#please select a different task

[ilynpilled]

if i had control over the asoiaf brand i would make a kingsguad simulator game where u play as a kg and u r just failing at ur job like the point is that u have to keep doing fuck all. like multitasking useless bullshit like stand around search the walls and interact with your terrible irredeemable coworkers and the main goal is to make sure your monarch doesnt die (accidentally walks off of a wall, tries to get their toast out of the toaster with a fork, drinks liquid fire, gets assassinated by at least 20 ppl they made enemies out of, drowns in a bathtub, has to partake in a wedding, goes hunting on mdma etc). there are different difficulty levels. like do u want an 8 year old child incest bastard king whose reign is built around the policy of outlawing beets? a hedonistic drunkard whose main ideology is fuck it we ball? another incest bastard kid that is the equivalent of the average slur yelling 13 year old cod player but with direct access to a nuclear button? and ur boss comes back once every blue moon and yells at you and demolishes all ur XP and then disappears to dick around with a character arc or something leaving u to deal with whatever machiavellian jigsaw trap is in the city rn.

[kiwriteswords]

Hiya! May i please request protective Aaron Hotchner? Thanks Ki!

To the Ends of the Earth [Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader]

Masterlist || Ao3||Word Count: 4k|| AN: LOVE PROTECTIVE HOTCH!! Thanks for requesting!!

Tags/Warnings: no use of y/n, canon-typical themes, reader was taken advantage of by a powerful figure, protective!Hotch, mentions of sexual assault/harassment, mentions of physical altercations, blackmail, canon-typical violence, angry Hotch, protective!Derek Morgan, Hotch's POV, Reader defending herself, established relationship, Strauss is a nightmare boss sometimes, Aaron "I must make sure justice is served" Hotchner, bureaucratic politics

Summary: When an opportunity of a lifetime turns into a nightmare for you, Aaron Horchner needs to make it right.

Aaron Hotchner was not a man given to fits of rage. His demeanor, honed by years of service and hardship, was one of controlled calm, a fortress of logic and order. But as he watched you move around the kitchen that morning, something stirred deep within him—a tumultuous blend of protectiveness and fury that he hadn't felt since the harrowing days of George Foyet.

Something was off about you. It had been for a few weeks now, ever since you returned from that high-profile assignment with the task force. Hotch remembered how proud he had felt when you were selected, the honor that lit up your eyes, the excitement that animated your every gesture. But now, the light had faded from your eyes, replaced by a haunted, distant gaze.

Your movements were mechanical, your smiles forced. You flinched at sudden movements and seemed to wrap yourself tighter in your own arms whenever the house fell too quiet. The changes were subtle, but to Hotch, they screamed of something profoundly wrong.

He watched now as you poured coffee with slightly trembling hands, the dark liquid spilling slightly over the rim of the mug. Hotch's jaw clenched. He approached you, his steps silent but purposeful.

"Hey," he said, his voice soft yet carrying an undercurrent of concern that made you pause and look up. "We need to talk."

You nodded, setting the coffee pot down a bit too quickly, liquid sloshing onto the counter. "I know," you murmured, avoiding his gaze.

Hotch reached out, gently lifting your chin so you were looking into his eyes. "What happened on that assignment?" he asked, his voice low and intense. "You've been different since you came back."

Your eyes filled with tears, and you bit your lip, a clear struggle within you. The room was thick with tension, the air heavy with unspoken fears.

"It's... it was nothing, Aaron. I—I just got overwhelmed with the work, that's all," you stammered, but Hotch's eyes darkened. He knew you. He knew when you were hiding something painful.

"Talk to me," he pressed, his hand firm yet gentle on your arm. "Please."

The floodgates opened then, and as you told him about your boss—the respected and powerful figure within the Bureau, the one with connections that reached the highest echelons of government—Hotch felt a cold fury settle in his stomach. The man had taken advantage of you, betrayed your trust in the most despicable way, and used his power to silence you.

"He told me... he told me if I said anything, it'd be the end of my career. He's friends with—"

Hotch cut you off, his voice icy, "I don't care who he's friends with."

You flinched at the steel in his voice, and he immediately softened, pulling you into a protective embrace. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. I'm just so, so angry that he did this to you. That I wasn't there to protect you."

Hotch held you close, his mind racing. His instinct was to protect, to avenge, to rectify. But he was also Aaron Hotchner, a man of the law, bound by rules and protocols—even if his heart screamed to break them for your sake.

"We're going to handle this," he whispered into your hair, his voice a steady rumble of contained fury. "I promise you, I won't let him get away with this. No one hurts you and just walks away."

Hotch felt your body tense in his arms, the weight of your emotions palpable against his chest. He held you tighter, a silent promise in the embrace.

"Look at me," he urged gently, tilting your chin up so your eyes met his once again. In them, he saw a storm of hurt, fear, and defiance—a maelstrom that made his own heart clench with an indignant rage he seldom allowed others to see.

"I... I don't want to make this into something big, Aaron. It's... it's embarrassing," you whispered, your voice breaking with the weight of your vulnerability. "And I... I don't want to be seen as a victim. He's too powerful. What if—"

"No," Hotch interrupted firmly, his tone brooking no argument. His gaze was intense, almost piercing, as he spoke with a clarity that cut through the fog of your worries. "You are not a victim. And this... this man has committed a crime. His power doesn't protect him from the law—not from justice. Not as long as I'm here."

You searched his face, looking for the certainty that felt so elusive to you now. Finding it in his eyes, the relentless determination that defined him, a small, fragile sense of security began to weave through your trepidation.

"Aaron, I'm scared," you admitted, the truth sounding stark and raw between you. "I'm scared of the fallout, of what it means for us, for my career..."

Hotch's expression hardened, the lines of his face setting into that familiar mold of resolve that had carried him through countless challenges. "I understand your fear, and it's valid. But you're not alone in this—not now, not ever. We'll do this together and on your terms. We'll take every precaution, use every resource at our disposal. We'll fight this, and we'll win."

The certainty in his voice was more than just comforting—it was a bastion against the doubts that threatened to overwhelm you. Hotch stood, his posture rigid with controlled anger, a testament to his unwavering support.

"And if he thinks he can intimidate or silence you, he doesn't know who he's dealing with. He doesn't know who I am," Hotch added his voice a low growl of protective ferocity. It was the same tone he'd used years ago, a sound born of fury and pain from darker days. It reassured you, reminded you of the strength you had beside you.

You nodded, leaning into him, drawing strength from his presence. "What do we do now?" you asked, the practical part of you ready to take the next steps, no matter how daunting.

"We start by documenting everything. Every interaction you've had with him, anything that can support your case. We'll get statements from anyone who might have noticed anything during your assignment," Hotch planned out loud, his mind already sifting through procedures and protocols. "I'll talk to Strauss personally. We need to make sure this is handled by the book and with the utmost seriousness."

"And then?" Your voice was small, but your eyes were steady, meeting his.

"Then we make sure justice is served," Hotch stated simply. "And we ensure that this never happens to you, or anyone else, ever again."

The resolve in his voice was unwavering, the promise not just of a lover but of a protector, a leader. 

The next day, Hotch’s steps were purposeful as he approached Erin Strauss's office, his jaw set in a firm line, his thoughts a whirlwind of strategy and barely contained anger. This wasn't just another bureaucratic hurdle; it was personal, and the stakes were far higher than usual.

Knocking briskly, Hotch didn't wait for a reply before pushing the door open. Strauss looked up from her desk; her expression schooled into one of cautious neutrality.

"Agent Hotchner, what can I do for you?" Strauss asked, her tone as meticulously controlled as the rest of her demeanor.

"We need to talk about an urgent matter," Hotch began, his voice laced with a severity that made Strauss straighten slightly in her chair.

"It's about the conduct of a high-ranking official in the task force assigned to an agent on my team. There have been serious allegations made against him," Hotch stated bluntly, not one to dance around the subject.

Strauss's eyes narrowed, a flicker of concern passing over her features before she masked it with a bureaucratic calm. "I'm aware of the individual you're referring to," she said slowly. "However, you know as well as I do the complexities involved. He has significant connections, Aaron. This could become a highly volatile situation."

"That doesn't excuse his actions or absolve us of our duty to act," Hotch countered sharply, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. "We have a responsibility to protect our agents and uphold the integrity of the Bureau."

"Aaron," Strauss began, her tone firmer, more authoritative. "I understand your concerns, as well as your….personal connection to this, but we must approach this carefully. Rushing into this could backfire, not just on us but on your agent as well. We risk turning her into the subject of a very public, very messy scandal."

Hotch felt his frustration mount, the protective fury simmering beneath his cool exterior. "With all due respect, Ma'am, I'm not willing to let this go because it's complicated. If we start picking and choosing which battles to fight based on political convenience—"

"This is not about convenience, Agent Hotchner!" Strauss interrupted, her voice rising slightly for the first time. "It's about strategy. It's about ensuring we handle this in a way that ensures justice without causing unnecessary harm. I am not saying we do nothing. I'm saying we need a plan."

Hotch paused, the logical part of his brain recognizing the truth in her words, even as his emotions rebelled against the implication. "I want your assurance, then, that we will pursue this. That it won't be swept under the rug because he's 'connected.'"

"You have my word that we will take appropriate action," Strauss said, her gaze locking with Hotch's. "But I need you to be patient. Give me time to navigate this minefield. I need to talk to the Director, maybe even higher. This isn't just about the Bureau, Aaron. It's bigger than that."

Hotch's expression hardened the lines of his face set in determination. "Time is something I can give, Erin, but silence is not. If we don't see action, I will take this to every authority necessary."

Strauss met his gaze, a silent battle of wills taking place in the quiet tension of the room. Finally, she nodded. "Understood. Let's reconvene in forty-eight hours. I should have more information then."

Hotch nodded curtly, the promise of action the only thing tempering his rage as he left her office. The fight was far from over, and while the bureaucratic wheels turned slowly, his resolve was as swift and unyielding as ever. Justice, he knew, sometimes required more than just good intentions. It needed steadfast, relentless advocacy, and that was something Aaron Hotchner was all too ready to provide.

As Hotch sifted through the case files on his desk, his focus was frequently interrupted by a far more personal concern. The events involving you had left a residual tension that permeated not just his office but his every thought. It was during one of these distracted moments that he heard the familiar knock of Derek Morgan at his door.

"Come in," Hotch called, setting aside the files and steeling himself for the conversation he anticipated was about more than just BAU casework.

Derek stepped in, closing the door behind him with a seriousness that matched the gravity Hotch felt. "Hotch, I've heard about what happened. How's she holding up?" Derek's voice carried a mix of concern and protective anger.

"She's coping, Derek, but it’s far from ideal," Hotch admitted, feeling the weight of his responsibilities as both a unit chief and a partner, “She's strong, but this... this isn't something anyone should have to be strong for--what happened... it’s unacceptable."

Derek's presence was reassuring, a reminder that he wasn't alone in his resolve to address the issue. "We can't just wait for the system to grind forward. What are we doing to make sure she feels safe, not just now but in the future?" Derek asked, his stance resolute.

Leaning back in his chair, Hotch considered the proactive steps they needed to take. "Strauss is handling the investigation, but we need to tighten our own security measures. I’m thinking about revising our late-night protocols and perhaps reintroducing a buddy system."

Derek nodded, folding his arms across his chest. "And maybe we should look into a refresher on self-defense for the team. It's been a while, and it might help give everyone a bit more sense of control," he suggested.

"That’s a good point. I’ll arrange for a workshop. We should also consider implementing more discreet ways for team members to alert security. Fast and effective responses could make a big difference," Hotch said, feeling a strategic plan forming.

"Like panic buttons?" Derek proposed.

"Exactly," Hotch confirmed, his mind already running through logistics and implementations. "I'll ask Garcia to look into integrating something seamless yet powerful."

Derek’s next words struck a chord, emphasizing the culture Hotch always strived to foster within the team. "We need to make a statement, Hotch. Not just with new systems and training, but in how we handle this. We protect our own, not just out there," Derek motioned towards the world beyond their office walls, "but in here, too."

Hotch met Derek’s gaze, a silent acknowledgment of the shared commitment. "I agree completely. Let’s set up a team meeting tomorrow. We’ll discuss these changes openly and ensure everyone knows we’re serious about safeguarding our own."

As Derek left, Hotch turned his attention back to the files before him but with a renewed focus. The safety and well-being of his team, particularly you, now had a clear path forward. With Derek's support and the team's collective effort, Hotch was determined to transform this challenging situation into an opportunity to strengthen the BAU from within. The resolve in his heart was matched by the plans forming in his mind, and he felt ready to lead this crucial initiative.

The wheels of bureaucracy had finally begun to turn, albeit slowly. Hotch could feel a subtle shift in the atmosphere within the Bureau as whispers of the investigation started to circulate among the upper echelons. Strauss had been true to her word so far, initiating discreet inquiries that didn’t draw undue attention yet signaled a clear intent to address the allegations seriously.

However, just as Hotch was beginning to see a glimmer of progress, a new, more immediate crisis erupted. It was late in the evening, and you were at home with Hotch, the two of you trying to enjoy a quiet dinner together to take your minds off the ongoing turmoil. Your phone buzzed with the arrival of an email, and the change in your demeanor was immediate and alarming.

“What is it?” Hotch asked, noting the sudden pallor that washed over your face as you stared at your screen.

“It’s him,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. “He’s... he’s threatening me, Aaron.”

The words hit Hotch like a physical blow. His jaw clenched, and his eyes hardened with a fury that had been simmering just below the surface, now brought to a boiling point by this new provocation. He took the phone from your hands; his movements controlled but brisk, and read the email himself.

The message was succinct, laced with venom and arrogance. The man threatened to ruin your reputation, to make sure you would never work in law enforcement again if you continued to "drag his name through the mud." The audacity of the threat, the blatant attempt to intimidate and silence you, ignited a fierce protectiveness in Hotch.

“This ends now,” Hotch said, his voice low and dangerous. He stood abruptly, his chair scraping against the floor with a sharp screech. “I won’t let him get away with this.”

You reached out, touching his arm. “Aaron, what are you going to do?”

“I’m going to make sure he understands the consequences of threatening an FBI agent,” Hotch replied, his tone leaving no room for doubt about his intentions. “He thinks he can intimidate us into silence, but he’s gravely mistaken.”

Hotch’s first call was to Strauss, informing her of the new development. His words were clipped, his anger barely contained as he explained the situation.

“Erin, he sent a threatening email. He’s trying to intimidate her into dropping the charges. This is witness tampering, and it’s unacceptable. We need to act, and we need to act now,” Hotch insisted, his demeanor unyielding.

“We will start with securing a formal censure against him. I’ll also alert the Director immediately. This is serious, Aaron, and we’ll treat it as such,” Strauss responded, her voice reflecting a new urgency.

Satisfied that the Bureau was finally mobilizing with the necessary aggression, Hotch turned his attention back to you. He could see the fear and uncertainty that the email had sparked, and he knew he had to be the rock you could lean on.

“Listen to me,” he said, taking your hands in his. “I promise you, I won’t let anything happen to you. We’re in this together, and we’re going to see it through. No one threatens you and gets away with it. Not on my watch.”

As Hotch spoke, his assurance, his unwavering support, you felt a flicker of hope. Despite the darkness of the situation, with Hotch by your side, you believed that, somehow, everything might still turn out right.

Aaron Hotchner had settled into the kind of focus that came with years of late nights and urgent cases. The dim light from his desk lamp cast long shadows across the paperwork in front of him, the numbers and details blurring into a singular narrative of crime and consequence. He was deeply immersed in a complex profile, one that needed to be finished before morning, when a faint noise caused him to look up. It was a sound out of place in the quiet of the late evening, a soft shuffling, a hesitant step.

The sight that greeted him was one he was wholly unprepared for. You were leaning heavily against the doorframe, your face visibly battered and bruised, your clothing disheveled as if from a scuffle. There was a black eye forming, swelling under the stark fluorescent light, and blood was trickling from a cut on your lip, dripping onto your collar.

For a moment, Hotch froze, his brain trying to process the scene before him. His files, his profile, the pen still poised in his hand—all of it faded into irrelevance as a surge of protective anger rose within him. He was on his feet in an instant, his chair pushed back with such force it nearly toppled.

“What did he do?!” The words burst from him, laden with fury and concern as he closed the distance between you and him in a few long strides. His hands hovered just inches from you, itching to reach out, to confirm you were real and standing there, yet hesitating out of fear of hurting you further.

Your appearance was a stark, visual slap to his system, igniting a rage in Hotch that was pure and lethal, a reminder of the days when he'd hunted the most dangerous criminals. His mind raced with the implications of your injuries—how it had happened, where, and most importantly, who was responsible.

Seeing you in such a state, so vulnerable yet defiant, was more than just a call to action. It was a personal affront, a challenge to everything he stood for, both as the unit chief of the BAU and as the man who loved you. Your safety had been compromised under his watch, and the violation of that trust was something he took as a personal failure.

“Who did this?” His voice was a low growl now, demanding an answer, needing to know whom to direct his burgeoning wrath towards. The protective barrier he always maintained—the one that kept his professional judgment clear of emotional interference—was crumbling fast, chipped away by each drop of blood he saw staining your skin.

Your response was shaky but filled with a fire that spoke volumes of your resilience. “It was him. In the locker room,” you managed to say, your voice a testament to both the physical pain you endured and the psychological battle you were fighting. “There are no cameras there. He knew that.”

Hotch’s jaw tightened, his eyes hardening with resolute anger. You had defended yourself, survived, and prevailed, yet the cost was written all over your face, and it was a price too steep for him to bear without retribution.

“We’re going to Strauss now,” he stated unequivocally, the protective fervor in his voice leaving no room for negotiation. “He won’t get away with this. Not now, not ever.”

He quickly grabbed a first aid kit, gently tending to your wounds with a steadiness in his hands that belied the storm of emotions inside him. Once he was sure you were stable, he offered you his arm, ready to accompany you to Strauss’s office. The walk there was tense, each step heavy with the weight of the incident and its implications.

Upon reaching Strauss’s office, Hotch knocked firmly, not waiting for an invitation to enter. Strauss looked up, her expression turning from surprise to alarm at the sight of your condition.

“Aaron, what happened?” Strauss stood immediately, her eyes wide as they took in the visible marks of the attack on you.

“She was attacked by him, in the gym locker room. There are no cameras there. It was premeditated,” Hotch explained, his voice controlled but the underlying fury unmistakable. “She defended herself and subdued him. He’s still there, unconscious and handcuffed.”

Strauss’s face hardened, her eyes now reflecting a mix of anger and determination. “I’ll call security, have them take him into custody and ensure he’s watched until he can be formally charged. This is attempted assault on a federal agent, at the very least. We’ll push for the maximum charges.”

You nodded, leaning slightly on Hotch for support, both physically and emotionally. “Thank you, Strauss. I... I defended myself, but I want this to be handled by the book. We need to make sure he never has the opportunity to hurt anyone else.”

Strauss moved around her desk, reaching out to gently touch your shoulder. “You did good, and I’m sorry this happened under our watch. We’ll take care of it from here. And you,” she looked at Hotch, “make sure she gets to a hospital, and then take some time off. Both of you. You need to recover from this.”

Hotch nodded, his protective instincts fully engaged as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders, guiding you out of the office. The rage still simmered within him, a fierce protectiveness that would not soon abate. But alongside it was a profound respect for your strength and resilience and a renewed commitment to stand by you, no matter what lay ahead.

That night, the world outside seemed distant, almost irrelevant as you and Aaron Hotchner returned to the sanctuary of your home. The hospital visit had been thorough but exhausting, leaving both of you drained yet relieved that nothing was critically amiss. Now, in the quiet comfort of your bathroom, Hotch took on the role of caretaker with a gentleness that made your heart swell despite the pain.

You sat on the closed lid of the toilet, watching him gather supplies—antiseptic, cotton pads, and some fresh bandages. The care with which he handled each item, his movements deliberate and focused, was a quiet testament to his concern for you. As he turned to you, his expression softened, his eyes meeting yours with an unspoken promise of tenderness.

"Let's get this cleaned up," he murmured, wetting a cotton pad with antiseptic. His touch was feather-light as he dabbed at the cut on your lip, the one that had stopped bleeding but still throbbed with every movement. You flinched slightly, not from pain, but from the intimacy of the gesture, the proximity in a moment filled with so much vulnerability.

"I'm sorry you had to go through this," Hotch said quietly, the weight of his emotions making his voice thick and unusually expressive. He paused, his hands steady as he tended to your wounds, but his heart was anything but calm. "I should have—"

The words trailed off as a tide of frustration and guilt surged within him. Hotch despised the feeling of helplessness, the gnawing thought that he might have prevented your pain had he anticipated the threat more effectively. It was a violation of his deepest principles, both as a protector and a partner, to see you hurt and know he had not been there to prevent it.

He gazed at your face, noting the bruises that marred your skin, each one a stark reminder of the violence you endured. It pained him to see these tangible signs of trauma on someone he cared deeply about. The instinct to shield you from harm was ingrained in his very nature, honed through years of leading a team that faced danger daily. Yet here, in the quiet of your shared space, the reality that you had faced such danger alone was a bitter pill to swallow.

As Hotch looked into your eyes, seeing the trust and understanding there despite the shadows of the recent ordeal, he felt a renewed surge of resolve. His role was not just to protect but to support and ensure such a breach never occurred again. This incident, while closed legally, would prompt him to reevaluate his own vigilance. The emotional undercurrent of this moment, the blend of regret and protective fervor, was a powerful catalyst for Hotch. It reinforced the essential truth that his duty to protect you extended beyond the physical; it was emotional, a bond forged in mutual respect and shared trials.

The silence that followed his unfinished apology was filled with a heavy understanding. He knew you didn’t blame him—you had faced the situation with incredible resilience. But he held himself to a standard that was often unrelenting. Hotch needed to articulate this, not just for you to hear, but for him to acknowledge it openly.

“You shouldn’t have had to handle this alone,” he continued, his voice firmer, reflecting his internal commitment. “I’m here, and I will do everything in my power to ensure you never feel that isolated again. We’ll increase security protocols, and I’ll personally review them.”

His promise was not just words; it was a vow, a pledge of his ongoing commitment to your safety and well-being. Hotch knew that recovery from such events wasn’t just about physical healing—it was about restoring a sense of security and normalcy. He was prepared to lead that effort, standing by you as both your staunchest ally and your devoted partner.

"Don't," you interrupted gently, placing a hand over his. "Don't do that to yourself. You couldn’t have known. And you were there when it mattered. You’ve always been."

He looked at you, really looked, as if seeing you anew, and nodded slowly. "It's over now," he reassured you and himself more than anyone. "He's in custody, and he's not getting out anytime soon. Strauss is making sure of it."

You nodded, feeling the weight of the past weeks begin to lift ever so slightly. "It’s hard to believe it’s over," you admitted, allowing yourself to lean into his care, into the promise of safety his presence provided.

"It is, though. And we're going to make sure you're safe, that this never happens again," Hotch said, his voice firm with conviction. He finished bandaging a smaller scrape on your cheek, his fingers lingering a moment longer than necessary, as if to impart comfort through his touch.

You reached up, your hand brushing against his. "Thank you, Aaron. For everything. I don’t know how I would have handled all this without you."

Hotch’s hand covered yours, his grip warm and reassuring. "You're not alone in this. You’ll never be," he said, his gaze holding yours. "We’re in this together, remember?"

As you nodded, a silence fell between you, comfortable and healing. It was the kind of silence that spoke of shared struggles and mutual support, of battles fought and won together. Hotch finally stood, helping you to your feet.

"Let’s get some rest," he suggested, his tone lightening a bit as he led you toward the bedroom. "You need to heal, and I need to make sure you stop finding trouble," he added, a hint of humor glimmering through the residual tension of the day.

You chuckled softly, leaning against him as you walked. "Deal," you replied, knowing that whatever the future held, you faced it not alone but together, stronger and more united than ever.

Tag List:

@zaddyhotch

@estragos

@todorokishoe24

@looking1016

@khxna

@rousethemouse

@averyhotchner

@reidfile

@bernelflo

@lover-of-books-and-tea

@frickin-bats

@sleepysongbirdsings

@justyourusualash

@person-005

@iyskgd

[navybrat817]

How often does Dad!Bucky get hit on when he's in the baby aisle grabbing diapers?

A lot, Cia! And you get to see it one day.

The Dad Diaries: Diaper Aisle

Pairing: Dad!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: You witness a woman flirting with Bucky, but you don't react the way you expect. Word Count: Almost 1.2k Warnings: Fluff, flirting, reflecting, first time dad, slight feels (it's me), parenthood, random woman thirsty for Bucky (we get it), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning and a dad, okay?). A/N: Next part of The Dad Diaries and from your perspective. Hope you lovelies enjoy. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky doesn’t like to make a big deal out of people flirting with him. For starters, he’s a married man and has made it clear that he has no intention of ever stepping out on you. He would never. You are his wife and soulmate, the love of his life, and the mother of his child. You’re all he needs.

Second, he’s unassuming. You tell him regularly how handsome he is, but he isn’t arrogant about his looks and doesn’t think every woman who looks his way has the intention of hitting on him. He may give a polite smile or nod if he catches someone staring, but will immediately divert his attention back to the task at hand, such as getting those diapers for Jamie.

Fatherhood is sexy on him.

“Your Dada is amazing,” you say to Jamie as you wait beside your cart for Bucky to grab the box.

You smile to yourself when a woman nearly runs her cart into the shelving when Bucky walks past. Not that you blame her for staring. With his luscious locks flowing free, his worn jean jacket fitting like it was made for him, and the sweatpants leaving little to the imagination, you would’ve gawked at him, too.

Which you did earlier and were now.

“Excuse me,” the woman calls out loudly, making Bucky pause as he puts the box under his arm. “So sorry to bother you, but would you mind grabbing a jar for me off the top shelf? I would really appreciate it.”

“No problem,” he says, giving you a small smile from across the aisle as he goes to help the woman.

You wait patiently as the lady thanks him with a grin. You get why she wants Bucky close by. Beyond his overall gorgeousness and kindness, he displays a responsible side of himself when he walks through the baby aisle. He never carries himself in a way that says he’s annoyed or inconvenienced by being there. Carefully selecting the diapers and anything else needed shows how attentive he is. And responsible.

You understand the appeal.

Though, you do wish the lady would stop undressing your husband with her eyes. You practically hear her inhale when he’s close enough. He does smell good, but does she have to step into his space?

“This one?” Bucky asks.

The woman has to blink a few times before she responds. “Oh, sorry. The one next to it. You really are too kind,” she answers, sweeping her gaze over him from head to toe as he reaches over for another jar. You have to bite the inside of your cheek when she takes it from his hand. “It’s too bad you can’t help me bring this stuff in when I get home.”

Yeah, it is too bad.

Clearing his throat, Bucky nods in your direction. “Well, my son might miss me if I’m away for too long. And I’ll miss him and my wife.”

The woman goes rigid as she looks your way. “Your wife?”

Bucky smiles from ear to ear when you wave. “Yeah, my wife,” he proudly states, making your heart skip a beat.

Any jealousy or bad feeling you have slips away when you see some of the light leave the woman’s eyes and the sag in her shoulders. It’s almost like seeing her in a different light because you know how you’ve felt since giving birth. At times, you feel less attractive than normal, that your body won’t be the way it used to be. You wonder if Bucky still wants you.

And you want to be seen.

While you don’t know her story, you understand the need to feel wanted and desired. It doesn’t go away when you become a mother. You don’t even know if she is a mother or if she’s in the aisle shopping for a sister, friend, or someone else. Maybe her partner isn’t giving her the attention she needs. Maybe she isn’t with anyone.

Maybe she just needed a win today.

“Take care,” Bucky says politely before he walks toward you, leaving the woman alone to stare after him. “Anything else we need?” He asks once he puts the diapers on the bottom of the cart, giving Jamie a small tickle and making all three of you smile.

“I think we’re good,” you say, glancing down the aisle. You could grab Bucky’s hand and stake your claim as the woman makes eye contact with you, but you give her a small nod and a sympathetic smile instead before you push the cart away. “That was nice of you to help her,” you say once you’re out of sight.

Bucky raises an eyebrow as he glances your way. “I don’t usually say this outright, but I’m pretty sure she was hitting on me.”

“Oh, she was,” you agree.

“Does that bother you?” He asks, brushing a kiss to your temple and making your heart race.

You shake your head as you think about it. “It did at first because it’s only natural to feel that way, but it went away pretty quickly. I have no reason to feel jealous or defensive. If it would’ve been bad or crossed a line, I would’ve stepped in. But you proudly proclaimed that I’m your wife and she backed off right away. And I know you’re coming home with Jamie and I, so why would I let it bother me?” you explain, spotting something soft in his gaze.

Like he’s amazed by you.

“That makes sense,” he says.

“I can only hope that someone like you comes along for her,” you add, your heart going out to the stranger.

The blue of Bucky’s eyes shine a bit brighter when you catch his gaze. “I love you,” he says so tenderly that you feel butterflies in your stomach and heart.

“I love you, too,” you promise before you nudge him. “And you know what? I don’t fault her at all. You know what wearing those pants does to people. It’s like some sort of sexy magic.”

His nose crinkles as he laughs, the sound making a few turn their heads. Once again, you don’t blame them for gawking. “Did you just say ‘sexy magic’ in front of our son? Is that why you like these pants?”

“Oh, yeah. You put a spell on me,” you smirk before you smile gently at your son. “And I’m very lucky for that because now I have you.”

You don’t know it yet, but Bucky will write in his diary to Jamie about how you handled yourself today. How you could’ve stormed over and grabbed him or made a snide comment to the woman, but you didn’t. And that if you felt jealous, even for a moment, you didn’t let it cloud your judgement. You know when to observe and when you need to step in. You know when to lead with your heart.

Just one of the many reasons Bucky Barnes considers himself lucky to call you his wife and the mother of his child.

And no matter how many times he gets hit on in the diaper aisle, he’ll always come home to you.

I adore this family. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[mead-iocre]

A Girl Just Wants To Be Spoilt | Leah Williamson x Reader

synopsis: just leah handing over her gold amex card. yep.

warnings: none :)

wc: 860 words

“This is such a waste of time” You hear your girlfriend mutter to herself from behind you, but you pay her no mind. You were far too interested in choosing which lip gloss to get. Leah and you were currently in Sephora because she had to go shopping for a new outfit for an event she is invited to attend later that week. After a quick lunch, you all but dragged your reluctant girlfriend into the beauty store. 

Leah didn’t mind makeup, and lately with the media and events that she had to do, she was almost used to sitting in a makeup chair and having a makeup artist work on her face. However, outside of the events, Leah kept her face bare and makeup-free. You, on the other hand, were makeup obsessed. You spent an hour longer than your girlfriend when it came to getting ready in the morning because you had an entire skincare and makeup routine. 

“Oi! Quit it!” You playfully slap your girlfriend’s hand away when you see her reach for the open samples of eyeshadow palettes. Knowing how bored your girlfriend was getting, she was probably going to try some shit like wipe the eyeshadow on your arm or something. The blonde pouts, but follows dutifully behind you when you move over to the other section. 

“Oh this one’s quite nice” Untwisting the lipgloss sample, you glance the back of your hand only to frown when you see that there is no space to swatch the product. Checking the other hand, you see it’s already full of other lipstick and lipgloss swatches too. 

You were just about to put the lipstick down when your girlfriend practically thrusts her own hand out in front of you. “Use mine”

“Thanks, baby” Giving her a sweet smile and a kiss on the corner of her lips, you happily swipe the lipgloss wand on the back of her hand. You tilt your head, inspecting the colour before you shake your head. “That’s a nice colour…but would I wear it often?” You mutter more to yourself.

Turning back to the wide selection of lipglosses, you pick up another tube only to swatch the sample on the back of the blonde’s hand again. Leah rolls her eyes. “what, am I just your personal tester now?”

You turn to your girlfriend, patting her cheek lightly before kissing her right on her pouty lips. “you did offer, baby.”

Leah rolls her eyes at you but you can see a smile forming. “Whatever. Make it quick”

“Which one should I get, Lee?” You hold up two lipglosses. Instead of an answer, Leah only looks at you with one sharp eyebrow raised. “Is that a trick question?”

Your eyebrows furrow. “What is?”

Your girlfriend gestures to the lipglosses in your hands. “They’re the same fucking colour, darling”

You wave the two very different colours of lipglosses in the air. “They are not– this one’s more peachy and this one is more pink. Now pick one for me, please! I only want to get one since it’s so bloody expensive”

The blonde groans, and runs a palm down the side of her face like this is the most tedious task in the entire world as if she doesn’t chase a ball for a living. 

Before you could say another word, Leah grabs both of the clearly different lipglosses from your hand and then turns to the selection of lip products on display. She grabs a few more of the tubes in different shades, chucking them in the basket without even a second glance, and then makes a beeline straight to the checkout counters.

You jog to catch up to her, just as she greets the lady at the counter. “Lee, I only wanted to get just one–” You reach into the basket, intending to pull out the other twenty products that weren’t the ones you came into Sephora to buy.

But Leah grabs your hand, halting your actions. She brings out her wallet from her back pocket. "Nothing to worry your pretty little head about, baby. I've got it– and since I'm paying, we’ll take it all” She smiles at the lady at checkout, nodding at her to continue scanning what was probably the ninth lip product by now. 

You didn’t even want to glance at the screen as it totals your purchases– it was probably close to half of your monthly rent.��You suddenly found the floor much more interesting.

“…the lady needs your card, darling”

Your head snaps up. You stare at your girlfriend, eyes wide in bewilderment. Did her shiny gold amex card ayment not go through? Is she making you pay for— a quick glance at the screen— £400+ worth of lip products? Is she playing some sick joke by making you pay for it after realising she doesn’t want to spend four hundred pounds on lip products that weren’t even for her—?

but it’s as if your girlfriend can read your mind, because all she does is chuckle and pull you close with an arm around your waist. Leah leans in right by your ear and whispers “your Sephora rewards card, baby. wouldn’t want those points to go to waste”

(also i might’ve changed ending after posting lol so if you read the OG ending, lucky you but shhhh!)

bro leah in a suit lately got me feeling some type of way. she's definitely the type to spoil her partner in every way thanks to that dyson headphones check 💰

might start doing these shorter blurbs more often :))

-- kisses, butter.

*This work is my original creation. Please don’t copy, share, or translate it without asking for my permission first. Thanks for respecting that!

[sanguinesky-if]

Sanguine Sky

DEMO [Public] [Updated 07/12/2024] genres: romance, modern-fantasy, supernatural, mystery, dark-fantasy.

Sanguine Sky is a work-in-progress modern dark-fantasy interactive novel. The story is heavily focused on romance, characters, and relationships.

The story rated 18+, contains mature and distressing content that may be triggering to certain individuals. It is recommend to check the full list of warnings before you proceed to the story. Please exercise caution and take care of yourself.

Total word count: 197k words [excl. code] | 227k words [incl. code].

You are a detective, tasked with investigating mysterious murders that have taken place in your normally quiet and peaceful hometown, Fallenmor. 

With two victims confirmed already, the initial one being your former mentor, Detective Bergmann, the situation couldn't seem more dire. Or so you thought until you received the news of another body, a possible third victim, discovered at the police station. In your very own office. 

An accident, a mere coincidence, a straightforward warning, a looming threat, or something entirely else… Whatever is happening, you feel it affecting you, awakening something both significantly familiar and distinctly foreign inside of you.

If only you knew that this was just the beginning… Things could have been different. 

But back then, in your ignorance, your singular concern lay with a pressing question: if you failed to find the murderer, who would become the next victim?

➤ Play as male, female, non-binary or trans; straight, gay, or bisexual.

➤ Customize your appearance and shape your personality.

➤ Take on the role of a detective, immerse yourself in the work of the police station.

➤ Embrace the mystery of your existence, or reject that inner sight of you.

➤ Seven romance options to choose from. Select their gender, be shy or bold, or focus on your goal without pursuing anyone.

All ROs are player-sexual and gender-selectable [M/F].

Kyle / Keira Moreno

Your colleague, a police inspector, and one of the rudest people you have ever met. Sharp and stern, K is surprisingly perceptive, and they use it to really see you. The good, the bad. Everything. Appearance: icy blue eyes, dark red hair, very pale skin.

Alexis 'Lex / Lexie' Conlan

Your best friend, and also your former partner from times when you were just a patrol officer. With a heart of gold and an approachable attitude, L always chooses you over the others. Appearance: forest green eyes, copper hair, beige freckled skin.

Morgan Schoivell

Your other colleague, a highly-skilled lab technician. M is rather reserved when it comes to emotions, and after almost a year of working together, M is still a walking mystery for you. Appearance: dark brown eyes, ash blond hair, light skin.

Roderick / Rebecca Reyes

The commanding agent of the Criminal Investigative Division (CID) team sent to catch the killer. Overbearing and ruthless, R has their own way of getting things done. Appearance: gray eyes, blond hair, pale skin.

Theodore 'Theo' / Theresa 'Tess' Vazquez

Another member of the CID team. With a cocky smile, T is full of flirts and sneering comments, regardless of the occasion. T has no doubts about what they want and isn't afraid to vocalize it. Appearance: dark green eyes, black curly hair, rich brown skin.

Isaac / Iris Brailsford

I looks the most mature and approachable of CID's fellow agents. Looks can be deceiving, though. Working behind the scene and watching from afar, I carries all the scars within. Appearance: hazel eyes, dark brown hair, olive skin.

Sebastian / Selena Goldstein

Someone new and temporary, S has a velvety voice and a perfect smile that doesn't reach their eyes. You're not sure if your paths will cross in the future, but something tells you S can't be trusted. Appearance: black eyes, long black wavy hair, bronze skin.

Other notable characters:

Your twin-sister: Your sweet, kind, caring, and gentle twin sister. She always tries to be there for you, and show how much she appreciates you, no matter what. Chief of Police, Kendrick Nash: Your boss, who is not handling his job so well after the recent death of his husband, Klemens Bergmann. Detective Klemens Bergmann: Police chief's husband, who happened to be a senior detective and your mentor. He was the first victim, murdered under mysterious circumstances.

A full list of warnings is available in the demo before beginning of the story. I recommend to check it before you proceed to reading.

Links: DEMO | CoG Forum | Q&A | Romance | Tags & Links | Patreon | Ko-Fi | Error Reports |

Thank you for your interest ♥

[nayziiz]

Comfort Person | LN4

Pairing: Lando Norris x reader (she/her)

Author's note: I'm trying something a little bit different with shorter form fics, so please send through any requests or feedback. These one shots will likely not have a second part unless it really speaks to me to continue with it. Thank you!

Masterlist

Attending the McLaren gala marked a significant step forward in their relationship. For a whole year, they had carefully cultivated their love away from the prying eyes of the public, choosing to keep their affection shielded from the spotlight. Their social media presence, though scant, hinted at a deeper connection, evident through the occasional birthday mentions and celebratory nods to his triumphs on the racetrack.

But this gala was different. It was a statement, a declaration of their commitment, and a subtle unveiling of their love to the world. While their relationship had been an open secret among close friends and those within the inner circle of the Formula 1 world, this event would bring it to a broader audience.

For her, agreeing to attend the gala was both exciting and nerve-wracking. Stepping into the glamorous world of Formula 1, filled with its high-profile personalities and dazzling events, was a departure from her usual realm. She had only dipped her toes into this world on three occasions, each time experiencing the thrill of the races in Monaco, Belgium, and Silverstone. Yet, despite her limited exposure to the paddock, she found herself drawn to the adrenaline-fueled atmosphere and the magnetic pull of his passion for the sport.

Her demanding career imposed limitations on her ability to accompany him to every race and event, forcing her to carefully select which ones she could attend. Despite the constraints of her professional obligations, she was determined to be there for him in whatever capacity she could manage.

For him, her unwavering support transcended physical presence. Knowing that she would wake up in the early hours of the morning or stay up late into the night to watch his races brought him immense comfort and strength. Her dedication, even from afar, served as a source of motivation during the most gruelling moments on the track.

In the midst of the frenetic pace of the Formula 1 season, her steadfast encouragement provided him with a sense of grounding and reassurance. Whether she was cheering him on from the stands or sending him words of encouragement through late-night texts, her presence loomed large in his heart and mind.

Their relationship was built on a foundation of understanding and compromise, with each of them making sacrifices to support the other's dreams and aspirations. While her absence at certain events weighed heavily on her, she took solace in the knowledge that her love and support transcended geographical boundaries.

The day was a canvas of intimacy, each moment painted with tenderness and shared anticipation. As they lingered in her apartment, the world outside faded into insignificance, leaving only the two of them enveloped in a cocoon of affection.

Showering together was a dance of intimacy, the warm water cascading over their bodies like a gentle caress. He tenderly washed her hair, his fingers massaging her scalp with care and devotion. In that shared moment of vulnerability, their connection deepened, each touch speaking volumes of their love for one another.

As she dried her hair, she watched him with a soft smile as he meticulously shaved away the stray stubble, his concentration mirrored in the steady strokes of his razor. Even the simplest of tasks became moments to be savoured in each other's presence, the ordinary transformed into something extraordinary by the power of their love.

For him, the mundane rituals of getting ready took on new significance with her by his side. Every glance exchanged, every shared laugh, was a reminder of the profound joy he felt in having her as his partner. Her presence infused even the simplest moments with an electric energy, sparking excitement in his heart and a smile on his lips.

As he stood poised with the razor in hand, ready to rid himself of the faint traces of stubble that adorned his face, she intervened, her voice soft but determined.

“No, leave it. It looks hot, my love,” she said, her gaze lingering on him with an intensity that sent a shiver down his spine. He paused, caught off guard by her unexpected request.

“But I thought you hated facial hair,” he replied, a hint of confusion tingling his words. A playful smile curved her lips as she stepped closer, her fingers tracing the outline of his jaw. 

“I've grown to love it because it's on you,” she confessed, her eyes sparkling with affection. He couldn't help but chuckle at her response, his heart swelling with warmth at her words.

“You're special, you know that,” he murmured, his voice laced with genuine admiration.

“Uh, huh. That's why you keep me around,” A mischievous glint danced in her eyes as she teased him. He pulled her into his arms, unable to resist the urge to shower her with kisses. 

Lando couldn't help but chuckle as he left her in the bathroom to put the finishing touches on her makeup. With a playful grin, he made his way to the kitchen to retrieve some snacks before the event.

After a few minutes, he heard the soft tapping of her heels against the hardwood floors, signalling her emergence from the bedroom. He turned, almost instinctively, his curiosity piqued by the sound of her approach.

His breath caught in his throat as she sauntered past him, the fabric of her dark orange dress flowing around her like molten lava, casting a mesmerising glow in the dim light of the apartment. She looked radiant, her beauty captivating him in a way that never failed to leave him breathless.

As she disappeared into the kitchen, he couldn't tear his gaze away, his jaw dropping slightly in awe. She was stunning, more breathtaking than he had ever seen her before.

When she finally turned to face him, their eyes locked in an unspoken exchange of admiration and affection. In that moment, words seemed unnecessary as the intensity of their connection spoke volumes, filling the space between them with an electric energy that crackled with anticipation.

“Are you just going to sit there and gawk at me?” She asked, her tone light but teasing.

“Yes,” he replied without missing a beat, his gaze lingering on her with unapologetic admiration. A mock scowl crossed her features as she shook her head, a hint of laughter dancing in her eyes.

“Well, stop it. You look stupid. Go put on your suit before we're late,” she instructed, her voice tinged with playful admonishment.

After dutifully adhering to her request and donning his suit, Lando returned to the kitchen to find her engrossed in replying to a few messages. With a tender smile, he approached her from behind, his footsteps silent against the floor.

Wrapping his arms around her waist, he pressed a gentle kiss to her neck, the warmth of his lips sending a shiver down her spine. She leaned back into his embrace, a contented sigh escaping her lips as she tilted her head to the side, allowing him better access.

In that moment, the world outside faded away, leaving only the two of them cocooned in a bubble of affection. His touch was a soothing balm against the chaos of the day, grounding her in the present and reminding her of the love they shared. As he lingered against her, his arms holding her close, she felt a sense of peace wash over her. In his embrace, she found solace and reassurance

“I can't wait to do this with you for the rest of my life,” Lando whispered, his voice filled with sincerity as he gazed into her eyes. A soft smile graced her lips as she met his gaze, her heart swelling with love for him.

“Me too,” she replied, her voice barely above a whisper but resounding with a depth of emotion that echoed his own.

In that fleeting moment, the weight of their words hung in the air, binding them together in a promise of forever. It was a declaration of their love, a pledge to stand by each other through every twist and turn that life may bring.

[for-ests]

Hi! This is a request for sukuna x concubine! reader, sorry if it's a bit all over the place - it's just a silly idea jdjsjajsk

Sukuna calls a shy concubine for the first time. She's nervous, but upon entering his chambers, a book about astronomy catches her eye (since he has many books and scrolls). He notices her interest and is intrigued, perhaps because his concubines are raised to have no interests other than pleasing Sukuna

tysm for the request ^^ im not sure if u wanted this to be NSFW or not, but I wanted to attempt Sukuna fluff. (never thought I would say that) but, I hope you enjoy! (I am so not used to writing a shy reader or something this short so bear with me) <3 requests are still open! wc: 1.5k warnings: none!

The first time Sukuna called you to his chambers should have excited you beyond belief, but instead, it made you incredibly nervous. 

You were adorned in your best Kimono, perfectly painted makeup, and hair styled to accentuate your alluring features. You felt beautiful, and you knew you looked the part. Hours had been spent on your appearance the second your servant caught wind of Sukuna’s request. 

And now that you were standing at his door, your heart was pounding. You knew your purpose; you knew your place. But what if you failed to please your master? Instinctively, you shied away from his advances, opting to serve him in other ways. Surprisingly, there were many tasks and chores to complete daily as a concubine, which you weren’t aware of before Sukuna selected you among the other noble women from your faction. 

This was the first time you would be utterly alone with the King of Curses, and it made your stomach twist into knots. 

“You requested me, Sukuna-Sama?” you squeaked, already blushing from the intensity of his gaze. 

A long silence stretched between you, but all he did was stare, taking in all you had to offer. 

“I realized I still have yet to spend a night alone with you, “ he finally replied. 

Sukuna loathed the meek. You seemed to be the only woman he bothered to tolerate, and he didn’t know why. If anything, it just made you cute because he knew you weren’t dumb. You followed your orders, you served him with grace, and the way you danced was unlike the rest. On the stage, you were a completely different woman. 

But off the stage, you were as shy as they came. 

His eyes were ravenous as he watched you approach his bookshelf. Despite his own desires and your intended purpose, something about you intrigued him—notably, that curious glint in your eyes with the desperation to discover more. 

“I was not aware you kept so many records." Your voice was almost a whisper, partly out of respect and awe.

“Taken from my conquests.” 

“As expected,” you replied somewhat meekly, eyes drifting back to the wall of books and scrolls. One in particular caught your eyes, the binding resembling a constellation you were familiar with. 

Hesitantly, you glanced at him, waiting for permission to tug the book from its rightful place amongst the rest. 

Sukuna nodded, sighing deeply before leaning back into the corner of his room, legs, and arms crossed as he watched you explore. 

The intended cushion for you still remained empty. You could feel it, and Sukuna's bloodlust calling for you to at least join him. With the book in your hand, flipping the first page, you gave in and sat across from him, knees perfectly tucked in like you were taught from a young age. 

The book lay halfway open on the floor between the two of you. And finally, you gained the courage to meet his eyes, pleading for permission. 

“Astrology?” The King of Curses bemused, reaching for a sip of his sake. If that’s what you wanted, he would grant it. There was no harm in having his concubines be somewhat knowledgable about something, despite what other kings and lords agreed, despite what they claimed about him. 

There was a reason why he had so many women flocking to him despite his appearance and dominance. They actually enjoyed his protection and offerings. It was the best place in the country for a curious woman like you to explore and indulge. As long as you excited him, of course. But, he enjoyed the variety, and you undoubtedly provided him with that. 

“Can you read?” he asked from your silence and timid glances. You were so incredibly meek it astonished him, so much so he couldn’t tell if you were waiting for permission or for him to explain the words to you. 

“Yes, my Lord.” You bowed your head slightly, managing to peek at him through your eyelashes. 

“Finish it,” he paused as if he couldn’t believe the words coming out of his mouth. “And it’s yours.” 

There was no way to stop the way your mouth dropped open. The surprise was evident in how your eyes widened, your loss for words, and the sudden bashfulness that etched into your expression. 

“Do wish for my body in exchan—”

“No,” Sukuna interrupted, exhaling as if he anticipated your question. “Despite any rumors you may have heard, I’m not fond of forcing a woman to be with me.” 

You could not hide your astonishment. It was like you could feel your timidity fading away into the nighttime breeze that wafted through the door to his private garden. 

“It bores me," he sighed. “If you’re not ready, that is fine.” 

“My Lord,” you rushed, the honorific rolling off your tongue with a hint of approval and submission you didn’t expect to find tonight. The surprise of it all made you lose your train of thought and all your responses to it. 

“Out with it,” he rolled his eyes. 

You chose your words carefully this time, unable to look at him until after your sentence was finished. “Are you claiming that aquiring knowledge is more important than sex?” 

“I never said that,” he replied quickly but smirked. “If you wish, you can visit me to read instead, until you are ready for more.” 

Sukuna didn’t need to dominate his concubines every single night. A companion would be appreciated for the days he wished for peace and quiet—which was rare but still happened occasionally. The way you danced was enough to entertain him. And there were plenty of other women who could satiate his hunger differently. 

For your own comfort, along with his amusement, he felt an introductory offer was needed. Of course, he wanted you; he wanted everything about you and your submission. But what Sukuna learned over the years was very important—it wasn’t just about his pleasure. He could easily kill you, and he knew it, but the human part of him also wanted you to crave him in the same way. 

And if that took granting you access to his literature, so be it.

Biting your lip, you reached for the sake bottle and filled his empty glass as a thank you. You were there to serve him, and it was comical how miserably you failed to provide him the requested service. But there was no use in denying how excited you were. The last thing you expected was this. It wasn’t just permission he gave you; it was respect. Even in its slightest form, it was enough. 

“Once you learn about the stars, you must teach them to me.” 

Once he took his first satisfactory sip, you replied, “Do you not know the stars, Sukuna-Sama?” 

His boisterous chuckle surprised you and made you flinch in surprise. You couldn’t recall a moment where he had ever laughed, let alone smirk devilishly so. But perhaps he reserved this side of him for late-night discussions. The thought of him teasing you hardly mattered; what mattered was that he was listening to you. 

“Of course I do, concubine.” Sukuna took another sip. “But I wouldn’t mind testing you for my enjoyment.” 

“That only makes me want to study more.” 

“Good. For every question you get wrong, I get to claim a piece of you.” 

The most vigorous flush of emotions you’d ever felt rushed through you, appearing on your cheeks despite how your face was painted with makeup. Any attempt to mask was futile. It may be beneficial to just be yourself, as he already seemed tolerant enough. 

“I would appreciate that.” 

Sukuna laughed again, watching as your body relaxed. Shifting your legs to emerge from your Kimono and onto your side, you flipped back to the first page, scanning over the first page of documentation. It was exhilarating, and you didn’t want to stop. 

Sukuna’s hands reached out, guiding yours to the first page of information, scribbles, and many mystifying illustrations. “Start here, woman.” 

“My apologies.” 

Rolling his eyes once again, Sukuna took another swing of his liquor and leaned back to a more comfortable position. “Eventually, you will let me have you,” he started, relishing in the sake burning down his throat. Undoubtedly, he would need bottles of it to keep his hands off of you. “You’re too interesting to waste.” 

“That was never out of the question, my Lord.” 

Appreciative of your constant honorifics, he nodded at you. “Now, sit there and read to me. I’m too tired for anything else.”  

And that was what you did until he moved to rest his head in your lap, eyes finally closing in response to your lullaby, the softness of your voice beckoning him to tranquility. Eventually, uneven breaths filled your ears, and his head slacked entierly against you.

Did you make the King of Curses fall asleep from your voice alone?

Technically, you were trapped under his weight but didn't mind. Not when he was this peaceful, this handsome. And when your curiosity got the best of you, he only sighed in admission to the faint touch of your fingers tracing over his facial tattoos.  

A cycle that repeated itself for months until it became your secret tradition.

[doromoni]

Goodbye, I love you | CL16

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁༉‧₊˚. . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁༉‧₊˚.

Ships : Charles Leclerc x Reader

Genre : Heartfelt, Angst

Summary : Its time to say goodbye, you just didn't expect it to be this hard.

Masterlist | Soul Switch Series

< Previous | Charles’ Arc | Next >

Greetings Y/N. I am System 143 better known as the controller of the Soul Switch. You have been selected amongst the 8 billion souls of your kind to participate and live inside the bodies of people who are near the people you most admire. 

In this instance, the system recognizes your love and interest in Formula 1. You will get to be near and experience friendship and/or romantic relationships with your chosen driver in each reality

However, this does not come for free. Y/N L/N, in each reality you are tasked to capture the interest, trust, and gain the love of your chosen driver within our given time duration. The system will be giving you side quests and missions to achieve along the way. 

Failure to complete missions will amount to equal consequences. Failure to capture the love of the driver will automatically lead your soul to transfer back to your own reality. 

In the first reality with Charles Leclerc, we have put your soul into Alex Saint Mleux’s body. This reality is a trial run where we have not given you any missions, and the driver already has feelings for your soul. In the next realities will be more difficult as you move along. 

You are in full control and you may choose to leave the system anytime you’d finish a reality. You may not abandon a reality once you’ve entered. 

DO NOT IN ANY CASE ABANDON A REALITY. 

Y/N L/N, we recognize that you may still be confused. Please do so please use this time to ask the system about your concerns. 

“WHAT THE HELL???” You are speechless and your mind cannot comprehend the mass of information you’ve just received. So all you could say is … what the hell? 

Your mind was running in all directions, at speeds you cannot explain. 

System?! Soul Switch?! WHAT?!! What did they do to your soul?? Wait does this mean you’re dead?!

“Am I dead?” You asked to whatever entity that just spoke to you. You needed answers even though you knew to yourself that you were scared shitless.

“Please do not be frightened. Y/N, you are not dead. You are given a blessing to experience and spend time with people that you most admire” 

“I’m not dead but my soul is somebody else’s body?”

“Yes.”

“Where did their soul go? Are they in my real body then?” You asked perplexed. Because if you’re living their life, then does that mean they are living your life?

“No, child. Their souls are safely kept here with this system till you’ve finished the reality.” 

“Oh, I see. Then do the drivers and the people in that reality remember me when I leave the body?” 

“No, their memories will be erased and will be set to the ones before your Soul transfer”

“So, Charles doesn’t even remember me at all?” You asked, your heart slightly clenching in pain with the idea. 

“Yes, he does not remember you. When you left, Alex’s soul went back and they continued their lives as original” 

If they can’t remember you, then that would mean you can’t be attached to them.  Wow, that's fucked up. 

“Can I choose to stay in one reality?” You asked the system, hoping for some sort of permanence

“No, you may not. Once you’ve achieved your missions your soul will regress” 

“Oh. I see” You trailed off, soaking in everything you just heard. 

“Do you have more questions before your next reality, Y/N?”

“Just one. Can I talk to Charles one last time?” You pleaded to the system. You just needed to say a proper goodbye to Charles. 

“Just this one time” 

“Thank you”

Soul Progression 10%

Soul transferring to Alexandra Saint Mleux’s body ….

Soul Progression 50%

Memories Restoring …

Soul Progression 100%

Your Soul has successfully progressed!

You were back inside Charles’ house, everything was the same — but the atmosphere felt different. Same living room, same furniture, everything was the same except the feeling inside the room  

Looking around the living room, you can’t help but feel sad that you’ll be leaving all of this. It’s only been a month but you’ve grown to love your routine with Charles. 

It was wake up, get ready, eat breakfast together, play with Leo, then go to work, come back home, shower, then cuddle in bed till both of you dozed off.

Everything was easy with him.

“Hi, Mon Bebe. I’ve missed you” You spun on your heels when you heard his name for you from behind

“Charles… I miss you too” You said, letting a small smile spread on your lips as you opened your arms— asking to be embraced by the man whom you called yours, even just for a month. His embrace felt like home. The mixture of his perfume and his own scent calms your racing heart. You rested your cheek on his chest— hearing the thumping heart of Charles Leclerc, soothing all your anxieties. 

“No. Mi amore. You don't get it. I miss YOU. You were with me yesterday and days before that… but it didn’t feel like YOU. Please don’t think I’m crazy but ever since we went to Australia… it was different. You were different.” Charles exclaimed as he held you in his embrace, clutching you closer. Not wanting to let you go in fear of losing you again.

Ever since your soul had regressed— what felt like hours to you has been weeks for Charles in his reality. In your absence, Alex’s original soul had gone back to her body. 

Wait, didn’t the system say the drivers wouldn’t remember you? Then why did Charles recognize your soul?

“ I- Charles. You recognize me?” You slowly lifted your head to meet his eyes. 

“Of course I do. Y/N! I love you.” Charles said as if he were panicking. His hands removed from your waist now held your face. 

“Of course I do. I knew something was off. It was like you weren’t you for weeks. You were not the Y/N I love.” 

“Like I was a different person?” You asked the driver.

“Yes!” Charles exclaimed

“Like… I was Alex?” You tried to ask again this time with reluctance. You then saw a change in Charle’s face. 

“Y/N…. yes exactly. Alex… my girlfriend” You cringed at the realization that Charles finally understood. 

You see his face shifting with so many emotions, his eyes filled with words you cannot name. 

“Y/N. Who are you?” Charles finally asked. His grip on you tightened and then softened after seeing you flinch. 

“Charles, I’m not from he-“

Error: cannot access. The user is not permitted to share information with anyone in this reality. Failure to follow protocol will lead to immediate soul regression. 

“Y/N? Please talk to me” Charles begged. His hands now clutched his hair, as he paced the room. 

“Charles… I can’t say” You pleaded back

“Why can’t you?! Y/N what is going on?!! Please” Charles was in front of you again. He held your hands, clutching them as he begged for an answer.

“My soul is no—“

Error: cannot access. The user is not permitted to share information with anyone in this reality. Failure to follow protocol will lead to immediate soul regression. 

“I’m not from here Charles! My soul is not from your reality!” 

ALERT: THE USER HAS BREACHED PROTOCOL. SOUL REGRESSION IS NOW ONGOING

Warning: Reality Expiration 10%

“What are you talking about Y/N??” Charles was close to breaking down. His hold on you never breaking

Warning: Reality Expiration 30%

“I’m so sorry Charles. Don’t worry about it. I’ll be leaving okay?” You said with a small smile on your face. 

“Where are you going? Y/N please!” Charles asked his hands finding their way back to hold your face.

Warning: Reality Expiration 70%

“Thank you for everything, My Love. Live your life without regrets.” You said as tears rolled down your cheeks 

“Y/N where are you going?? Are you leaving me again? Please don’t! I won’t ask anymore questions, just please stay with me!” Now Charles was screaming with tears blurring his eyes.

Warning: Reality Expiration 90%

“Goodbye. I love you” You said as you kissed his lips for the very last time.

Reality Expiration 100%

Your soul has regressed! 

Welcome back Y/N. You have chosen your next reality would be with Max Emillian Verstappen

Would you like to remember your reality with Charles Leclerc? : Would you? 

Good luck with your next reality. 

Series Taglist: @simpacholic @stereading @lol6sposts @1potato2rulethemall @wertyuizxcvbnm @almostjollypizza @itgirlofthecenturysposts @coffeemin @evitarubio @multifan-idk @cluvsya @comicalivy @idkwhateversposts @charlesgirl16 @sunny44 : Open for requests!

Maintaglist : @myescapefromthislife @peterholland04 @charlottef1 @fangirl125reader @mel164 @gnarlycore @chloelovesln4 @vickykazuya @merchelsea @ln4author @qzmef @nxk1309 @styl1shl1v @lottalove4evelyn @gr3yhues : open for request!

[mphoenix-7]

Bitter Allies [Soap x Reader]

Chapter 1: The Mission

Book Summary: John "Soap" MacTavish has hated you since the very first day you arrived on base and joined their Task Force. You argue all the time, and one day, it pushes Captain Price to his absolute limit. He sends you both away to an isolated cabin in the woods for a week in hopes you can put aside your differences and bond. Will it work? Or will you two just end up hating each other even more?

This is a slow burn enemies to lovers fan fiction featuring Soap and you, the reader.

Word Count: 5,585

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Soap is mean, like really mean, smut later to come, rough smut, lots of swearing, violence, descriptive, blood, angst, fluff, slow burn, (more to come as I write)

A/N: Just a reposting of my story on Wattpad to help generate attention for it! Please go give it some love if you’re liking it so far. My user name is Emily7love or just look up the title.

Master List | Next ->

Bitter Allies • Part 1

"Bravo 7-1, this is Bravo 0-7, give me a sit rep on your position, over."

Soap is currently kneeling in some brush, staring at the small military camp in front of him when the radio call comes through. Despite the fact that he'd most likely need to be adjusting the volume up soon on his ear piece, he still turns it down a little for now.

"This is Bravo 7-1, I've been in position. Waiting on 7-4 to move her ass." He all but growls back to Ghost. His hand tenses on his rifle at even saying those numbers. Bravo 7-4.

You were Bravo 7-4. Also known as (y/n) "States" (l/n). The all too grumpy Sergeant by the callsign Bravo 7-1 was John "Soap" MacTavish. Also known as the biggest pain in your ass since you joined up with Captain Price's Task Force about six months ago.

Now anyone who knew Soap would be shocked to hear you say that you thought he was literally the worst and most insufferable human being to ever stain the Earth. To everyone else, Soap was a funny, charismatic, rather easy-going, and quite friendly guy. Everyone loved Soap. He was the golden boy of the Task Force, of the entire base. People were just naturally drawn to him, and his warm personality.

You can't say you blame people for being shocked when they learn just how much you can't stand him. Cause all those things about Soap were true. He was funny, and friendly, and relaxed, and just a great guy to be around. He was all those things when he wasn't around you. The second you stepped into the picture, his amused grin turned into a stiff scowl. His sparkling eyes turned hard. His relaxed posture turned rigid.

Yeah, John "Soap" MacTavish hated you. And you hated him.

Why did he hate you? You weren't entirely sure. It just seemed like it has always been that way since day one.

You transferred into the Task Force at the request of Captain Price himself. Originally, you had been stationed at a military base in the United States, where you were from. Then one day your commanding officer called you into his office and told you that you'd been given a new assignment. You would be working with a British Task Force across the pond for the next year. A group of four SAS men. If things worked out, then you'd be staying there indefinitely.

You'd been thrilled at the news. You didn't join the military only for the benefits and the opportunity to serve, but for the opportunity to travel and to potentially live somewhere else in the world. Getting to be that while also being SAS was the dream. You worked so hard to get to where you were today. Sleepless nights of studying, hard days of working out and trying to improve and hone your skills, and now it was finally happening. You were being sent off to a new base and a new team. And not just any team, an elite task force. You'd finally been selected.

You met the whole team day one of your arrival. The first person you met was Captain John Price. He was a friendly but very stern man. The no nonsense type of guy. He gave you a tour of the base, and showed you to the female barracks. Once you were semi-settled in (all your belongings piled into your room) you went to meet the other members of your new Task Force.

Price introduced you to each teammate. They'd all been in his office by the time you and Price showed up. Two had been seated, and one was standing despite there being enough chairs. That had been Soap.

"Alright you lot, here she is. This is (y/n) (l/n). Straight from across the pond." Price introduced you. "(Y/n), these are boys of the 141. This is Sergeant Kyle Garrick."

"You can also call me Gaz." Kyle fills in, giving you a nod and a handshake. "It's nice to have someone from the States joining us." He was the one responsible for your callsign being States.

"This is your Lieutenant. Simon Riley. He goes strictly by Ghost." Price continues. Ghost doesn't make a move to shake your hand. He just stayed quiet. Didn't even give you a nod of any kind. Quite intimidating coming from a guy wearing a skull over his face. "And lastly, this is-"

"Soap." The man barks out before Price can say anything. You remember hearing Price sigh before finishing his sentence. "Sergeant John MacTavish."

"You can call me Soap though. Nothing else." His voice was harsh, and carried a tone of warning. If you to call him by anything else other than his callsign, there were going to be harsh consequences.

His arms were folded across his chest, and he'd glared at you during the whole introduction. It made you so nervous, the reactions you got from both Soap and Ghost. Price assured you later though that they would come around. They just needed to warm up to you. He'd been 50% correct.

At the time, Ghost had been the most terrifying of three, and the one you worried you wouldn't be able to connect with (boy had you been foolish). At the time though, Soap had at least said something to you. Ghost never said a word or even acknowledged you. And when Ghost did talk to you, it was always in a gruff voice like you were annoying him. But over time, you came to realize that was just who Ghost was. It wasn't anything personal. He was like that with literally everyone. It was rare to catch him laughing or to hear his gruff voice become lighter.

Soap, on the other hand, also spoke to you the way Ghost did, but he only used that tone with you. He was so cheery and light when speaking with the guys. Even with strangers, his voice may have been slightly more gruff, but never as harsh as when he spoke to you.

His personality was vastly different around the others as well. Whereas he could joke, laugh, and relax around them, he was the opposite around you. You thought for a moment that maybe he was sexiest and just didn't like women, though every woman he spoke to around base, he was the kindest and most respectful guy.

Now six months later, not much had changed. Soap still spoke to you in a gruff voice. He still scowled when you entered a room. He still glared at you any time he needed to look at you. He had gotten more "comfortable" around you. But really that just meat he was far more comfortable with insulting you directly. From the way you shoot to the way you eat, he could find anything to gripe about. And eventually, you decided that if he was going to be difficult, then you'd return the favor.

The first time you insulted him back, he looked shocked, then just flat out angry. Your encounters went from quiet insults being thrown back and forth and dirty looks to all out yelling at each other. Never physical fights, but Soap had punched a hole in the wall during one particularly bad argument.

The others couldn't stand you fighting. Gaz would do everything in his power to keep you separated and distracted from each other so you wouldn't start. Ghost tried to never be involved, but he would sometimes break up the fights by using his scary lieutenant voice and sending you both to different parts of the base to cool off. Price... he got the most upset. He was normally so calm under pressure but hearing you and Soap bicker pushed him to the limit. He'd yell at you both until he turned red and then normally punish you by making you do extra cleaning, harder workouts, or something else just as labor intensive.

You lost count of how many times you'd been in his office with Soap, getting reprimanded on your behavior. One of the worst had been when Soap actively tried to get you kicked off the team while you were sitting right there.

"She is a right pain in the arse, Price! I didn't even start it this time!" He claims, doing everything he could not to look at you.

"Oh blow it out your ass, Soap. You were giving me a look."

"Then don't fucking look at me." Soap growls through his teeth.

Price slams his fist onto the table, making you both jump a little and halt your bickering for a moment. "Can you two shut the hell up? It's just constant with you. I have had a headache for five fucking days cause of you idiots. What is it going to take for you two to get along?"

Soap is quick with his answer. "All this could be solved if you just deported her little ass back to the US. Seriously Price, she's caused nothing but trouble since she got here."

"I am right here, Soap." You huff out a laugh, not too shocked he'd say something like that though.

"I wish you weren't." He throws back, making Price intervene again.

"Enough! She's not going anywhere, Soap. Whether you like it or not, she brings in a skill set we are missing in this team."

"Like hell she doesn't! We can find someone else." He argues, earning a glare from Price.

"She is staying. I signed a contract that she stays for a year. If we break that, we lose our funding, our reputation, and a whole lot more." Price says, making Soap cross his arms and sit back in his chair.

"So after however many months she has left, we can get rid of her?"

"You'll be lucky if I keep you once your contract expires!" He shouts at Soap, which shuts the Scot up. Sighing, Price continues. "I will reassess at the end of year once States' contract has expired." He says more calmly, which makes your heart sink and Soap smirk.

You were dismissed then, but Price had you stay back. Probably to keep you and Soap from walking with each other, but he also has a few words for you. He reassured you that you were doing great. That you truly did bring a lot to their team and that he was happy to have you there.

"Are you going to send me back at the end of the year?" You'd asked him before you left, looking over your shoulder by the door while he stayed seated at his desk.

"Don't worry about that now, States. But know, I like having you here, and remember, it takes both of to sign the renewal contract."

That gave you hope. Price most likely would want to keep you, but he was also going to leave it up to you to decide whether or not you wanted to stay. At the same time, if things continued the way they were, it wasn't going to be good for team morale. If Price had to pick between you and Soap, you were sure he'd pick Soap. He'd been with the team longer and knew them far better than you did. This was your dream though. Being SAS. It could take years before you got another team. You liked Price, Ghost and Gaz. Could you live with Soap?

That meeting was only three weeks ago. You'd been with the Task Force for almost six months. Halfway through.

Your current mission landed you in Naryn, Kyrgyzsta. You were hunting down a military leader, General Azamat, who was accused of doing an illegal arms deal with Russia. Photos and weeks of gathering intel suggested he was guilty and currently at this military base in Naryn.

This was purely a stealth mission first. You and Soap were tasked with infiltrating the small military base while Ghost provided overwatch. There were three security stations. One on the East, what Soap was in position for, the South, the one you were headed towards now, and the West, where you and Soap would meet to take out the last one.

The East and South stations were backup generators and needed to be taken out first before the main one to the South was. That way you kept the element of surprise and didn't need to worry about the backups going online. After that, your troops would push in and secure the base, capture the military leader, and you could all go home.

Soap had given the update on his position, saying he was where he needed to be, about two minutes ago. Two fucking minutes ago. And he was already griping that you weren't to your position yet. His words rang in your ear through your comm earpiece.

"This is Bravo 7-1, I've been in position. Waiting on 7-4 to move her ass."

"Calm down, I'm almost fucking there. Don't be so impatient." You growl back. "Seriously Ghost, how do you even deal with him?"

"Haad yer wheesht." Soap growls at you, some Scottish slang you don't understand. No doubt he was telling you to shut the fuck up or something along those lines.

"Either speaking fucking English or don't speak, MacTavish." You bark, voice getting a little too loud for a stealth mission. Even if you weren't too close to the camp yet, there could be patrols you needed to be mindful of.

"How about you fucking learn about other's cultures and then we wouldn't have this problem. And don't call me MacTavish."

"I do know about other's cultures! I just don't care to know about the one that you came from." You throw back before Ghost gets involved.

"Shut it. Now. Not another word. Fuck's sake." You could practically see Ghost shaking his head. "States, how long till you're in position?" Ghost asks, directing attention back to the mission.

"Give me two minutes."

"Bloody fucking Jesus." You hear Soap mummer through the comms.

You take a deep breath to try and focus your energy back on your current tasks. Soap was not going to get in your head and mess this up for you. For anyone else, he would have stayed quiet. In fact, it probably wouldn't have even bothered him.

"Hold up, 7-4." You hear Ghost say to you after about 30 seconds of creeping your way to your position. "You've got a small patrol further up from your position. Just over the hill. Two men, I don't see anyone else. When you're in range, get a good shot of one, and I'll dump the other for you."

"On it. Thanks Ghost." You whisper back, readying your rifle and trying to be as silent as you can while you approach the men.

"You telling me it's gonna be even longer now." Soap complains, making you roll your eyes.

"I'm sorry your side didn't have rough terrain or anyone to fight off, Soap." You tell him sarcastically. "Some of us didn't get the easy baby route to take."

"I'll have you know I took down two fucking patrols all by myself while I made my way over here. And I didn't have Ghost's help to do it either."

"Fuck you." You growl at him.

"What did I bloody fucking say?" Ghost growls, his lieutenant voice coming out. You curse yourself as you let it happen again. Just ignore the Scot and focus on what's ahead.

"In position, Ghost. I see them. Clear sight on both, your call."

Ghost does the quick calculations in his head as he prepares his shot, trying to determine which of the two men he had a better chance of taking out. "The one with the flashlight is mine. Dump is mate. In three, two..."

You both took the shot, Ghost pulling his trigger just a millisecond before you to account for the distance. He landed a clean headshot while your first bullet landed more in the shoulder of your guy. You took a quick second shot, which finished the job with another headshot.

"He's down. Clean shots. Though try for the head first next time." Ghost quips. There was no malice in his words. Just Ghost joking around to ease tension. Soap clearly needed to take lessons from Ghost on how to tell a joke without being a total ass about it.

"Noted. Thanks for the advice, 0-7." You banter back, earning a scowl and an eye roll from Soap.

"Less talking, more getting to where you're supposed to be." Soap cuts in, ending the fun you'd been having with Ghost.

"Don't get your skirt in a knot. I'm in position." You huff, pulling out your binoculars and scouting the area. Despite this base housing a military leader, and having two back up generators, they really didn't have much security. No walls, no floodlights. Just a few patrols outside. They weren't expecting trouble.

"It's a bloody kilt. Not a skirt." Soap seethes, his jaw clenched. At this rate, he wasn't going to be able to finish this mission. Everything about you was just pure annoyance to him.

"Yeah whatever you want to tell yourse-"

"Are you two going to be able to finish this mission or am I going to have to pull you both from it?" Ghost barks over the comms, clearly fed up now.

You feel your face flush hot in embarrassment. Ghost has never threatened to remove you from a mission before. You've always been good and reliable. You can't fail and have it on your record that you were pulled from a mission due to not being able to get along with others. That was a death sentence for your career with the SAS.

"No, sir. Sorry, 0-7." You apologize, not hearing anything from Soap's end. He was probably pouting and internally cursing you for getting him in trouble, even though this was all his fault. "Going to head out for the South station. Bravo 7-4 going dark." You turn your radio from the public channel between you three to a private one used only for emergencies. At least now you wouldn't be able to hear Soap for a little bit.

Soap hears your radio beep once, signaling to him you'd disconnected for a moment while you advance towards your target goal. Once you had, he huffs and takes a moment to squeeze his eyes shut and collect himself.

"I can't fucking stand her, Ghost." He complains to his friend. "Why the hell did Price ever think it was a good idea to put us together on a mission?" He looked out into the field, making out the little shadow of you making your way slowly to the base.

"She's part of the team, Soap. Price has his reasons. Just focus on the mission and make it work." Ghost replies, not offering too much help aside from stating the obvious and putting Soap's mind back in the field. "Better get going. Your path is clear right now."

Soap sighs heavily and stretches out his neck a bit by tilting his ears toward each shoulder. One side pops a little, only relieving a little tension. "Alright. Bravo 7-1 going dark." He clicks his radio to the private channel and begins to make his way to the East backup generator's building.

By the time Soap reaches his building, you are already working your way inside the South building thanks to the small head start you got. You stick to the shadows as much as you can, thoughts wandering to Soap from time to time. Wondering if he's cleared his building already or if he ran into trouble. Then again, if it was really bad, he could have contacted you or Ghost and there would have been alarms going off. And as much as you hated him, you had to admit he was really good at this kind of stuff. Sweeping through a place and clearing it out. Quick and clean. Of course he'd never ever hear you utter any praises directed at him.

Your building wasn't too heavily guarded. You assumed most of their men were either asleep in the barracks, standing guard of where the military leader was staying, or off patrolling areas they deemed more important than the backup generators. The main building to the West would have most of their patrols since it was the more important building. That was the reason you and Soap needed to work on clearing it together.

You managed to clear your building fairly quickly with only one close call. One guard had seen you shoot someone else, but you managed to take them out before they could radio for backup, and no one seemed to have heard him yell. Once cleared, you plugged in the flash drive and uploaded the virus it contained to make the generator go offline.

You bring a hand to your radio and speak into it. "This is Bravo 7-4, generator down, South building secure. I repeat, generator down. Heading to the West building to the rendezvous now." You begin to head out the way you came in as Ghost speaks to you over the comms.

"This is Bravo 0-7. Confirm. You're all clear." Ghost responds.

"You got a sit rep on our precious Bravo 7-1?" You ask, forgetting to switch over from the private channel. You duck behind some ammo boxes and sneak along them, not expecting to get an answer from Soap. You expected him to be busy still and not on the public channel that you thought you were on. Before Ghost can answer, 7-1 graces you with a response.

"States, shut your fucking mouth and switch your radio over to public. How the hell did you get selected when you can't even use a damn radio." He snarls, making you pause. Soap's words always kinda stung a bit, but some more than others.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Am I not allowed to have a sit rep on you?" You ask, ignoring your slip up of being in the wrong channel.

"No." He answers flatly, making you sigh and roll your eyes. So much for working as a team. "And switch-"

You switched over while he was mid sentence, not wanting to hear his grating voice anymore. You were getting a little worn down at this point. It wasn't like you enjoyed arguing with Soap as much as you did. It was exhausting. Being out in the field where you were already stressed was making it a lot worse.

"He's almost done." Ghost answers you, keeping you updated since Soap clearly wasn't going to. "Just head to the rendezvous, States."

You grumble softly but do as you are told. You mutter a "copy" into your radio before slowly and carefully making your way to the rendezvous. You hear a soft beep shortly after, signaling Soap had reconnected to the public channel. You try to avoid using your radio after that, even skipping check-ins since it seemed that Soap was going to make any use of your radio an unpleasant experience. Though eventually you do need to give an update that you were at the rendezvous, that way Soap wouldn't shoot you.

You move to the side of a building and crouch down. "Bravo 7-4 approaching rendezvous." You sigh to yourself before adding, "Bravo 7-1, please let me know when you are on your way."

"I'm already here. Look to your bloody right 7-4." You look almost directly to your right, which is met with an annoyed sigh. "Not that far. Back to your.. straight.. just- Fucks sake, by the crates!"

"You're not giving me good directions!" You silently yell back, still looking for him.

"By the crates! The only crates in the area! I'm practically in the open."

You see him then. His stupidly handsome face turned into a scowl and his piercing blue eyes glaring at you. He was not in the open, only his head poking up from the crates. You sent the same look right back to him and make your way over, looking around and making sure the way was clear so you wouldn't compromise your position. He was kind enough to at least raise his gun and cover you as you made your way over. Once behind the crates, back pressed to them, he relaxes his position and ducks behind them with you.

"States, look at me," Soap says, his voice deep and gravely. The only tone he ever seemed to use with you. "I want this done clean and easy. No fuck ups. You're going to follow my lead and stay out of my way. And I don't want to hear a single word from you unless it's mission related. You got that?" He lectures you.

You are so, so tempted to roll your eyes at him. He was talking to you like you were a marine fresh off selection. Not a five year veteran who was selected for an elite special forces team. He didn't even outrank you by that much. Not enough to make a real difference. The only thing he had up on you was experience and maybe two years in age.

You're silent for a long moment, glaring at him until he repeats himself a little.

"Do you understand?" He annunciates each word, and you swallow down the choice of words you had for him. This wasn't the time or place for that. You were in the middle of a mission that could go belly up and turn dangerous. You didn't need to be fighting the sergeant on this.

"You got it." You say tightly, mustering up all the strength you possessed not to say more than that to him.

Soap seemed surprised you agreed so easily, but he eyes you suspiciously for a moment before nodding. "Good." He nods before reaching for his radio. "Bravo 0-7, this is 7-1. Going in. Rest of the troops be ready in five minutes and wait for the signal."

"Copy, 7-1." Ghost confirms. "Be warned, I see multiple troops in the vicinity of the West security building. Some men have different uniforms. They look to be General Azamat's men. He could be in there."

You furrow your brows at that. You were expecting a lot of troops in that area, but the military leader you were after wasn't supposed to be in there. There was a bunker in the middle of the camp that he was supposed to be in. It wasn't going to be a significant change the mission though. It just meant your job had become a lot harder. More men to clear out without raising alarm.

"This is Bravo 7-4, 0-7 what's the best way in?" You ask, refusing to look at Soap. You saw his head turn to look at you from the corner of your eye.

"If you wanna come home looking like Swiss cheese I'd go with the front door. Around the back might be your best shot, but I can't get a clear view from my area." Ghost informs you.

"Can you reposition and-"

"No." Soap immediately cuts you off, making you glance to him. "We don't have time for a reposition. We need to move before they realize their backup generators have been breached."

"You just don't like it cause it was my idea." You accuse, watching as Soap visibly becomes agitated.

"I don't like it cause it's a bloody stupid idea!" Soap says through clenched teeth. He was getting right in your face. You were about to tell him off until Ghost's voice filled your left ear.

"Soap's right. There's no time. Head to the back and make due with that entry point. We'll go loud if we need to."

Soap wore a smug look as Ghost sided with him. You despised it. "See? Told you it was a stupid idea." He reiterates, still way too close for comfort.

Your anger flared, and you shoved him back with a forearm to his chest. He reacted instantly, grabbing your arm and flinging it away as if it had burned him. The movement was so quick, it surprised you a bit, and all you can do is stare at him with wide eyes.

"Touch me again, and you're going to regret ever signing up for the military," he growled, his finger jabbing the air between you before standing up and storming off without attracting too much attention.

You're left stunned for a moment, though you're not sure how you thought he was going to react to you pushing him. Within a matter of seconds, you gather yourself, reminding yourself that you were still in enemy territory and needed to focus. With a reluctant sigh, you followed after him.

You managed to make your way to the back of the West Building with Soap without too many complications. The most you needed to really do was duck behind some parked trucks as a military jeep rolled by. It exited the compound, likely heading out to meet a patrol for a shift change.

You and Soap didn't say a single word to each other the whole way. For a stealth mission, that was preferable. However, you could feel the tension between you and Soap. Disdain was radiating off him, and you didn't want to get too close to him in fear he was going to blow up at any second.

There's a line up of vehicles that serve as your cover for the time being as you sneak along one side of them. Suddenly, you nearly collide with Soap when he abruptly raises his hand, signaling you to stop. There's a group of four men all standing in a small circle, talking and smoking together. They're isolated from other groups but taking out a group of four could be very difficult to do.

Soap takes a few steps back, waving for you to back up as well. "We can't take that group out by ourselves, we're going to have to go around." He tells you in a hushed voice as you attempt to peak around him to get a good view of the targets blocking your path.

"It's only four. We can both take out two." You suggest, but, just like all your other ideas, Soap is fast to shut that one down too.

"Not a chance. You suck at hitting multiple headshots." He accuses.

That makes your blood begin to boil. You were not the God awful shot he made you out to be. In fact, back on your base in the US, you were considered to be one of the better shooters.

"I don't suck at making headshots." You glare, making him huff at you.

"Oh really? You missed the one earlier. Ghost managed to hit it from hundreds of meters away, and you bloody miss from a few feet. Your aim is absolute dog shite, States. I'm not going to have you mess up this entire mission cause you think you're better than you are."

His voice was harsh, as always, and his glare was biting. You felt your eyes burn as tears formed, but you refused to let Soap see you cry. He'd only roll his eyes and call you a baby. Crying would only give him more reasons to think you didn't belong here, that you weren't as good as the rest of them.

There were so many things you wanted to say to him in that moment, but you couldn't. The words got caught in your throat, and you feared that if you opened your mouth, a sob would escape. All you could do was look away and clench your jaw, masking your hurt feelings as anger instead.

Soap seems to take your silence as you submitting. "Come on. We'll go around that way."

He was motioning to a camp-like area that seemed mostly deserted, though there were probably men sleeping in the multiple tents that were set up. Along with the tents, there was some campfires and some small boxes of what looked to be filled with MREs.

As Soap quickly moved to the new area to bypass the group of men, you glanced back at them. You knew you could land those headshots. If Ghost had been with you, you would have taken them down already. You were tired of Soap thinking you were inferior and wanted to prove him wrong so badly. You knew you could land those headshots...

Raising your rifle slowly, you lined up the shot for the first target and mentally mapped out the sequence. One on the right, then left, then back right, and then back left. A simple zig-zag pattern. Easy enough.

Right as you're about to pull the trigger, you hear Soap's voice crackle through the comms. His voice was deep and full of warning and venom. 

"Don't you fucking dare, States."

But you dared. You wanted more than anything to prove him wrong. You slowly exhaled and pulled the trigger.

[misseviehyde]

CONFISCATED - Part 1

"AGGGGHHHHHH! I FUCKING HATE YOU, I WISH YOU'D DIE!"

Lawrence winced as the screams of his hysterical teenage daughter rang in his ears and she slammed the door to her bedroom so hard, the house shook and plaster fell down.

Bella was volatile at the best of times, but by confiscating her phone - the most important thing in her life, her Father had really just set her off.

He could hear sobbing and crashing in her room and knew she was trashing it. He knew from experience that Bella would try anything to get her phone back... threatening him, threatening to hurt herself... begging, screaming, pleading, lying... it was kind of sad. She might even try to contact her Mom, but even though he and Beth had separated, they still parented together and it would do little good.

'Since when did teenagers get so addicted to social media?' he thought. He'd noticed his daughters addiction to her phone had been getting worse and then when another parent had contacted him to say Bella was bullying her daughter he had decided to act.

He'd been pretty disappointed to see the mean messages calling the other girl a fat loser. He knew Bella was a popular girl and obsessed with her looks, but he hadn't realised she was so mean. It seemed everyone was afraid of Bella and she liked it.

Lawrence had decided that he needed to get his daughter back on track. She would be moving out soon and he didn't want his legacy to be a spoiled toxic bitch who thought she could treat other people like dirt. Bella seemed to think the only thing that mattered in life was money and status.

"I better go through here and see what else she's been up to..." he mused.

Scrolling through the phone, Lawrence was a little embarrassed to see the clothes and outfits his daughter had bookmarked as things to buy. They were all skimpy and expensive... he wasn't sure he approved. There were also pictures of boys in her phone and he didn't want to think about his horny daughters crushes on other men.

As he scrolled through, his eye was suddenly caught by an app he had never heard of. Brat App.

Opening the app, Lawrence saw it was some sort of social media app. It seemed you scored points for posting selfies and completing tasks and then you could spend those points buying outfits and upgrades.

Bella had obviously been playing it a lot. She had accumulated a lot of points. Perhaps she'd been saving up?

Intrigued Lawrence opened the avatar menu.

CREATE NEW AVATAR?

He clicked the button and a 3D doll appeared. It was female - you could only have a female representation it seemed. The name Loren had been randomly generated. He went with it.

Clicking on the doll, Lawrence saw you could spend points to buy different features. He began to play.

Hair: blonde. Body-type: Princess. Makeup: Pink

Each selection changed the avatar making it more attractive and feminine looking. Lawrence found it strangely addictive. Strangely pleasing to shape and mould the avatar, to watch it getting prettier and prettier.

Make her bitchy. Make her mean.

He wasn't sure where the intrusive thought came from but it felt good. Yes... why not make the avatar look hot and mean. A bully... even worse than his daughter.

Yessss. Make her super popular... make her an IT girl.

He selected the toxic femininity personality trait and pushed the natural leader button. Loren was going to be an Alpha girl.

More... make her meaner. Make her a total nightmare. Make her completely evil.

The intrusive thoughts felt really good and Lawrence saw that there were other options besides physical. He began to play with those. He cranked the popularity slider to maximum. He selected Head Cheerleader. He selected the slider for wealth and pushed it as high as it would go.

Make sure she knows how to fuck. She has to be the best at everything. Make her a fucking dirty slut...

Lawrence didn't feel embarassed as he entered the sexuality tab. It seemed so natural now to adjust Loren and make her nastier.

Sexual Orientation: Likes boys but will make out with girls. Sexually confident - switch. Likes to be fucked by Alpha's, but peg and dominate beta boys.

He noticed he'd nearly spent all of his daughters points. She'd really been saving, but he'd had enough points that he could pretty much max out all of Loren's stats.

The avatar was now of a mean, bullying, rich brat. She was the Head Cheerleader and a completely cruel delinquent who got whatever she wanted. She oozed toxic femininity, was an avatar of lust and desire and clearly had no morals. Loren was the most evil bitch it was possible to be.

COMPLETE AVATAR AND TRANSFORM?

Lawrence stared at the big button flashing at the bottom of the app. What did that mean? His thumb hesitated over it. Something wasn't right here.

Push it loser. Push it and see.

Lawrence felt like something was influencing him. Something external... yet also something within himself. Something hungry and dark and desperate to be free. Something that had seen its chance and was going to take it.

He pushed the button...

Lawrence screamed in pleasure as pink lightning blasted out of the phone and engulfed him. Bones cracked and skin tightened as with a howl of orgasmic pleasure he began to transform.

Long blonde hair cascaded from his scalp and makeup simmered across his features as his drab clothing became hot and sexy. Breasts grew and his dick shrunk away and his ass inflated out.

Loren was becoming a reality.

Pussy lips opened as body hair receded and a hot blonde teenage slut rolled her pretty eyes in ecstasy. Nails shot out, thick makeup covered her face and the new bitch giggled in glee. This felt amazing.

"Ohhhhh fuckkkkk yesssss," she hissed as her transformation completed.

Loren blinked. She looked down at the phone in her hand. What... a.... rush.

She smirked and standing up walked to the mirror to admire her perfect body.

She was eighteen... she was popular and she was horny.

This was going to be a lot of fun...

The end?

[the-californicationist]

Cali's Kinktober: Day 04

Kinktober Masterlist felix culpa - "fortunate fault" Gaz x f!reader Kinks > dubcon, stuck kink, anal sex Full tags on AO3 - MDNI - Read at your own risk.

You were born to be a mechanic, and working on fancy, top-secret vehicles is one of your favorite things about your job. However, when you crawl into the belly of a broken down tank and can’t get back out, one of your fellow soldiers takes advantage of your (un)fortunate situation.

When the order rolled across your desk, you couldn’t believe your luck. You’d been selected by an elite task force to design a very custom, very deadly tank mod, and you were out of your mind with excitement. This was your dream job, and you were giddy the whole drive down to the site.

Parked out front on the concrete pad, you saw what looked like a Challenger 3, but something was… off. Yes, the paint job was different, and they’d chosen to go with a wider tread for the desert terrain they were in. But, that wasn’t all. They’d done something underneath, something secret and hidden. 

You didn’t waste any time. You were agile and you could always wriggle yourself into small places, perfect for a mechanic. And your brain loved puzzles, so this was going to be an amazing project. 

You were instructed to boost the navigation system to an incredible degree. But, if they needed desert-style mods, you were going to give them an intense aircon and liquid cooling unit as well as the mother of all filters. In order to get started, you had to work around this… contraption they had installed at the base of the tank.

When you got a closer look, you realized what it was. It was a wheel! They’d fitted the bottom of their tank with speed boosters and a three-sixty wheel to help them turn on a dime. This was insane. If only you could get a little closer to see if…

Oops…

You moved your hips backward, trying to free your body, but you were stuck. When you tried to move forward, your belt loop had caught on a long screw, wrapped around it so tight that you couldn’t free yourself with your hands. 

Fuck. 

“Hey!” You called out, trying to see if anyone was around to help you.

You tried again, a little louder this time,

“Hey! Is anybody there?”

Nothing. You waited for a while, trying not to panic, and then you head a large warehouse door slide open, its metal wall clanging and banging as it slid up into the railings. 

“Hey! Help me!”

“Well, well,” a smooth, deep voice teased you cruelly, “Wha’s all this, then?”

“I’m… uh, I think I’m stuck. Can you pull me out?”

“And you are?”

You told him your name and he offered his own,

“You can call me Gaz. In fact, you…” He bent down to the side of the tank and met your eyes, “You can call me anytime.”

You rolled your eyes at him, but he was cute enough to make you smile at his terrible joke. 

“Can you help me or not, Gaz?”

“That depends,” you watched his boots march their way around the front of the machine, settling back behind you, “Wha’s in it for me?”

“Um…” You tried to think about what you had to offer, but you came up empty, “My eternal thanks?”

“I think I want somethin’ else.”

You felt his hands wrap themselves around your thick ass cheeks, giving them a rough squeeze. 

“Hey!”

“Thought you wanted out, babes. I’m just tryin’ to help you, ain’t I?”

You had to admit, his hands did feel pretty nice. He seemed singularly obsessed with your ass, massaging your flesh through your canvas work pants, using his knees to spread your legs wide so that he could dig his fingers roughly between the join of your legs. 

“Mngh… wait. Someone’s gonna see us,” you protested, trying to hide your pleasure. 

“Nah, don’t think so. Not while they’re in Cap’s briefing. Long-winded, him.”

You squirmed, trying to free yourself again, and you heard his silky laugh.

“I could leave you here, lovie,” Gaz threatened, “Let them find you in an hour or two.”

“Don’t go… Help me out, Gaz,” you begged, “Please?” 

“Then stay still,” he purred, “And let me get you out.”

You heard the soft whisper of a knife coming out of its sheath, and you felt him cut your belt loop. Then, he went further, slicing your belt and raking it out of your pants. Without the leather strap holding up your slacks, they began to slip down your hips, slowly revealing more and more of your body to your “savior”. 

“Wow… look at these,” his fingers played in the lacy strap of your thong, “Definitely not regulation, huh? Naughty girl…”

You whimpered, hearing your own desperation echo against the belly of the tank, letting this gorgeous man have his way with you. You rationalized it in your mind. He was helping, he deserved to touch, right?

In one fell swoop, he yanked your pants the rest of the way down, letting them get caught on your knees, trapping you even more than you already were. 

“Holy shit, this arse is a fuckin’ dream.”

His mouth was on you before you could take your next breath. You felt his strong tongue writhe its way towards your hole, licking you and suckling at your skin like a hungry beast, as if you were a fresh fruit, as if he were starving. You could feel the drool from his lolling tongue drip across the underside of your ass as he ate you out, moaning as he feasted on your pliant flesh. 

“Gaz, please…” You whined, trying to keep your voice down but feeling yourself beginning to spiral out of control. 

“Patience, lovie. Wanna taste you, first.”

“If someone sees us, they’ll… unghf–fuck… they’ll throw us in the glasshouse! I’ll lose my job!”

He sighed, annoyed, 

“Fine, a quick one, then, hm?”

“No, wait! That’s not what I… ohhh…” You tried to protest, tried to get him to listen to reason, but before you could state your case, he was pressing his thumb against the rim of your hole, stretching you open until you gaped for him, and you could feel his eyes bearing down into your darkness, imagining the suffocating warmth that awaited him inside.

He laughed softly, letting his thumb delve a little deeper. Then, he replaced it with his thick middle finger, and he began to writhe his way inside of you, stretching you out as he explored your body.

“So tight… Gonna be a rough ride if you’re tryin’ to rush me, baby.”

“Mmngh. Ngh. Nuhhh… No, just… let’s meet up later. Tonight… Won’t have to rush…” You were struggling to stay on the right side of sane because his fingers knew exactly how to twist and pry and press you open. 

He made a nasty little groan, a vote against your idea, 

“But, if I don’t try to get you unstuck now, my mate’s will come ‘round the corner and find you like this. They’re not as gentle as me, you know, lovie.”

Another finger slipped into your body before you were ready for it, and his knuckles made your asshole ache from the soreness of his touch. You cried out, and you had to listen to another devilish laugh as he fucked you on his hand. 

Your hole was making slurping, wet noises as he coated you in his spit, using it as lube so it would ease his way. You could also hear the tell-tale sound of him jerking his cock, the rhythmic slapping giving him away. 

“We’re outta time, babes. Need you to breathe for me, yeah?”

When you felt the soft tip of his prick, your whole body responded to him. Gaz was prying your cheeks apart with one hand and guiding himself in with the other. You began to stretch, and you held your breath, bracing for pain. 

“Shh, shh,” he cooed at you, “Relax, baby. Gonna hurt you if you don’t let me in. There’s my good girl.”

You let out a trembling exhale, shaking uncontrollably as he forced himself to fit, his hard length twice as big as his fingers had been, making you see stars from the pleasure-wrapped pain. 

“Too big… it’s too much… I can’t…” You tried to protest, your hips grinding towards him, betraying your true desire. 

He rocked himself forward and back, popping his thick cockhead in and out of you, watching you shudder with every thrust. 

“You can, baby. I’ll help you. That’s it. Breathe for me.”

You tried to steady your heart, and every time your breath left your lungs, it shook with a nervous vibrato, culminating in a high whine. 

His cock dipped further. He was nearly halfway, and you felt like he would be in your throat if he took you any deeper. 

“Gaz, holy fuck!”

“Mmm, I know, lovie. But, you’re takin’ me so bloody well. Love watching your tight little arsehole stretch itself for me. When it twitches like that… yeah, that’s so fuckin’ hot.”

You couldn’t help the twitching. You were pulsing for him uncontrollably. Your body wanted to come, and it was ready for him to make you. But, he was going too slowly, trying to be careful with you. It was driving you out of your mind. 

You jerked your hips onto his cock, trying to fit more of him into your body with each thrust, listening to the huffy, gasping noises you were dragging out of him. 

“Oh, fuck me. That feels so good. You ready for more, love? I’ll give you more,” he snarled. You could hear the venom in his voice as he quickened his pace. 

Gaz abandoned his plan for a slow entry and shoved himself forward, rocking your body and making you cry out in an aching peal of pleasure. Then, he began to fuck himself into you, holding your cheeks apart so he could watch his invasion. 

You were a babbling mess, incapable of words or thoughts. All you could feel was the fiery bliss that sparked through your core as he rutted you into the filthy concrete. 

Your pussy was exposed to the rough ground, and it rubbed back and forth as he thrust his cock into you. You reached down to play with yourself, and you found out that you were soaking with thick, creamy slick. 

Spreading it liberally across your folds, you began making small, fast circles around your clit, eager to feel it swell and harden under your hands. You were so close; just a little more and Gaz would send you careening off the edge. 

“Touchin’ that greedy little quim, huh?”

“Yeah,” you moaned, confessing your sins to him.

“Good girl,” he rasped breathlessly, fucking you at a brutal pace now, unable to control his lust. 

That was the phrase that pulled your trigger, apparently. You listened to his lascivious praise and felt yourself rattle across the line, tumbling and whirling through a destructive orgasm, wetting yourself with pleasure, your pussy desperately clenching around nothing but air. 

“Tha’s it. Tha’s so fuckin’ good, baby. Come for me just like that…” Gaz let his hand strike down on your exposed ass cheek, and you screamed even louder, keening and rolling in the overstimulating sensation of his sex. 

His movements became frantic, and you could hear him grunting with a joyful rage. Then, silence. Everything went still. He froze, buried deep inside you, sunk to the hilt. He was coming in you, dumping load after load of hot spend, letting it pool at the furthest point he could reach, letting his prick paint your asshole white with his cream. 

Without saying a word, he pulled out, backing away from you. You heard him rustling around in his pockets, and then silence again when he found what he was looking for. 

“Fuck. Holy fuck… Gaz, are you gonna help me out of here?” You asked, panting and well-used, wondering about his promise. 

“Mmm, I dunno, baby. Looks like the meeting just let out. Give the lads a note, will ya?”

You felt the cold tip of a marker slide across your ass cheek, and you called back to him,

“Hey! What the fuck?”

“Gaz… was… here… There we go. All set. Good luck with your situation, lovie. When you get free, come find me for round two, yeah?”

“Are you seriously gonna leave me here?” You asked him in disbelief. 

“Yeah, the boys look pretty eager to help you, so I’ll let them have a go at it. I’m sure they’ll get you out. Ghost’s got a thing for puzzles. Oh, here. Hold onto this for me, would ya?”

You felt him slide the body of the thick Sharpie into your asshole, plugging his come inside of you, ready for the next man in line to leave his mark.

[otomehoneyybearr]

Keith VS Kagari

The Beast Tempts the Little Rabbit Episode 1

Ep2 | Ending | Epilogue

If I were to head to Jade on an errand to buy books for the owner—

("Enjoy the seasonal flowers in the flower-viewing event!" ...So that's why it's so lively here.)

Every flower I’d seen was rare, and it filled me with excitement.

(There are so many delicious-looking stalls, and I'm starting to get hungry.)

(I've finished the task the owner asked me to do, so maybe I should just enjoy the event as it is.)

Emma: "Ah...!"

Man: "My bad."

Suddenly, a man running from behind collided with me, causing me to stumble.

Emma: "No, I'm the one who should apologize!"

The man nodded and then hurriedly disappeared into a large mansion along a deserted street.

(I think might have been in the way. I need to be more careful.)

(Huh...?)

I suddenly caught a sweet scent, different from that of flowers, and stopped in my tracks.

Curious, I search for the source of the scent and came across a mobile vendor with a sign that read "DORAYAKI" in large letters.

(Dorayaki is a traditional sweet from Kogyoku, right? I remember Owner made it for me once.)

(It feels strange to see it in Jade.)

My stomach grumbled, expressing its hunger.

(I haven't had it in a while, maybe I should have some.)

Emma: "Excuse me, could I have one dorayaki, please?"

…..

???: "One dorayaki, please."

Staff: "Sorry, buddy. The lady there just bought the last one."

Staff: "Come back tomorrow!"

???: "I see, got it."

???: “...Dorayaki.”

???: "...Hm?"

......

Emma: (Why is this happening...)

???: "..."

(Who is this guy?)

Though I was supposed to be enjoying the event, savoring my first dorayaki in a while and strolling through the town,

I now found myself cornered by a man I didn't recognize.

(Could it be that I just don’t remember him...? Despite him being so eye-catching?)

With his fiery red hair tied up, expressionless emerald eyes, and the sweet, yet fleeting scent that enveloped him, there's no way I could forget him.

The man with the emerald eyes, who had been staring at me intently, slowly brought his well-defined face closer.

Emma: "Hey, there's a suspicious person here!"

???: "Suspicious? That's rude. I was just trying to stop you because you started running."

Emma: "Anyone would run if they realize they're being followed."

I try to escape, but he grabs both of my hands and holds them against the wall, blocking my way out.

(Since it’s come to this, I have no choice but to use what Owner taught me. It’s my first time doing it though…)

Silently apologizing in my mind, I kicked the man with the emerald eyes between the legs as hard as I could—or so thought.

???: "If you’re going to do that, create an opening first."

(Huh? This guy is NOT normal.)

In an instant, the man with the emerald eyes tangled his leg around mine, thwarting my movement.

Words of desperation raced through my mind.

???: " Also, your gaze dropped too low. What good does it do to let your opponent know that your next move is to kick them?"

Emma: "S-sorry?"

(No, wait, why am I being coached right now?)

???: "More importantly, did you forget something?"

Emma: "Huh? Forgotten something...?"

???: "What are you doing?"

(That voice...!)

I turn my face towards the familiar, low, calm voice.

Standing there like a godsend is Prince Keith, the first prince of Jade.

Back when he visited Rhodolite as a royal guest while I was serving as a Belle to select the next king,

I remember being comforted and saved many times by his sincere and boundless kindness, despite his lack of confidence.

(But, Prince Keith has a secret that he can't tell anyone...)

Prince Keith cautiously closes the distance between us.

The usual gentle and calm atmosphere fades away, and is replaced by a glare towards the man with the emerald eyes.

Keith: "I heard your voice and came here. You, move away from her."

(I’m saved...)

Emma & ???:

"Prince Keith..."

"Keith, huh?"

(... Huh?)

Keith: "Huh? Kagari? And Emma?!

(Kagari...? Does that mean he knows Prince Keith?)

Keith: "Why are you two in Jade...? No, more importantly, why are you in such a position...?"

Keith looks back and forth between me and the man with the emerald eyes, and suddenly begins waving his hands in a flustered manner.

His cheeks seem to be slightly flushed and… I have a bad feeling about this.

Keith: "I'm sorry, I had no idea you two were acquainted like that, I... I... I've interfered."

(I knew it, he did misunderstand!)

Keith: "Just ignore me like the annoying weed I am."

Keith: "Or rather, I should disappear as soon as possible, right? Uh, um, best of luck to you both!"

Emma: "Wait, Prince Keith, it's a misunderstanding. Please help me!"

Keith: "Huh?"

...

Emma: "I'm sorry for calling you a suspicious person when you were just trying to return my wallet."

In a café—after the waiter finished taking our orders and left, I immediately bowed deeply as if grabbing onto the table.

Kagari: "It's fine, raise your head."

Keith: "Kagari?"

Kagari: "Sorry for trailing you and cornering you against the wall."

Kagari: "If there's ever a next time, I'll call out to you even if you're eating dorayaki."

Emma: "Ah, so that's why you didn't call out immediately. Thank you for your consideration."

Keith: "Even after all that... Emma, you're truly a generous woman. Thank you."

After showing a relieved expression on his face, Prince Keith clears his throat softly.

Keith: "Now that the misunderstanding is cleared up, let me properly introduce him."

Keith: "This is Kagari Amagase, the second prince of Kogyoku."

Keith: "Jade and Kogyoku have had exchanges since ancient times, so Kagari and I have known each other since childhood."

Emma: "I see!"

(That's why their interaction seemed so relaxed, like they're comfortable with each other.)

Keith: "If I remember correctly, wasn't it when the king had you brought from Kogyoku to train me, Kagari?"

Kagari: "Yeah. You had spirit, but you were surprisingly weak."

(I've seen Keith training with Licht before, so it's hard to imagine him being weak.)

Keith: "Those hellish training sessions were unique, both then and now."

Keith: "Those memories are nostalgic..."

From his wry smile, I could tell the training had been extremely harsh.

Keith: "In return for the training, I taught Kagari about medicinal herbs."

Kagari: "Kogyoku is always bustling with injured people, so knowledge of medicinal herbs comes in handy."

(Kogyoku is still a country constantly at war.)

(And Kagari is also feared as a demon.)

From appearances alone, you wouldn't guess it, but his expressionless emerald eyes reflect nothing, which made him a bit intimidating.

Keith: "Kagari, this is Emma, a friend I met in Rhodolite."

Keith: "I know it might sound presumptuous for a giant guy like me to call someone like you my friend."

Emma: "If anything, I might be the presumptuous one. But I'm glad you consider me a friend, Prince Keith."

Keith: "R-really? That's... I'm glad."

His shy smile made me smile in return.

(Prince Keith always brings comfort no matter the situation.)

Kagari: "Rhodolite... Ah."

Kagari: "So that sweet scent earlier was the smell of roses. They bloom year-round there."

Kagari: "Cherry blossoms also bloom all year round in Kogyoku. We're like flower buddies."

Emma: "Right, I guess so."

Keith: "Oh, that sounds nice. Since Jade is also abundant in nature, maybe we could join the club?"

Kagari: "If you join, it'll be more like being plant buddies than flower buddies."

Keith: "That suddenly took away the cuteness... It's sad, but I'll decline joining."

(Prince Keith seems quite disappointed...)

Waiter: "Sorry for the wait."

(Wow...)

The waiter leaves, and I glance at the table.

In front of me is a mille-feuille, in front of Prince Keith is a thick galette with various flavors to enjoy,

And in front of Kagari is a stack of dorayaki.

(I thought the "Dorayaki Tower" was just a joke of a name, but it's quite literal.)

Emma: "I never imagined there would be such whimsical sweets in Jade."

Keith: "The pastry chef here is from Kogyoku, you see. They put it on the secret menu at Kagari's request."

Emma: "I see... What a thoughtful gesture."

Kagari: "Thank you for the food."

After saying a silent prayer, Kagari begins to slice the dorayaki with a knife and quietly starts eating.

His flawless eating style mesmerized me, as it maintained a perfect balance even though it looks like it might collapse at any moment.

Kagari: "Princess."

Emma: "Huh? Princess? Did you mean me—ugh!"

Keith: "..."

In the blink of an eye, the dorayaki is stuffed into my mouth.

Despite feeling flustered, the gentle sweetness of the red bean paste spreads in my mouth as I chew.

Kagari: "Which do you prefer, the dorayaki you had from the mobile vendor or this one?"

Emma: "I, I like them both. By the way, the dorayaki I had was also with smooth red bean paste."

Kagari: "......I'll buy some tomorrow."

(Maybe they were sold out, and he couldn't have any.)

(Kagari is... unpredictable in both thought and action.)

Keith: "Dorayaki is highly effective for Kagari, so it's good to remember just in case something happens."

Emma: "Understood. I'll make sure to remember it well."

Keith: "Right. Emma told us why she came to Jade earlier, but what about you, Kagari?"

Kagari: "I'm hunting someone down."

Next

▼・ᴥ・▼

[genshin-impact-updates]

"Teyvat's Special Delivery" Genshin Impact 4th Anniversary Web Event Now Online

With the festival approaching and a surge in deliveries, come and help Kirara deliver packages to share heartfelt wishes to everyone~

There's a special package waiting for you too!

>> Click to Take Part in Event <<

〓Event Duration〓

2024/09/27 – 2024/10/07 23:59:59 (UTC+8)

*Rewards cannot be claimed after the event ends. Please claim them in time.

〓Eligibility〓

Travelers who have reached Adventure Rank 10 or above can participate in this event.

〓Event Description〓

Travelers can obtain packages by completing tasks and choose the corresponding recipient to deliver the packages to different areas. When delivering the packages, you will also receive a gift from the recipient.

Complete all the package deliveries to unlock your anniversary gift, which includes a reward of Primogems ×40 and an exclusive fourth anniversary recipe!

〓Obtaining Packages〓

1. There are a total of 6 packages that need to be delivered to different areas, with each area receiving only one package.

2. Travelers can obtain packages by completing the following tasks: perform corresponding actions in Genshin Impact, such as daily logins or claiming commission rewards, or outside the game by watching Natlan trailers, visiting official social media, etc.

*Packages obtained from completing tasks need to be collected manually in the event page. Packages earned through daily tasks that have not been collected will also be reset when daily tasks are refreshed the next day, so remember to collect them!

*Daily Tasks will reset daily at 04:00. If Travelers try to visit the event around this time, they may encounter a brief network error. Please refresh the page if you encounter this error.

*After completing the package deliveries for all areas, you can continue to complete tasks and still receive packages, but you will no longer be able to make additional deliveries.

〓Delivering Packages〓

1. After obtaining a package, Travelers can click on any area to make a delivery. Based on the recipient information on the package slip, select the correct recipient to start the delivery.

2. After delivering the package, Travelers will receive a gift from the recipient.

3. After completing all the package deliveries, Travelers will also receive a mysterious gift and an anniversary card. Sharing any anniversary card will earn you Mora ×20,000.

*If the recipient is selected incorrectly, the system will provide a prompt, and Travelers can choose again.

*Each area can only receive one package delivery.

*After successfully starting a delivery, the number of deliverable packages will be automatically deducted. Travelers can enter the delivery area repeatedly until the package is delivered.

〓Event Rewards〓

1. The first time Travelers deliver a package to each area, they will receive in-game item rewards.

2. The full set of rewards include: Primogems ×40, exclusive 4th Anniversary Recipe "Delights of Wondrous Wanderings" ×1, Mystic Enhancement Ore ×5, Hero's Wit ×3, Sanctifying Unction ×3, Candied Ajilenakh Nut ×1, Rainbow Macarons ×1, Sprayfeather Gill ×3, and Mora ×20,000.

*The fourth anniversary event-exclusive recipe "Delights of Wondrous Wanderings" can only be obtained through this web event and is not available through any other means.

*The in-game rewards will be distributed via in-game mail. The mail will expire after 30 days, so don't forget to claim the rewards in time.

*This web event is provided purely for entertainment. It is not indicative of any related gameplay features in Genshin Impact.

[navybrat817]

Like There's No Tomorrow

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: When you make a rash decision after you're passed over for a promotion again, Bucky encourages you to follow your dream. It's the start of an unforgettable journey. Word Count: Over 3.4k Warnings: Insecurities, impulsivity, reflecting, slight angst, slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning and the best, okay?). A/N: Writing this was very personal and therapeutic after my recent work experience. While I can't actually live this life, I know Firecracker and Daredevil will have many adventures together. Also for @the-slumberparty's Eight Types of Love Challenge (Ludus - Road Trip / Surprise)❤️ Thanks to the beautiful @whisperlullaby for the encouragement and @buckyownsmylife for giving this intro a look and assuring me it wasn't garbage, but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @saradika. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You quit your job on a Friday afternoon.

On paper, it appeared to be an ordinary day. Nothing different from your usual routine. You got up, brushed your teeth, showered, dressed yourself, gave your boyfriend a kiss, selected a caffeinated beverage, and got to work. While you wouldn't call your job your dream job and some of the tasks were monotonous, you were good at it and you cared about your teammates.

In fact, they were one of the reasons you stuck around for as long as you did.

“Just wanted to say you've done a lot for us and we wouldn't be where we are without you.”

“I’m so sorry. I hope this doesn’t get you down.”

“I wish there was something I could say to make you feel better.”

“For what it’s worth, they made a mistake.”

Tears filled your eyes as you looked through the messages a few of your teammates sent after the promotion announcement was made minutes ago. There was an overall mixture of surprise and confusion when they heard you didn’t get it. They knew how hard you worked to move up and how badly you wanted it. You wished you hadn’t gotten your hopes up since that usually led to disappointment.

Of course, you were happy for the candidate who got the job. It wasn’t their fault you didn’t advance. Their success called for celebration. It didn’t make it any easier for you though and it didn’t lessen the hurt that you were passed over once again for something you were more than qualified for.

You somehow held it together though, not wanting everyone around you to see you break. Crying was reserved for the bathroom, your car, and home. Plus, you had shown enough vulnerability to management during the lengthy process and aftermath. They didn’t deserve an ounce more.

Especially after you were told that the value you provided wasn’t enough.

“I know this outcome is disappointing, but this isn’t a setback. You still have a lot to be proud of,” your manager told you the day before when you received the email entailing that you didn't receive the promotion and why. “Take the feedback we’ve given you and use that to get to the next level next time.”

He was only trying to help, but who would want to try again when they’re told they aren’t enough more than once? If the intention was to fuel your fire, they snuffed it out. Then again, your feelings were so raw because you hadn’t given yourself enough time to digest the news. Being told you were just out of reach was salt in the open wound, stinging much more than it should have as you tried to figure out what you did wrong.

Because you had to have done something wrong, right? Were the words you wrote in your application not eloquent enough? Did you not display the right amount of confidence in your interview? Why were you always on the cusp of greatness, but never quite there?

Blinking the moisture from your eyes, you straightened up and began to type again. Personal feelings aside, you had a job to do. You needed the income. You also had to prove that they were wrong in overlooking you. Again.

But as the sound of your fingers flying across the keyboard became white noise in your head, Bucky’s words from earlier in the morning shimmered into your mind.

“Just quit, Firecracker. They don’t deserve you and you deserve better.”

Bucky Barnes, your boyfriend. The kind of man you didn’t think was real until he came into your life. Gorgeous, faithful, doting, protective - you thought men like that only existed in books. He supported and hyped you up every time you went for a promotion and wiped away every tear when you didn’t get it. Your crying and self-doubt broke his heart and this morning may have been the last straw for him.

Maybe it was the last straw for you, too.

Glancing around the office as you saw everyone else typing with minimal conversation, the room had never looked more lifeless to you. There was nothing about the place or the job that inspired you, so why continue to give yourself over to a place that didn’t give back to you in return? Why stay in a place that dulled your shine?

The sudden realization hit you square in your chest that you didn’t want to be there anymore.

“Have a great weekend, team. Good luck and thanks for everything.” You sent in a message before you could stop yourself.

You had never had an out-of-body experience before, but it was as if your spirit was beside you as you began to close the programs on your computer. Glancing at your desk after you set your phone to voicemail, you realized you had hardly any personal touches in your space. Except for the photo of you and Bucky.

He was your one bright spot in the building.

With the utmost care, you put the photo in your bag once you shut everything down. Your heart sank as your gaze swept over your team, an uncomfortable pit settling in your stomach as you went to see your boss. Disappointing anyone always brought you a sense of dread and you didn’t want to let him or anyone else down, but you were thinking of yourself for once.

You owed yourself that.

“Hey,” your boss smiled as he glanced up from his desk before he noticed you had your bag. You shifted on your feet when his cheerfulness shifted to concern. “What’s up? Are you clocking out early?”

“Not exactly,” you answered, gripping your bag so hard your hand began to ache.

“Is everything okay?” He asked, leaning forward in his seat.

You didn’t know how to respond because it wasn’t okay and nothing he could say or do would change how you felt. You didn't want him to try and sway you to stay. The heartbreaking part was that he was, overall, a good boss. He taught you a lot and helped you better yourself. So did the team as a whole. They were rock stars. Each and every one of them.

But now they weren’t enough to make you stay and maybe it was a blessing in disguise that you didn’t go anywhere with your job.

So with a bittersweet smile, you uttered, “I quit. I’m sorry.”

You tossed your building key onto his desk and turned away before he could reply. Your mind raced as you put one foot in front of the other and ignored the stares of your coworkers who caught on to what had just transpired. It was hard to breathe, but your steps for once felt light instead of heavy. Your boss may have called out for you, but you didn’t dare look back. Not when you couldn’t stay in there another minute.

What you didn’t expect was for Bucky to be waiting outside as you went out of the door.

Your boyfriend managed to take your breath away every time you saw him and today was no exception. All 6’4” of him, he decided to cover his beefy frame with one of his favorite leather jackets, a fitting shirt, and tight jeans. His stormy eyes zeroed in on you as he pushed away from his old pickup truck and ran a hand through his chestnut hair. He was stunning.

He was yours.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” you blurted out as you raced toward him. “Get me out of here. Please.”

But why was he there? You didn’t plan to meet up with him until after work and your shift was only a little over halfway over. Did he want to surprise you?

He caught you easily with his large hands before you could stumble into him. “Whoa, easy. Get in,” he said, opening the passenger door and helping you in. Your hands trembled as you buckled yourself in, your body in flight mode because you had to get away from the office. He wasted no time getting in and peeling out of the parking lot, the building becoming smaller and smaller in the distance.

You weren’t even sure how far away he drove before he pulled over and stopped the car since you didn’t look behind you. Resting your shaking hands on your thighs, the high of walking out dissipated until it left you cold. Reality sank in. Would it pull you under?

“Talk to me,” Bucky urged, his voice calm and gentle instead of demanding. “Please?”

“I quit my job,” you whispered, your gaze set in front of you, but not seeing anything in focus. “I couldn't do it anymore.”

Bucky leaned over to turn your face toward him, sympathy and understanding filling his eyes. “Oh, baby, I knew today would be the tipping point. Waited most of the morning for you to walk out,” he said. You were about to question how he could possibly know that, but he could read you better than anyone. “Just a feeling I had.”

“I quit my job. I quit,” you said again, your breathing more shallow than before he engulfed you in a warm and grounding embrace. Your fingers twisted in his jacket as you breathed him in. Sandalwood and citrus were scents you now associated with love because of him. “What did I do?! I didn’t even give notice. I just tossed my card down and left. Fuck, I just burned my bridges with everyone there.”

You stifled a sob as you hid your face in his neck. You swore to yourself that you would never be that person who walks out on a job, but you did just that and screwed over your entire team. Would any of them understand why you did it or accept an apology? How long would it take for that guilt to go away since you essentially gave up after the words of kindness and encouragement they gave you?

“Breathe, baby. I’ve got you” he whispered, rubbing your back as you steadied yourself. “Yeah, you quit today. And maybe you burned a bridge, maybe not. But I couldn’t be fucking prouder of you.”

“You’re proud that I walked out on my team?” You asked, whipping your head up so fast you were lucky you didn’t get whiplash. “They don’t deserve to deal with that. Not to mention, I have nothing lined up.”

The thought of starting over again made your stomach drop again. The job market could be a terrifying and hopeless place. What if you couldn’t find anything? Or what if you burned through your savings by the time you did?

“I’m proud that you walked away from something keeping you down. After everything you’ve done for them, I’m sure most of them will get why you couldn’t do it anymore,” he assured you, the corners of his lips turning down when you sniffled. “And don't worry about not having something lined up. We'll figure it out.”

“We?” You questioned. Bucky was your boyfriend, but this wasn’t his problem.

“Yeah, we,” he said, pointing between the two of you with his forefinger. “You and me. I'm in this with you.”

Your heart melted before logic tried to take back over. “I should just go back there and apologize. I can say that I-”

He framed your face and pressed his warm lips to yours before you could say another word. He coaxed you to return the kiss with ease and you responded with parted lips and a sigh. His kisses left you lightheaded as sparks ignited, threatening to explode if you went much further. Which was why he stopped to let you catch your breath.

“No. You’re not doing that,” he said, his scruff tickling your forehead as he pressed a kiss there. He knew that was a weakness of yours and it instantly stopped you from arguing. “We're going on an adventure and we can’t do that if you’re chained to a desk.”

“An adventure?” You repeated with uncertainty.

“Yeah. We’re going to drive and see where it takes us,” he said, his lips touching your forehead once more before he started up the car again. “Just need to grab a couple of things before we go.”

“What about work for you?”

“It’s taken care of,” he assured you. He wasn’t the type of guy to lie, but when did he have time to plan this? Neither one of you had mentioned going anywhere.

Leave it to Bucky to do something impulsive to make you happy.

“Okay,” you said, trusting him and deciding to play along with his endeavor. “You said we need a couple of things. What do we need? Besides the essentials.”

“Your laptop. And a journal if you don't feel like typing.”

You refrained from rolling your eyes. “Yeah, yeah. I know. My laptop so I can apply for new jobs and pray that they don’t reach out to my now previous boss as a reference, right?”

“Oh, no,” he chuckled, a playful smirk on his face when you swung your head toward him. “The laptop is so you can write like you've always wanted to. And the journal if you prefer to write some of your thoughts and ideas down by hand.”

“Wait. You want me to write on this trip?” You asked, making sure you heard him correctly.

“Yeah, I do.”

Your eyes nearly bulged out of your head. You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. Your boyfriend was certifiably crazy, but you loved that about him. “Bucky, no. I can't just write,” you said.

“Why not?” He shrugged.

“Because it doesn't pay the bills or provide security,” you replied.

Writing was a silly hobby that you did from time to time to help you channel your emotions or escape from the real world. At best, it was a dream. Nothing more. He knew that. At least, you thought he knew that.

At the end of the day, it wouldn’t put a roof over your head or food in your stomach. How were you expected to hold onto dreams that wouldn’t take you anywhere? And at what point did you stop believing in them and yourself?

When did you start thinking so cynically?

“But working a job you're not passionate about just to provide safety is the better option? There’s a difference between doing something you love and doing something you’re good at when your heart isn’t in it. You’ve done the latter for years now,” He said with a huff as you inhaled. “That isn't living and you’re lying to yourself if you think it is.”

Your eyes narrowed as his words sank in, your shackles raising. “No, it isn’t living, but it’s the most practical thing I can do! And, yeah, I am good at my job because I worked my ass off!” You argued, taking a breath. You didn’t want to start crying or snap at him when he was right. “Or at least I was good at my job. And I would’ve done my best had I advanced, but I couldn’t even accomplish that.”

Which begged the question of why you applied. The higher title and pay would’ve been nice for recognition and comfortability. You believed you earned it. But was it what you wanted to do for the rest of your life? Was that your path when you looked toward your future?

You hadn’t taken into account your own desires and values.

“Hey,” he said softer than before. “I wasn’t trying to-”

“And say I do try and write for real. How can I even enjoy this adventure knowing I'm probably just going to fail again?” You asked in a small voice.

How many hits could you take before your armor cracked?

Bucky's jaw clenched. “And that's exactly why I'm glad you finally quit. You've had so many people over your head telling you that what you do isn't enough to achieve what you want. And now you believe it,” he said, his hands gripping the steering wheel hard enough that you feared he’d bend it with his strength. “Fuck that and fuck them for making you feel that way.”

Your mouth fell open as you stared, his fury for and defense of you making your chest tighten. “I…”

“Why can’t you be a writer, huh? Why not try? You’re talented and I’m not just saying that to make you feel better. That’s where your heart is and it shows with every word,” He pressed, knowing you put your whole self into your creative outlet. “And, listen, we have money set aside for the time being and more than enough for this excursion. So I don’t care if writing doesn’t pay the bills for a while as long as you’re happy and doing what you’re passionate about. We’ll have each other and that’s enough in my eyes.”

Contemplating his words, you had to give him credit. The job wasn’t something you did because you were passionate about it. You did it because it was safe and expected of you when in many ways it held you back. Besides, what did you have to lose at this point? If you didn’t try, you’d never know. You’d look back one day and regret it if you let the chance pass you by.

Why not do something impulsive?

Why not make the most out of the moment you were in?

“Okay. You’re right. I should try to write and we should go,” you nodded, taking a deep breath. “Let’s grab a few things and see where this trip takes us.”

“There she is,” he smiled over at you, making your heart swell. “There’s my Firecracker.”

The nickname would always warm your heart. “You know, this actually sounds a bit like that book idea I had the other day,” you said, excitement seeping through your veins. Your fingers twitched a bit, too, with the urge to write. “Do you remember? I told you about it while we were eating pizza.”

Bucky took one hand from the steering wheel to grab yours. “I remember everything you've ever said.”

“Flattery will get you everything, Daredevil,” you said, biting your lip to keep from smiling too wide. “So, we're really doing this. We're just leaving?”

“Not just leaving. We're taking a long overdue road trip," he says, bringing your hand to his mouth to kiss it. “You deserve it.”

“We both do,” you said, the uncertainty leaving your body more with each passing second. You even turned off your phone so you wouldn’t be tempted to look at any emails or messages. “We deserve to live today like there’s no tomorrow.”

“‘Like there’s no tomorrow’,” Bucky quoted back to you with a hum. “Sounds like a good book title.’

“I’ll have to write it down so I don’t forget,” you smiled, linking your fingers together. “And don’t forget your journal, too. I don’t want you to miss a thing.”

“I won’t forget it,” he promised.

“Bucky?” You asked, swallowing as he gazed over at you. “Thank you. Really.”

It felt like you could breathe again without a weight in your chest. You didn't feel perfect, but you felt good. All thanks to him. You didn’t know what you’d do without him.

“You don’t need to thank me, baby, but I should thank you for letting me take you away,” he winked, keeping your hand in his as he faced forward again. “Makes me feel like a real hero, even though you wouldn't let me storm the castle.”

Oh, he wanted so badly to go off on your manager, but there was no need. “You are a hero,” you said. He saved you without knowing. “But try not to speed, Daredevil. I don’t want us to get pulled over before we get started.”

He groaned, but nodded as he let off the gas. “I’ll try not to speed. Need to make sure I get you to where we’re going safely.”

“I trust you.”

You would find out soon enough that Bucky had a list of things written in his journal that he planned to do with you on this trip. Everything you had ever said in passing that you wanted to do or try, but never could because of work. Because he paid attention to you. And you were right.

You deserved to live today like there’s no tomorrow.

And he wanted to be by your side while you lived your best life.

So, lovelies, where are they doing on their trip first? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[exhaslo]

Kinktober Day 6

(Bully!Grimmjow x TeachersPet!Reader)

Summary: You were given the role of making sure everyone attends a mandatory school assembly.

Warning: MINORS DNI, smut, groping, dirty talking, grinding

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

This was horrible.

You were great at everything, so much so, that the teachers relied on you a bit too much. There was a mandatory school assembly and it was required for everyone to join. You had managed to get a good chunk of students to go...

So the teachers decided to have you convince the delinquents.

Now, as much as you wanted to refuse the task, you couldn't. Your difficult task led you to facing each of the Espada gang. Students in the school that broke different rules for their own benefit. They were a frustrating group to deal with.

Lucky enough, all you had to do was convince a select few for the others to follow.

Except for Grimmjow.

The man was avoiding you and purposely ignoring you. The assembly was almost approaching. Following the cyan haired man, you huffed and puffed as you watched him snicker.

"Grimmjow! Please, I just need a moment...of your time!" You huffed, chasing the frustrating man.

"Hah, wha's wrong? Runnin' outta breathe?" He snorted.

"I am!!!"

After another corner turn, you had to stop and catch your breathe. Your cheeks were probably red from the heat. Feeling a presence before you, you looked up and saw Grimmjow smirking above you.

"Well? Cat at yer tonged?"

"Hah, Grimmjow...You are needed....at the assembly," You huffed, standing before him, "Please."

"Hm? I suppose I could...if ya do somethin' for me." Grimmjow said with a low hum. You furrowed your brows,

"And what could I do for the school bully? I'm not going to help you cheat."

"Nah, got somethin' better in mind." Grimmjow chuckled lowly, pulling you closer into the alley, "Don't think I can't see how ya rub yer legs whenever ya look at me."

"H-Huh?!"

Your cheeked started to burn as Grimmjow whispered in your ear. Biting your lip, you tried to think of something to say back. Just as he caught you, you could feel heat between your legs.

"Hehe, look at ya now. Caught like a deer in headlights. C'mon teacher's pet. What cha gotta say now?"

"I-I don't know...w-what you're talking about! We need-"

"To find a solution to both our problems," Grimmjow nibbled against your ear as his hands started to grab and squeeze your ass, "You want me, and I want you."

"G-Grimmjow! We're in public!" You hushed, your heart racing.

Grimmjow just grumbled into your ear as his hands kept playing with you. You gasped softly as Grimmjow pulled you against him, pressing your crotch against his.

His hands slowly sliding up your shirt. His tongue sliding against your ear down to your neck, causing you to shudder and gasp. His breathe was so hot against you. His touch was rough, yet wanting.

"There ya go. What a naughty girl." Grimmjow chuckled.

You wanted to complain, but Grimmjow crashed his lips against yours. Your eyes widen for a moment before closing and letting him ravish and dominate your mouth.

You whimpered as you felt his crotch press against yours, a large bulge poking against his pants. This was making your heart race. This was something you could only ever dream of. You really thought you had no chance with Grimmjow.

"Hehe, like the idea of me ruinin' ya?" Grimmjow snickered, his hands sliding under your bra and pinching your nipples, "Won't lie, makin' the teacher's pet mine...just feels so right."

"Hah~ Y-You wish." You whimpered softly. Grimmjow raised a brow and lifted you against his crotch, grinding into you, "A-Ah~"

"Awe? Wha were ya sayin'?"

You were hot and wet. Grimmjow was grinding his bulge against your panties. The heat of the fabric turning you on even more. His lips capturing yours in a deep kiss as his tongue tasted every part of your mouth. His hands toying with your breasts.

"Fuck, who would have known how sexy ya were." Grimmjow groaned as he took a step back, "I'll go to the assembly...if we continue this in yer dorm room." His smirk growing wide.

"W-Why not yours?" You asked, a little disappointed that he stopped.

"Because if ya ever wanna make it to yer next class," Grimmjow pressed against your crotch again, his grinding rougher than before, "Yer gonna need me to stop."

"Mhm~" You gripped onto Grimmjow's shoulders, enjoying the friction once more. Your cunt fluttering with each rub, "O-Okay, b-but can...can you just...hn~ A little more~"

"My dirty little pet," Grimmjow chuckled darkly.

You whined softly as Grimmjow continued. His grinding getting rougher with each thrust, causing you to feel a pool of heat form. You shuddered and gasped, your body moving with his, quietly begging for more. Grimmjow just chuckled before coming to a halt once more,

"Heh, let's go to yer dorm now."

"Okay~"

Needless to say, you both missed the assembly.

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

Hope you enjoyed!!!

Kinktober Masterlist

[kenziebluex]

Alpha, Beta or Omega - JJK Men

(18+)

Headcanons of jjk men and whether they are an alpha, beta, or omega. Including traits & kinks for each description.

Minors do not interact. 

✿❀○❀✿

Alpha (Top/Dominant)

Alpha males are very vigilant, they may not respond to threats right away but will keep a sharp eye out from a respectable distance. They don’t like too many people in their space at once and only allow a select few people to get close enough to them. The one thing they value the most is trust. If an alpha feels they can’t trust you then brace yourself for the backlash. They will attack people foolish enough to venture out on their own and those who try to provoke unnecessary violence. 

In the bedroom alphas are the leaders and take control. They dont mind guiding and ordering their mate on how they would like to be pleasured. Alphas prefer filthy rough sex but they also enjoy cuddling with their mates afterwards. For alphas the whole point of sex is to stake their claim. They have no problem showing you that you belong to them and only them. 

Traits: Confident, Self-Assured, Quiet, & Observant 

Kinks: Rough Sex, Knotting, Hair Pulling, Choking, Bondage, & Dirty Talk

Kento Nanami, Toji Fushiguro, Hiromi Higuruma, & Ryomen Sukuna

✿❀○❀✿✿❀○❀✿✿❀○❀✿✿❀○❀✿✿❀○❀✿✿❀○❀✿

Beta (Switch)

Beta males are the second in command. They don’t mind following orders but tend to only follow orders from a select few people. They are in charge of commanding smaller groups of people and they are responsible for making sure those small groups are succeeding at the task they are given. The one thing they value the most is honesty. 

Just like when they are hunting, betas are wild in the bedroom. They are willing to try out different positions and different kinks. Betas are very versatile. Their main focus in the bedroom is pleasing their mate whether that mate is above them or below them it doesn’t matter when it comes to giving their mate pleasure. They are great explorers and love to explore the body of their mate. Beta have a goal in the bedroom and that is to find out what spot brings their mate the most pleasure. 

Traits: Playful, Compassionate, Idealistic, & Cautious

Kinks:Versatile, Teasing, Sex Toys, Exhibitionism, Anal Fingering, & Oral Sex

Satoru Gojo & Suguru Geto

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Omega (Bottom/Submissive)

Omega males are the lowest ranked member in the pack. While some people refer to them as the “bitch” of the pack they are actually the most important. Omegas look out for the younger members of the group and take care of the needs of the alphas. They are used to diffuse hostility and lower tension that the rest of the pack members may have caused. They value peace the most. Omegas are considered weaker when it comes to fighting but they use their skills wisely and are good strategists. 

The bedroom and omegas go hand in hand. Omegas love being good stress relievers. They focus solely on the pleasure of their partner while secretly catering to themselves. They enjoy having their mate believe that they are in control of the situation when actually the omega is the reason they are even in the position they find themselves in. 

Traits:Caregiver, Careful, Flexible, & Disciplined 

Kink: Multiple Orgasms, Dry Humping, Begging, & Clingy Sex

Choso Kamo & Takuma Ino

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-Des