#skull complains!!! why does he get all this!?!?

[readwritealldayallnight]

The men working on his crew today are too loud, too boisterous, too young, too content to stand around blabbering, taking the piss instead of doing their actual jobs

Getting into construction work following retirement from the SAS wasn’t exactly the idyllic image of sipping a daiquiri on the beach that his thick stack of discharge papers had painted in his head

But it kept his hands occupied and his mind busy, his daily stressors having shifted from cleaning blood out of his gear and patching broken bones every other day, to instead complaining about the rising price of lumber and pulling splinters out on occasion

Trading in his AR for a nail gun, swapping his tac vest for a tool belt, even turning in his skull mask for a hard hat, was surprisingly an easier adjustment than he’d predicted, the long hours and physical work meant he was too exhausted by the time he got home to spend much time doing anything other than preparing for the next day, a never ending cycle that kept him from being still for too long

It might have been some time since Simon Riley was on a battlefield, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t still play the hero every once in a while

He’s stood at the top of a ladder, wiping the sweat off his brow as his other hand pats agains this tool belt, searching for the one tool he’s certain he forgot to bring up with him

“Pass me the claw head hammer will y-” Simon cuts himself off from asking the lad stood below him, when he notices he’s only talking to himself. Squinting through the glare of the afternoon sun shining in his eyes, he glances around the job site until he spots most of his crew gathered near the front gates

He rolls his eyes to himself as he begins making his way back down to solid ground, having spotted what had the men so distracted : a pretty bird stood on the other side of the fence

Simon can admit to himself, even he likes to partake in the occasional bird watching, he is just a man at the end of the day, but not when there’s work to be done, and they’re already more than a week behind on this job

“Alright you tossers, back to it!” He shouts to be heard over the group of men, a chorus of groans and grumbles echoing out before they’re slowly dispersing

“Ach, we were jus’ helpin ‘er out, sir!” A man who sounds like he’s been smoking all his life croaks out as he walks by

“Here, miss. He’s the one that might be able to give you an answer.” One of the younger men on the crew says, pointing a gloved hand in Simon’s direction

He follows the younger man’s gaze, expecting to find another curious bystander peeking at the work, perhaps a nosy neighbour who wants to know why such a mess is being made, hell maybe even one of the hens from the nearby college stopping by for a quick flirt

He’s prepared to offer a professional nod, maybe even a begrudging ‘Alright?’ if it appeases them, before he’ll be excusing himself back to the job, uninterested in getting home any later tonight than he already has to just to entertain some stranger

But of course, he doesn’t end up doing so, does he? Not when his hand comes up to block out the sun, his gaze peering through the chain link fence, and it’s you that his eyes land on

You, with your wide eyes fighting to appear confident, though the controlled panic running through them is clear to see from where Simon stands a few feet away from you

Your body tense as you push a small pram in place back and forth, back and forth, your attention jumping between the men and whoever must be tucked up under a pile of blankets in the stroller, presumably also the reason for your enticingly large cleavage, he allows himself think for a split second before averting his gaze

Simon sends the younger man away with a quick jut of his chin, before he’s taking a careful step towards you

“Wha’ can I help you with?” He tries in vain to mask the usual harshness in his tone, but with such a quick switch in his emotions it doesn’t come out sounding quite how he’d hoped, yet you don’t flinch away from him either

“I know-” you let out a frustrated breath, readjusting your grip on the pram’s handle as you steady yourself, locking eyes with his once again with a new vigour behind them this time around. “I know this is so silly of me, and I’m sure you’ve had lots of people botherin’ you, so uh, sorry for bein’ one of ‘em, but here I am.”

You let out a small chuckle to yourself, more self deprecating than anything else, but Simon finds himself offering the slightest bit of a smile in return, if only to ease your nerves

“Anyways, I can imagine you’re probably not allowed to tell but, uh, people have been saying this might be a daycare you’re building here.”

He knew what your question was going to be long before you’d opened your pretty mouth- everyone and their mother had been asking about the project

Limited childcare in the area meant that as soon as the first whispers of a new daycare being built had started to spread, parents and even parents to be had been poking their noses before shovels had even hit the ground

Opening his mouth to give you the same answer he’d given everyone before you, Simon finds the words dying on his tongue as the unmistakable sound of an upset baby comes from the pram, and a very small baby at that

“Shh, shh darling. It’s okay, baby. You’re alright, shh.” He can’t find it in himself not to step closer until he’s practically got his nose poking through the fence to get nearer to you both, eyes glued to the way your lips formed the sweet soothing words, peering towards the increasingly squirming bundle tucked away in the pram

“Tha’s a tiny one.” Simon practically whispers to himself, though he knows you’ve heard him when your eyes glance up to meet his. “Can’t be very old.” He remembers how small his nephew had been when he’d been born, and recognized that distinct newborn cry instantly.

“Just turned eight weeks.” You answer with a ghost of a proud smile dancing across your lips quickly as you gaze at your bundle of joy, a tidbit of information you would expect a new parent would be all too happy to talk about, though the elation quickly disappears from your face. “Unfortunately my job is uh, I have to go back to work soon, I’ve just really been needing to find a spot for her somewhere.”

“Have you told your boss to sod off?” He asks, biceps bulging as he crosses his arms and leans a shoulder against the fence. He doesn’t like that. Doesn’t like the idea of a pretty little bird being all worked up and stressed about finding her new little baby bird somewhere to stay because her job is trying to force her to come back so soon

He also recognizes the fact that he doesn’t know you, that you’ve been a stranger to him up until about 60 seconds ago, and that he shouldn’t go involving himself in things that don’t regard him, but there’s something about this, something about you, that has him asking more questions that he should

Simon hardly realizes the corners of his mouth trying to smile along when you let out a small chuckle at his question, before your answer has him set back into his usual scowl. “No, I wish it were that simple.” you try to laugh again, though the sound doesn’t quite reach your eyes as you push some hair out of your eyes, Simon’s fingers twitching at his side

“No, they’re not forcing me to come back, it’s more of a- I need to work again. Money doesn’t exactly make itself, and it’s just me and her so…” you trail off, offering a meek shrug before you avert your gaze from his and go to fiddle with the baby blankets. “There- there just aren’t any daycare spots anywhere, and the waiting lists are months if not years long. And she and I just don’t pass through this neighbourhood often, so I’m worried that once that sign goes up announcing this is a daycare, that the spots are going to be taken up before I even have a chance to-”

“S’alrigh, s’alright.” Simon interrupts your rambling, a hand raised slightly in the air as though you were a spooked animal he hoped to calm. having heard everything he needed to hear. You look up at him with such sincerity in your eyes, he can tell you would do anything for that baby, that you likely aren’t above begging and pleading at this point, alone with a baby and short on options, he knows what he’ll do. Had pretty much made up his mind soon as he saw you, but now he’s decided.

“Just you and her, you said?” He asks quietly, absentmindedly nodding along with you when you confirm his question. “Well, I mean, I can tell ye that yes, this is meant to be a daycare ‘ere.” He speaks hesitantly, watching as the hope builds in your eyes at his words. He brings a sweaty palm up to rub the back of his neck as he breaks the news to you.

“But I couldn’t tell ye anythin’ about who we’re buildin’ for, love.” He continues, the term of endearment slipping past his lips unconsciously. “They just give us the blueprints and we do our part. Don’t know nothin’ ‘bout what or who’s takin ownership.” He watches that same sliver of hope that had started to grow quickly be snuffed out as you take in what he means.

“Oh. Well, I guess it makes sense.” You reply, evidently disappointed but too kind to push, too used to the recent defeats to expect anything else. “Thank you anyways, really. I appreciate you-”

“I’ll find out.” Simon says quickly, preventing you from bidding him whatever goodbye you were about to give him, keeping you here just a little longer.

“W-what?”

“I’ll find out. Who we’re building for. I’ll find you a name.”

“I- I- I don’t even- you really don’t have to do that!”

“Doesn’t matter what I have to do. I want to. So I will.”

He watches your face carefully now, seeing how you glance up at him with a different sort of apprehension in your gaze, almost like you’re truly taking him in for the first time, discovering something you weren’t expecting to find in him.

“Well, thank you. Truly.” You tell him, a smile so genuine gracing your lips that Simon finds himself choosing to smile back at you. The moment doesn’t last long however, when the baby starts to fuss again, your attention being drawn back to her. “I know baby, I know. I’ve got to feed you soon.”

Simon can’t help the deep blush that creeps up his neck and across his cheeks, unsure if it’s the way he enjoyed hearing you say ‘I know baby, I know’ a little too much or the idea of his own lips helping to ease that heavy ache in your swollen breasts that has him momentarily flustered.

“Maybe I could-” he clears his throat, pointedly avoiding looking at your chest and maintaining eye contact instead. “Maybe I could get your number or email or somethin’, to get back to you that is.”

“Oh! Yes of course! Here,” you say, digging through your pockets until you fish out a wadded up receipt. Simon pulls the pencil that’d been resting over his ear down and gently slips it through the fence over to you, watching with rapt attention as you bring the tip to the paper and write down what might be the most important numbers Simon ever learns. “There’s my number.”

He takes the pencil back from you and carefully accepts the paper you hand him, looking down at the name and smiley face you’ve left as well, whispering your name to himself before meeting your eyes once more. Before he can change his mind, Simon is tearing off the end of the receipt that’s still blank, and begins writing down his own name and number on it.

“If I don’t get back to you by the end of the week, you use tha’ to knock some sense into me, alrigh’?” He asks, slipping you the paper. He knows there isn’t a chance in hell he would forget about reaching out to you, about following through on this, but again, there’s something about you he can’t quite put his finger on.

“Thank you, Simon.” You answer, reading the name off the note he’s just given you, a small chill running down his spine at the sound of his name leaving your lips, the way you say it like it’s a name worth knowing. “Seriously, I can’t even tell you wha-”

The both of you can’t help but chuckle together when the baby’s cries cut you off again, you offering a sheepish smile in apology along with a small shrug of ‘what can you do?’.

“I’ll let you go, someone needs you more.”

“Well, we’re both very grateful to you, Simon.”

He stands there longer than he really should, watching the two of you walk off until you’re out of sight. The note you slipped him though? Well, that he holds onto until he’s clocking out, and maybe on the drive home as well, and maybe it’s the first thing to ever be hung up on his fridge in his flat, that little smiley face reminding him why a little bird watching isn’t so bad after all

I dunno ladies is this something???

Edit : you all decided this was something so here’s part 2

[stunie]

NO BRAKES ! ᯓ⭑ 1.2K wc. ft. dabi x f!reader

summary: oh, so you wanna ask him “is that all you’ve got?” while he’s balls deep inside you and see what happens? here’s a lil hint for you: he’s not gonna be very happy with you.

contains : explicit smut (18+), brat taming, overstimulation, mentions of squirting, pet names, teasing, creampie, cw blood (his staple tore a lil bit), slight cw degradation (calls u dumb, but he also calls u cute !!), his dick has piercings <3, hate sex ??

note : okk here’s my response to this thirst ! ૮꒰ྀི∩´ ᵕ `∩꒱ྀིა

“Look at you,” you hear Dabi growl from just above you, his hand pushing your face deeper into your couch as soon as you’re trying to spit a slew of curses at him, “What’s the matter? That’s quite the face you’re making.”

His pace doesn’t falter, still relentless even when he’s jutting out his tongue to quickly swipe at the blood that’s begun to drip down the side of his mouth, the result of the way his lips are overly stretched in a scary smile— his mouth spreading a bit too far from the way he’s laughing at how you’re squealing underneath him. “S-shut up,” you try and bark back, voice trailing off into a loud gasp when he hits a particularly deep spot inside you. “It’s t-too much. You gotta.. gotta slow down..!”

“Aww, you poor, poor thing,” he’s feigning sympathy, a terrible job at it— but the thumb that was previously pressing into your cheek a moment ago is now rubbing soothing circles against the skin. It does absolutely nothing to comfort you, only making your eyebrow twitch in annoyance at the mere thought.

“But.. i wouldn’t be complaining if i was you, little girl.”

You can smell the familiar scent of smoke as soon as he’s lowering himself to loom over you, the cold staples that line his chest now pressing against your back as you shiver. The movement has him suddenly reaching even deeper inside you, your eyes rolling further back into your skull when you feel a mixture of his cum and your juices spill out onto the fabric beneath you.

He was big enough as is… had already emptied himself inside you once tonight, got you completely filled up to the brim and yet you’re still somehow able to vividly feel the piercings lining his dick drag along your walls with each and every thrust.

The same walls he’s been so insistent on training. The same walls he’s always having to force to stretch out for him, make them open up and accommodate his thickness. It’s always been a mystery to him as to why you— down to your pussy, always act like such a fucking brat with him. Just how many times has he taken you by now?

Bent you over your couch, your table, he’s even taken you right on your welcome mat. But no matter how many times he buries his cock in you, he still has to spend his time working his fingers in you, get you all stretched out and ready to take him.

How much longer’s it gonna take for your pussy to ingrain the shape of his dick in its little mind?

He wants to make that happen tonight.

You hear Dabi loudly grunt above you before he’s suddenly grabbing you by your face, fingers digging into your cheeks as he forces you to crane your neck and peer back of him, cock twitching when he sees you shoot him your best attempt a glare.

“Ahh, still a fuckin’ brat,” he acknowledges, “looks like our practice has been helping your stamina.” His voice is steady and low, and if it wasn’t for the hungry and crazed look in his eyes— one you can easily recognize as the same look he gets when he wants to see you screaming and shaking under him.. you’d probably think he was bored otherwise.

“You know… if you didn’t have such a cute face,” he’s leaning in, and he has to stifle a laugh when your eyes flutter shut in expectance. Oh— you cutie. Did you really think he was about to give you a little kiss?

How adorable of you. So you really can be sweet sometimes.

There’s a tight squeeze to your cheeks to get you back to looking at him, your tired eyes meeting with his again as your lips are forcefully puffing out in a pathetic pout from his grip. “There you are. Said that if you didn’t have that face, then it’d be my foot pushing your head down on that couch and not my hand.”

“Consider yourself lucky.”

“..Huh?” you ask incredulously, and he’s immediately taking back what he previously thought about you being sweet, not with that attitude you’re giving him. Your voice is breathless, and he can tell your mind has already started to go dizzy from how good he feels, but you still have your pride if nothing else— much to Dabi’s dismay. “Y-you’d better not..” you’re panting now, “put your grimy feet anywhere near my face.”

He only laughs. God, he’d never even dream of ruining that pretty face.

“Yea, yea,” he coos, abruptly letting go with a disappointed shrug of his shoulders as you yelp, hands coming to catch yourself as you fall back onto the couch. “Not that it’d even matter, dollface… ‘s not gonna change the way you’re looking right now.”

He doesn’t give you a chance to retort, hands gripping around your hips now as he repeatedly pulls you back into him, bullying his achy cock into you over and over, ecstatic with the way you have to scramble to get a tighter grip on the couch, keep yourself braced and grounded so he doesn’t fuck you right off onto the floor.

And you’re being so loud. Did you really even hate him? Your neighbors wouldn’t think so. In fact, no one in a one mile radius would think so.

They would think you loved him.

“How cute— you’re already looking ruined.” There’s a subtle shake to his voice, a tell-tale sign that he’s starting to get close to his high, and the way he’s slamming so deep inside you is only a second confirmation of that. “Completely ruined. How’s that feel?”

“‘M not,” you spit back, glare contorting to a lewd expression as soon as he finds the spot that’ll have you creaming in seconds. Close. You’re so close, and it’s always about now when he starts fucking you like you’re nothing but a toy.

“Yeah?” and you absolutely hate that you know him well enough to be able to tell that he’s grinning ear to ear at the way you’ve started to tremble under him. “You’d break into pieces if i took off the brakes.”

“But you asked for it huh? Want me to destroy you and turn you into my dumb little cocksleeve?” He’s louder now, raising his voice so you can hear him over the shrieking sound of your moans. “Don’t needa ask twice, doll. now shut that bratty mouth of yours up already.”

[spencerreidenjoyer]

let you lock me down (tonight) | spencer reid x reader

You'd never really thought about having kids, but Spencer just might change your mind.

wc: 600, rating: explicit/18+

tags: breeding kink (this is the whole premise of the fic. oops?), talk of having kids/pregnancy, established relationship, fem!reader, set in s10-11

a/n: no reason for this other than the fact that sabrina carpenter's juno is one of my fav songs off the short n' sweet album. also i was probably ovulating when i started this drabble sorryyyy

You know Spencer had wanted kids since you first got together.

It hadn’t come up until a few dates in, where Spencer had been a little late to dinner because he was helping to watch over his colleague’s kid. He’d talked for half the night about how much he adored her kid as his godfather, with his colleague having a second one on the way, and how he wanted to be a dad someday.

You would’ve found it more creepy if you weren’t extremely endeared. Spencer was undeniably loving, caring, and impossibly sweet, and dating him was easy. Being with Spencer is easy. You get him, and he gets you.

You know Spencer wants kids, and that’s why when you mention it you’re not surprised by how he reacts.

It just happens to be in the middle of sex.

“Fuck, baby,” you giggle, Spencer being extremely eager as he pushes into you. “You’re so needy. It’s like you wanna put a baby in me.” 

Spencer chokes, his hips stuttering at your filthy words, and it just pushes him deeper into your tightness. “Oh, my God.”

“Does that sound good? You filling me up with your cum until it takes?” you moan, as Spencer rolls his hips into you. It shoves his thick cock deeper inside of you, bullying his way past your tight walls. 

“You make me sound like an animal,” Spencer complains, but his breathlessness tells you that he’s into it. He’s still fucking into you – hard, eager, desperate.

“You could fuck me like an animal,” you swoon, just a little, rather pleased with yourself and the fact that Spencer is so into this, so into you. “Wanna claim me as yours?”

Spencer laughs, shaking his head. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

“Not before you get me pregnant,” you tease, waggling your eyebrows. “Come on, you know you want to.”

”You are literally insane,” Spencer says, stilling his hips. They’re pressed flush against you, but he looks down at you sternly. “Are you being serious right now?”

You purse your lips, considering Spencer’s own concerned look. “Kind of?”

”Kind of?” Spencer parrots back. “Be more specific.”

”Maybe I just wanna enable your breeding kink,” you smirk, locking your legs around Spencer’s waist. The movement pushes him inside of you a little deeper, and he whines. 

Spencer rolls his eyes, half exasperated and half endeared. “I don’t have a breeding kink.”

“You do, baby,” you giggle. “And getting pregnant wouldn’t be so bad.”

Spencer’s eyes are so wide they look like they could pop out of his skull. “You– You can’t just say things like that! And we are not having a conversation about family planning while I’m inside of you.”

”Now would be the perfect time to talk about having kids,” you offer, but Spencer glares at you.

Smiling, you wriggle your hips just to get a rise out of Spencer. It works, you note, as he whimpers with the movement. ”Okay, so after you’re done with me?” 

“We’ve only been dating for three months,” Spencer says, furrowing his brows. 

“I know,” you nod. “And I mean it. You— You make me want to. Consider kids, I mean.”

Spencer sighs, but you see the way his eyes soften, hear the warmth in his voice as he tries to seem normal and calm about all of this. “Okay. I’ll make you cum and then we can talk about kids.”

“Aww. How romantic,” you say, as Spencer leans forward to kiss you again, and to fuck you again.

While you’d never seriously thought about having kids, Spencer is certainly making you reconsider.

[jazzthatonewriterchick]

I Got That Good D*ck, Girl, You Didn’t Know? (Toji x F!Reader 18+ One Shot)

"Fuck you, Toji."

"Only if you pay me, doll. You won't regret it."

Pairing: Escort!Toji Fushiguro x Fem!Reader (Roommates to FWBs/Lovers)

Synopsis: Your asshole roommate and his interesting yet effective occupation are starting to keep you up at night...mostly because of how horny you are hearing him fuck his clients through your paper-thin walls. Lucky for you, your roomie knows just what to do to apologize for keeping his favorite working girl up and make you understand why so many people put in big bills for him and his business.

Warnings: Smutty Smut; 18+; Voyeurism; Masturbation (Alone & Mutual); Pervy!Reader; Sexual Tension; Coercion; Dubcon/R*pe; Cocky, Mean MDom!Toji x fsub!Reader; Toji Got a Big Ol' Dick; Sex Toy; Oral (Giving & Receiving); Spit on Pussy; Facefucking; Multiple Positions (Mating Press & Doggy); Feet on the Bed; LOUD Sex; Reader Cums 2x; Cum on Ass; Some Aftercare

Writer's Note: A bitch has been SO busy with work & school plus commissions, but I hope y'all enjoy this lil something about Toji's toxic, big dick havin' ass. I was listening to the Biggie song down below & started thinking about Toji lmaoo so this came to be. Enjoy! -Jazz

*************

"OH, TOJI, YES! HARDER!"

The woman's piercing voice drifts through your bedroom wall right above your head, accompanied by the annoying banging of the headboard repeatedly hitting the wall. Luckily, your head is in your pillow so you can't feel any of the wood pounding against your skull.

But damn, if this lady's shrill moans and screams aren't starting to give you a headache. You tired stare up at the ceiling to your bedroom as you have been for the past hour now since this stranger arrived at your shared apartment and ventured with your roommate to his bedroom that happens to be right next to yours.

You knew what the drill was. You always have. Your year-long roommate, Toji, is known for having "lady callers" blowing up his phone and coming at random hours of the night to "spend time with him".

Whether these ladies are clients or just partners for the evening, you have no idea. But you don't care either. None of that matters when all of them are loud as fuck and disturbing your sleep cycle.

"Yeah?" Toji teasingly asks, his deep, rasped voice drifting through your thin bedroom walls. "You like it like this, ya little slut?"

"No," you groan in a response. The mystery lady, whom you only know from her previous giggles when Toji was chatting her up with wine and extensive, colorful vocabulary when he was eating her pussy earlier, only mews in response.

This is enough to make Toji pound her faster, making the bedsprings creak and the headboard pound harder against the wall. The woman's moans and shrieks of pleasure grow louder, no doubt waking the neighbors on your apartment floor.

You can physically feel the bags under your eyes grow as you stare your alarm clock sitting beside you. 2:34 AM. You have to be up at 6 AM to get to work by 8 for a meeting tomorrow.

Not that Toji cares. He never cares. No matter how many times you complain about the noise and his clients, he always gives you a crooked smile, a sweet apology, and a promise to never do it again...but then he does. Over and over again.

You have known Toji for over a year now since you put out an ad online for a possible roommate to help you with rent and expenses that began piling up. Toji met up with you that week at a coffee shop where he not only revealed himself as a fine ass single daddy who was looking for a new place after his got roaches, but he also revealed his "jack of all trades" identity.

"I do plumbing, I fix furniture, I have experience in construction," he explained, taking a sip of his cold brew. "And..." He paused, chuckling to himself and rubbing his chin. "I'm also a sex worker," he finished, waiting for your reaction as if you would be disgusted. "Is that cool with you?"

You had said no, but only after you were sure that he would keep his cliental separate from you and the rest of your home. And it isn't like Toji is a bad roommate. He pays rent on time, he fixes the toilet and pipes when they shut down, and he keeps the crib clean.

The only thing is the damn loud sex. Some nights, Toji meets his clients outside of your home, but other nights, when he is sure you're asleep, he has them come to his room and takes his appointments there. There are a few times you have awakened to one of his ladies using the bathroom or happened across massage oil that he accidentally left out on the sink.

All of that you can deal with....but not these loud ass women. Crying for more from "Daddy". Begging for more dick. Screaming for the heavens to hear. Every time it happens, you can't help but wonder: "Damn...is he THAT good?'

Finally, the pounding stops and the bedsprings squeak as Toji finally stops fucking his lady for the evening. You sigh, hoping to God that this is it and she has finally came. You pray for silence and sweet dreams.

But you're not gonna get it tonight. "Want it doggystyle this time, boo?" he asks. The lady giggles her high-pitched, fucked-out giggle. "Y-Yeah," she purrs.

You have never been more heated in your entire life. Your anger only grows when Toji finally gets his client on all fours and begins fucking her from behind, causing her squeal, scream, and wail as his dick drives into her. "OH, GOD, YES! HARDER! FASTER!"

'This bitch,' you think. At this point, you don't know if you're referring to the lady currently getting her guts rearranged or Toji. "Put your hands on the wall," he demands through his grunts and groans as he drives himself into her.

Your mouth falls agape and you glare at the wall as if he is staring right back at you through the plaster. 'This asshole!' you think, enraged. The lady does as she is told and suddenly, she grows louder than before as the headboard knocks harder against your wall, knock-knock-knocking in a loud pattern that begins to drive you nuts.

No amount of stuffing your pillows over your ears or music will do. Now you will have to do what you were dreading: knock on his door. You toss your duvet off of you, shove your Sanrio slippers on, and storm out of your bedroom.

Toji's bedroom is only a couple inches from yours, so it takes no time to get there. You stand there outside his door in your oversized sweatshirt and slippers, fuming and trying to ignore the sounds of sex through the wood.

Knock, knock, knock. Your fist raps against the wood, quick and firm. The bed stops creaking and the lady's moans die down to mere pants and whines. "Aw, shit," you hear Toji huff, frustrated. "Hold up, stay there." The lady groans in annoyance and impatience, needing more of her nighttime hit.

After a few short seconds of waiting and your arms crossed over your chest, the door finally opens. Toji stands there, looming over you at six-foot-something shirtless and in his sweats. Those damn sweats.

Your eyes graze up his big, toned, tatted form to his snakebites, black hair in disarray, and grey eyes looking down at you. He gives you that crooked smile that never fails to make your stomach flip. He truly is a handsome man. "Hey, roomie," he greets.

He cocks his head to the side, his smile fading and his eyebrow raised. "What's goin' on? Why are you up?" You do your best to keep your composure. "Why do you think I'm up, Toji?" you say, unable to keep the bite out of your tone.

Your six-foot roommate doesn't seem to catch onto your tone, and if he does, he doesn't make it known. He places a hip against the door, causing his sweats to slip a bit down his waist and reveal a sliver of his V-line. "Uh...I dunno...is it your time of the month or somethin'?"

You ignore his answer, instead diving into your quickly-planned speech about respecting your time and your sleep. "Listen, I know you've got an 'appointment' tonight and I'm not gonna knock your hustle, but could you please try to keep her down? I have to get up at 6 tomorrow."

Toji blinks at you, confused at first, and then pinches the bridge of his nose. "Oh, shit, your job," he groans. "Sorry, babes. I'll keep it down for ya so you can sleep, I promise." He flashes you a Colgate smile then and nods back at his bed. "But I can't promise she will."

Over his shoulder, you can see the woman lying there on her stomach, her red toes hanging off the bed and her dress laying on the floor. You feel your body flush. You shouldn't be seeing this.

"Please try, Toji," you sigh, already stepping away from the intimate scene. "This is the fourth time this month you've had a loud client. My dark circles can't get any darker." No amount of concealer, caffeine, or eye cream has been able to help. You have been tossing and turning for so many nights because of Toji's work interrupting your dreams.

And deep down, you know that it's also because you've been envisioning yourself with him. Underneath him. On top of him. Against him. Feeling his muscles against your body. Feeling his cock deep in your-

"Well, you know," Toji says, pulling you out of your dirty thoughts, "some good sex always helps with that." He gives you a mischievous look as he leans against the doorframe, his lips curling into a crude smirk.

You glare at him, disgusted (and also secretly aroused). "Fuck you, Toji."

He gives you a wink. "Only if you pay me, doll. You won't regret it."

You have no time to wonder if he is just playing with you or if he is deadass because his client begins to moan and groan about her complaints. "Tojiiiiii!" the lady whines from the bed. "Where'd you goooo? I'm still so wet for yooooou!"

You both look from her to each other and you place your hands on your hips, your lips pressed tight together. Toji throws up his hands in defense and places one big hand on his heart. "Alright, you have my word. Now get that fine ass to bed before I put it to bed." Your eyebrows scrunch in confusion, hoping that wasn't a sex joke. Your roomie just laughs, giving you a wink. "You know what I mean."

With a huff, you step away from the door as he shuts it and trek back to your bedroom to hopefully get some much-needed sleep. When you do, to your surprise, Toji and his client are surprisingly quieter than earlier. You hear the occasional giggle and bed creaks, but other than that, there are no explosive, annoying sex sounds.

You sigh, feeling your eyes flutter shut and your brain begin to shut down...until you hear Toji start fucking again. Unfortunately, you can still hear the whines and whimpers of Toji's nightly partner drifting through the walls: "Oh, yes, Toji, like that! Fuck me harder, please..."

And as usual when you hear Toji going at it with someone, you find a way to join them instead of beating them, all thanks to your trusty rose. You have no time to be angry or tired once your favorite body-warming lube is coating your pussy once you apply it to your fingers and then the pleasurable buzzing and vibrations of your rose are against your clit.

You softly moan in the darkness surrounding you as your ears strain to hear the creaking bed as Toji thrusts into his woman for the night. His deep, ragged moans and hushed gasps reach your eardrums, making your pussy slicker and more open to allow something inside. You allow one finger on one of your hands to slip into your sobbing hole as you use your other hand to hold your rose against your clit.

"Get those fuckin' legs up," Toji growls and you almost do as he says. Your mind is so dizzy and clouded from the pleasure that you almost believe that he is here, forcing your tired body into different positions for deep dick.

You hear the client give a yelp before her moans are suddenly muffled, possibly by Toji's hand...oh, God, that's hot. You picture him above you now, his handsome face eclipsing your ceiling fan, his body pushing into yours as his veiny hands grip your thighs. You imagine your finger is thicker and longer, filling you up the way his cock would, plunging in and out of you and hitting your G-spot every time he pushes in.

"God, you're fuckin' good," he grunts through your walls. "Does it feel good for you too, baby?"

“Oh, fuck,” you whisper, your voice soft and high as you answer him. You suddenly hear a pause through the walls-no moans, no whines, no bedsprings-and your heart thunders in fear. Did he hear you?

But then, blessedly and luckily, you hear the bedsprings creaking in a faster pattern as Toji speeds up his thrusts, driving his dick into the client as she whines and screams into his palm. "Take it," he demands. "Fuckin' take that shit."

You have to bite your lip to avoid moaning out as your finger drags in and out of you faster, your rose slipping against your clit as it becomes wetter with every passing second. You begin to feel that familiar clench in your core of an approaching orgasm building inside of you, egged on by the toy and Toji's luscious, porn-worthy moans.“You cummin’ for me?” he gruffly asks.

Deliriously, you nod, your eyes fluttering shut. You see his face there, flushed and pretty. “Yeah,” you gasp. “Yes.”

“Cum for me,” he demands. “Cum on that dick, you pretty little slut. Do it.”

You hear the client let out a muffled scream as she finally cums around Toji's cock the way you would if you were with him. You feel your walls clench around your finger as you finally meet your end, the vibrations from the toy rocking you to the core. "Ah!" you gasp, your orgasm crashing over you.

You have to turn your head to muffle your moans into the pillow as you cum around your finger, leaving an embarrassing puddle on your bedspread. In the fog of your pleasure, you hear Toji's erratic breathing and soft grunting as he fucks the client's pussy into the bed to chase his high.

"Cummin'!" he suddenly gasps. "I'm fuckin' cummin'!" In an effort to keep quiet, you hear his moans become muffled as he cums. 'Where', you wonder? Inside of the woman? On her tits? Her ass? Her thighs? How would his cum look on your skin?

Finally, his moans die down to sighs and a tired laugh while the client giggles. "Definitely worth the $250," she comments. And before sleep takes you before your humiliation can, you wonder briefly just what his sex is like for that much money.

—The Next Day—

You damn near sleep through your meeting.

Actually, you damn near sleep through all of work. It's bad enough to nearly missed your alarm because you didn't hear it during your deep sleep and you had to rush to toss your cum-stained bedspread into the washer machine before getting dressed and heading out the door.

Thank God you never ran into Toji before you left. You couldn't stand the thought of seeing him this morning after last night. You feel such embarrassment and humiliation for getting off to him yet again, like some voyeur pervert. You may as well steal his boxers too!

But when you get home shortly after 3PM after bumbling through work, operating on two cups of coffee and caffeine-induced iced tea, you know you'll have to face the Devil when you see him leaning against the kitchen counter in sweats and a black tee that his waaaay too tight on him. Toji turns to you from making a ham sandwich with chips on the side, chewing some.

He gives you a crooked smile as you drag yourself into the apartment. “Good afternoon,” he chirps. You slam the door shut and walk by without even looking at him, heading straight for the fridge. “What’s so good about it?” you grumble.

Toji gives you a strange look as you yank open the fridge and fish a water bottle out. You need water. “Well, damn, someone shit in your cereal this mornin'. Least you look cute.” His smile widens as his eyes roam over your sweater, loafers, and work skirt that you pulled out of your drawer. Nothing matches. “Dark circles and all.”

Irritated, you nearly break your wrist trying to yank the cap off of the bottle, so you opt for the butterknife method and pry it open that way. “Don’t laugh at me, asshole. I’m not in the mood.” Then you angrily gulp down the cold water, grateful for it because you feel yourself becoming hot with rage. Your roomie is perturbed and put off by your attitude, narrowing his brows at you. “Jeez, okay. What’s your problem?”

“You!” you snap, finally turning to face him. “You’re my fucking problem! I almost missed my meeting because of you and that bitch last night after I told you to keep it down!”

Toji turns toward you fully, his big, toned body facing you. “Whoa, whoa, babes, relax," he says as if calming a rapid animal. "You’re grippin’ that butterknife awfully tight.” His grey eyes flicker down to the knife that you're holding towards him. You quickly put it down on the counter, disturbed by your rage. "Sorry," you mutter. "I'm just tired. And stressed. And extremely sleep-deprived."

You turn away to continue drinking your water and stand at a good distance from the knife. You don't need to accidentally stab your roommate and catch a case. "And dick-deprived too, it seems like," Toji adds.

You nearly choke on your water and cough into your fist. "What?!" you exclaim, shocked at his bluntness. You twist around to face him, gobsmacked, while Toji stares blankly at you as he tosses another chip into his mouth. "What? Do you not go that way or somethin'?"

You scoff, shook by his gull. "Toji, my sex life AND my sexual orientation has nothing to do with your ass. You need to mind your business." Quickly, you storm out of the kitchen, not wanting to be around him any longer.

But Toji follows just like the asshole he is. "Well, shit, roomie," he huffs. "I'm sorry. You know I didn't mean it like that, c'mon." You feel his hand grab yours, but you push him off. "Don't," you snap, narrowing your eyes at him. "I don't make your sex life my business," you growl. "So you shouldn't make mine yours."

Then Toji's eyes raise and you know he is about to be on some BS. "Uh, technically, you are makin' my sex life your business, babes," he argues. "You complaining about my clients and makin' my job a problem are-"

"Are nothing," you interrupt. "And the reason I'm complaining is because your clients are too fuckin' loud! I need to sleep!"

Toji just stares at you, silent, observing you closely. It is making you deeply uncomfortable. Is he going to say something? Finally, he cocks his head to the side as if sizing you up and his gaze softens. "You sure this is just about the noise?" he asks. "Or is somethin' else? Was I really wrong to assume that you're dick-deprived, babes?"

Suddenly, your anger subsides and you're left with fear twisting in your gut. "W-What do you mean?" you find yourself stammering.

You're so afraid that you let Toji take your water from you and place it on a nearby table. "C'mon, babes," he sighs. "Unless I'm just not privy to it, you don't got many male callers comin' in here."

He comes closer, his scent of ocean-scented body wash and cologne invading your nostrils. "I don't know why because I'd be all over a girl as pretty as you and knockin' down that door to get you naked."

You stand there, your brain moving too slow to process this. The air is tense and charged with a dangerous current now. You can feel it the closer Toji gets to you. Instinctively, you back up, but end up walking right into your coffee table. "Toji," you exhale. "W-Why are you-"

"Sayin' this?" he finishes. One big palm moves to take your hand, pulling you closer to him. "'Cause I'm so fuckin' attracted to you and I know the feeling is mutual. Why else would you play with yourself listenin' to me fuck my clients?"

If this were a movie, a record would definitely scratch somewhere. Your eyes widen as big as saucers and you feel as if you're about to faint. There is no way he knows...but he does. He smirks at you, knowing and teasing. "What?" he chuckles. "You think I couldn't hear you last night? That toy you got is loud, honey, 'specially with them thin ass walls."

Oh, God, he knows! This is beyond humiliating. You could just about die right now. "Don't be embarrassed about it, cutie," he coos, rubbing his thumb along your knuckles. "I thought it was cute. The whole time I was with client, I kept thinkin' about you."

He grips you to his body, forcing you to feel every inch of him against you. You place your hands on him to push him away, but his arm snakes around your waist, holding you in place. "Don't," you gasp.

"Why not?" he whispers, staring you down. Hot. Lustful. "I can show you why I get so many customers. Plus, I can show you how sorry I am for keepin' my favorite roomie up so late."

You dare to peek up at him and regret it instantly. His grey eyes, molten hot, and his dark lashes mesmerize you as if he is a siren and you are the sailor being drawn to him in your ship. "No charge," he murmurs. "All you have to do is cum for me. What d'ya say, babes?"

His hand moves to cup your chin, one finger gliding across your cheek to trail down to your lips. Between his touch and his naughty words holding forbidden promises, you don't know what to say. "I...I..." Your words are caught in your throat. Language ceases to exist for you.

"Just nod your head for me," Toji gently orders. Your body, shaky and warm, betrays you and you give a jerky nod. You can't deny the throbbing between your legs or the warmth in your belly any longer. Toji grins, wolfish and proud. Asshole. “Good girl,” he coos. “Now fuckin’ kiss me.”

Suddenly, his lips, soft, luscious, and addicting, are on yours. Every bad thought you had about him being a cocky asshole and a jerk and an obscene dickhead are gone, zapped away by the way his hand firmly holds your chin and the way his lips move against yours. His tongue gently swipes along your bottom lip and you gently pry your lips apart to allow him access.

As he cups your face in his hand, all you can think about is how fucking good of a kisser he is.

'Good' isn't even a proper word for how Toji kisses you. He is the best kisser you have had the pleasure of kissing by far in your life.

He pulls away with a soft 'pop!' as your lips disconnect, and he places his mouth on your neck. “Y’know, I don’t usually kiss my clients," he murmurs, "but you, pretty baby, aren’t a client. So I can make an exception for you.”

His wet kisses trail down your neck to your throat, making you feel hotter and hotter in your work clothes. Your hands clutch his big, broad shoulders, your fingers digging into his shirt as your inner thighs quiver from each heated kiss. “Toji,” you whimper. “Touch me.”

He doesn't make you elaborate on what you want to be touched. He already knows. But he does, however, make you beg. Asshole. “What’s the magic word?” He pulls away to stare into your eyes, drawing your desperation out of you with one steamy look. Your lips quiver with the six-lettered word, vulnerable and needy: “Please.”

That one word and the soft, breathy tone of your voice that the three syllabled word drips from somehow works for Toji. You see his eyes become hooded and darken to a stormy grey that makes your stomach flip-flop. In an instant, he is hiking you up onto his waist by securely gripping your thighs underneath your ass, forcing you to latch yourself onto him.

“Upstairs we go then. Hang onto me.” You do as told, interacting your legs around his waist and your arms around his shoulders as he walks to the steps, carrying you over to them. You messily, sloppily kiss as he slowly ventures up the steps with you in tow, your tongues twirling and swirling together. The kissing only makes you wetter and by the time you're in his bedroom, your panties are just about stuck to your pussy lips.

Toji tosses you down onto the bed, laughing as you squeak and bounce on the mattress for a few seconds. He descends upon you immediately, tugging at your blouse. You watch as he expertly unbuttons each pearly button, your breath labored and hot. “Let’s get this shit off,” he growls. “You’re wearin’ too fuckin’ much.”

The blouse comes off and then comes the skirt that he tugs down your nylon-covered legs. The more he undresses you, the more you can see Toji is getting hard. His cock chubs against his jeans, creating an obscenely obvious print in his pants.

"You always look so good in these goddamn skirts," he huffs, suddenly turning you over with ease. As you're recovering from his stretch, he forces you to bend your knees and toot your ass in the air so he can fully see your ass and hot pink panties poking through the nylon fabric.

"Nice panties, babes," he chuckles. "What's the occasion?" SMACK! His hand suddenly comes down against your butt, the sound of it colliding with your cheeks echoing throughout the room. The moan that escapes you is one that shocks you.

Toji laughs, giving your ass a pinch. "I knew you liked gettin' spanked, ya little slut." He then loops his thick, calloused fingers underneath the waistband of your stockings and pulls them down, groaning at the sight of your perfect, plump ass in those tight, little pink panties.

His kisses and light nibbles that he gives your ass and thighs are damn near torture. They make you grip the sheets and moan into the soft, cotton-scented fabric, his soft lips turning you into a fiend. You need to feel his soft lips somewhere else.

Toji seems to know it too because he purposely keeps skipping your pussy as he moves between biting your ass and kissing your legs despite the throbbing, soaked cunt right in front of his face. Fuck your pride. You need him too much. “Toji!” you beg. “Lower, please!”

Your roommate stares at you over the hill of your ass, giving you another smack that travels right to your cunt. “Patience, baby. You ever heard of foreplay before?” His chuckle is straight out of a horror movie, sinister and mean, as he goes back to kissing along your spine as his hands massage your ass.

Finally, his patience thins and he forces you to roll over onto your back. You stare up at him, your arousal peaking, as he strips off his hoodie in front of you. Though you've seen him shirtless plenty of times before (and have secretly gotten off to the image of him at night), it is something else to see each defined muscle, vein, and tattoo up close.

Your eyes graze over his lickable six-pack; his big, juicy pecs; his prominent, brown, pierced nipples; his happy trail; his well-defined V-line with a snake tattoo leading down underneath his sweats; his big arms that you want to feel wrapped around you and holding you tight. You understand now why so many women flock to him, other than his obvious charm and kissing skills.

He ducks down between your legs, opening them wider for him as his eyes pierce into yours, pinning you to the spot. “Look at me while I do this.” You couldn't look away even if you wanted to. The sharply-linked spinal tattoo hypnotized you as he ducks between your legs, sighing at the sight of your glistening, sobbing wet pussy. “Little slut. Bet you’ve been wantin’ this for a long time.”

With the way the man begins kissing, licking, and sucking on your pussy, you start to think that he's wanted this for a long time too. Toji knows exactly how to treat a woman, alternating between quick tongue flicks and long, slow drags of his tongue up to your clit. You buck under his hands pinning your thighs to the bed, forcing your body to take all that he gives you. “T-Toji!” you moan, your voice ricocheting off of the bedroom walls. “Oh, fuck, yes!”

Your roomie's gray eyes trail up to admire your pretty face etched in ecstasy as he wetly pulls his tongue away from your gorgeous cunt to tease you. “Now look who’s loud. But it’s so fuckin’ hot.” He then puckers his lips and hocks a copious amount of saliva onto your cunt, loving how it drips down to your asscrack.

Excitedly, his eyes widen at the sight of your pussy twitch and his ears perk at the sound of your sweet, weak whimper. “And you like spit on your pussy?" he cackles. "You little freak!” He gives your outer thigh a little smack before he dives back in, slurping his spit back up into his mouth as he takes a mouthful of your pussy.

You learn very quickly that Toji likes to French kiss, noticing how his lips and tongue move so gracefully against your pussy lips and clit all buzzing and twitching with pleasure from his talented ministrations. He is talker too, murmuring "such a pretty lil' pussy" and "fuck, so good" into your hole as he greedily eats you out, joyously taking everything you give him.

You're enjoying everything he gives you too. He is certified munch which you're 100% sure is somewhere on his ad. You now understand why you always hear his clients squeal, whine, and scream as he goes down on them, often making them cum rather quickly or making them beg for multiple rounds. Toji is incredible.

“Where’s your toy?” he suddenly asks. He is staring dead at you, his lips coated in spit and your juices. You blink wildly at him, the edges of your vision fuzzy from the pleasure. “H-Huh?" you stammer. He wastes no time repeating himself: "Your favorite sex toy. Where's it at?"

You blink at him again, wondering if he is serious. Judging by the clench in his jaw and the wild look in his eye, he is DEADASS. "In my room, second drawer next to my bed." You swallow hard, wondering what he is planning as he gives your clit a peck before jetting off to your room.

Seconds later, he returns with your rose, a bottle of your favorite lube, and a wicked smile on his face. He directs you to sit up on your elbows and props a pillow up behind your back to better help you. You watch as he kneels on the bed beside you, his groin right in your face, his cock pulsing beneath his pants. “What are you doing?” you breathlessly ask.

Toji applies a bit of lube to his thick fingers before applying it to your pussy, gently circling your clit as he does. You moan at the contact, your head lulling back against the pillow. “About to make you fuckin’ scream. Show me how you played with yourself last night.”

Bzzzzz goes your rose when he switches it on. He grins wider as he hands you your toy, trusting you to know what to do with it. "C'mon, baby doll, don't be shy now. It's too late for that." With his other hand, he palms himself through his sweats, watching you intensely.

You stare at him and then the buzzing rose, your pussy oozing and twitching for release. Reluctantly, you begin pressing the rose against your needy, desperate clit. The instant you do, Toji's eyes widen an inch at the sight of your body responding to the low yet impactful setting that the rose is on as it buzzes against your clit.

"Oh, shit," you gasp, your eyes fluttering closed from all of the stimulation: the vibrations from the toy; the head radiating from Toji's body; the scent of his body wash and cologne. "Fuck, baby," he groans. "Look at what you did to me."

Your eyes open and then widen at the sight of his cock suddenly in front of you. Long. Thick. Curved. Two-stoned, the shaft a darker tan while his head is a light pink. And the very real, very obvious silver hoop dangling from his dickhead. He chuckles at your cute reaction, a cocky smile on his face. "You ain't the first to react like that," he laughs. "It was a dare from a friend."

As if teasing you, he wraps a hand around his shaft and begins slowly stroking himself to the sight of you. He leans back a bit, jutting his hips forward so his cock nestles against your cheek. You swear it's by accident, but your cheek nuzzles against the throbbing, hot sensation of his dick against your face and a slight moan slips out.

"Oh, shit, you little slut!" he laughs, his dick twitching at the sight underneath him. "So you're one of them girls that likes this?" He takes his cock and gently slaps it against your chin and cheeks, laughing lightly at your little pout. "S-Stop," you stutter.

Toji raises a brow down at you, one hand curling in your hair. "Stop what? I'm not doin' anythin' but givin' you whatcha want, honey." He pauses, pulling his long, throbbing dick away from you. "But do you really want me to stop?"

It's like dangling a bone in front of a panting dog. Biting your lip as your toes curl at the rose's vibrations, you shake your head. "I thought not. Just shut up and let yourself feel good, Y/N." He then pours some lube into his hand and rubs it along his cock, making it slick and shiny. You're hypnotized by the lewd scene before you, noticing how firmly he holds himself, stroking up and down.

"Just look at me," he murmurs. "Look at what you've done. What you've been doin' to me." His eyes are hooded and his bottom lip peels back to settle between his teeth as his fisting becomes a little faster and a little more urgent.

You love watching him jack off in front of you. Oh, how you wish his hand was your mouth or your cunt, stretching around him, feeling him fill you. A loud, choked moan escapes you, bubbling up out of your chest, making Toji groan. "Bet this is how you were last night, screamin' into a fuckin' pillow when you came for me."

He takes two fingers and curls them under your chin. "Tell me, babydoll: did ya like hearin' me fuck that lady? Do you love listenin' to me make those girls scream?" His hand then wraps around your throat, firmly squeezing it. "Don't lie," he growls.

You can't deny it. Not when your toy is so persuasive against your pussy, making you drip all over the bed. "Y-Yes," you confess. "You're just really loud." Your roommate smirks down at you, knowing and being very cocky about it. "And you're about to be loud too."

He then takes his cock and gently slaps it against your glossy, sticky lips, making them stickier from his pre-cum and the lube. Knowing what he wants, you pry your lips open, allowing him to slowly slide against your tongue. “That’s it, open your mouth,” he murmurs. “You got this dick now. So take it, babes.”

Toji keeps a firm hand on the back of your head as he pushes further in your mouth, moaning when he bottoms out at the back of your throat. You have to widen your jaw to accommodate him, opening your throat to avoid choking. All you can see is his V-line and stomach, cut from years of sit-ups, pushing into your face as he fucks your mouth as if it were a fleshlight. “Nice mouth. Probably the best I’ve ever had.”

You feel your hand wobble, nearly dropping your toy. He softly chuckles, gently stroking your hair. "Don't worry, baby; I gotchu. Just focus on that cock, alright?" He then shows you what he means by replacing your hand on your toy and pressing it against your clit, rubbing it up, down, and around the sloppy, wet lips of your pussy.

This freedom allows you to wrap one hand around Toji's cock, giving yourself some leverage to sucking on him. "Goddamn, you're good at this!" he hisses, sliding himself deeper, making you gag wetly along his shaft. "That's a good lil' cocksucker. Maybe I shoulda been fuckin' you instead of them other girls, huh?"

You feel that familiar urge to cum building and begin to moan loudly around his cock. He pulls away, allowing you to breathe and warn him of your oncoming orgasm. "Oh, fuck!" you bellow, desperate and close, your hips jutting forward into the toy. "Toji, I'm gonna-"

And then he stops. But just for a moment. "Not yet," he growls, quickly crawling down towards your pussy and tossing your legs over his shoulders. "You cum in my mouth. Nowhere else."

Between his hot, wet tongue in your pussy and the buzzing of the rose against your clit, you have no choice but to cum. With a choked moan of "O-O-Oh, f-fuck!", you feel pleasure wash over you and come undone in Toji's mouth, your thighs twitching and muscles tensing as your orgasm rocks you to your core.

Your eyes roll, your back arches, and everything in the world seems nice and good in those split seconds as you cum all over your toy and your roommate's magical tongue. Toji groans as your taste floods his mouth, soaking his chin and his sheets. He licks and suckles on you until you're nothing more than tired breaths and soft whimpers, your body twitching from the intensity.

Finally, Toji pulls away and turns your toy off, but sucks your juices off of it before tossing it aside. You lay there before him, winded and spent, coming down from your high and in need of a breather...but Toji doesn't give a fuck. He never gives a fuck. "Don't tell me you're tired now, baby," he tuts. "We haven't even started yet."

He gives you a wolfish, evil grin before he takes you by the ankles and spreads your legs apart for him. He takes his cock and gently slides it against your overly-sensitive, twitching, soaked cunt, focusing on your clit. You both moan at the contact, every slight touch worth a thousand. "Good, baby?" he asks. "You want this?"

You stare up wordlessly into his eyes, unable to move your lips or heavy tongue to form your words. All you can do is nod. But Toji isn't happy with that. He gives your pussy a firm slap with his hand, making a high-pitched squeak escape you. "Uh-uh," he firmly says. "Use your words. Tell me what you want."

You should tell him no. Tell him to stop. That you need a break. Some space to recover. But despite the twitching and tremors in your pussy, you can also feel that you desperately need more of him. "I-I want...you," you manage you gasp out. "I need you, 'Ji. Please."

You can't express how full you feel when his cock is finally inside of you, inch by inch stretching out the wet walls of your pussy. Your mouth falls open on a silent moan as your hands grip his shoulders, desperate to grasp something. Toji stares down at your face and pretty body all stretched open for him, wanting so desperately to fuck you dumb.

And he does. Once he has some slow, shallow strokes in to allow you to get used to him, nothing is stopping him from absolutely fucking your shit up. He grips your hips and proceeds to thrust his hips forward and back, drilling his dick into your cunt as he sucks on his fingers and uses them to rub your clit with each thrust.

"Now you see," he grunts. "Now you know why bitches come flockin' to me. Now you know why I always get calls. Now you get it...dontcha, babes?" The only thing you can respond with is "Ahhh, fuck, fuck, oh, my God, oh, oh!" as he proceeds to fuck you absolutely stupid.

You can't keep quiet. Your response to the pleasure you're feeling fly out of you, bouncing off of the walls, echoing throughout the apartment. His dick is so persuasive, drawing so much out of you in such little time.

BOOM-BOOM-BOOM, the wall behind the headboard goes. Toji grins at the plaster, using one of his big hands to slam against the wall, basically telling your neighbor 'Fuck you!'

"Whoops," he chuckles. "Guess we got an audience." He gives you a wink, making you low-key afraid of what could possibly come next. "Let's give 'em somethin' to really be mad about, hm?"

He then proceeds to prop his feet up on the mattress and firmly grasp your ass from underneath, pinning your thighs up and apart, before drilling himself down to pound your pussy into the mattress. Again and again and again.

You are in a whole other world. Another universe. Nothing exists but Toji and the explosive pleasure he is serving you on a silver platter. He then stops, drops your legs, and takes his dripping cock out of you. "Stick out your tongue for me." Silently, you do as told, letting your wet tongue hang out of your plump lips. Tap-tap-tap. "You made a mess," he murmurs. "Now you need to clean it up."

He watches you intently as he swirls his cock around in your mouth and you diligently suck all of your juices off of him, even sucking on his balls. You have turned into a complete mindless slut for him, desperate to please and to be pleased. "Ya like the taste, babe?" he chuckles. "You taste good, right?"

He groans as he slides his cock out of your luscious mouth and presses a hot kiss against your sticky lips. Nice an' sweet, just like you."

Before you can even think of a response or to even take a breath, he is flipping you over onto your stomach. SMACK! "Ass up, baby girl," he demands, his voice breathless and full of lust. Though your limbs feel like jelly, you get on all fours and firmly push your knees and elbows into the mattress.

"That's a good roomie," Toji mutters before slapping his cock up against your pussy, emitting soft moans and mews of desperation out of you. Then, finally, again, he is inside of you and proceeds to fucking your cunt like it's about to go out of style.

One hand on your throat, the other on your clit, and one foot propped up on the bed, Toji fucks you in doggy, making the bed rock and the neighbors bang harder as your shared moans grow louder. "Good, baby?" he pants, a cocky smile in his voice.

Your head is digging into the bed, your makeup fucked and drool spilling from your mouth. "Yes!" you sob into the sheets. Toji yanks you up off of the mattress, forcing you to come back to reality. "Sorry, hon, I couldn't hear you. Say it again real loud for me."

"Yes!" you yell, but it sounds more like "Ye-e-e-essss!" because of the force, breathtaking thrusts, and deep dicking that Toji is giving you right now. He nods in encouragement, pleased with your answer and your body and your everything. "That's my good baby girl. So obedient for me."

He leans in, pressing his lips to your ear and gently nibbling on the flesh. "Don't let this go to that pretty head," he whispers, "but you're the best fuck I've had by far." Embarrassingly enough, the comment makes you fold completely.

Or maybe that's just because of his dick filling you up and plunging in and out of you, somehow better with each passing second. You now understand why so many throw their hard-earned dollars at Toji to get a fuck. He is the best fuck you've ever had. His sex is your kryptonite. Your weakness. The very thing that will keep you addicted to him.

And when you feel a second orgasm coming on, you know that you are hooked on your roommate and nothing (and no one) else will compare. "Toji, m'gonna cum!" you warn him. "I'm so close!" His calloused fingers slip and slide across your slippery clit, getting you closer and closer as his dick works with his fingers to get you to your end.

"Daaamn, roomie, again?" he cackles. "Tell me somethin' first." He takes his hand off of your throat and pushes your cheek to face him over your shoulder.

"W-What?" you mew. You'll just about say anything he wants at this point.

"Tell me you're a filthy fuckin' pervert who loves listenin' to her roommate cum and fuck his clients."

You swear that you thought you just hallucinated what he said, but his steely eyes tell you different. "W-WHAT?!" you exclaim. "But-"

SMACK!

He takes his hand and slaps your ass hard, leaving it stinging and your eyes wet with unshed tears. "Is that a no?" he pants in your face. "I guess you don't wanna cum then." He slows his thrusts to an agonizing halt, still pulsing inside of you. He pauses from rubbing your clit as well, leaving you in purgatory.

"No, no, please!" you nearly cry. "I'll say it, Daddy! I promise!" You've never felt such desperation. It aches in your core, your body desperate to be relieved. Your roommate grins in your face, enjoying your anguish. "Then say it."

Your mind is screaming at you to not do it...but inevitably, Toji wins. You lick your lips and nearly cringe at the horribly embarrassing and lewd words that pass them: "I-I'm a filthy fuckin' pervert who loves to hear her roommate cum and fuck his clients," you softly announce.

Toji swoops in and presses a hot, passionate, deep kiss onto your lips that steals the air from your lungs. "Good girl," he coos against your lips. "And when good girls listen, good girls get rewards."

Then it's back to fucking. Back to moaning. Back to chasing that high and letting every sound explode from your chest along with the creaking of the bedsprings underneath you. It only gets louder and more frequent when Toji fucks you faster, his hips pistoning against your ass that bounces and shakes against his pelvis every time he slams himself into you.

"Fuckin' cum for me, slut," he demands. "M'close too, so you'd better cum now." He grips your throat tight and nuzzles his nose into your sweet-smelling air. "You're mine now, baby. Nobody will ever be able to fuck you as good as me."

No way. No possible way. And you know that the minute that your second orgasm crests and washes over you. You cannot stop the loud, unabashed wail that escapes you as pleasure crackles beneath your fingertips, toes, and deep within your core: "I-I-I'M CUMMING!"

Your pussy damn near clenches Toji for dear life, tighter than a vice, as he watches you cum around his cock. Your swirling hips and bucking body ignites a fire in him that causes him to fuck the absolute shit out of you, pushing you down into the bed and hiking your ass up. "Stay there," he groans. "Stay right fuckin' there and take this shit."

You do as told, but you couldn't fight him off even if you tried to. He fucks you through your orgasm, making your limbs turn to jelly and your pussy melt like ice cream, wet and slippery. Toji's grunts and groans grow louder until he pulls out of you, strokes himself to completion against the soft globes of your ass, and finally cums with a loud "FUCK!" that echoes throughout the bedroom.

You weakly gasp as you feel warm, wet droplets of his spunk coat your ass and back, creating a nice pearly necklace for your waist and asscheeks. His loud, guttural moans finally die down into soft groans and sighs as his high fades and all that is left is the soft ache of exhaustion. "Now that's a pretty sight: all my cum on this fuckin' ass."

SMACK!

He hits your ass again, hard, but all you can do is flinch. You can barely lift your head. You feel as if you have just been put through the wringer. You are soaked head to toe in sweat and your inner thighs feel sticky with your cum...and maybe his as well?

You don't know, but you find yourself not caring. Not when the thick fog of after-sex exhaustion looms over you...just like Toji is doing. He hovers above your back and comes down, each hand on either side of your head. You feel his lips at your ear, making the hairs on your neck stand on end.

"Like I said: no charge," he whispers. "I hope you enjoyed yourself, roomie." He swoops down to give you a kiss on the cheek and it is like putting a cherry on a sundae.

Oh, yes, you enjoyed it-and him-very much. And who knows? Maybe you'll be a regular client of his from now on.

THE END.

[iamthatonefangirl]

miss possessive part 2 - congressman bucky barnes

thank you all so much for the love on part 1 of this. i love you all so much you are literally my motivation to keep writing. i hope part 2 does you all justice!

part 1

part 3

~~~

after the crash, Bucky was pissed off, to say the least. entirely at himself. 

Bucky should have sat on the passenger side, not you. he would have been completely unharmed. maybe if he’d reacted quicker, used his enhancements to pay more attention to his surroundings, then maybe you wouldn’t be in this position. 

he felt his heart drop to his stomach when he saw the blood dripping down your face after the crash. you were right next to him, within his reach all night, but he had to remind himself this wasn’t something he could have protected you from. it almost broke him. 

you were in an ambulance pretty soon after. your head hurt like a bitch; you were a little too focused on the searing pain to make out the words Bucky was saying to the first responders, telling them they had to let him ride with you in the ambulance. he was your husband, after all. 

wait, what? 

did you hear that correctly?

through the burning pain, you tried to keep a level head. it made sense that Bucky lied; it was the only way for him to come with you. but hell if it wasn’t embarrassing riding in this ambulance with him just staring at you the whole time. 

the paramedic was asking him a million questions that he didn't know the answers to. of course he didn't, he wasn't actually your husband.

you answer them.

yes, you had alcohol in your system. you’d just come from an event. how much? uncertain. 

yes, you were on medications. which ones? great, now Bucky gets to hear. 

no, no chance you’re pregnant. you’re sure. yes, you’re sure. 

“Bucky…” you mumble. 

“yes? what’s wrong?” 

“Bucky?” you repeat. okay, wow, suddenly you feel a lot worse.

the world goes dark.

~~~

to put it bluntly, this was insanely embarrassing.

the hospital staff think he's your husband, so he's allowed to stay. when you ask him to leave, he refuses to go anywhere.

hours later, after some stitches and a million scans of your head, you're left alone in the hospital bed. with Bucky still staring at you.

"you can go, you know," you tell him. "it's been a long fucking night. no reason to stay."

he grumbles under his breath, "not goin' anywhere."

you wish he would. watching him, sitting here with you in such a vulnerable state hurts your soul. he's here out of obligation. of course he cares. he would be heartless not to, and Bucky Barnes is anything but heartless.

but he doesn't care in the way you wish he would.

you wish he'd be the guy that looks for you, only you, all night at the gala. you wish he'd refuse to leave your side, never letting you out of his sight. you wish he would look at you all the time, not just when another man is taking you upstairs, not just when you've had your skull cracked.

you wish he'd be the one to whisk you away at the end of the night. you wish he had told you how pretty you looked tonight, because he's the only man you'd gotten all dolled up for.

tears spring to your eyes at the thought, so you turn back to face the ceiling and shut them before they can fall.

but he's still staring at you. he sees the change in your demeanor.

"what is it? what's wrong?" he asks, jumping to his feet to stand next to your bed.

you shake your head and lie through your teeth. "head hurts."

it's not a lie entirely, but. mostly.

you open your eyes to look at him, and he actually looks pained, as though he's the one in the hospital bed, not you. you backtrack, reassuring him that you're completely fine, it's fine, you're used to it. you're used to the pain.

suddenly, he looks confused. fuck, why are you the one complaining about your own issues? don't you remember the shit he's been through?

he's been through worse than you could ever imagine. stop fucking complaining.

"I'm fine, Mr. Barnes. go home."

he shakes his head in exasperation. you're so fucking stubborn, you know that? why won't you just let him do this for you?

he wonders a million different things. you got hurt while working for him, and he knows this isn't your ideal job, that it's only temporary. when he gets elected, he'll get a new assistant, and if he doesn't, then he won't need one anymore. he won’t need you anymore. 

of course he’ll always need you.

that was the deal that was agreed upon, but he can't fathom never seeing you again. especially not after he let you get hurt on his watch.

he wonders if you blame him for not doing enough, for not being enough to protect you from what happened. 

he knows you don't. doesn't help ease the feeling.

"stop calling me that," he says. he says it with a faint smile on his face, trying to maintain his composure. trying to bring a smile to your face.

he sees you roll your eyes at him, and how the action clearly disturbs the headache you have as you recoil from it.

he has to press. he has to do something, anything–

"I know you know my name. you said it in the ambulance," he begins to tease, smirking. 

it doesn't have the intended effect. he wanted to see you smile, see you laugh, but instead? instead, he's made you cry. 

you bring your hands to your face as you wipe the tears away. why can't he see how difficult this is for you? he has to know that you're stupidly in love with him, it's not that hard to recognize the longing in your eyes.

so no, you won't call him Bucky, because that makes it too real. it's way too close to home and you have to remind yourself that this is not and never will be anything more than a working relationship.

"please don't cry. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you," he says, taking your hand in both of his. you look down to where he's touching you.

you're done for. your mind short circuits. you don't know if you should pull your hand away, or if you're going to cry, or what. your mouth speaks before you consciously make a decision.

"can you do me a favor?" you ask him, wiping your face with your free hand. "can you bring me my stuff?" you request, indicating to the large plastic bag in the corner of the room.

he releases your hand and steps away to grab it. you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding. 

you pull your dress out of the bag and begin to inspect it.

a black, velvet, off-the-shoulder dress. sleek and classy for a professional event, but it still made you feel confident and desirable. you bought it specifically for tonight.

you bought it specifically with Bucky in mind.

god, you really are fucking pathetic, aren't you? you just wanted him to look at you and think you looked stunning. but that's stupid, and childish, and impossible.

you inspect the neckline of the dress where your blood spilled onto it. you try to rub out the spots covered in dust from the crash, and almost cry again at seeing all the snags in the fabric.

oh my god. somehow, the thought completely slipped your mind.

you look back up to Bucky and see your blood staining the crisp white fabric of his shirt. you recall now how he pulled you in after the initial crash that caused your injury. you ruined his shirt. 

"fuck, your suit, I'm so fucking sorry," you tell him, looking up to meet his gaze.

when you do, you see the same look in his eyes that you had seen before the crash. that look. why can't you place it?

you can't tear your eyes away from him. not now. no car crash can make you. because you feel like he can actually see you, like he doesn't see you as the mess of broken pieces that you are. like he genuinely sees you.

you're shocked when he looks away and sits on the side of the bed, facing you.

you're even more shocked when he reaches for the fabric of your dress and runs his fingers over it. you watch his lips part, as though to speak, before biting his tongue. it confuses you.

he tries again,

"I don't think I told you this, but you looked beautiful tonight."

no.

no, no, no. it's too much. what is he saying? is he trying to make you feel better after everything that's happened? or–

it's the elevator all over again, the limo all over again. is he seriously still on this? you'd completely forgotten about what that dipshit said about you, when suddenly he brings it up again, reigniting the pain and shame that came with Bucky having witnessed it.

"I don't care about what that man said in the elevator, okay? I thought I asked you to drop it," you bite. 

at first, he looks confused and almost hurt by your words, but pretty quickly he understands.

"no, that's not– I'm serious."

you shake your head at him, aggravating your headache all the same, but you don't care anymore. you can't deal with this anymore.

"stop-" you begin, but he cuts you off, standing from the bed and raising his voice.

"no! you stop. stop brushing me off. yes, I meant what I said, that you shouldn't listen to that asshole or any other idiot who can't see how perfect you are. but forget about that. right now, I'm trying to tell you something, and you're not listening."

that shuts you up for once.

with a much calmer tone and quieter voice, he continues, "I'm just trying to tell you that you looked beautiful tonight."

"yeah, and it doesn't fucking matter because–"

you pause, remembering you can't say it doesn't matter because he doesn't love you.

"–because I'm sitting in a hospital bed now, and I'm going to have a fucking scar on my forehead for the rest of my life, and no man in their right mind will think I'm beautiful then!"

"then maybe I'm not in my right mind," he says quietly. "because I will still think you're beautiful then."

the impact of his words are worse than the car crash. you're truly at a loss. he can't do this to you, he can't hurt you like this.

is it a game? is he messing with your emotions because he knows you're in love with him?

you want to believe it's not.

"even now, in this hospital bed, you're beautiful."

you can't help but let yourself believe him, because it's all you wanted to hear from him all night. so you do something rash. 

you reach for the collar of his shirt, pull him in close, and kiss him.

~~~

he was not expecting that. 

he wants to hold onto you with all his might, hold you to his chest for the rest of both of your lives. he wants to kiss you until you both forget where you're at, until you forget anyone else exists.

when he pulls back from you, you're prepared to get reprimanded and fired. you're ready for whatever it is that he's about to tell you. you force yourself to watch the look on his face, expecting the impending horror that's going to appear in his expression.

he looks between your eyes, scanning for any sense of pain or hesitation you may be feeling.

he kisses you again, and you let yourself melt into him. without breaking away, he moves onto the bed, laying next to you.

it's like a fever dream. you feel like you're on cloud nine, the happiest you've ever been in your entire life. this is all you've ever wanted.

you eventually have to pull back. this whole time, you've been letting your emotions run rampant, and you've conveniently forgotten about how shitty you feel, how tired you are.

you run your mouth before he can say anything.

"fuck, Bucky, I don't want to stop, but my head fucking hurts. I'm so tired," you say, shutting your eyes and letting your head relax into the pillow.

he runs his hand through your hair, careful not to disturb the bandaged cut on your hairline.

"want me to go?" he whispers.

you mutter out a 'no' and lean into his arm that wraps around you as your weariness takes over.

~~~

he holds you gently as you sleep. he may not be able to protect you from everything, but right here, right now? he can be here for you as you rest.

a nurse eventually comes in the room, and he begins to remove himself from your bed.

"don't worry about it, sir. just adding notes to her chart."

he sighs in relief.

"you're a good husband. a lot of the husbands I see around here... not so much."

husband. sure, it was a lie he told them so he could stay with you, to make sure he knew what was going on. that you were going to be okay. 

after everything, he never thought such a life would be in the cards for him. all those dreams and hopes were left in the century before. could he be a good husband? would you even have him, if he asked?

woah, okay, too early to be proposing, he reminds himself.

~~~

eventually, you come to, and the first thing you sense is the weight in the bed with you.

holy shit, you weren't dreaming? this wasn't just a concussion-induced hallucination?

you blink your eyes open, and there he is, staring at you like always.

"hi," you whisper.

"hi." he whispers back.

and then the searing pain shoots through your head, causing you to cry out in pain, clutching your face in your hands.

he almost freaks. seeing you in this kind of pain? you didn't deserve this. it should've been him, he's experienced it, dealt with it before. why couldn't it be him and not you?

he runs for a nurse.

thirty minutes later, the opioids kick in, and you feel light as a feather.

"Bucky?" you begin. he's seated in a chair immediately next to your bed.

"yes, sweetheart?"

your heart pounds in your chest. you're high on the drugs you've been given, and you can't help it when you smile and giggle at the pet name.

"call me that again," you whine, to which he chuckles.

"sweetheart? you like that?" he asks.

"like anything you do," you whisper. "so perfect."

the drugs put you back to sleep real quick.

~~~

it's been another day, and you're being discharged. Bucky still hasn't left your side once, and yet you haven't talked. you can’t let yourself talk about it, because you know that none of it was real. how could it be real? you were hurt, and he was trying to be there for you. 

you crossed the line by kissing him, and it was time for you to let go of your desperation. you had to let it go, and move on. move on from the job and him entirely. 

you anticipate his overbearingness in terms of ensuring you get in the door safely when you arrive home. you don't anticipate him telling you that he intends to stay.

"Mr. Barnes, it's okay, I can take care of myself," you assure him.

you see the annoyance on his face.

"aren't we past this by now?" he asks you.

he sits down on the couch next to you, very closely, right up against you. he brings a hand to your face to turn you to look at him.

you lick your lips. "Bucky."

you watch him for a second, and you wish the look in his eyes was real. 

“Bucky, I quit,” you whisper. he clearly was not expecting you to say that, because he pulls away from you. you mourn the loss of his touch on your skin, the heat of his body near yours. but you're doing what needs to be done. 

“you can’t quit. I’m not– it’s not–”

“I have to quit, Bucky,” you explain to him. “I can’t do this. not anymore, it’s too much.” 

he begins to plead with you, “what? what is too much?”

“you,” you admit to him.

he doesn't understand.

"fuck, I just can't do this. because I love you, and I just can't..."

"I love you."

you're stunned into silence. no, of course he doesn’t…

he moves closer to you. 

“don’t quit because you think this was a fluke, or because you think I was just trying to make you feel better while you were in the hospital. I meant all of it. you are perfect, and beautiful.”

he puts his hands back on your face, gently, rubbing a thumb over the carefully stitched cut near your hairline. 

“please,” he whispers, and you can’t believe that he’s sitting with you, in your apartment, telling you all the words you’ve ever wanted him to say. “I love you. please.”  

you nod, and all the pain goes away as he pulls you in close and kisses you. 

~~~

“didn’t like seeing that idiot putting his hands on you in the elevator,” he whispers into your ear later that night. 

you lean back into his arms wrapped around your waist as you lay in bed.

“oh, please. you had that woman all over you, just begging you to fuck her,” you retort. 

“jealous, sweetheart?” he teases. 

“oh, please, you started it,” you laugh. 

“don’t worry about her. could only ever want my girl.” 

~~~

i really want to write smut for them or like another part so lmk if i should

part 1

part 3

masterlist

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tagged:

@starfly-nicole @avengersfan25 @thewiselionessss @ijustwantcomfypjs @hextech-bros @a-book-lover-things @ruexj283 @moncherriis @clavedelune

[ruesol]

You suspect that Simon might have a crush on you (much to your happiness). So you decide to harmlessly manipulate him into admitting it by asking him to set you up with one of his friends.

Note: fem!reader

main masterlist

—

r/advice

u/throwaway123:

How do I (F) subtly find out if my friend (M33) likes me?

Replies:

u/sudsysoap: there’s no need to be subtle. ask him to sleep with you lmao [+50, -10]

u/pricetag: agree with u/sudsysoap, men will sleep with anything as long as it has a hole [+30, -20]

u/log1cal: ask him to set you up with his friends. I did that and now we have 2 kids and a third one on the way. That prank will work wonders [+100, -7]

You had a feeling that Simon liked you. It felt obvious. He would walk by the street on the sidewalk to protect you, brought you deadbolts for your mangy apartment that you only live in for the cheap rent, would buy you groceries when you were too tired to leave your bed, and of course, would be very patient with you when you’d be feeling irritated.

Okay, maybe, he just treated you like how a best friend should but that still wouldn’t explain why he’d come to your apartment, in your crime ridden neighborhood and cuddle with you right after deployment. Not even bothering to shower before laying himself down on you like a starfish.

“I just want to feel warm,” was his answer whenever you’d ask him why he did so.

You never complained though. Instead, you relished the feeling of his heavy and exhausted body against yours. Enjoying the almost territorial hold he had on you. Like most friendships, it was a symbiotic relationship.

You both never kept much from each other. Obviously there were many aspects of his job that you couldn’t ask about and you respected that.

However, you both had hidden feelings and neither of you wanted to put your cards on the table out of the fear of rejection.

You watched as the man scarfed down his Sunday breakfast- a sort of inside tradition where you’d both go to a cafe near your apartment and scarf down food. It always happened on the first Sunday after his return from deployment.

The words from that one Reddit comment lingered in your mind.

He felt your eyes on him from your end of the booth and placed his fork down, still in his grasp. “Somethin’ on my face?” his gruff voice asked. 

“No, I’m just wondering if they even fed you at all.”

He let out a sarcastic ‘ha’ and went back to eating. You were getting antsy to the point where you began to pick at your hash brown with your fork, the crisp golden patty crumbling with every poke.

You wanted to try the trick so bad.

But what if he doesn’t like you like that? What if he does end up setting you up with a man you aren’t interested in because you decided to be sly for a moment?

Fuck it. At least this would be the least explicit way.

“I’m so tired of being single,” you huffed as you leaned back into the leather cushioned booth. Simon did not give any sort of reaction. Instead he directed his attention to his coffee as he mixed it with some zero calorie sweetener.

“All the guys in this city are so weird. I’ve done everything to get a boyfriend,” you continued to complain. Simon sipped his beverage and looked through the menu again (probably for a second helping of sausages).

Still no reaction. Sometimes you wondered how you even became friends with him.

“Wait, I know.”

His demeanor changed as his blue eyes flit to your figure. “You should set me up with one of your military friends,” you said as you smiled like a scientist who had just made a great discovery in their field.

Simon beckoned you over with his hand. Confused, you slid towards his end of the booth. “What?”

He lightly knocked on the top of your head like it was a door. “Thank God,” he muttered out.

“What was that for?” You replaced his hand with yours on your head, checking to see if he was trying to remove any lint.

“Tryin’ to check if your skull was hollow.”

“Fuck you, Simon. All I did was ask for a favor.”

The man folded his arms, biceps begging to be let out of the confinement of his sleeves. Your heart couldn’t help but beat a little faster at the sight.

“Is it because I’m not pretty?”

“Where’d that even come from? I-“

“So you agree that I’m not pretty,” you imposed before huffing and turning away from him.

“Oh my—fuck, just listen to me.”

You open your mouth to say more but you decide to give your friend a break.

He cleared his throat and turned your shoulders towards him. Your skin burned when his calloused palms situated themselves on you. “First of all, you’re not ugly. You’re basically out of their league.” You never understood why he couldn’t just compliment you like a normal person.

“Second, you deserve someone who will actually give you all their time. Something my military friends can’t do. You’re not going to be a priority.”

You felt like shrinking in your seat. His reasoning was ambiguous. You couldn’t tell if he was denying your request because he didn’t want your heart broken or because he actually liked you.

“Oh, okay.” You looked away from him in embarrassment. So much for miracles.

“Besides—“

He then went on to replace the deconstructed hash brown on your plate with his non battered one.

“—you might find someone if you look hard enough.”

Your head perked up. Was the ever so candid Simon Riley hinting at something?

“What do you mean?”

“Go out with me.” No beating around the bush anymore.

“Very funny, Simon.”

“I’m not good at making jokes. I like you.”

Oh.

OH.

You made a mental note to thank that one Reddit comment later. Trying your best not to smile, you let out a deep a breath before speaking. “Truth be told, I like you too. I don’t just let any man barge into my house and lay with me.”

“You’d better not,” Simon said as he pulled you into his side and then pushed your head close to his with his hand behind your neck.

“Been waitin’ for you to admit that,” he said before leaving a deep kiss on your mouth.

[joonberriess]

teeth. ☆ j.jk

⋆ TAGS — ghostface!jk, breaking in, TW: non-con to dub-con (oc does NOT consent verbally even if she does participate hence the dub-con), brief knife play, cunnilingus, degradation, misogyny(?), objectification, blow jobs, brief face/skull fucking, fuckin in the woods, unprotected sex, nasty talk by jk, possessive!jk, hints of kidnapping/captivity, fear play, facial, jk is lowkey yandere, iconic what’s your favorite scary movie scene but my style, DEAD DOVE, slight praises, ass n coochie worship cause jk is a ass man certified LMAO, cheerleader!oc, college setting

⋆ WORD COUNT — 4.2k

⋆ now playing: teeth - 5sos ⋆

“Color me your color, baby, color me your car, color me your color, darling, I know who you are,”

The music blared loudly, you hummed under your breath while lining over your lips with a dark lip pencil. The hour was getting closer and you realized you had to speed things up if you wanted to meet with your friends on time (you had been stuck in your cheer uniform ALL DAY). You moved around your room quickly while tossing articles of clothing onto your bed, no outfit in particular on your mind.

You uncapped the red lipstick and ran it over your lips slowly, filling in the blank spaces and blending the two colors to perfection. You decided a white long sleeve tucked into your mini jean skirt would serve as a perfect combo. If you were lucky, maybe that cute college senior Kim Seokjin would give you his jacket to wear. The idea has you smiling like a dummy.

Before you can slip out of your skirt the phone downstairs begins ringing loudly. You could have very well ignored it but you don’t feel like listening to your parents nag at you for not picking up the phone if it happens to be them. “Ugh, seriously.” You mutter and quickly run downstairs to the kitchen.

“Hello?” You softly sigh while twirling a piece of your hair around your finger.

“Hello,” some guy’s deep voice greets you, he says nothing else and you tilt your head in confusion muttering a soft ‘yes?’. “Who is this?”

Immediately you frown in confusion and balance the phone between your ear and shoulder, “Who are you trying to reach?” You pop a piece of chicken from your mom’s leftover casserole into your mouth.

“What number is this?”

“Uhh..what number are you trying to reach?”

“I don’t know.”

You hold back a deep sigh and check the time behind you on the clock, you really don’t have patience for this nonsense. Especially for some weirdo who’s either prank calling or just doesn’t know how to work a phone. “Then you have the wrong number,” you eat another piece of casserole, “it happens, take it easy though.” You hang up quickly before he can utter another word to you.

You had just set the phone down when it began to ring all over again, “Ugh…hello?” You stare at the decorative ceiling in annoyance, “Hello?” You say loudly when the other person doesn’t say anything for a few seconds.

“Why don’t you wanna talk to me? Just wanted to apologize, ‘s all.” He says with a teasing lilt, but it sounds more condescending than anything, “Just wanna..get to know you.”

You ignore the nasty little shiver you get down your spine when he talks to you like that, a deeper part of you is literally drooling over how this guy’s voice sounds but too bad he’s a weirdo though.. Your gut twists uncomfortably as your eyes dart to the side to look out the patio doors. “Okay..well you’re forgiven now, bye.” You go to hang up.

“Wait–if you tell me your name I’ll tell you mine.”

You can’t help your scoff, “Yeah, right. I don’t think so, why the hell would I give you my name? You sound like a total creep right now, you know that?” You huff and open your fridge up for a drink, “Besides, what’s your deal anyways? You keep calling and I’m obviously not who you’re looking for.” You complain while uncapping a bottle of water.

“Because,” he calmly starts, “I wanna know who I’m lookin’ at right now.. Pretty red lips and a tight little uniform on,” he draws out huskily.

You immediately go still, “W-What…how do you..?” you look around the empty kitchen and living room. “This isn’t funny.” You quickly head down the hall to the front door, making sure the locks are set before you go back to the living room and make sure the patio doors are locked as well.

“Never said it was babydoll.” He muses, “Though I do gotta admit, red looks spectacular on you, wonder if you got more around here in your drawers.” He trails off, the sound of drawers slamming close and another opening could be heard on the other side of the line.

You wait with a bated breath listening carefully, you slowly turn your head to look up at the ceiling. There’s a low thumping noise that follows the sounds you hear from the phone. Your eyes slip shut as you try to control the sob that’s about to come out of your throat, “What do you want from me?” You croak in a tiny voice.

“What’s your favorite scary movie sweetheart, hm?” His footsteps are heavy as he starts walking around upstairs in your room.

You blink your tears away and stumble towards the hallway to your only escape route: your dad’s office. “I-I don’t like any scary movies,” you whimper quietly, “p-please, I don’t wanna die.” You sniffle. You can hear him humming in the hallway upstairs now, causing you to duck into the office as silent as you can.

“That wasn’t my question. Time’s ticking babydoll, I’m not exactly a patient guy you know.”

“H-Halloween..!” You whisper-yell, “I like Halloween.”

“Which one?” He asks, you can hear him loud and clear at the bottom of the staircase, “Hm?”

You sniffle softly and back away, “Rob Zombie’s version,” you utter softly and hear him pause in his footsteps. He stands there for a few seconds before he slowly draws nearer and nearer. Your eyes squeeze shut as a terrified whimper escapes your lips, before you can plead with him the door slowly creaks open and a hooded figure stands in the doorway with the phone held up to his ear. You stare at him, the phone slipping from your trembling hand as it slams to the floor with a loud thud.

He tilts his head to the side and raises his gloved hand to wave at you. “Hey there sweetheart,” he purrs from under the mask.

You scream out in fear and knock over the desk chair, you’re lucky as hell your dad has a set of patio doors himself. You slip through the doors and run down the small hill, looking back and forth in time to see the hooded figure chasing after you.

The sounds of leaves crunching and branches snapping fill both sides of your ears. Adrenaline kicks in like never before and has you running the fastest you’ve ever moved in your entire life. If you can lose him in the woods you’ll make it to your neighbors’ in five minutes tops, might even get lucky if you detour to the main road but the hill to climb up will only slow you down.

“Don’t be like that babydoll!” He calls out from your left? Right? You don’t know where his voice is coming from, and quite frankly you’re too scared to look. You hear his heavy footsteps (now) directly behind you before a hand tangles itself in the back of your uniform top, gripping it tight as he stops you from going any further.

The force itself is enough to send you flying to the ground, knees scraping hard against a tree stump. You break your fall with your hands, crying out from the pain that erupts in both palms as tiny twigs and rocks dig into your soft skin. “Gotcha.” He chuckles and squats down to your level to admire your bruised form. You must have gave him a run for his money with how hard he’s breathing under the mask.

“P-Please!” You crawl backwards, back hitting the tree stump, “I don’t wanna die,” you pathetically cry, “I promise I won’t tell anyone if you let me go.” Call it cliche but it was worth a shot to plead with your killer? Stalker? You don’t know anymore.

He tilts his head, “Heard that one before, you’re not the first to beg so sweetly like that babydoll. Almost melts my poor little heart,” he coos mockingly, “but don’t stress your pretty little head over that, you’re not meant to use that brain of yours—meant to sit and look pretty for me.” He purrs and reaches out to run a gloved hand over your dirt stricken thighs.

You curl away and try to escape his touch, “Why are you doing this?” You whimper quietly, watching as his hand rubs circles over your bruised knees. A tremor runs down your spine as his leather gloves run over your shaking thighs, his touch feels scorching hot despite the cool material of his gloves pressing against your skin.

“Been watchin’ ya for a while,” he murmurs, “night n day—just imagining allll the different ways I could have you. Bet you’d look pretty with a mouth stuffed full of cock, wonder how pretty you’d look with cock deep inside your little cunt baby,” he trails off while giving your thigh a rough squeeze, “always did wonder how that pussy tastes.” You can practically picture the shit eating grin he must have under the mask.

You hate that his nasty words have a bubbling heat building in your lower stomach, it shouldn’t be that arousing to you yet here you were in the middle of the woods being fondled by your stalker while he talked about how much he wanted to fuck you. His voice even sounds hotter in person vs the phone.

“Penny for your thoughts?” He chuckles.

You land a harsh kick to his arm with a loud, “Get off of me!” You quickly turn over to stumble to your feet while he curses under his breath and stands to chase after you.

He’s not so gentle this time with the way he snatches you and slams you right up against the tree trunk, letting the chips and splinters bite into your skin unforgivingly. “Thought we were over this,” he growls, “was gonna treat you nice and sweet but by the looks of it you just wanna be tossed around like the filthy little slut you are,” he hisses in your ear while pressing you tight against the tree.

You whine loudly and push back against him in an effort to get him off of you, “Let me go—let go!” You growl angrily, “you’re a fucking psycho creep!” You grit your teeth while trying to turn to look directly at him.

He doesn’t shy away from hurting you to get you to become docile again. He pins both wrists behind your back in a tight grip, squeezing both of your hands until you hear a low threatening pop. A pained little whimper escapes your lip as he forces your head against the bark, “You gonna sit still like a good girl or do I have to tie you up?” He growls menacingly.

“I-I’ll be good!” You cry out as the pain starts to become unbearable.

“What was that?” He whispers in your ear, “Couldn’t hear ya.” He smirks.

A quiet sob slips from your lips as you slump over in defeat, “I-I’ll be a good girl.” You softly reply, too hung up on the pain to reply with the unbridled anger you feel right now. “Just please—let me go.” You sob.

He ignores your cries and instead brings out a rather intimidating looking hunting knife, it cuts into your skin almost right away with the slightest little touch. “Please no—” You immediately begin, thighs shifting as they slide against each other in an attempt to block him from either cutting or stabbing you. The only thing you achieve is the blade running into your thigh and slicing a small line downwards.

“None of that now babydoll,” he whispers while letting your wrists go and setting his big hand over your hip, “just sit still and look pretty for me yeah? Don’t need to think, just feel.” He breathes out as he guides the knife up your skirt, letting the sharp tip (which you noticed was slightly curved like a hook or something) hook under the side of your panties.

Your poor heart hammers in your chest as you begin to hyperventilate, “W-What are you gonna do to me?” The blade tugs at your panties, no doubt already piercing through the flimsy little material.

“Fuck.” You hear him whisper from behind, “You’re driving me fuckin’ crazy you know that?” His tongue clicks in annoyance as he suddenly yanks the knife down, a loud riiip following in suit, as well as your terrified scream/sob. “Gonna have a taste now babydoll, put your hands right there—yeahhh, good girl. Keep ‘em there baby,” he has you bending over with your legs spread wide apart and your hands over the tree, “ ‘s like a fuckin’ dream back here, fat little cunt n a nice ass.” He whistles while smacking his hand against your poor cheek.

You bite your lip as the cool air fans over your moist cunt, at this point in time you have long given up making any excuses as to why your pussy was drooling for this weirdo. Still didn’t mean you were less scared but you figured if you complied the faster things would go over. “Look at this slutty pussy, already leakin’ like a bitch in heat. Does a scary man like me chasing you through the woods get you goin’ sweetheart? Maybe you’re a little more fucked than I thought.” He chuckles.

There’s a brief pause and you wonder what he’s doing back there, so you turn your head to look at him when you gasp softly. He has the mask thrown off to the side, his face in all his glory—messy black hair and a lip ring with an array of piercings on his ears— he sits there with a shit eating grin, “Guess the cat’s out the bag huh?” You eye him with distaste before turning back around, you had at least hoped he was ugly or something.

“God,” he groans, “can’t get over this ass,” he mutters to himself while smacking both cheeks and pulling them apart to expose both of your holes to him, “wanna see it wrapped ‘round my cock, gonna have you squirting and messy babydoll. Might even have to get you on your knees to clean up your mess,” he whispers as his hot breath fans over your pussy lips, “you’re gonna be lookin’ at me with those sweet little eyes of yours too, gonna bust my load all over that pretty face of yours.” His tongue dips between your soft folds, licking from your winking hole down to your swollen little clit hiding under its hood.

Your eyes squeeze shut as his hands steady you by the hips, his face is practically smushed against your cunt as he slobbers over it with his greedy tongue. He sucks on your inner folds, getting every nook and cranny as he slurps up the mess he leaves behind before lapping over your clit with his tongue. Your thighs shake a little, you’ve never had anyone this eager to eat your cunt out like this. He’s a fucking menace and you hate how good he is at this.

“Fuck,” he pants softly, “can’t get enough baby, could eat this pussy for days.” He all but moans while latching on to your clit.

A shocked cry leaves your lips, you dig your nails into the tree bark and hold on tightly as your swollen bud throbs in his mouth. He doesn’t let up, suckling on your clit like a lollipop with just the right amount of pressure around the bud. A new wave of slick gushes from your untouched hole, loud mewls and whines leaving you as you subtly rut back against his face. It’s pure heaven.

He spreads your cheeks apart and pulls back to harshly spit on your cunt, “There you go, get nice n wet for me babydoll.” His hot breath fans over your empty little hole, “Good girl.”

You shouldn’t like the way he’s talking to you, but something about him calling you that has a delirious little whimper leaving you. He dips his tongue into your pussy, the sensation definitely welcomed as you sigh in bliss. His tongue wiggles around and curls upwards to brush over your sensitive walls in a flicking motion.

He jiggles your ass in both hands, moaning at the sight of the fat slipping through his fingers from his tight grip. He flicks his tongue back and forth over your swollen bud, you nearly double over as his tongue traces letters on your clit. “W-Wait,” you bite your lip as your eyes shut and you reach behind you to tangle your hand in his hair.

You freeze when you realize what you’re doing, but instead of getting angry with you he leans into your touch with a low moan. Clearly he loves it so you keep your hand in his hair, occasionally pulling just a tiny bit. When he pulls back to catch his breath, audibly gulping as he sits back on his haunches, “Turn around.” He says breathlessly.

From behind you can hear him shuffling around, the sounds of a belt being unbuckled fills your ears. “On your knees babydoll,” he rasps out while fisting his cock, sliding his thumb over the mess of precum he’s made at the tip of his cock. He’s watching you with dark lust filled eyes as you slowly fall to your knees in front of him, eye contact never wavering.

“Shit—when you look like that you make it harder for me to hold back.” He groans while licking his lip, “Exactly how I imagined you’d look.” He purrs as he brings the head of his cock to smother his precum over them, “Stick your tongue out for me baby—there you go, just like that.” He grins softly.

You lay your tongue flat under his fat cock, delighting in the delicious weight over your tongue. You can’t help but flick the tip of your tongue upwards causing it to brush over a throbbing vein. He releases a quiet hiss, fisting the shaft as he roughly slaps it against your tongue in repeated taps.

“Will you look at that, ‘nother little filthy slut we got here, how many other cocks you sucked huh?” He pushes into your mouth and holds the back of your head with one hand tightly fisted in your hair. You gag around his cock and fruitlessly claw at his thighs, “What’s the matter? Can’t take it? Poor baby can’t handle having a cock stuffed down her throat? Pathetic little thing you are, can’t even do what you were made for,” he rasps out while rolling his hips against your face.

His balls press snug against your chin as spit and drool dribble from the corners of your mouth. Your tears run freely no doubt ruining your makeup for the night, you probably look a hot mess right now. Your stalker moans and pants freely above you, he doesn’t bother hiding how good he feels right now as his cock twitches occasionally. You really lose it when he forces your head down and keeps you still, pelvis pressed right up against your nose as he rolls his hips in quick grinds.

“Oh shit,” he breathes out, “feels so fuckin’ good babydoll, knew you were the one when I first saw you.” He whispers out while slipping his cock out of your mouth, relishing in the gasping noises you make, “Gonna make you into my little cock sleeve, don’t need you doin’ anything else..belong with me right on my cock.” He shoves himself back into your mouth and begins fucking into your throat roughly. You cry and gurgle while weakly slapping your hands over his thighs. He doesn’t let up and only fucks your throat more eagerly.

“Fuck baby, c’mere,” he yanks you off his cock and brings you up to him.

He doesn’t waste time bending you back over the three and shoving his fat cock into you. You let out a loud cry and dig your nails into the tree from the pressure and slight twinge of pain from the size of his girthy cock. It sits nice and snug against your walls, curved slightly upwards to press into your g-spot, not quite hitting it but brushing over it.

“Oh fuck,” you whisper out as your toes curl from inside your shoes.

When a couple more seconds pass of him just idly rocking into you, he pulls all the way out until only the head remains before slamming back in with a loud slap. You jolt in pleasure as a tiny scream escapes, he doesn’t let up and keeps the same harsh pace he started with. His cock punches deep into your pussy, poking at your cervix painfully as you yelp out in pain between your moans.

“Fucking hell,” he moans out while moving his hands from your hips to your bouncing tits, “got a nice little pussy n a pair of pretty tits just for me right sweetheart?” He slaps one of your tits before taking your pebbled little nipple between his fingers and meanly pinching it.

“Mm!” You arch your back and try to twist away from his bruising grip. He manages to grip your other tit and knead it in his big hand.

Loud squelching noises fill the space around you in the woods, some of your slick even drips down onto the ground with tiny wet splats. The sound is filthy and has your face burning up in embarrassment as you hide in your hands with low whimpers and whiny moans. He suddenly changes the angle and begins grinding his fat cock right up against your g-spot, pressing insistently as he hits it over and over again.

“Oh you like it there don’t you sweetheart,” he grins while rolling his hips in slow circles, “go on then, fuck yourself on my cock like the little whore you are. Get that pussy nice and soaked for me.” He growls quietly in your ear while pinching your nipples once more.

A quiet squeal erupts from your throat, you shakily manage to knock your hips into his in a sloppy pace. “Please,” you slur out as your eyes slip shut, “c-can’t do it,” your pace is nowhere near the same as before.

“Can’t what?” He moves one hand down between your thighs, “Hm?”

You press your forehead against the tree bark in defeat, sobbing quietly as you wiggle your hips side to side, “ ‘s not the same, need you to f-fuck me.” You shamefully admit.

“Like this?” He slaps his hips upwards, “Or like this sweetheart?” He purrs and begins plowing into your drenched pussy, stuffing his cock deep inside with every thrust.

You throw your head back with a loud moan, “Yes, yes!” More drool begins slipping from your chin as you part your legs a bit wider and arch your back.

He swears at you from under his breath while rolling your swollen clit between his fingers. The sounds of skin slapping against skin begin louder, his balls collide with your swollen puffy folds and your ass ripples from his pelvis from his harsh thrusts. “Little fucking slut,” he grits out through his harsh punishing thrusts, “fuckin’ mine you hear that? So help me you ever think of looking at someone else I’ll fuckin gut them like a fish n fuck you over their dead body.” He hisses, “Better yet covered in their blood.” He roughly smacks your clit.

You mewl loudly and go still, your pussy pulses like crazy as you feel your orgasm hit you at full force. You cum with your clit trapped between his fingers and his cock stuffed deep. The orgasm is so strong it knocks you off your feet as you wobble and shake like a newborn lamb. “P-Please,” you sob out.

“On your knees,” he growls while slipping from your drenched cunt, “fuckin’ look at me.” He aims his cock at your face and strokes himself with loud slick noises. You stare up at him with a dazed expression, too fucked out to reply. He cums with a low moan, making sure to coat your lips and face with his cum as he taps the head against your cheek, “Fuck…” He sighs in bliss while lazily flicking his wrist.

You blink slowly and the last thing you see is him picking his knife back up.

+

Jungkook hums under his breath while he lazily digs through his bowl of popcorn, he’s been switching channels for a couple of minutes now. Nothing good is ever on these days, he rolls his eyes and shakes his head while flicking through the channels.

“Oh,” his face lights up in joy, “baby come look at this,” he grins and turns the volume up all the way high, “found somethin’ perfect for movie night.” He turns to look behind him, eyes wild and filled with sadistic joy.

“She was last seen Friday in the evening by her parents who were only going a few towns over to visit family. Her friends have all stated she was supposed to be meeting them that night but never showed, one even said they had spoken to her hours prior about their plans to meet. They said she wasn’t acting suspicious or anything—”

A muffled sob erupts, the sound of a cage rattling heard next as Jungkook slowly turns to look at your cowering form. You look so adorable all curled up in the cage like that, mascara streaking and lips wiped red from your lipstick. “Don’t like that movie?” He pouts, “Pity.” He turns back around and replays the entire missing persons ad.

TAGLIST: @fragmentof-indifference @jungkooksseuphoria @kooliv @angelarin @jjeonjjk7 @lilliankoo @pb-n-juju @ellesalazar @saweetspoiled @laylasbunbunny @prettyprincejk @cherrysainttt @hyunjinswifeee @joongraduatewithonor @hellbornsworld @leire-mia @m1sss1mp @lissful @winkii @lifeless-firefly @exactlygreatcoffee @taestoess @ayalies @floweryjeons @softtcurse @lilspinachwrld @tearyjjeon @littleobsessedkitty @lovelovelovebts @angeljmnie @rerefundslocals @bangtans-mama @thvhoe @maddkitt @tvse @ohjeon @teteswtnr @jkslovey12 @kelsyx33 @milfpo1ice @sluttydidi @ztyur @beomgyuult @shescharlie @sweet-sourhotcoco @lalita-7 @hazzzelsdimension @p34rluv @kook-net @bonita0-0 @vmapy @dahliadaenerys @gukiebaby @babycandy111

[halloween m.list]

[mywritersmind]

SIX TIMES TOO MANY (OR JUST ENOUGH?) - LN4

summary : in which the universe can’t seem to stop bugging you. six times when people thought of you and lando as more than childhood friends.

listen up : no warnings!! childhood friends! sometimes genuis just strikes🤷🏻‍♀️ requests for kimi franco and lando are open!!

word count : 820

⋆｡‧˚⋆

The first time it happened, you had laughed it off in a drunken haze of excitement.

“You and Lando!” Your best friend squealed, “You two hooked up, didn’t you!?” she hit your arm playfully, the biggest grin on her face as yours mirrored the opposite.

“Lando and I? No way!” You shook your head rapidly just as he danced up to the two of you, a drink in hand.

He spun you around and laughed in your ear and slurring his words as your friend gave a curious look.

The second time was an older woman complimenting you and Lando on the street, saying how lovely of a couple you were. Lando had laughed it off with ease.

The third time was far more embarrassing, a young fan had asked Lando to sign his cap and as he did, the kid grinned at you and whispered, “Don’t worry! I won’t tell anyone you’re in love!” He had skipped away after making your jaw drop.

Why did everyone think you were a couple? It was ridiculous and out of reach. You and Lando had been best friends since childhood, besides your first kiss, nothing had ever happened.

You weren’t blind, he was attractive. You just chose to ignore the way he mindlessly changed in front of you and how his curls fell in his face. You chose to not think about him winning a race, sweaty and exhausted, falling right into your arms as he whispered his thanks to you for just being there.

The fourth time someone mentioned it, it was your own bloody mother. She had liked a photo you sent of your group on vacation, replying with “Oh! You and Lando are just the sweetest. Open your eyes, love.”

It was mortifying, especially in public. It made things odd with Lando, after someone would mention it, he started to act squirmy.

He almost always had some sort of girlfriend, though he claimed he didn’t date.

The fifth time was by far the worst.

“I get it!” Your boyfriend had scoffed in your face, “I’ll always come second to him!” You had such a headache from trying to break things off with him that his last statement might as well have split your skull open.

“Him?”

“Norris! Just admit you’re ending things with me to be with him!” He stood up, paced the room, “I’m such an idiot.”

“What- That’s not the reason!”

“Sure! God Y/n you’ve always been drooling for him!” What the hell?

It was your turn to scoff, “Fuck you! I’m sorry you can’t imagine why anyone would break up with your dumbass but we’re done because I don’t fancy you like you do me! Don’t blame my friend.”

“Sure. ‘Friend’. Go cry to him.”

The sixth was the one to change everything.

“I never realized!” Max Fewtrell laughed with you, drinks in hand and leaning against the bar.

“Realized what?” You raised a brow, sipping your drink.

“Lando’s in love with you!” you almost spit out your drink, “I mean- I always figured he had a hard on for you but shit… he’s totally whipped!”

He’s drunk, you reminded yourself.

“Shut up Max.” It wasn’t funny anymore.

“I’m serious, Y/n!” He shook his head, turning towards Lando who was looking bored with a girl next to him, “He hasn’t gotten with anyone for months! That’s saying something! He talks about you all the time and fuck have you not noticed the way he looks at you?”

The way he looks at you? How could you not notice?

He does it just then, turning his head to face you two but keeping those magnetic eyes on you. His previous bored expression was gone instantly, a smirk gracing his face as his eyes stayed on yours. It practically made your heart skip a beat.

“Oh.” Is all you can manage before Lando looks back to the girl.

“I’m just saying… maybe all those times you complain about- when people think you’re a couple or would be perfect together, maybe they’re a sign.” Max gives you one last knowing look before his spot is replaced with Lando.

He leans against the bar in a lazy fashion, looking tired yet all his energy is focused on you, “Having a good night?” His voice- fuck that voice.

His voice which haunted your nightmares and fuled your fantasies.

“A weird one, definitely.” you laugh but it’s not really funny, Lando gives you a concerned look.

“You wanna leave?” and when he says it, you know he’d come with. You know he’d go anywhere for you.

“No.” You shake your head, looking up at the brunette and feeling your breath ragged and unfocused. You swallow, then smile, “Let’s dance.”

A grin breaks out on his face as you slip your hand in his, “Anything you want, Y/n.”

[sombrashe]

content dark themes, virginity loss, drug use, america mention

✮⋆˙ namgyu who loves blowjobs

theres just something about a nice warm throat that makes his dick jump in his sweats. and then theres something about your nice warm throat and suddenly hes like a teenager again.

the way he acts when he wants one is borderline annoying. he whines a bunch and gets extra clingy especially when you're busy. he'll place his hand on your knee and kiss your neck ever so softly just getting you riled up.

never gives back. he'll give head when he deems it worthy but beyond the occasional anniversary head you're shit out of luck. you've given up asking for it a while back and honestly it's fine. he does still get you wet he just doesn't use his mouth to get you there.

✮⋆˙ namgyu who has a corruption kink

his dream is to take a virgin and fuck them so good they're ruined for any other dick. he's had a lot of practice by the time he meets you. when you agree to sleep with him is the only time he willing gives head. he needs you to feel safe and secure if he's going to be a permanent fixture in your mind.

he'll watch from the sidelines whenever you're talking to someone at the club. holes burning into the back of your skull leave you stuttering and suddenly unsure of yourself in the conversation. you'll excuse yourself completely unaware why you're acting like this and go back to him with your tail tucked between your legs.

he pesters you to try new things sexually all the time. honestly this man probably has you trying things you were always against. he has such a way with words when it comes to getting you to open up. he'll give you everything you need to get you to say yes even if it means making promises he doesn't plan to keep.

✮⋆˙ namgyu who loves period sex

it's not just the blood that he likes. it's how sensitive your tits are leading up to when your period starts. it's when you're complaining about feeling bloated and how much you're breaking out. it's knowing you're going to be pliant and sensitive the entire time.

this is the only time he actually pits effort into sex. towels down to cover your sheets? done. water and some pain medicine on standby? done. fresh clothes and pad for after your shower sitting on the sink? done. anything to get him to his main goal of getting his dick wet.

his favorite part is how little foreplay he has to do before he can slip it in. he still does of course because he doesn't want to hear your whining. but it takes a lot less time and he loves that. calls your blood natural lube and gets to work rearranging your insides.

✮⋆˙ namgyu who has a pornhub premium account

he's has the same account for years. never comments or donates just saves videos that he watches over and over again. it's filled with american pornstars always speaking filthy english while getting pounded and korean cam girls whispering sweet nothings into the mic as they bounce.

he doesn't give up his porn watching for anyone. instead he'll simply tweak his search engine to better reflect the relationship he's currently in. chubby white girl gets dicked down, black doctor gives her make patient a blowjob, korean cam girls moaning like sluts. he doesn't watch it often when he's in a relationship because he honestly expects sex from his partner at some point pretty early into the relationship.

✮⋆˙ namgyu who's always high during sex

he loves seeing his partners pupils blow wide as he places another tablet on their tongue. drugs only being used because they trust him that much. he always keeps up with them up until they physically have to stop so they don't overdose.

he's always on something and you can normally tell what it is based off his eyes and the way he acts around you. clingy namgyu is because of coke. irritable namgyu is because of heroin. horny namgyu is because of weed. hyper namgyu is because of ecstasy. he's been every which way in front of you and you don't seem to love him any less.

when he fucks it's methodical depending on how fucked up the drug makes him. sometimes he's almost robotic with the way his thrusts are calculated and other times he acts as though he has no bones in his body the way he bends and positions himself to reach deeper.

✮⋆˙ namgyu who's insecure af

he will literally never admit it but he's a very very insecure man. he brags to high heaven about how good he is in bed but deep down he's unsure of himself. whenever you compliment him or his abilities in bed his ego spikes.

he needs constant reassurance in little things like "i love you." "you look handsome today, baby." or "god that was amazing." not overtly reassuring but instead subtle to not get him in his head. he never asks for it so it's up to you to figure it out which in of itself annoying but you do whatever you can for your mans <3

✮⋆˙ namgyu who loves to hear you talk

he's not a talker when it comes to any real aspect of his life. but in bed all you get are heavy breaths and the occasional whine or moan. he chooses his partners on how little they annoy him and how much yapping he can stomach. with you those rules go out the window. the first time you sucked him off you talked so much he had to shove your head down to shut you up.

during sex you love making noises and whine for him. begging is a lot of your talking. please and yes the two words that make up most of your vocabulary. he loves leaving you a babbling mess of cum and spit. when he's doesn't want to listen he'll shove you head into a pillow. it doesn't shut you up just makes everything muffled and it ends up spurring him on further.

[bullet-prooflove]

Bunny: Michael "Robby" Robinavitch x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @dizzybee03 @cosmic-psychickitty @puredicks @queenslandlover-93

Companion piece to:

Lipstick (NSFW) - Robby has never been with a woman like you.

Crisis - Robby has a bad day.

ASMR For The Soul - Robby doesn’t sleep when you’re not around.

Something To Complain About (NSFW) - You ignite the ire of Robby’s neighbour with your bedroom noises.

Noise Cancelling - Robby discovers his neighbour keeps a spreadsheet of your antics.

Robby doesn’t realise you’ve been keeping secrets, not until three months into the relationship when they all come hurtling out in the midst of one of his shifts.

It starts when an elderly resident named  Bonnie King arrives from one of those upscale nursing homes. She’s been brought in with fractured skull, disoriented, crying out for Bunny. They can’t work out if the confusion she’s exhibiting is from the injury or the dementia so Robby steps in to help with the assessment.

“Whose Bunny?” He asks Bonnie, trying to gauge her lucidity after they settle her down.

“My daughter.” She responds as Whitaker cleans up the head laceration from her slip and fall in the bathroom. “She’s pro surfer out in Hawaii. She taking a shot at the world championships soon. Maybe I can set the two of you up?”

“I’ve already got a girlfriend Ms King.” Robby tells her as he flashes a penlight into her eyes to check her pupil reaction. “But thanks for the thought.”

“Oh she won’t be as pretty as my Bunny.” She guarantees as she reaches for her purse and  pulls out an accordion of photographs, shoving them under his nose.

He surveys them with feigned interest, the baby pictures, the teenage years. It isn’t until he reaches the early twenties that he realises that her Bunny, holding a surfboard with a whole host of sponsorship labels attached to it, is his Allegra.

“Why do you call her Bunny?” He asks, struggling to put the pieces together because you have never mentioned Hawaii or surfing, not the entire time he’s known you.

“She was always an energetic little thing.” Bonnie said fondly as he hands her back the wallet containing your precious memories. “She used to bounce off the balls as a child…”

“…just like a bunny.” He finishes because you have ADHD and he guesses that was how it manifested as a kid.

“That’s right.” She beams and that smile, it’s definitely yours.

Robby does a little research after that, watching surf videos, reading interviews. The shit you used to do on the water it’s phenomenal, which raises questions about why you aren’t still doing it. It isn’t until he compares your mom’s medical file with a couple of articles from around the time of your retirement that he gets his answer.

Family circumstances, you’d told the interviewer. It tallies up with your mom’s initial diagnosis. She’d been clipped by a car after wandering into the street, admitted with a fractured hip and confusion.

You must have given up your career to move back to Pittsburgh and take care of her, using your winnings from the competitions to make sure she was in a top of the line care facility. He’s seen how you live, it’s not the lifestyle of someone who has hundreds of thousands of dollars in the bank.

He can’t imagine what it must have been like to give up that dream, to move to a place where the closest beach is almost three hours away when your entire life has been spent out on the water. He thinks that must be why you don’t talk about, the pain of letting that all go…

It would have destroyed a lesser person.

It’s an hour later you arrive at the hospital. You’d been out hiking at Montour Woods Conservation Area when you got the call. He realises all that outdoor shit you do, it’s a way of trying to find that peace you lost when you left Hawaii.

“My mom?” You ask, your voice raw with emotion when you appear in front of him and Dana.

“Let me take you to her, fill you in on what’s going on.” He says kindly before he guides you to her room. That reunion, it’ll be etched into his psyche forever because your mom, she’s started sundowning, she doesn’t even know who you are.

He’s waiting for you on the stoop of the townhouse apartment you rent when you get home from settling your mom back at her accommodation. There’s a fatigue in you that he recognises from his own final years with his father, the strain of being absolutely nothing to the person you love most in the world.

“If you’re going to end things with me, can you just rip off the band aid?” You ask him, in a voice completely devoid of emotion. “I’ve had just about as much as I can take tonight.”

“I don’t want to end things.” He tells you as he raises to his feet, his hands coming to rest upon your hips, anchoring you. “I just wanted to ask how you’re doing.”

You tilt your head away from him because up until now you’ve always been his sunshine girl, the one he relies on. It isn’t until now he sees how much weight you carry, how you’ve been hiding it underneath that shiny, fun girl persona.

“The only time I feel like I can breathe is when I’m with you.” You find yourself telling him. “The stuff with my mom, with Hawaii, it doesn’t matter because you see me, you really fucking see me…”

You break then, you shatter underneath his hands and Robby, he does the only thing he can do, he wraps you up in his arms and he holds on for dear life.  

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[aquaholicsanonymousworld]

House of Shadows

Pairing: Task Force 141 x DiplomatsDaughter!Reader

Summary: Task force 141 breaks into your father's house looking for intel on Makarov, but instead of the diplomat in question they find you, his overly helpful daughter.

The morning air was crisp against the grand windows of the dining hall, the golden light filtering through sheer curtains. The scent of freshly brewed coffee lingered in the air as you made your way downstairs, dressed for the day, unaware that your quiet morning was about to be violently interrupted.

As you stepped into the dining room, you froze.

The air was heavy, charged with something electric and unseen. It took half a second for your eyes to register the men standing in the room—armored, masked, their weapons raised but silent. The kind of silent that made your heartbeat slam against your ribs. They moved like shadows, precise and calculated.

Your hands shot up instinctively, eyes flicking from one soldier to the next. They were good. The best. You recognized their tactical gear, the deadly efficiency of their stance. Task Force 141. You weren’t naive to what your father did. You knew the weight of his dealings, the kind of enemies he made.

And yet, despite the very real danger, you couldn’t help but notice them. The sharp blue eyes of the one with the mohawk—Soap, you thought. The way Gaz’s jaw was set, smooth but firm. Price, commanding with an effortless authority. And Ghost, the mystery wrapped in black and bone, unreadable behind his mask. It was maddening that in a moment like this, you found them attractive—though you weren’t stupid enough to dwell on it.

"He’s not here," you said, voice steady despite the way your breath hitched.

A figure stepped forward. Captain Price. His gaze was sharp beneath the brim of his hat, assessing you as if peeling back layers of pretense. "That so?" His tone was skeptical, unreadable.

"Yes. He left last night. I don’t know where he went."

Another man, taller, broader—Ghost. His skull mask made it impossible to read his expression, but the way he shifted his weight told you they weren’t buying it.

"We’ll be the judge of that," Ghost muttered, his voice a low, gravelly warning.

"I’m telling you the truth," you said, lowering your hands slightly. "I know what my father does. I know who he associates with, but I don’t have the kind of information you’re looking for."

Soap exchanged a glance with Gaz, then turned his attention back to you. "No offense, but that’s not good enough for us."

You exhaled sharply, forcing yourself to stay calm. "I might not have what you need, but I can show you something that does."

A flicker of interest passed through them.

"Go on," Price urged.

You nodded toward the study. "My father’s safe. He keeps files there—transactions, contacts. If he’s working with Makarov, there will be something."

Ghost’s eyes narrowed. "And why would you help us?"

You looked at him, unflinching. "Because I might not be like my father, but I know what kind of man Makarov is. If he’s involved, you need all the help you can get."

Price studied you for a beat longer before nodding. "Lead the way. But know this—if you try anything, we’ll know."

"I’m not an idiot," you muttered, turning on your heel as they fell into step behind you.

As you passed by Soap, you felt it—a ghost of a touch against the small of your back. Barely there, but enough for your skin to prickle. You turned your head slightly, only to find him smirking, eyes glinting in a way that made your stomach dip.

You led them down the hallway, your steps careful, aware that any sudden movement could be misinterpreted as a threat. Ghost trailed a few steps behind you, his presence silent but looming. Soap stayed closer, almost too close, but you weren’t in a position to complain.

Pushing open the door to your father’s study, you stepped aside to let them in. The room was immaculate—rich mahogany shelves lined with books, an old-fashioned globe sitting in the corner, and a desk that looked more like a museum piece than a workspace.

"The safe’s behind the painting," you said, gesturing toward a framed landscape above the fireplace.

Gaz moved first, lifting the painting off the wall to reveal a sleek, modern safe embedded into the paneling. He gave a low whistle. "Fancy."

Price turned to you. "Code?"

You hesitated. "I don’t—"

Before you could finish, Ghost had already moved, producing a small device from his tactical belt. He knelt by the safe, attaching the device to the keypad.

"Give me a sec," he murmured, fingers tapping a few commands. The device beeped, numbers flickering across its small screen as it worked its way through possible combinations.

Soap leaned against the desk, arms crossed. "So, what? You just happen to know your dear old dad is funding Makarov and didn’t think that was worth mentioning before now?"

You shot him a sharp look. "I said I wasn’t naive. Doesn’t mean I had proof. He never told me anything outright, and I wasn’t exactly in a position to demand answers."

"You live in the same house," Gaz pointed out.

"And that means what? That I automatically know every secret he’s keeping?" You scoffed. "You think people like him just leave classified documents lying around the dining table? He kept things compartmentalized. All I had were suspicions."

Ghost’s device beeped again, and the safe clicked open. He pulled the door back, revealing stacks of neatly arranged files, a few USB drives, and bundles of foreign currency. Price stepped forward, flipping through one of the files.

"Bingo," he muttered. "Transfers, offshore accounts, direct links to Makarov’s network."

Gaz exhaled. "Looks like we just hit the jackpot."

Soap gave a low chuckle. "Maybe she’s not as useless as we thought."

You rolled your eyes but didn’t respond. Instead, you caught Ghost watching you, his gaze lingering a second too long before he turned back to the safe.

Price snapped the file shut. "We’re taking everything. But we’re not done here yet." He leveled you with a look. "Where does your father go when he doesn’t come home?"

You swallowed. "I don’t know exactly. But there’s one place he always talks about. A private estate outside Prague. I’ve never been, but… if he’s hiding, it’d be there."

Price nodded. "That’s our next move."

Ghost shut the safe, standing to his full height. "And what do we do with her?"

A tense silence followed. You suddenly felt very aware of how exposed you were. Price exchanged a look with Soap, then Ghost.

"We can’t leave her here," Gaz pointed out. "If her father comes back and finds the place torn apart, she’ll take the fall."

Soap smirked. "Guess she’s coming with us, then."

You blinked. "Excuse me?"

"You said you wanted to help," Price reminded you. "Congratulations. You just enlisted."

Ghost’s voice was quieter, but sharper. "That means you do exactly as we say. No questions."

You crossed your arms. "I don’t think I have much of a choice, do I?"

Soap grinned. "Smart girl."

You exhaled, heart pounding. There was no turning back now.

[cokoladasljesnjakom]

tag you're it

summary: shes a ruthless killer. she does not care if someone dies on her watch. her moves are like shadow. she is a shadow. once you see her, its too late. its not her problem. she cant complain, but what she can do is to complie. thats what is she made for. thats what they made her do. but once she escapes from their grasp, she searches for him. for her brother. but of course what goes around, comes around. and thats is when she meets him. the winter solider. and oh yeah the rest of the avengers.

bucky barnes x fem! reader

word count: 5.9k

a/n: sorry it took me years (a week) to write this down. i lost the motivation but the i got it back... somehow... anyways! shes here and im hoping someone is going to like it because my sleep schedule is fucked up so PLEASE LOVE ON HER! thank you for the reading! by the way if you cant tell this is SLOW burn... (GO READ SECOND PART RN!)

masterlist part iv

He escaped. The target had escaped. How dare he? He was supposed to be dead, not running, not hiding, not slipping through her fingers. Not from her.

Shadow stood frozen, her hands clenched into tight fists at her sides.

The man beside her spoke, voice sharp and impatient. "We have to go."

She didn’t move.

When she still didn’t respond, he snapped, "Now. The mission is messed up. It’s over. He escaped. You failed."

Failed.

That word echoed in her skull like a gunshot. No. It couldn’t be. She didn’t fail. She wasn’t supposed to fail. Not now. Not ever.

She was designed to kill. To shape history with bloodstained hands. To make people suffer while they begged for mercy that would never come.

The ruthless, cold assassin known as Shadow was not supposed to fail.

And yet, the mission was compromised.

A hand grabbed her arm, yanking her toward the black SUV waiting for them. Her boots scraped against the pavement, but she didn’t fight back. The realization of her failure was too heavy, suffocating her.

She slid into the car, staring blankly ahead as they drove away.

And yet—she couldn’t stop thinking about him. That man. The way he looked at her. Like he knew her. Like he had seen a ghost.

Something about him… it rattled her.

She tried to shove the thought away, but it clung to her, sinking into her bones. He wasn’t just another target. He was something else.

And she needed to know why.

Thirty minutes later, they arrived at the safe house. Every step inside made her stomach twist. Not out of fear—but because she knew what was coming.

The footsteps came first. Slow. Heavy.

She forced herself to stand still, to keep her face blank.

Then, a voice. Sharp. Cold. Unforgiving.

"Mission report. Now."

Her mouth opened. The words should have come easy. The usual, precise details, the confirmation of success.

But instead, she asked, "Who was that man in the car?"

The slap came fast and hard. Her head snapped to the side, the sting blooming across her cheek.

Not the first time. Not the last.

"No one you’re supposed to know," the thick Russian accent said. But he was lying.

She could feel it.

"He was a mission, and you failed."

The words cut deeper than the slap.

She took a slow breath, but it didn’t steady her.

Her handler stepped closer, grabbing her jaw, tilting her face up to his.

"Now what do I do with you, hm?" His voice was mocking. "Do I throw you in that room for days? Let you starve? Break you? Or..."

He trailed off, laughing darkly.

She swallowed, not daring to move.

"Or do I wipe you clean again? Make you forget, all over again?"

Her hands shook. She curled them into fists.

Then, softly—so softly she almost didn’t hear her own voice—she whispered, "I want to be free."

The laugh he let out was cruel. "No, you don’t. You don’t get to be free. You don’t get to feel free. You don’t get to think about freedom."

He leaned in, voice lowering to a venomous whisper.

"You don’t get to know what it feels like to have a family."

Something inside her cracked.

Family.

Tears burned in her eyes, but she refused to let them fall.

Because she had a family once.

A mother she had killed. A brother she had nearly destroyed.

And now?

Now, she didn’t even know his name.

not even thinking a second Vasily, the man in front of her demanded told the siencetists in russian "wipe her and make sure she freezes to death. she doesnt deserve to live after all this."

one of the man that worked here took her carefully under her arms and wiped her clean. the look he gave her was soft. he was sorry for her. for everything she had to go through.

he never actually wanted to be the part of this, but his family was in the picture and he had a daguhter maybe younger than her but they were close in the age.

to think that this can happen to his daguhter made him sick in the stomach. he never wanted for anyone to experience this kins of torturement.

she was tired and her eyes wanted to close badly. she wanted to fight ot off, but she couldnt.

"мне жаль" and she really was. all she wanted was to feel free. to feel the warmth in her dreams in real life too.

"я не хотел потерпеть неудачу" she only spoke russian when she needed to but this time she felt like she wanted to.

the man looked at her and wanted to comfort her, to give her something to hope for anything at this point. so he jsut whispered "я помогу тебе сбежать" he looked at her again and smiled at her.

and for the first time ever, she believed it.

then the another group of men took her and put her to a cyro alone. and all of her memories of her brother and mother? wiped clean. they dont exsist anymore.

while in the room next to hers, stood the infamous assassin. the winter solider. before named james buchanan barnes.

his mission went suscesfull. he eliminated the targed just perfect. clear shot through the skull and no signs of blood.

by the time he killed the person and hide the body, he was ready to go back. to his "home." where he belonged.

the footsteps were louder than he expected. sitting in a chair and waiting for the man that made him do the mission, he stated at the wall.

"mission report." the american accent said.

"mission suscesfull. target eliminated." same answer same mission. over and over again for 60 years.

"well done solider." the voice called out. it was cold and mocking.

suddenly a young man busted through the door and said "mr. pierce!" and alexander pierce turned around facing the young man.

however the man continued "shadow... she failed in her mission. shes put back in a cryo."

rolling his eyes he said "of course she would. for gods sake you are stupid enough to put her to kill him."

the man stuttered "we- we thought she was ready for this mission and she shiwed the signs that she had it all under control."

pierce laughed and grabbed the man by the collar choking him slightly "she was supposed to kill that idiot in the best way possible. i have given to you plenty of time to do that AND YOU DID IT IN THE MIDDLE OF A DAY?!"

the man now in the air chokjng in his own breath said "w-we thought maybe she is going to do it. the-the perfect shot but he just ran away and dissapeared." the man softly cried "we are sorry mr. pierce.

watching closely the winter solider gripped the armrest on the seat and took a slow and steady breath trying to calm his racing thoughts.

while pierce trying to shake off the feeling having his hands on the man smirked. thats what he wanted to happen. he wanted to break her. to rip her apart. to make her suffer and to destroy her. all of her memories that she had, he was planing to rewind them back all over again just for her to remember the one spesific memorie.

her family. her mom. her brother. her previous life that she had. when she was peacefull. when she was just 10 years old. making friends and trying to live her life, until that night happened.

where she was taken away from it. mom. brother. her family and all of her memories.

turning around to face the man he told him while taking the slow steps "next time dont be so stupid. or i swear to god ill make you beg me to end your life faster than you expect me to." he leaned down to a mans height "understand?"

the man now shaking and noding "yes mr. pierce. i understand. "

smiling to himself and patting the man on the shoulder he turned to the winter solider and asked him "you see that solider? we just made a deal."

dissmissing the man he turned to the solider and spoke the next words "now solider... if you dont want for the same thing to happen to you... you'll have to do your missions perfect. not good not okay but perfect." then he narrowed his eyes at the soldier "understand?"

the winter soldier looking straight at the wall emotionless noded his head "yes sir."

patting the solider on the arm he turned around and told the siencetists to wrap it up and put him on the ice.

walking out from the room, pierce's phone ringed making him stop in his tracks and huff when he saw an ID's caller. and before he could say a word a voice interrupted him.

"we need you back." a thick, gruff voice called out.

then a sarcastic laugh followed from pierce "yeah well I was on my way to do something and you just interrupted me nick."

nick however replied in the same tone as before "pierce this is important. come back as soon possible. you have an hour and a half. see you there."

and then the line went quiet. pierce now looking at the phone scoffed and murmured under his breath "asshole." and went off to the shield compound.

using his super hearing the solider listened to the conversation making the information hard to understand. what did the man know? was he trying to do something? where is pierce going? is this another mission? but soon enough his thoughts were interrupted by siencetists leading him in the capsicle making his thoughts freeze.

while the man from far away watched what was happening, his promise still lingered in his head. for more than 14 years he watched the young girl and a man getting tortured by hydra. their memories getting washed away again and again. every time when there was a mission to kill someone they were the one who got to do that, without asking them if they really want that.

now finally he had a chance to do something good. even if his life was in a danger. thinking something like that could happen to his daguhter made him to do this. shadow was someones daguhter too. the solider too. they were someone and it was eating him alive.

creating a plan how to get at least her out the man walked out from the room and started to make a plan.

MEANWHILE

The summer heat was unbearable, pressing down like a suffocating blanket. Even inside the apartment, the air felt thick.

Sam had just gotten back from his morning run, drenched in sweat and starving. He wiped his forehead with the back of his hand, kicking off his sneakers as he walked into the kitchen.

At the same time, Max trudged in, still half-asleep, hair a mess, eyes barely open. He didn’t bother with a greeting—just went straight to the fridge and grabbed some eggs and ham. Living alone meant cooking for himself, and since he barely knew how to cook, breakfast was usually the same thing.

Sam smirked, watching him fumble with the pan. "Look who finally decided to wake up." Max groaned. "Can you be quiet for like... five seconds? Thanks."

Sam chuckled, leaning against the counter and taking a long sip of his orange juice.

That’s when Max turned, looking at him like he had just committed a war crime.

Sam frowned. "Why are you looking at me like I just killed someone?"

Max squinted at the drink in his hand, full of nothing but judgment. "Why are you drinking orange juice?" He scoffed, shaking his head. "Apple juice is literally superior in every way."

Sam raised an eyebrow. "…Excuse me?"

"You heard me. Apple juice is better. You’re actually disgusting for drinking that."

Sam blinked, genuinely taken aback. "Because I like the texture? I like how thick it is, okay?"

Max visibly recoiled. "Jesus Christ. You’re actually insane." He shook his head in disappointment. "Like, actually brain dead."

Sam just stared at him for a second, then took another slow, deliberate sip of his thick orange juice. Max sighed. "I have lost all respect for you."

Sam smirked. "Good. Now shut up and eat your eggs." Max muttered something under his breath but didn’t argue further.

Sam let out a breathy laugh, still smirking. "What is up with you? You just woke up and you’re already walking on eggshells? Calm down, man."

Max didn’t respond, just finished cooking and dropped his breakfast onto a plate. Then, without breaking eye contact, he poured himself a glass of apple juice.

Lifting the cup to his lips, he took a slow sip—staring directly at Sam—before sitting down at the table and digging into his eggs and ham.

"There’s nothing wrong with me," he said finally. "But you? Waking up at—what?—5 AM? Running around like a lunatic? AND drinking orange juice?" He shook his head, clicking his tongue.

"That’s a crime, dude. A literal jail sentence."

Maintaining eye contact, Sam took another slow sip of his orange juice, dragging it out just to make a point. Then, without a word, he walked over to the table, pulling out a chair and sitting down with an easy, unbothered confidence.

"Yeah, yeah." He waved Max off like his opinion didn’t matter. "Anyway, when you’re actually awake—like, fully awake—and freshened up, because damn, you look like shit, man, I need you to be wide awake for the conversation we’re gonna have."

That got Max’s attention. He paused mid-bite, brow furrowing. "What conversation?"

Sam didn’t answer. He just stood up, stretched, and started walking toward his room. "You’ll see." And with that, he disappeared, leaving Max alone at the table.

For a moment, Max just sat there, staring at his plate, replaying Sam’s words in his head. 'What does he want? At 8 AM? Who even talks at this time?'

He sighed, checking the clock—8:07 AM. Way too early for anything serious. Still, something about the way Sam said it nagged at him. With a shake of his head, Max shoved the last bite of eggs and ham into his mouth and downed the rest of his apple juice. God, he loved apple juice. Seriously, he could kiss the person who invented that stuff.

Plate in the dishwasher. Bathroom. Fresh clothes. All done in 15 minutes.

Finally stepping into the living room, he found Sam already there, casually lounging like he didn’t just drop a cryptic bomb on him. Max narrowed his eyes. "Alright, dude. I’m awake. What the hell is so important?"

"I found the HYDRA base she’s in." A punch to the ribs. A fist squeezing his lungs. Max’s body froze. Then everything sped up. His heartbeat wasn’t beating anymore—it was slamming. Pounding so hard he thought it might break through his ribs. His breathing was off, wrong, useless. He tried to pull in air, but it wasn’t enough. Not enough.

The world cracked open. No—it collapsed.

Everything hit him at once, a tidal wave of too much, too fast, too loud. Sam’s words were still there, hanging in the air, but they didn’t feel real. They didn’t feel like words at all.

The fridge hummed. The clock ticked. Sam’s chair creaked. Too loud. Too fucking loud. His mind was screaming at him, Why did you let her go? You could have stopped them. His hand was small, too small to pull her away, but he should have tried harder. If he had just reached farther, if he had screamed louder, if he had done anything differently, maybe she wouldn’t have been taken.

Max’s breath hitched again. Why didn’t you save her? He felt like he was suffocating under the weight of that thought. The thought that had haunted him for years—that he hadn’t done enough, that he hadn’t been enough.

'If I had tried harder. If I had just been stronger.' He remembered the look on her face as they pulled her away. The way her eyes locked with his, desperate, begging. Please, Max. Please save me. And he couldn't. The floodgates opened. Her hand—small and desperate—reached out for him. She was begging for him to save her, and he had failed her.

Why didn’t you do more? Max’s throat closed up, and the panic rose again. His body was trembling, shaking in a way that felt so foreign, so uncontrollable, he couldn’t stand it. His chest was tight, but his hands were ice cold. He felt like his skin didn’t belong to him anymore.

And then, like a flood of dread that washed over him, the memories came crashing through—louder, sharper, heavier. He could still hear their mom crying. The desperation in her voice when she begged them to take her instead, to leave her alone. He could still feel her, right there, clinging to them, helpless, powerless.

Why didn’t I do anything? Tears burned his eyes. He wanted to scream, wanted to throw up. But no sound would come out.

His mind was a mess of memories and regret, spiraling so quickly that he couldn’t catch his breath, couldn’t catch his thoughts.

I couldn’t save her. I never could.

He wanted to smash his fist into the wall, punch something, anything, just to stop the overwhelming flood of emotions that were drowning him.

Sam’s voice cut through the chaos like a lifeline, but Max could barely grasp onto it. His hands were trembling. His heart was hammering. His lungs—his lungs felt like they were being crushed. "Max, breathe. Just breathe with me. Four in… hold… four out." The words were far away, muffled by the chaos in his head, but he latched onto them like they were his only chance of survival.

He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to focus. Focus. Focus on something.

But the guilt was still there, clawing at his chest. He had failed her. He had failed his sister. If he hadn’t been so small, so weak, maybe he could have stopped them. "Maybe I could have been strong enough to save her." But he hadn’t been. He wasn’t.

I wasn’t enough. The guilt wrapped itself around him, tightening until he couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. She’s still out there, Max, and you’re still sitting here like you can’t do a damn thing.

He felt the walls closing in, felt the air in the room getting thick again. God, just breathe, please breathe.

Sam’s words repeated in his ears, soft and steady: "We’re going to save her, okay? We’re going to do this together. But you need to stay calm."

Max wanted to scream. He wanted to punch the wall, to break something, to do anything to make the pain go away. But he knew if he didn’t calm down, if he didn’t find a way to fight the panic that was pulling him under, he wouldn’t be able to save her.

I can’t lose her.

Sam’s hands were on him, steadying him, grounding him. The steady pressure was like a beacon in the storm. But Max couldn’t shake the feeling that he was still going to lose her.

What if I don’t save her? What if I fail again?

I can’t fail again.

Slowly, his breath began to even out, but the guilt didn’t go away. It lingered, hanging over him like a dark cloud. He wiped the tears from his eyes, muttering to himself, barely able to keep his voice steady.

“I’m… I’m not going to fail her again. I can’t.”

Sam, seeing that Max had finally calmed down, let out a breath and leaned back in his chair. "You’re not going to lose it, okay? You’ve got me, man. We’re going to get her out. Of course, if you fuck something up while we’re doing it, then yeah, your ass is on its own." He smirked, hoping to get at least a flicker of a smile out of Max.

And somehow, it worked.

A small, tired smile broke through the tension on Max’s face. It wasn’t much, but it was enough—the room didn’t feel as suffocating anymore. Air actually reached his lungs. It had been a long time since he’d had a panic attack this bad, and even longer since he’d let himself feel just a little bit okay afterward. But this? This was his life now. The panic, the overthinking, the feeling of his own breath catching in his throat like barbed wire. He had learned to live with it, even when it felt like it was killing him.

"What?" Sam raised a brow. "I got something on my face?"

Max furrowed his brows, taking a deep breath. His voice was rough when he finally spoke. "No… it’s just…" He trailed off, trying to steady himself, trying not to slip back under.

His fingers twitched against his knee. His heart still felt like it was trying to break out of his ribs. "I need to find her, Sam. I have to save her—" the words caught in his throat. His breath hitched. He squeezed his eyes shut for just a second, like that would be enough to stop the rush of panic creeping back up his spine.

Max blinked hard. His breathing was turning shallow again, too quick. He clenched his jaw and shut his eyes, desperate to block it out, but it was right there. The echo of his own voice, five years old and screaming himself hoarse: “Give her back! Please—don’t take her, take me instead!”

No one listened. No one ever listened.

Sam’s voice cut through the noise. "Hey—breathe. Just breathe."

Breathe. Just breathe.

Max opened his eyes, forcing a deep inhale, then another.

He nodded, wiping his hands against his jeans like that would stop them from shaking. “I can’t—I won’t lose her again.”

This time, Sam didn’t tease. He just nodded, serious now. “We won’t.”

He lifted his gaze to Sam, his voice barely above a whisper, but heavy, so heavy. “Every time I close my eyes, I see her, Sam.” His throat felt raw, like he had been screaming for years. In a way, he had.

“She’s reaching for me. Like—like I’m supposed to save her. Like I could have saved her.” His breath stuttered, his vision blurring. “And every damn time, I fail. I keep failing her. I keep failing Mom.” His hands curled into fists so tight his nails dug into his skin, but the pain wasn’t enough to drown out the memories. “I should have done something. Anything. But I just—stood there.”

His voice broke, and for a second, he thought he might shatter with it.

Sam didn’t hesitate. He gripped Max’s shoulder, firm and steady, like an anchor. “I know, man,” he said, his voice rough with something close to grief. “I know. But you listen to me—she’s still out there. And she’s alive.”

Alive.

That word lodged itself in Max’s ribs, sharp and relentless. For years, he had imagined the worst. Had convinced himself that maybe it was better not to hope. That hope was a cruel, twisted thing that only made the fall hurt more.

But Sam—Sam believed it like it was the only truth that mattered. Sam exhaled slowly, his grip tightening. “We’re going to get her back, Max. I swear it.”

Max stared at him, searching his face for any sign of doubt. There was none. Just that unshakable, stubborn loyalty that had held him together more times than he could count.

Something inside him cracked, and before he could stop himself, he pulled Sam into a tight, desperate embrace. His body shook, but he didn’t care. “Thank you,” he whispered, his voice wrecked. “For everything.”

Sam clapped a hand against his back, not letting go. “You’re my brother, man,” he said, quiet but fierce. “Always.”

And for the first time in years, Max allowed himself to believe it.

Not waisting a minute max asked sam with a glint in his eyes "So whats the plan genius?" and Sam replied with a smirk on his face "Thought youre never going to ask."

AT THE S.H.I.E.L.D’S COMPOUND -

Pierce stepped out of his car, smoothing his suit as he made his way to the elevator. He pressed the button for the top floor, his face impassive, but his mind was already turning. "World Security Council."

"Confirmed."

As the elevator ascended, he replayed Fury’s message. “We need to talk. Urgently.”

No details. No context. And that? That wasn’t Fury’s style.

Pierce exhaled through his nose. Was this about her? No. Couldn’t be. He had buried that truth so deep it might as well not exist. If this was just another pointless security briefing, he was going to be pissed.

The doors slid open with a soft chime. He stepped out, pushed open his office door—

And found Fury. Sitting in his chair.

Pierce stopped just inside the doorway, his grip tightening slightly on the handle before he let it go. “You make yourself at home in everyone’s office, or is this a special occasion?”

Fury didn’t react, just leveled his gaze at him.

Pierce sighed, letting a casual smirk settle on his face. “What is it, Fury? Forgot your password again? Or—” he gestured to his eye with a smirk, “—misplaced another one?”

Fury didn’t take the bait. “Sit down, Pierce.”

The humor in Pierce’s expression didn’t reach his eyes. “I am sitting, technically.” He leaned a hip against the desk, folding his arms. “Now why don’t you tell me why I’m here instead of wasting my time.”

Fury stood, slow and deliberate, crossing his arms as he took a step forward. His voice was calm, but heavy. “December 25, 2006.”

Pierce gave a slow blink, but inside, something locked into place.

“Ring any bells?” Fury asked.

Pierce tilted his head. “Christmas?” He let the word hang, feigning indifference. “What, are you feeling sentimental?”

Fury wasn’t amused. “That was the day we were supposed to wipe out a Hydra base.” He stepped closer, his voice lowering. “Shut them down. Sabotage their entire operation. Make sure they never got back up again.”

Pierce kept his expression even. “That mission went south. Things happen.”

Fury exhaled sharply through his nose. “Things happen?” He shook his head. “A ghost tore through our team that night. She wasn’t even old enough to drive, and she damn near wiped us out.”

Pierce gave the slightest incline of his head. “And?”

Fury’s eye narrowed. “She took my eye. Almost took your life. And now—eight years later—she’s back.” He tossed a file onto the desk between them.

Pierce looked down at it but didn’t move.

“Over a hundred assassinations in those years,” Fury continued. “Then, last week, she tried again.”

Pierce finally lifted the file, flipping it open with practiced ease. The name staring back at him made his pulse slow, measured.

Y/N Harrison.

Fury spoke again. “Her target?” He let the weight of it settle. “Max Harrison. Her own brother.” Pierce barely reacted, but the air in the room shifted.

Fury took another step. “You know what doesn’t sit right with me?” He tapped a finger on the desk. “Why she just—vanished. Why there’s nothing on her for years. And now, all of a sudden, she resurfaces hunting her own blood?” He let the question hang, watching Pierce.

Pierce slowly closed the file. His grip on it didn’t tighten, didn’t betray anything. But inside? His mind was already moving three steps ahead.

Fury kept his eye locked on him. “I’m gonna find out why, Pierce.” He started toward the door. “And when I do—” he glanced over his shoulder, voice lower, darker, “—I hope you’re on the right side of it.”

The door shut behind him.

Pierce stayed still, staring at the file in his hands..The name on the page burned into his vision. He had erased this. Made sure she was nothing but whispers and smoke. But somehow, Fury had cracked the foundation.

Slowly, Pierce exhaled. Then, reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his phone and dialed.

A voice picked up immediately.

“Burn it.” Pierce’s voice was flat, emotionless. “Everything. Every file, every record. Fury’s onto her.”

The person on the other end hesitated. “Sir, that would mean—”

“That’s the point.” Pierce cut them off. His grip on the phone was steady. “Do it. Now.”

Silence. Then: “Understood.”

Pierce hung up, tossing the phone onto his desk as he leaned back in his chair.

He had spent years building walls around this secret..And now? The cracks were starting to show.

HYDRA’S FACILITY -

The man’s breath came fast and shallow as he hurried down the corridor, gripping the files like they might slip through his fingers. His hands were sweating. Not just from the heat trapped in the underground facility, but from what he was about to do.

He had spent years collecting this data. Cross-referencing. Double-checking. Piecing together fragments of information into a weapon sharper than any blade. And now, with one phone call, Pierce had ordered it all erased.

It was like setting fire to a masterpiece.

He swallowed hard as he reached the old terminal, its outdated screen flickering dimly in the dark room. The keys felt stiff under his fingers as he typed in his credentials. The system took longer than it should to respond, forcing him to stare at his own reflection in the black monitor while he waited. His heart pounded.

Then—there it was. The archive.

Decades of classified information. Projects. Identities. Secrets Hydra had buried so deep they shouldn’t exist. And soon, they wouldn’t. His hand shook as he moved the cursor to the DELETE ALL command. It was simple. Just a click. One click, and it would all be gone. His index finger twitched. He couldn’t do it. Not yet.

His eyes darted to the TRANSFER option.

A different kind of anxiety curled in his stomach. His rational mind screamed at him—this is treason. If anyone caught him, he wouldn’t even get the dignity of an execution. He’d just disappear.

But another voice whispered: It’s not wrong to keep a copy. Not everything. Just the important files. Just enough.

His breathing grew uneven.

His hand hovered over the mouse, his fingers tingling like they weren’t even his own.

The walls of the room felt like they were closing in. He had spent years building this database. Hydra had spent centuries constructing its empire. And he was about to erase it like it was nothing?

He pressed his fist against his forehead, squeezing his eyes shut.

Then, in a sudden burst of defiance, his fingers flew across the keyboard. He selected a handful of critical files—the most valuable data Hydra had. The ones no one should ever have access to… but someone had to.

His pulse was a hammer in his ears.

The TRANSFER IN PROGRESS bar crawled forward, each percentage point making his stomach twist tighter.

Come on. Come on.

His foot tapped anxiously against the floor. The room felt smaller. His skin prickled with heat.

Then—TRANSFER COMPLETE.

He barely let himself breathe before shoving the drive into his pocket. He had what he needed.

Now came the hard part.

His hand clenched into a fist as he forced himself to move the mouse again. Slowly, hesitantly, he guided the cursor back to the DELETE ALL button. His finger trembled, hovering over it.

For a second, he thought about stopping. Thought about keeping it all.

But that was suicide.

With a deep, shuddering breath, he squeezed his eyes shut and clicked.

CONFIRM DELETION?

The final warning. A last chance to back out.

He hesitated.

Then, before he could lose his nerve—

CLICK.

It was done.

The screen blinked. The files—the ones he hadn’t saved—began vanishing before his eyes. Line by line. Folder by folder. Years of Hydra’s work, turning to dust.

His stomach churned.

He stood up too fast, nearly knocking the chair over as he grabbed the physical files and turned toward the door. His hand trembled as he swiped his keycard, the door locking behind him with a dull click.

It was over.

Or at least, this part was.

He forced himself to breathe, to swallow down the nausea curling in his gut.

He had saved something. A piece of history. And no one would ever know.

At least… that’s what he told himself.

From the shadows of the corridor, another man watched. Unlike the scientist, his hands weren’t shaking. He wasn’t nervous. He was waiting. Calculating. In his palm, he held a small device—a custom override chip. It wasn’t enough to crack the system entirely, but with the right access…

His gaze flicked to the scientist’s keycard.

That was the way in.

The man—Ivan—knew exactly what he needed to do. He had done unspeakable things for Hydra. Followed orders without question. But this? This was different.

This was about her. He was going to get her out. No matter what it took. His mind was already forming a plan when— "Тсс, Иван, что ты здесь делаешь?"

Ivan stiffened. The voice was sharp, laced with suspicion.

Turning, he found himself face-to-face with a lab technician. Thick glasses framed the man’s beady eyes, his white coat hanging loosely over his thin frame. He was watching Ivan carefully, expectantly.

Ivan forced a breath, pressing a hand to his chest like he was steadying his heart. “Ах, не пугай меня так.”

The technician didn’t flinch. He simply repeated the question.

Ivan hesitated for half a second—then exhaled sharply, feigning frustration. “Эээ, я хотел пойти поесть, но блокнот выпал у меня из рук.” He gestured vaguely toward the floor as if proving his point.

The technician squinted at him. Then, after a moment, he gave a curt nod. “Ну, ну… просто возвращайся. Ты нужен нам в лаборатории.”

Ivan nodded quickly. “Скоро буду.”

The technician turned and walked off, leaving Ivan alone once more.

He didn’t move for a moment, letting the tension bleed from his muscles.

Then, finally, he turned back to the door.

He still needed that keycard. Still needed to get to the files. And still needed to free her.

But first?

He needed a plan.

Back in the cold, sterile chamber, she stood frozen in cryo—locked in time, trapped in silence. No thoughts. No movement. No feeling. Then—a twitch. Just her fingers, barely noticeable. But it was enough.

If she woke up, there would be no alarms, no time to react. One punch. One snap of the neck. One second. That’s all it would take for bodies to hit the ground. No screams, no struggle. Just dead weight collapsing onto cold concrete.

Across the hall, in another chamber, he stood frozen too. The Winter Soldier.

Once, he was Bucky Barnes. A man. A soldier. A friend. But that version of him had been buried beneath blood and metal, his name carved away like it never existed. Now, he was nothing but a weapon. Cold. Precise. Controlled.

Orders were given. He obeyed. Targets were marked. He killed. No hesitation. No mercy. No questions.

And yet, something cracked in the programming.

It happened every time they crossed paths, even in passing. Just for a second. A flicker of recognition—something human clawing at the edges of their minds. A moment of clarity, suffocating under the weight of their conditioning.

They wanted to speak. To ask. To remember. To scream.

And then—the switch flipped back.

Their bodies locked. Their minds erased.

No hesitation. No mercy.

What goes around, comes around.

And soon, something was coming for them.

One mission. One mistake. One fracture in the system.

And when it happened?

No one would be ready for it.

TO BE CONTINUED...

the translation -

мне жаль - im sorryя

не хотел потерпеть неудачу - i didnt want to fail

я помогу тебе сбежать - i will help you escape / i will help you out

Тсс, Иван, что ты здесь делаешь - hey! what are you doing here?

Ах, не пугай меня так - ah dont scare me like that

Эээ, я хотел пойти поесть, но блокнот выпал у меня из рук - Uh, I wanted to go get something to eat, but my notebook fell out of my hands

Ну, ну… просто возвращайся. Ты нужен нам в лаборатории - okay, okay... just come back. we need you back at the lab

Скоро буду - i'll be there soon

[reds-hoodies]

I feel like on icy-cold days Dick would be sure to pull his siblings aside and absolutely smother their faces with Vaseline before heading out. It’s something his mom used to do if they ever stopped somewhere snowy to perform.

But why is he so agressive with it?? It’s like a solid minute and a half of him just smooshing their faces around like he’s kneading dough or something😭

“Gotta make sure every inch of skin is covered!” He’d say.

It has to be a test of their abilities, they all think, because they nearly pass out every time. Dick tries to reshape their fucking skull with the grease and they’re holding their breath because they don’t want to accidentally get it in their mouth.

When he was younger, Jason used to sit through it no problem. He’d whine a little at first, but he wouldn’t complain. He honestly was just happy to be doted on by his older brother. Now though, he snatches the tub away from him and applies it himself. Dick tries to get the places he missed, but his hand gets slapped. And then he swipes his hand down the front of Jason’s face and runs away lol

Tim knows this hack but hates the feeling on his face. He stops in his tracks as soon as he spots Dick standing at the door with the Vaseline tub. Should he sprint back up the stairs to his room and hide? It’s tempting… But ultimately he just sighs in defeat and makes his way over to Dick.

He knows if he tries to run away, all that’ll come out of it is a broken chandelier, a torn jacket, and a greasy face. Might as well just get the greasy face without the broken stuff.

He’s learned.

Now Damian, he loves his brother, he does. But there is no way in hell he’s having that petroleum jelly touch his face. Try as he might to get away, bobbing and weaving out of Dicks reach, he always gets snatched up by one of the others (Jason) and is held down as he gets smothered. It’s all “Pthbt pthbt ptthhbhth” because he wouldn’t stop yelling and got some of it in his mouth 😔

He comes out of it looking like a wet, grumpy cat.

Dick is satisfied his brothers are ready for the cold. Shiny faces and all.

[haveyouseenthisskeleton]

What do the skeleboys think about the bone museum in NY?

I didn't even know that was a thing ahah

Undertale Sans - Sans is so interested it's scary. He's completely ignoring you, including when you tell him it's time to go, as he stubbornly immediately turns around to hide deep into the museum, so it takes hours for you to find him. Sans loves museums... A bit too much lol. It's on these trips that you can tell he's just as autistic as his brother.

Undertale Papyrus - Despite your best attempt to stop him, Papyrus will complain that these skeletons are all wrong, and will happily undress to show what a real skeleton looks like and the bones that are bad. You can beg him to not do that and explain him those are human skeletons and so they are different, he will tell you that this is all nonsense. You are desperate.

Underswap Sans - He's still dubitative about how you're holding all of these bones inside your bodies. Don't you feel oppressed? How does it even work? He's shivering just thinking about your skeleton squeezed inside of your muscles and skin. That's weird, he doesn't like it.

Underswap Papyrus - Honey is not sure what he thinks about all of this. I mean, it's interesting and everything, but... Isn't it intimate or something? They're exposing dead people like they're random antique objects. He would for sure hate to be exposed in a museum after his death.

Underfell Sans - You ask him to not touch anything, and he won't as long as you don't look away from him. The second you turn your back, you hear a big thump. When you turn around, one of the skeletons has exploded on the floor, and Red mysteriously disappeared lol. You swear you can't take him anywhere.

Underfell Papyrus - He's confused. Why would you make a museum to tell the world your skeleton is fragile and that you can be killed easily by breaking some parts of it? Don't you have any survival instincts??? What if someone uses these pieces of information against you? Aren't you scared? He's flabbergasted, honestly.

Horrortale Sans - Ok, maybe taking him there wasn't your most brilliant idea. You forgot about the trauma section. Oak is awfully quiet in front of the broken skulls, just looking SAD, especially in front of that skull that had a huge hole in it like his, and the ones that had their eyes extracted. Yeah, you can kind of understand why he's not that comfortable all of a sudden.

Horrortale Papyrus - Willow feels uncomfortable. He's really big, and all these bones are really small and fragile, and he's a bit worried about accidentally breaking something because he's too big. He's pretty much standing in safe corners and nodding whenever you're saying something to him, not daring to get too close. He's happy when you say you visited everything and that it's time to leave.

Swapfell Sans - You better not joke with him by making a skeleton move "magically" or he's going to scream at the top of his lungs and runs to the exit, never to be seen again. He hates creepy things, that's already a miracle you convinced him to go inside, but he warns you that if he hears anything about a ghost, he's out of that building.

Swapfell Papyrus - So what you're saying is that you took him to a place dedicated to giving attention to other skeletons but not him. Rus walks straight to a group of people doodling a random skeleton, throws the skeleton away with his magic, takes off all of his clothes, and goes to pose for them, looking you straight in the eyes the entire time. Who's the jealous one now, uh?!

Fellswap Gold Sans - He's mostly silent, but you can see him wince when he dares to touch a little some of the skeletons. He really doesn't like the feeling of this. These are bones, but they're not like his bones, and he hates touching them. He's also quite shocked about the number of spines and skulls exposed in the museum. How many people died so that the museum can exist? And you told monsters they were bad for killing 6 children???? What's wrong with you?

Fellswap Gold Papyrus - He came with a little notebook so he can doodles a few things, but, uh, you came with your service dog and turns out that your dog is a lot more interesting than the random skulls and bones. He comes out of there with a doodle notebook full of drawings of your dog... And one of a skeleton at the end so you don't get mad about buying him a ticket lol.

[bright-hope-spot-19]

Anyways, gonna put this under a read more. For context, I've watched a video on YouTube trying to justify why Narusaku would've made more sense than Sasusaku, and as you can imagine, the comments section had people rightfully hating on SS but by siding with Sakura and putting the whole blame on Sasuke, accusing him of being an abuser and whatnot. So, this is a response to those people under the cut:

Can Sakura stans please, stop blaming Sasuke for Sasusaku? Accusing him of being abusive or that he doesn't deserve her, cause she should've ended up with Naruto, Rock-Lee, or worse, there's also the girlies who believe Sakura was a closeted lesbian and had feelings for Ino! When she's as straight as a ruler, lol. Sasuke never wanted Sakura. He told her on multiple occasions that he doesn't want her. That he thinks she's annoying, that Naruto and Itachi are the only bonds he cares about. She's the one who kept obsessively simping and chasing after him, and crying and pouting like a baby, whenever he didn't pay attention to her.

The scene in the war arc, where she tried to act all cool by charging at Madara in his sague of 6 paths form, unable to see his clones and Sasuke and Naruto had to rescue her? She was doing it for Sasuke's attention cause she pouts and gets sad when she sees he doesn't care about her. When Kaguya showed up and she started switching dimensions and at one point switched to a lava dimension, and they started falling? Sasuke summoned his hawk and chose to rescue only Naruto, even when Naruto had the unlocked ability to levitate while ignoring Kakashi and Sakura. If it weren't for Kashi, Sakura would've fallen into the lava and died. Same with him covering team 7 with his Susanoo when the Tsukuyomi was first launched: he explicitly said he only wanted to protect Naruto cause he was necessary to end the war, he didn't care bout Kashi and Sakura. They just got lucky to be standing next to Naruto when it happened.

At one point, before Sasuke put her in that genjutsu of him stabbing her through the chest, she literally started crying and complaining about him not loving her or caring about her, to the point that, Kakashi started coddling her as he always does, also insisting to Sasuke that 'Sakura's feelings are pure and genuine and she only cares about him and how can he not see that.'

Sasuke tried making it clear to her time and time again that he's not interested, yet she cannot for the life of her, get it through her thick skull and leave him alone. Guys, Sarada canonically exists, only cause Sakura kept harassing Sasuke on his travels outta the village and chasing after him, until he gave in and fucked her. In one of the Naruto novels (not the trash written by Jun Esaka. I think it was Sakura retsuden or hidden or smth). She herself has a line saying that she'd never stop chasing Sasuke, and would keep insisting and harassing him till he accepted her feelings. That's highkey criminal behavior. She's a stalker and she asked for the loveless marriage she's stuck in now. That's what she wanted. She should've known with that 'oh so great intelligence of her' (note the sarcasm) before she started chasing him that it was very likely she'd end up pregnant and a single mother to boot. Because Sasuke doesn't love her.

It's further proven in Boruto, in that one arc where Sarada first meets Sasuke and shit? Heavily implying Sasuke never kissed her, and when he sees Sakura injured from her fight with Shin (the weirdo with the multiple sharingan ) he barely shows any concern, he's just like 'yeah, you can heal yourself, whatever'. At the end of the arc when he's leaving again, he just gives her a look and doesn't even bother with a forehead poke (and it's not a signal of love like SS fans like to believe).

SS is a trash ship and not because of Sasuke who got dragged into it against his will, ruining his character in the process, but solely because of Sakura. She's not the victim just cause she's a girl, ya'll. She's the active perpetrator. If the roles were switched and Sasuke was the one obsessively chasing Sakura everyone would recognize that behavior as toxic and criminal, but just because she's the one doing it and Sasuke constantly refused her she's a victim? Utter bs, lol.

[broareweabouttoviberightnow]

Dallas wrestles Curly to the ground 'n when the little shit doesn't stop fightin', he bites him.

"OW, you asshole!" Curly wriggles around fruitlessly beneath Dallas' bony knees and when he can't get out, he reaches up and grabs for a fistful of Dallas' hair. Dallas sees it comin' 'n dives backwards out of the way, jabbin' Curly in the ribs. Curly uses the opportunity to shove Dallas hard off of him. Dally stumbles back and jumps to his feet, ready for Curly to do somethin' cheap like go for his ankles.

And then Curly does somethin' he's never done. Ever. He stops fightin'.

Dallas hesitates, blinkin' down at Curly starin' holes in the carpet. "C'mon asshole, you're not fakin' me out. I only fall for that shit once."

Curly glares up and Dallas and his eyes are wet and Dallas thinks fuck, if I broke that kid's arm again Tim is going to kill me. For good this time. He's beginning to wonder idly whether he'll bury him under the shed or just leave his ass out in an alley when Curly shoots up.

"Why the fuck aren't you ever like this with Pony?" The shock hits Dallas so hard he drops his fists.

"What?" Curly stares at him hard, hands clenchin' 'n unclenchin' at his side, eyes still shinin' in the low livin' room light.

"You'd never kick the shit out of Pony like you do to me." Oh holy fuckin' hell.

"Yeah, I do." Dallas rolls his eyes, drops down into the Shepard's threadbare couch. It's busted as hell, whatever pattern it may have once had faded 'n ripped 'n stained over the years.

"No, you don't!" Curly's damn near yellin' now but only Dallas glances at the apartment door. Not that the other tenants aren't used to it by now. And it's definitely not like they'd complain.

"Yeah, the hell, I do. I nearly put the kid's head through the wall last week. And Darry damn near cracked my skull for it." Dallas rolls his eyes. He's exaggeratin' a bit but he was damned if he was gonna tell Curly that Darry had lectured him like a kid and made him do the fuckin' dishes.

"Oh, great." Curly tosses his hair out of his eyes in a way that reminds Dallas of the ponys down at Buck's. Or Soda. Same difference. "So you only beat the shit out of me because Tim won't kick your ass for it." Curly stomps his foot and whips around, makin' for the hall.

"Oh my God." Dallas slides off the couch 'n grabs Curly's wrist before he can go far. Curly twists as hard as he can but Dallas holds him tight and the only thing he gets for his troubles is rug burn. "Give me a second before you do the whole run to your room 'n slam the door thing. Tim might be takin' Darry's advice about privacy 'n space 'n all that bull but I'm sure not. 'N I will come after your ass."

Curly stops fightin' 'n opts for scowlin' at Dallas, leanin' so there's as much room between them as possible. "Fuckin' fine."

"Well, I'll tell you somethin' both you 'n Pony have in common." Curly blinks wide, dark eyes at him 'n Dallas rolls his eyes. "You're both fuckin' stupid."

Curly kicks at the carpet 'n Dallas drops his wrist. "Pony's not stupid." Dallas flicks his ear hard 'n Curly yelps 'n socks Dallas in the stomach.

"Yeah, the hell he is. 'N so are you." Curly throws his hands up, makes for the door again. Dallas shoots one foot out 'n Curly comes down hard on the wood floor.

"OW, man, I can't even go to my own room in my own fuckin' house in peace with you around."

"No, you can't 'cause I'm not done talkin', stupid." Dallas crouches down so they're both sprawled in the hall. "I don't beat the shit out of Pony because he's... I dunno. He's softer."

Curly narrows his eyes but doesn't interrupt so Dallas just plows on ahead.

"Curly, you wouldn't allow anyone to do half the shit that the Curtis boys do. Ain't nobody callin' you honey or baby or any of that shit." Curly wrinkles his nose up 'n Dallas raises his eyebrows like that much is obvious. "'N you don't fight like the Curtis'. Last time I broke Steve's arm before the Curtis parents, well whatever, Mr. C nearly put my ass out on the street for good. Last time you broke my ribs we went out for Dairy Queen."

Curly leans back on his hands, stops lookin' wary just long enough to laugh. "God, the one down near the end of The Ribbon? I'm still banned from there, y'know? 'Cause I slammed your head into the voice box thingy."

"Can you shut up for five seconds?" Curly kicks a foot out at him 'n Dallas half-heartedly bats it away. "Pony 'n you are just... different people. Don't mean I like him more or nothin'."

Curly studies him with big eyes 'n Dallas can't help but think they had that shit in common too. Sometimes Pony could make him feel like a pinned spider just bein' picked apart.

"Alright, fine." Curly clambers to his feet, offers his hand to haul Dallas up. Dally takes it, then promptly yanks the kid into a hug. It scares both of them a lil' how Curly melts straight into it.

But then Curly jabs Dallas in the stomach and makes a break for the door and Dallas cackles 'n dives after him.

"Hey, let's go to Dairy Queen." Curly snatches Tim's keys off the table and they both spit into wide, connivin' grins.

"Long as I get to put a dent in Tim's bumper." Curly tosses Dallas the ring and Dallas snatches them out of the air. He grabs a bandaid from the cabinet 'n presses it into Curly's hand as he makes for the door. "For the bite."

"You probably gave me fuckin' rabies or somethin'."

"Yeah, well, it's my way of sayin' love ya kid."