see Jongho hovering above you, now closer than ever as he calmly watches you writhing in pleasure underneath him.

"Too bad you can't appreciate what you're given," he goes on. "My cock would've been so much better. Hell, even my fingers. But you settle on a hairbrush," he scoffs, thrusting the object into you with such force that it makes your head spin as you roll your eyes back. "You really think you're gonna get off on this thing, huh? Don't make me laugh." At this point all you can utter are incoherent moans as you desperately keep playing with your clit, chasing your high that feels so damn close. "Aren't you embarrassed to be doing this on my bed? If you wanna get fucked so badly here, maybe you should've waited for me, hm?" And again, no proper answer will leave your lips, and with just a few more thrusts of the brush into your cunt, you're thrown over the edge.

You clench around nothing. The finger pressed to your clit isn't enough to keep you high on the wave of pleasure you'd been hoping for. Instead, you mewl pathetically, emptiness overtaking you as a rather weak orgasm comes to a halt way too soon. He pulled out just as you reached your high, and now he's kneeling there in front of you, throwing the soiled brush to the side, and even though you prepare yourself for what's to come as he lifts up his right hand, you still cry out as it comes flying to your ass. You hiss at the tingling pain that remains, no warm palm rubbing soothing circles onto the spot to ease it right away. Instead, a second smack, making you arch your back in pain and pleasure as you moan. And then a third one, and when you open your eyes to look at Jongho, you can't accurately read the expression currently sitting on his face, and it makes you nervous.

"Should've thought things through beforehand, huh?" That's all he says, before he unzips his pants and pulls down his boxers to let his cock spring free. With only a few thrusts of his large hand it's grown to its full size, and as your body remembers what it feels like to have him inside you, you gasp. "You want this?" he mutters darkly, while jerking himself off at an unhurried pace.

"Y-yeah..." you say, unable to take your eyes off him. Your roommate huffs, a hint of amusement sparking in his eyes.

"And you think you're gonna get that?" Hearing him pose his question, you're sure you already know the answer. But you keep hoping anyway, and so you can't but beg.

"Please... gonna be good from now on..."

"A good little slut for me?" Precum leaks from the tip, and when his fist reaches it he spreads it all over his length in one swift motion.

"Yeah..."

"Cute," he says, his hand moving a bit faster yet. "Then do what good little sluts do and hold still." Hope dies last, they say, but as you watch the features on his face contort and his breath grows heavier, you know not to expect to be satisfied today. However, you can't bring yourself to disobey either, and so you lie there and watch as he makes himself cum with a groan, his seed spurting all over you. Painted in white from your chest down to your belly button, your vision goes blurry for a second, before Jongho catches his breath and he pulls his pants back up. Getting off the bed, you watch in disbelief as he walks out the room as you’re covered in the mess you caused, but when moments later he reappears with a towel in his hands you let out a sigh of relief. He sits down beside you, leaning in so his lips hover just above your ear.

"All of that could've gone inside of you," he mutters, the thought alone drawing a whine out of you. "Stuffed full not only with my cock, but with my cum too. You would've liked that, hm?" He brushes a stray strand of hair out of your face, but to be honest the loving gesture only makes you feel conflicted. "Clean yourself, baby," he commands, handing you the towel. "And maybe if you're being good I'll remind you of who can satisfy your greedy little cunt best later on."

[ovaryacted]

what about ID Leon (feel like he’d have been a total fuckboy atp as a sort of phase) but what ab he always comes back to you and after a heated argument he fucks you as he’s pressing your face into the mattress while you're crying and clutching the sheets as you’re begging him to let you finish again 🤭

MDNI/18+. NSFW. | cw: Leon is ooc. Possible toxic relationship.

Ooooooo, you’re cooking here anon. Even though I personally don’t headcanon or view Leon as a fuckboy (because let’s face it, that man is not getting laid for the life of him I mean…), let’s go ahead and say he has an ego and it is reflected in his shitty communication skills (cause of anxiety and trauma womp womp).

-

It was a heated moment where Leon accidentally raised his voice at you, mentioning something about not listening to orders on a mission. It was a close call and you had ventured off without Leon’s support, and he kept calm until you were both back home. It first started as a regular conversation until it deviated from Leon not being able to keep you within arm’s reach, to you being too individualistic. You knew why he did this, he was often too worried for his good and you’d always remind him that you could handle yourself even if he didn’t believe you.

“You have to listen to me when we’re out there. Do you know what could’ve happened or do you just not give a shit?”, Leon huffed out a breath, his arms crossing over his chest and shooting daggers at you.

“Well, I’m not you Leon, not all of us think the way you do. The sooner you accept it the better!”, you grew more defiant, more angry for God knows what. The bitterness you felt from Leon always being gone to never listening to you on missions started to fester out of control.

The argument only got more intense, turning into a yelling match between the both of you. Hurtful words were said, things neither of you meant, and with a cruel “Go fuck yourself Leon”, you watched him walk out the door and slam it behind him.

You pissed him off, he pissed you off, but there was nobody else who understood your relationship the way you both did. This wasn’t the first time you two argued either, often happening after you were both stressed out and didn’t find a proper release for it. You couldn’t blame Leon entirely, always being forced to do the government’s bidding and having limited freedom would put anybody on the verge of a breakdown. Being each other’s vices also didn’t help, so it wasn’t surprising when you found Leon knocking on your front door with furrowed eyebrows close to a day later.

He smelled like whiskey, not too much to the point where it was dizzying, but enough to let you know he was drinking. Leon wasn’t there to talk, you knew that much, stuck in a never-ending cycle of adrenaline and unresolved issues.

That was how you found yourself in this position now, face down ass up on the mattress. The things that happened after you welcomed Leon back into the apartment and closed the door behind him were a blur. You remembered him kissing you hard on the mouth, walking you backward towards the bedroom and yanking on your clothes. He wasn’t gentle, not entirely, but when he pulled you forward by the leg as his mouth gravitated towards your cunt, you couldn’t stop him. You didn’t want to.

“Leon…please…”, you could barely speak, barely think, your brain was melting and spilling out of your ears along with the rest of you. You couldn’t bring yourself to care about the consequences and how this might seem. Always fighting with this man just to end up back in bed with him was something you should be embarrassed about. But with the way he was pummeling into you, it was easier to forgive him.

“Just shut up”, he muttered under his breath, fucking into you harshly from behind and focusing on the way your walls pulsed around his cock. He was relentless, moving in an aggressive push-and-pull that hadn’t stopped since he crossed the threshold of your front door. The back of his hand grabbed onto your head, pushing your face against the mattress and making you release a muffled whimper.

You hid your face in the bed, tears slipping down your cheeks and your fingers digging into the sheets. Maybe this was what you deserved, to be tested constantly so Leon could come back home, back to you.

“Quit your fucking whining, I’ll let you cum”, Leon didn’t stop, knowing you were on the verge of cumming all over him for the umpteenth time. No matter how mad he was at you at the moment or how badly you pissed him off, he would let you cum however many times you could.

Sometimes you hated him for it, how he could play your body like a violin and pull every string taut until it snapped. He drained you, he stressed you out, but you still gave yourself willingly every time because that’s what made him stay.

This was how he liked you. Pliant and taking what he had to give. That was all you could do, because no matter what, Leon always came back to you.

[husbandhoshi]

[9:17 PM]

"no." you close your eyes and force yourself to take a deep breath. "nononono."

you thought the worst thing that could happen already happened—you discovered your favorite noodle place wasn't open today, and you were forced to make your peace with that. (albeit with tears. and utter devastation.)

turns out that didn't even scratch the surface of terrible, no good things that could happen today, because now, your roommate junhui is at the front door and he's the absolute last person you want to see today.

on any other day, this would be fine. good, even.

when you first moved in with junhui, you never expected to become good friends. really, you were just happy to have a place to sleep—at first, he was just some guy, and the fact that he was a medical student was a cool bonus.

that is, until you sprained your ankle going down the stairs four months ago. he wrapped it on the futon in the living room and then proceeded to keep you company for the rest of the night while you wrestled with an ice pack. it was then when you learned what it felt like to fall in love, hopelessly and instantly.

you hear him jiggle the door handle again. he likely forgot his keys, and you would let him in until you consider the fact that you look no better than a mole rat at the moment. you woke up this morning with a fever and a wicked headache, and neither of those have gotten better since then. you don't even think you've left your room yet today.

"please don't tell me you're taking a nap," he whines, muffled by the door. "i got pizza."

fuck.

you peel yourself out of bed and catch a glimpse of yourself in your vanity. not good. if you had a choice, you would want to greet him in something other than your two-day pajamas. unfortunately, your only option at the moment is slapping on some lip gloss and calling it a day, and it's now that you begin contemplating the absolute death of a possibility of having a shot with junhui. hot guys like him don't date mole rats, even if they're wearing lip gloss.

finally you reach the front door, resigned to your fate. maybe you really should get back on the apps, as much as you hate to say it.

"sorry," you say as you let junhui in. "i was in bed."

he's in his scrubs, stethoscope round his neck. he must have had a long day today, but he still smiles at you with as much warmth as always. it makes your heart actually hurt, as if you aren't feeling sick enough.

"i figured— 's ok. it's pizza time," he chants. "you eat yet?"

you hide your face as you grab him a plate. the answer is no (soup or bust was your earlier conclusion), but you don't want to risk getting him sick, especially after he spent a whole day in the hospital. it's then when you feel a hand on your shoulder, turning you around.

"hey, you good?" you're met with junhui's eyes, now squinty as he looks you over. "are you sick, or are you just happy to see me? 'cause you look warm."

"um." you swallow hard, feeling bare. if you knew you would be this close to his face, you would have at least run a comb through your hair. "i might have a teeny, tiny little temperature. maybe."

that's all you need to say. he immediately brings the back of his hand to your forehead, and if you weren't already doomed, you sure are now.

"maybe a little more than tiny, huh?" he chuckles. "let me get you some meds."

you like how he doesn't scold you for not telling him sooner or guilt you for causing trouble after work. you watch him rifle through the cabinets, muttering to himself about this and that, and you start to feel a little silly about worrying what he thought of you.

"take these," he says, putting a couple of pills in your palm before opening a water bottle for you. "and follow my finger."

you watch him draw a square with his pointer finger before he brings it in between your eyes so they cross.

"i-is everything ok?" you squeak.

"yeah," he laughs. "it's just cute when you do that."

cute?! you thank god he wasn't using that stethoscope on you, because he definitely would have diagnosed you with something right on the spot. instead, you take your meds, grateful that he didn't ask whether or not you had more than a tablespoon of water today (spoiler alert—you didn't).

you're still mentally scrambling to decode what he could possibly be talking about when he bends down to meet your eyes.

"you're lucky. it's not terminal." you try to fight the corners of your mouth from turning up at his incredibly lame joke, but it doesn't work—instead, you smile, and you watch him smile back. "but you should get some rest. i need you alive this weekend."

"w-why?"

you feel your stomach drop to your knees, even though that's anatomically impossible, and you're not sure what a heart attack really is, but you think you just had one.

he needs to stop looking at you like that, or you will do some damage.

"you wanted to go to that new restaurant down the street, right? i have the day off."

"you mean, like a d—"

"like a date." he hands you your water bottle. "i'm asking you on a date. now get some rest, okay?"

you feel like a walking skeleton as he turns you around to face the door to your room. you want to fall to your knees and jump for joy all at once, but you plan to save that for when your bedroom door is shut tight behind you. if the bedhead wasn't enough, acting like even more of a fool in front of him would definitely scare him off.

"i like the lip gloss, by the way," he hollers after you. "nice touch."

you turn back to glare at him, because now he's just bullying you. you wonder how long he knew about your little problem, which would be humiliating if you weren't so down bad.

"what? you love me."

but he's right. you do, you really do. and you guess he just might love you back too.