#slipping and putting their loved ones in danger

[angelofthenight01]

A dog accident

Wanda Maximoff x Reader

genre: flufy  ||     warnings: none

Summary: On an ordinary afternoon, your girlfriend's crazy friend turns you into a furry four-legged being

You're dating Wanda Maximoff, which in itself is already pretty fantastical. You, a self-proclaimed dork who still gets excited about new socks, are going out with a genuine superhero. It's a love story for the ages, or at least one that you’re constantly trying not to overthink.

And then there’s Agatha Harkness. The woman is an enigma wrapped in a slightly dusty velvet cloak. She's Wanda's sort-of-mentor, sort-of-friend, and a full-time chaos generator. You’ve learned to accept her as a permanent fixture in your life, mostly because Wanda adores her, and partially because you suspect refusing would end with you inexplicably speaking only in limericks.

It's a quiet Saturday. You're sprawled on the couch, a book about the migratory patterns of garden snails open in your lap, but your mind is decidedly elsewhere. You’re replaying a particularly smooth move Wanda pulled in the kitchen last night while making pancakes. It was the way she flicked her wrist, sending the pancake soaring and landing perfectly on the plate. You’ve been practicing it for hours but the closest you've gotten has been flicking butter across the room. You’re shaken out of your reverie by Agatha bursting through the front door with the subtlety of a rhinoceros in a tutu.

“Wanda darling! I need… a thing!” she declares, holding up a glass jar filled with something that looks suspiciously like glowing pond scum. “For… research!”

Wanda, looking as serene and beautiful as ever, emerges from the kitchen, wiping her hands on a tea towel. “Agatha, what is that?” she asks, a hint of amusement in her voice.

“Oh, just a few… essential ingredients for a spell. Nothing to worry your pretty little head about.” Agatha’s smile is a little too wide, a little too manic. You’ve learned that this is her default I’m about to do something incredibly stupid expression.

You, meanwhile, have retreated further into the cushions, trying to become one with the couch. You’re pretty sure you’re invisible, like a well-camouflaged houseplant.

“And you,” Agatha says, pointing a crooked finger directly at you. “You’ll be the perfect… subject!”

Your heart does a little tap dance in your chest. “Subject?” you squeak, your voice cracking like a teenage boy going through puberty.

Wanda looks at you with a mixture of concern and fondness. “Agatha, put the pond scum down. You know you can’t just experiment on random people.” She glares at Agatha with a look that could melt steel.

“Nonsense!” Agatha waves her hand dismissively, which is a mistake because the jar of pond scum slips from her grasp, the green liquid splashing all over you. "Whoops!"

Before you can even register what happened, a peculiar tingling sensation washes over you. Your vision blurs, your limbs feel weirdly heavy, and you feel an uncontrollable urge to scratch behind your ear with your foot.

You blink, and the world suddenly looks a whole lot larger. The couch now looms like a terrifying mountain range, and Wanda, the woman you love, is towering over you looking like an adorable giant. You let out a curious bark.

“Oh. My.” Wanda says slowly, her eyes as wide as saucers.

Agatha stares at you with a mixture of horror and fascination. “Well, that is… unexpected.”

You wag your tail tentatively. Yep, you definitely had a tail. You try to speak. What comes out is a series of yips and woofs. Your hands, or rather, paws, twitch as you try to grasp at the situation. You’re a dog. A fluffy, medium-sized, caramel colored something with comically large ears and a rapidly wagging tail.

“Agatha!” Wanda hisses, her voice low and dangerous. “You turned my girlfriend into a dog!”

“Well, yes, but it was an accident!” Agatha protests, throwing her hands up in exasperation. “I was aiming for a newt, I swear!”

You tilt your head, your tongue lolling out of your mouth. You want to ask if they have any treats, but you can only manage a happy bark.

“Okay, okay, no need to get dramatic,” Agatha says, pacing back and forth. “We just need to figure out how to change you back. I think I might have reversed that spell. Or maybe not, it depends on if I used a pinch of salamander eyes or bat wings. They're kinda similar.”

Wanda lets out a frustrated groan. "Agatha, you absolute menace."

The next few hours are an absolute blur. Wanda and Agatha are now trying to solve the mystery of your transformation. You, being a dog, are mostly just enjoying the abundance of belly rubs and the fact that you can now lick your own foot. You tried to help by bringing them your favorite squeaky toy, but the two witches seem to be too preoccupied with their spell books to appreciate your contribution.

You watch as Wanda and Agatha argue, occasionally throwing out phrases like “counter-curse,” “elemental transference,” and “what did you mean by using the left hind leg of a frog?” You realize this is probably more chaotic than your average Saturday.

At one point, Agatha tries a spell that makes your fur turn bright pink for a few minutes, this was quickly reversed by Wanda as she glared at Agatha. You were actually rather fond of the pink fur, and you make a mental note to ask Wanda to do that again.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity of chanting and potion-mixing, Agatha exclaims, “I think… I think I’ve got it! This final ingredient should do the trick!” She holds up a small, suspiciously sparkly vial.

Wanda looks at you, her eyes full of anxious hope. “Ready, sweetheart?”

You bark excitedly, your tail wagging so hard your whole body wiggles. Anything to be human again.

Agatha pours the contents of the vial over your head. This time, the tingling sensation is different, accompanied by a whooshing sound and a strong smell of lavender. You blink, and you're back in your human form. You’re no longer covered in fur, and your paws are, once again, hands. Your heart nearly jumps out your chest in relief.

“Am I… me again?” you ask, your voice still a little shaky.

Wanda rushes forward, pulling you into a tight hug, her face buried in your hair. “You’re back,” she whispers, her voice thick with relief. “You’re really back.”

Agatha, meanwhile, is beaming at you, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “See? I told you I’d fix it. Just another Saturday for the amazing Agatha Harkness!”

You look at her, then back at Wanda, a smile spreading across your face. This is your life now. A chaotic, wonderful, and utterly bizarre life, and you wouldn't have it any other way.

[moonmaiden1996]

What do you like best about Sanji and Corazon? 😊

Sanji and Corazon are two incredibly different but equally lovable and beautiful men. These men are given truly tragic backstories, and I genuinely believe they deserve so much love and happiness. I think that’s why I love them so much—because they will do anything to protect those they love, no matter what, and the way they treat you will make even goddess's jealous.

Lets start with the Straw Hat Chef...

Sanji – The Romantic Dreamer

What I love most about Sanji is his unwavering devotion and charm. He’s the kind of man who believes love should be celebrated every single day, and he treats you like royalty because he truly sees you as the most beautiful person in his life.

How Sanji Would Treat You

The Little Things:

Sanji has a knack for noticing the tiniest details about you. He’d know how you like your tea or coffee, the way you smile when the sun hits your face, and the songs that make you happy. He’d show it by bringing you your favorite treat after a long day, saying, “I knew you’d need this, love.”

He’d brush your hair out of your face in the wind, always carrying a handkerchief in case you need it. It’s the small gestures that would make your heart flutter.

His Culinary Love Language:

Cooking is his ultimate way of showing love. Every meal would feel like a masterpiece created just for you. He’d watch you take your first bite with bated breath, then light up when you tell him it’s delicious.

If you’re feeling down, he’d whip up a cozy meal, placing it in front of you with a soft kiss to your temple and a whispered, “Eat up, sweetheart. You deserve to feel as amazing as you are.”

Romantic Gestures:

Sanji would pull you into a dance in the middle of the kitchen, twirling you around as a love song played in his head. His hands would settle on your waist as he gazed into your eyes, saying, “I’m the luckiest man alive to have you in my arms.”

He’d write little notes for you to find throughout the day—tucked in your bag, slipped into a book, or under your pillow. Each one would say something like, “Thinking of you, my love.”

Why I Love Him: Sanji’s love feels like poetry. He’s so genuine in his affection, and he’d make every moment feel special, whether it’s a grand gesture or a quiet evening together. You’d never have to doubt his devotion because he’d show it in everything he does.

Corazon – The Quiet Protector

What I adore most about Corazon is his deep, quiet love. He might not be as outwardly flashy as Sanji, but his actions speak volumes about how much he cares. His awkwardness and soft heart make him so endearing, and you’d always feel safe and cherished by him.

How Corazon Would Treat You

The Gentle Caretaker:

Corazon is the kind of man who’d wrap his coat around you when you’re cold without a second thought, his warm smile reassuring you. “You need it more than I do,” he’d say, even if he’s shivering.

If you were sick, he’d stay by your side, fumbling through making you soup (and probably burning it) but refusing to leave you alone. “I’m not leaving until you feel better,” he’d say, his voice full of determination.

His Thoughtful Acts:

Corazon has a way of remembering the things you care about. He’d bring you flowers, not because it’s a grand romantic gesture, but because he saw them and thought they’d make you smile.

He’d surprise you with little adventures—quiet walks on the beach, visiting a spot he found while on a mission, or stargazing. “I thought you’d like this place,” he’d say, watching your face light up.

His Protective Nature:

Corazon would always put you first, even if it meant risking himself. If he thought you were in danger, he’d shield you without hesitation. Afterward, he’d pull you close and promise, “I’ll always keep you safe.”

When you’re anxious or upset, he’d sit with you quietly, holding your hand or rubbing your back. “Take your time,” he’d whisper, his presence grounding and comforting.

This man will *literally* die to for you

Why I Love Him: Corazon’s love feels like a warm, safe haven. He’s not flashy or over-the-top, but he’d make you feel like the most important person in the world through his unwavering support and quiet tenderness. You’d know you could rely on him no matter what.

I could never pick between these men, they are just so perfect. The would adore you and love you in every single way you need. Also... I am not sure what it says about me when these both smoke...I have no idea if that is a kink or not but thinking of these two is me living my best life so I don't care.

Love this ask! Keep them coming :P Any character..... I. Dare. You!

Like. Comment. Request

[hopelesswrites]

Music Boyfriend part 2

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Part 1 / 2 / 3

Summary: Eddie is an anonymous frontman of Corroded Coffin and meets his long-time pen-crush while on the run from the law.

Notes: This is HEAVILY inspired by movie Dinner in America, I was obsessed with the dynamic and felt it fit Eddie and Reader so well. general plot similarities but not a complete retelling of the movie

Eddies POV

Without a word Eddie stormed out of the house, leaving the girl alone and confused.

His mind was racing as he marched his way through town, careful to use the backstreets to stay out of the way of police. Eddie had put a lot of effort into staying anonymous. It was good for the band, and it was good for him.

Somewhere along the way of Corroded Coffins career Eddie had made a particularly strong impression on a fan. Eddie knew this obviously, by the letters he would receive regularly. Letters of passionate love confessions wrapped up in the form of lyrics, addressed solely to him, no one else in the band. These letters had made possibly a stronger impact on Eddie, and he had begun responding in corroded coffins songs, it fuelled him and his own creativity. But he enjoyed the anonymous back and forth, never getting too familiar with each other, just enough to completely infect the other one’s mind.

Eddie snuck around the back of the trailer park his uncle lived at, staying in the trees to not be seen. This was extra dangerous territory because it seemed everyone in this place was out to get him. He eyed his uncle’s trailer and the window that he broke sneaking out as a teenager, that was his way in. He could see his uncle tinkering underneath his car out the front. He just needed to get in and out.

Checking the coast was clear he bolted past neighbouring trailers and caravans until he was flush with his trailer wall before hoisting himself through the window, landing on his bed in a heap.

Inside he made quick work of changing into clean clothes, his current jeans smelling of sweat and booze from the gig the night before. He then grabbed a bag packing an extra shirt in anticipation that he’d be laying low somewhere for the next couple of days, as well as a half empty bottle of bourbon he had beside his bed and his tin of medicinals. Eddie didn’t deal so much anymore but if he was going to be staying with this girl, he was going to need something to calm his nerves. Lastly, he opened his bottom drawer to find his stack of letters he had collected over the past year, careful to put them in the front pocket of his bag.

He didn’t know what he was going to do, he wasn’t even sure he would come clean to her about who he was and how he knew her, but he wanted to keep the letters with him in case.

Back at her house he spied a car out front that wasn’t there before. He watched from the road as a woman unpacked groceries in the kitchen, his mystery girl beside her, it seemed having a heated discussion.

Eddie readied himself to enter the house, not caring too much about the girl’s mom or how she would react to him. He opened the door and closed it with a bit of force to alert them of his presence, catching the tail end of the conversation.

“We’ll discuss your job later” The woman spoke turning the corner and stopping abruptly when she saw Eddie.

“Who are you?” She asked in horror, slowly backing away.

“Don’t worry, he’s a friend” the girl explained eyeing Eddie curiously. He assumed she had a million questions about his disappearance earlier in the day.

“Your daughter had offered me a place to crash for a few days, my place is getting fumigated” Eddie continued, catching the surprise in the girl’s eye.

Her mom looked between them speechless, and Eddie took it as his opportunity to slip away. “Thank you for your hospitality, its greatly appreciated” He called, dragging the girl back up to her room.

“Is your mom going to be a problem? And what was she lecturing you about anyway? That fucking job?” Eddie made himself comfortable on her bed, lounging back with his arms crossed behind his head. He was courteous enough to leave his boot clad feet dangling off the edge of her bed instead of on her pristine comforter.

He looked up at her stood in the middle of the room searching for answers, or arranging them in her head, he hadn’t quite worked the strange girl out. He knew she had a talent with words, there was proof of it in her letter, but she seemed to struggle to find them in person, unless he guessed it was to do with his band, so he tried a different approach.

“Answer me this then” he started, shuffling over and patting the bed beside him. There was a small space left against his hip, noticing her hesitation he shuffled over more offering another inch or two of space.

“I don’t bite, c’mon, I have a serious question.”

Slowly she lowered herself onto the bed, angled to look at Eddie, hip flush with his.

“What is it about Vandal that you like so much?”

Eddie watched the cogs in her brain tick 10 times faster and her eyes light up.

“He’s so passionate, his lyrics are so raw and angry but the mask he wears, he’s obviously more reserved, lives an anonymous life and I relate to him. I think I share his passion, but I didn’t discover my outlet for it until I discovered Corroded Coffin. Writing to him is my way of letting it out.”

Eddie took a moment to take in her answer, it was so profound, something he hadn’t heard from a fan before, usually they fawn over him, throwing their bras and begging to see his face.

“You don’t care about what he looks like? What if he’s ugly”

Eddie anxiously waited for her response, which seemed to have struck a drop of hesitation from her.

“He doesn’t sound ugly, but no I don’t care what he looks like”

A sudden wave of panic washed over him. What if she recognises his voice? He felt a strong urge to control his anonymity until he was ready. Anxiously he coughed, lowering his voice when he next spoke.

“You got a boyfriend? What would he think of all that?”

The girl looked away shaking her head. “I don’t have a boyfriend; Vandal is my music boyfriend”

“Your what?” Eddie questioned, heat rising up to his cheeks.

“My music boyfriend, I don’t need a real boyfriend” she said looking at him now, a stern look on her face as if to tell Eddie to drop it.

Eddie let the words sink in, music boyfriend. He was a music boyfriend.

The heat from his cheeks suddenly travelled south and Eddie couldn’t help what the unintentional flattery was doing to him.

“Where’s your bathroom?” He asked, getting up and snatching his bag up as he headed for the door. He needed a cold shower, or a hand job, ASAP.

Once alone Eddie slumped against the bathtub, rubbing his forehead and willing a thought that could completely turn him off to appear into his mind, but all he could keep repeating was, ‘music boyfriend’.

It made him feel sick, but he acknowledged that feeling in the pit of his stomach was far less sinister than his reaction permitted. He’d never felt this way before, at least not since he was a kid. Girls didn’t like him, not like that, not in a mushy romantic way. And neither did he, he was stubborn like that, if he wasn’t allowed to receive that kind of attention, he wouldn’t give it out. But he could tell this girl understood him on some astronomic cosmic level. He scoffed at the idea of soulmates, but he had felt that connection ever since the first letter. It had been a fantasy up until now, and Eddie was stuck with the decision to allow this girl into his life physically or keep up the façade, let her write him letter until the end of time.

Eddie pulled out the letters from his bag, shuffling through them to find his favourite. It was the one that first inspired him to respond in his own song. Reading it now gave him a different feeling. A feeling of need and desperation. The girl who wrote these words was no longer a mystery, she was sitting in the room down the hall from him. But it didn’t feel right to walk back in there and ambush her with her own dirty little secret. He had to do it right, make it special, for his music girlfriend.

-

“Do you like arcades?” Eddie asked, entering the girls room again. She was sat on her bed fiddling with an envelope and a sheet of glittery stickers. It was a letter for him.

“Yeah” She replied, concentration completely on her task.

“Do you want to go?”

The girl looked up at Eddie then to her alarm clock beside her bed. “It closes in like half an hour” she answered.

“I know a guy, he can get us in, whole arcade to ourselves” Eddie explained. His buddy Dustin worked the arcade and he knew if he asked nicely (threatened him) Dustin would let them in after hours.

The girl perked up at the idea, “Okay, yeah, but can we stop at a post box on the way?” She held up a decorated envelope with his name written on it. Eddie hesitated before agreeing, rushing her to get dressed so they could get there before Dustin left.

“Your mom need her car tonight?”

Eddie received a confused look then a scowl. “We cannot take my moms car, plus I don’t know how to drive”

Eddie rolled his eyes. “Why did you never learn how to drive?”

“Mom said I needed to gain more confidence before I could operate heavy machinery and Dad said he didn’t want to teach me”

Eddie scoffed, “Your parents are useless, I’m driving there, then you’re driving yourself to the post box out by the old diner.”

The girl looked at Eddie in horror, “No I can’t, and it’ll be dark, it’s too dangerous, there’s one in town”

“Sweetheart, you’re going to have to do it eventually, don’t you want to get out of here? Don’t you want your freedom?”

All Eddie got from her was a grunt and a shrug as she pushed passed him and down the stairs. Eddie watched from the landing as she checked the kitchen entry then returned to the front door where she fished out a set of keys from a bowl on the side table. The girl looked back up at Eddie motioning for him to come down then pressed her finger to her lips in an attempt to shush Eddie and his clunky boots.

“This your first time sneaking out?” Eddie whispered by her head while they walked to the car, reaching over to take the keys from her hand.

“First and last”

Eddie chuckled, not believing that for a second. He could practically feel the buzz coming off the girl as they entered the car and drove off. A swell of happiness filled his heart at the thought of creating excitement in this girl’s life. He wanted to continue to do it, he knew he would have to come clean in order for that to happen though.

Once they arrived at the arcade Eddie parked around the back, just in time to catch Dustin locking up.

“No! No! No!” Eddie heard Dustin scream once he stepped out of the car. “Not this time Munson, you almost got me fired last time” Eddie ran up to his friend gripping him by the shoulders and getting real close to whisper, “Please, I have a date, do me this one solid”

Eddie watched Dustin look around him and at the girl awkwardly standing by her moms’ car. “Fine, don’t rage on space invaders again we had to replace the joystick”

Eddie punctuated his gratitude with a big kiss to Dustin’s cheek which was not well received and dragged his date over to the back door.

“Power switch has the green tape!” Dustin called before getting into his own car and driving off.

Inside Eddie was quick to open the control box beside the back door and switch on the switch Dustin had instructed. Instantly the main room lit up in a wild buzz as each machine began to power on. Eddie watched the girls’ own eyes light up at the sight of the colourful room come to life.

“Popcorn?” Eddie offered, making his way to the kitchen of the small cafeteria and turning on the popcorn machine. He watched her frantically nod still admiring all the lights. It felt more alive at night when there weren’t snotty kids running around, you could hear the buzz of the machines.

“There should be a box of coins in the office, grab it and pick a game” Eddie called while he prepared a small batch of popcorn.

“This is so cool; your friend is awesome for letting us in”

Eddie listened for the girl, heard her grab the box of coins and jangle all the way over to a machine. He heard the machine process the coin and the game erupt with music. Poking his head out he spotted her enthusiastically tapping buttons on a game he had never paid much attention to in his time here as a kid. His heart swelled again, he knew he was royally fucked and in the span of one day his whole world had shifted. He thought back to how angry he was earlier in the day at the prospect of someone as strange as her knowing of Corroded Coffin, how in just a few hours his anger switched to possessiveness, how he would defend this girl to the end.

“Having Fun” He spoke, approaching her with a box of steaming hot popcorn.

“It’s so much better without kids crawling through your feet” she giggled, popping another coin in the machine. “What’s your favourite?” She asked, keeping half her attention on the game and half on Eddie.

“Dragons Lair” Eddie replied, handing out the popcorn for the girl to take. She was fully invested in the game now, both hands in action. “Feed me some” She rushed, opening her mouth for Eddie to place popcorn in.

Eddie hesitated, willing every perverted thought to the back of his mind as he gently placed two pieces into her mouth. She snapped her mouth shut, capturing the tip of Eddies finger and thumb, sending those thoughts right back to the forefront of his mind.

“We can play Dragons Lair next?” She spoke, looking up at Eddie briefly with a smile. He resisted a groan at the sight of her, he was so infatuated it made him sick.

Once her game had finished, she walked them to his game and started it up. “Ill feed you while you play” She giggled, taking the box out of his hands. Eddies stomach dropped at how innocently she spoke. He couldn’t even concentrate on the game, giving his worst performance yet. Each machine they moved to the more in his head Eddie got. He had to confess tonight, he had to know how she felt about him.

Soon they had killed about 2 hours in the arcade and the sun had officially set. Eddie considered his next move. He had promised to take her to the post box. In fact, he had ordered her to drive herself to the post box. Eddie watched as she made her way to the passenger side of the car, either forgetting the agreement or naively hoping he had forgotten.

“Wrong side Darlin’, drivers over here” He called, jingling the car keys.

He thought he caught an eye roll before she walked around to the other side of the car. He plopped the keys in her hands and strutted over to the passenger seat, getting in haphazardly.

In the car he guided her through the steps to start the car and exit the carpark. With a couple of fumbled manoeuvres, they were out on the road, headed towards the edge of town. The road was relatively straight, so he didn’t have to pay too much attention as she drove knowing there was little for her to mess up on. This gave him time to think about how he was going to do this. He couldn’t let her post the letter, it was going straight to him anyway, he had to tell her now.

As she pulled up to the post box Eddie’s mind was racing with anxiety. “Ill just be a second” She mumbled, taking off her seatbelt.

“Wait!” Eddie yelled entirely too loud for the confined space they were both in.

The girl looked at Eddie confused, waiting for him to continue.

“You’re mailing it to Vandal, right?” He started, building up the courage to tell her she didn’t have to go through all that trouble to get a letter to him.

She answered with a nod which encouraged Eddie to go on. “Don’t do it”

“Why?”

Eddie groaned, unsure of how to even word it. “Don’t mail it to him, it’s a waste of time, you can give it to him personally.”

Eddie waited for her response, heart pounding in his chest. “Do you know Vandal?” She asked.

Eddie nodded, holding out his hand for the letter. Hesitantly, she placed it in his palm. He took a deep breath before unzipping his bag, pulling out the other letters she had sent.

“How do you have those? I sent them to Vandal; how do you have them!?” She questioned in a panic.

Eddie looked at her hoping he could telepathically send her the message. “I am Vandal” He almost whispered.

“No”

“Yes, I am” Eddie argued. “Look, you’ve sent all these letters to me, I’ve read them, every fucking word, every lyric, every confession, I’ve read them.”

After an extended moment of silence she replied, “Why?” It was quiet, Eddie barely heard it.

“Why what?”

“Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

Eddie laughed, letting out a sigh. “How am I supposed to do that, its fucking awkward isn’t it? You really want me to sit in your bedroom and tell you I’m the one you’re calling your music boyfriend?”

Eddie watched her face turn into a deep frown. He cursed at himself for being too rough. “Hey” He tried gentler, getting her attention.

“Do you know how awkward it felt for me? To know the girl I’ve been in love with was right in front of me and I didn’t have a clue? How would I have confessed to that then?”

“In love with?” She asked, eyebrows raising in excitement.

Eddie chuckled, “Yeah, truly madly deeply or whatever it is they say, fucking head over heels and all you had to do is write me songs, you’re pretty incredible.”

She looked down shyly unable to look Eddie in the eyes and accept a compliment of that magnitude.

“Can I read this?” Eddie asked, waving around the letter. She nodded hesitantly, giving Eddie permission to read her latest song.

“Not here, can I take you somewhere else?”

With her permission, Eddie made them switch seats so he could enter phase two of what he was now calling, their first date.

Taglist: (Sorry it took so long)

@pupwrites @yourdailymemedelivery @princesssunderworld

[hancocksspouse]

Not him slipping up and calling Doll his ‘wife’ 🥺

Sold

WARNING: DESCRIPTIONS OF TORTURE AND VIOLENCE AND DEATH. IF YOU ARE EASILY UPSET OR UNCOMFORTABLE WITH DETAILED DESCRIPTIONS OF HARM, PLEASE DO NOT READ.

OTHERWISE, PLEASE ENJOY THE IDEA OF AN ANGRY HANCOCK READY TO RIP A MAN APART FOR HIS 'WIFE'.

-

Hancock wouldn’t consider himself a cruel man. In fact, he hated cruelty. Didn't see a point in cruelty unwarranted.

But if you were to ask him right now about it as he stared unfeeling holes into the man strapped to the chair before him that was struggling to collect himself while he tried to ignore the splinters that had been hammered beneath 2 of his nails, he'd admit he could be pushed to it under the right circumstances.

He learned at a young age how to get in and out of Diamond City unseen. Even had a full body outfit specifically for the occasions when he followed Doll into town, which he did often. With McDonough still in charge and prejudice running alive and well through the city, it wasn't often he left Doll to be alone there. It was no secret she wasn't a fan of people's behaviors towards ghouls and synths. Made it clear to plenty of people that she did not think highly of people that treated anyone lesser for being different rather than use their actions and behaviors as a basis.

So when a 'brief stop' at Home Plate turned into a full on missing person's case, it didn't take him long to figure out what may have happened. The panic that had settled in his stomach when she never came back out from Diamond City and he found signs of struggle in her house was only amplified when he got Valentine to help him look and confirm that there was not only a fight, but somehow, whoever broke in managed to sneak her out of the city without any eye witnesses. He almost didn't believe him but Diamond City jail was completely empty and despite her personal beliefs, many citizens still held a respect for her enough to notice if something happened to her.

Valentine knew that nothing he could say to him would ease what was festering in his chest and he wasn't going to attempt it. Even a blind man could see the feelings he had developed for his companion over the time they had been traveling together and he knew how dangerous a man in love could be. Hancock alone was already a force to be reckoned with. Put his heart into it, it's a whole new monster.

"I know I can't change your mind on whatever it is you're going to do, but at least give me a little time to point you in the right direction", he said, offering Hancock a cigarette as he lit his own while they stood in Doll's house together. "Don't need to get anyone involved unnecessarily". Hancock almost rejected the offer, but knew he needed whatever help he could get. McDonough wasn't going to help and his Diamond City security cronies were useless. Instead, he nodded slowly, taking the offered cigarette.

"I'll give you til tonight. If you got nothin', I'm doin' it my way. Meet me back here in Home Plate", he said, breathing out a cloud of smoke. The calmness he responded to Valentine with was eerie and he knew he meant what he said. He knew what him handling business would look like and he simply nodded in response.

"I'll take it".

True to his word, come nightfall, they were once again at Home Plate, the mask of Hancock's disguise set atop the table as he took a breath in, not used to having to hide behind such a heavy piece of clothing.

"Traveling caravan was let in not too long before she went missing. They were seen wandering in, but no one recalls doing any trading with them, only them taking a large container out of Diamond City. I'd bet caps it was her. One of the security guards had also been seen both in Home Plate and helping the caravan load the container, so there's an inside man", he says, a frown on his face while looking at the mess left behind in her normally put together base. Hancock's eyes lower into a glare.

"Sounds to me like you're insinuating McDonough set it all up", he says, leaning forward against his knees. Valentine shakes his head.

"I'm not gonna say one way or another, but nothing comes in or goes out of Diamond City without him knowing and there's no solid proof he had a hand in it. A corrupt politician isn’t something unheard of. You and I both know that. But the theories will have to take a chair for now. The security guard that was seen is currently stationed out at the gate tonight", he says as he looks over the clearly distressed mayor.

"A large container, huh? That's not soundin' too promising either, detective". The edge in his voice is very audible and Valentine can't help the discomfort he's feeling at the idea of what it'll be like being on the receiving end of his ire once he gets a hold of that guard.

"You know her better than that, Hancock. She's not giving up that easily, nor is she going to make it easy for them. I'm sure of it. Just...don't tell me what happens to that guard, alright?" he asks him and Hancock gives a nod, thinking to himself for a moment before standing up and sliding his mask back on.

"Ya know what? That's fair, Nicky. You did more than you had to and I ain't gonna forget that". He pats his shoulder. "Thanks. A lot. Now, if you'll excuse me, I believe they got somethin' of mine". Hancock doesn't see the confused look on Nick's face as he passes and by the time he realizes what exactly he means, he's already shutting the door behind him, heading back out to the gates of the city.

-

Getting the guard alone and subdued is light work for Hancock, leading them to their current situation, a nonchalant, unamused, unimpressed Hancock leaned against a wall while the guard in question struggles to calm down and mentally regroup as wooden splinters firmly jut from beneath his fingernails. He struggles against his binds but Hancock has him firmly bound to the chair and all he has done is tired himself out more.

"Now, let's try this one more time, brother. This time, without lyin' to me, yea?", he says, slowly strolling over to the man as he tosses the hammer aside onto the table he has set up. An array of different objects and weapons are strewn across the top, most of which were for intimidation, but Hancock is all too ready and willing to use everything he's got and even make things up if he has to. He takes a handful of the man's hair in hand and yanks his head back, forcing him to look up at him as he continues to sputter and whine.

"I-I s-swear I-I-I don't know wh-what you're talking about", he cries, his breathing ragged and rushed but Hancock shakes his head and sighs.

"See, I'm afraid I don't believe that, friend. And do you know why?" he asks, casually pulling his trusty knife from his pocket and dragging it against his cheek. The panicked guard looks from the knife to him and carefully shakes his head no.

"B-but I-"

CRACK

A bright red hand print quickly appears on his cheek and he yelps at the impact before once again being yanked into Hancock's line of sight.

"Before you even try to lie to me again, I'll tell you. I don't believe that because you were seen. Ain't that crazy?"

Hancock is toying with the man, but his patience is quickly wearing thin and his temper is getting the best of him because his knife soon begins to trace against the man's thigh.

"Now. I'mma share a little fun fact with you, brother. You're gonna love it, I learned it from Doctor Amari. Smart woman. Taught me a few interesting things here and there. Did you know that you have three arteries in your thigh that if cut, could cause you to bleed out and die? Wild stuff", he says, the tip of the blade resting above where his femoral artery would be found.

"W-w-wait! Waitwaitwait, j-just h-hold on-", the man quickly stutters out and Hancock smirks a bit, pocketing the knife.

"Well well well, looks like someone's ready to sing?" he says. The man struggles and whines, fighting between his brain and the pain and Hancock frowns and reaches down, tapping one of the splinters in farther and the man lets out a scream that bleeds into sobs.

"ALRIGHT ALRIGHT! YOU'RE RIGHT! WE TOOK HER!", he cries out, the tears mixing with sweat and blood. "We-we took her".

Hancock nods with a chuckle and pulls up a chair in front of him, flipping it around and seating himself, leaning against the back of it.

"Keep talkin', brother. Now, we're gettin' somewhere".

The man hiccups and sputters before catching his breath and swallowing.

"W-we were told t-to get h-her o-out of Diamond C-city. Stage i-it to look like a break i-in and s-sell her off to r-raiders head-ding out towards N-Nuka W-World", he manages to say. Hancock frowns.

"Keep goin'", he says, rising from his chair.

"M-Mayor McDonough d-didn't like wh-what sh-she was saying about h-him and thought sh-she w-would make people ch-change their minds about th-the anti-ghoul d-decree and start trying to m-motivate p-people t-to let ghouls a-and synths into the c-city, so he paid o-off some r-raiders to come in as a c-caravan to get h-her".

Hancock stands quietly for a long time, processing what he's heard while staring dead eyed at the man, making him begin to cry again until his footsteps make him look back up at him and when he sees the knife in his hand again, he begins to sob once more.

"I just got one more question for you, brother", Hancock says, once again pulling his head back by his hair and resting his blade against his adam's apple. The blank abyss of Hancock's eyes convinces the guard he's about to die and he can do nothing but cry, unable to break eye contact.

"Where. Is. My. Wife?!"

-

Her vision has been dark for a span of time she is unsure of and her head has been swimming so much, she only just realizes there's both a bag on her head and she's bound, her body uncomfortably scrunched up in something being carried. A pain shoots through her head and she feels something wet on her scalp that has managed to drip down to her eyelid, making her think to what happened before her current predicament, but her thoughts are cut short when she feels everything stop suddenly and muffled voices sound off around her. The darkness around her shifts and she feels herself getting pushed out of whatever it was she was contained in, a grunt leaving her as she hits the ground and pain racks through her body.

"Huh. This one seems a bit younger than the ones ya'll usually send our way", she hears one say before she's shifted up onto her knees and the bag on her head is yanked off, making her growl a bit before a hand catches her chin and pulls her to look forward, the frown on her face met by what she assumes is a raider in armor she's not seen before. Metal sheets fashioned into what could almost be considered plate armor sits latched onto what looks to actually be a nice suit beneath. Instead of the normal plaque mouthed, grimy raiders she's used to seeing, this one and his companions are actually quite clean and well put together, putting her more on edge than normal.

"Who the fuck are you?", she growls out, making the man smirk a bit.

"A bit foul mouthed but nothing we can't 'fix'", he says as his companion hands him what looks to be a collar over his shoulder and a panic sweeps over her as she looks around. A brahmin sits to the side, the container she's sure she was in open on it's side. It's night time and they're camped on the side of a road she can't readily see at the moment. "Now, hold still, dollface. This'll only take a moment", the raider says, reaching around her to put the collar on. She quickly lurches forward and headbutts him in his nose, a sickening crunch sounding off as they hear it break and he stumbles backwards, dropping the collar and holding his face. "You fuckin' BITCH!"

His companions go to hold her still and she rolls over to her back, managing to kick one in the gut before the other one manages to get around her kicking and hold her down as she keeps struggling.

"Fuckin' hold still, you little shit!", the raider gripes at her, punching her and busting her lip open. Blood begins spilling down her chin and once again, the collar comes back into view as they try to get it on her. "You make this harder than it needs to be and your life is gonna get way fuckin' harder than it needs to, got that?"

Panic takes her over as they try to once again latch the collar onto her and she jerks her head to the side, sinking her teeth into their hand as hard as she can. She can feel the skin beneath her teeth break under the pressure and the raider tries to shake her off, punching her in the head and yelling and when a molotov suddenly crashes against the back of the raider that took her out of Diamond City, everyone in the group is quickly armed as they look through the dark for the source of the explosive, leaving the flaming raider to fend for himself and fight off the fires on his own.

"Who the fuck is out there?!"

No response comes but another molotov soars through the air and cracks near the brahmin, scaring the beast and causing it to begin running in a panic. In it's frenzy to get away, it ploughs through the burning raider and tramples him, leaving him to bleed out and burn as it runs away and the rest of the raiders to scatter before a shot fires and one of the well dressed raiders hits the ground. The sudden shot is enough to distract them as Hancock quickly comes out from his hiding spot and swoops up behind the other, slicing their throat with alarming ease and catching the body to use as a shield once the other raiders realize he's there. They fire, riddling what would be there business associate with bullets before their rounds run dry and his shot gun blasts through ones chest while a shot from nearby takes out the other beside them. Behind them, Doll's teeth remain clamped into the last raider's hand and she's wrapped her legs around them, keeping them from running away. Witnessing their companions die, they struggle to escape but Doll manages to make sure they go nowhere as Hancock makes his way over, picking up the collar on the ground along the way.

"W-wait! You win! Just-just let me go!", he yells. Hancock says nothing, looking down at the state of his friend. She's bloody, beaten, and currently in a state of panicked frenzy. Fight or flight. She chose fight. He looks down at the collar in his hand and at the raider, who is stuck in place both by Doll and fear and he lets his feelings take over for a moment, locking the collar around the raider's neck despite how they struggle against him. "Wait! You don't know what this does! You can't do this!"

The raider's words fall on deaf ears and Hancock wraps his arm around their neck, knife in hand as he looks at Doll and reaches down to her, gently brushing his thumb against her jaw.

"Let go, sunshine. I gotcha", he says, his tone calm and kind to her, contrasting his actions. Her heavy breaths settle and she unlatches from the raider, both her blood and theirs mixing on her teeth. They attempt to struggle again but his arm tightens and the tip of his knife presses their jugular vein and they stop, shaking.

"You can't do this! Y-you don't know what this collar does-"

"Bullshit", he cuts them off with a scoff, picking them up and flinging them to the ground with his one arm as he picks up the remote that had fallen from their pocket. "You think I don't know a fuckin' bomb when I see one?"

They look up at him, not sure what else to do as they get back on their feet and begin running. He lets them get a little distance before rolling his eyes and hitting the detonator, their head disappearing suddenly into a fine red mist. The remote is thrown off to the side while Valentine makes his way from his point of cover to join them, Hancock already making quick work of her bindings. She rubs her wrists and wipes the blood from her chin before her eyes come up to meet his as he kneels down to her, brushing her hair from her face to assess the wounds.

"Like I said. She wasn't gonna make it easy for them", Nick says, looking at the mess left behind. Hancock chuckles a bit and shakes his head, carefully helping her stand up with him and pulling her to lean against his taller frame. His hold on her starts off gentle but slowly tightens more and more as the relief of her being safe hits him and the stress of the situation finally settles. Her face pushes against his chest and into the familiar red of his jacket while his leans down into her black hair.

"I'm sorry I didn't make it sooner, sister", he says, a slight waver in his voice. "I never woulda thought McDonough would've had the stones to do some underhanded shit like this. I swear when we get back-", but she shakes her head, stopping him.

"No. Don't", she says. His eyes glance down to her and a frown settles on his features.

"Doll, he set you up to be kidnapped and sold to raiders in fuckin' Nuka World-"

"He's also the mayor of a large town in the commonwealth and I'm fairly certain this was set up in a manner that leaves little to no evidence behind proving he did any of that. We can't stir the pot like that just yet, or it'll have a repercussion we're not ready to face. Too many people still support him and with everyone knowing my opinions, they're gonna just think I'm causing trouble".

Valentine frowns, looking up at them from his cigarette before shaking his head.

"She's right. McDonough has too much of a faithful following. We'd just be rattling the cage", he says, a clear note of disappointment in his voice. Hancock growls quietly to himself, knowing they're right.

"Besides, I'm pretty sure him seeing I'm still around and escaped will be enough of a message to him to watch his next steps", she says in an attempt to reassure him. He looks down at her for a moment, the frown still fixed to his face but he soon slowly nods to her.

"Alright, sunshine. We'll play it your way. For now", he says, simply holding her for the moment.

-

It goes without saying they don’t go anywhere near Diamond City as they walk away from said tussle. Nick follows along with them to Goodneighbor to make sure they make it back safely.

“I appreciate the help, Nicky”, Hancock says, shaking his hand at the door of the state house. He shakes his head.

“Of course. Anytime”. He breathes out a cloud of smoke and thinks for a moment before he looks back up at him. “Before I go…I gotta ask…the guard…is he…”

Hancock shakes his head no.

“He’s alive. Can’t promise he’s the same or that he’ll ever be the same anymore, but he’s alive. Should be back in Diamond City by now, if he went back”. He’s very detached and nonchalant about the man he tortured only hours ago and Nick raises a brow.

“Can’t really say you have any regrets about it, can you?” He pokes and Hancock simply shrugs.

“Shoulda kept his hands off my wife. Anyway, be safe gettin’ back”, he says, heading inside to tend to Doll’s wounds.

Confusion briefly washes over the synth detective but once he gives it a moment of thought, he simply chuckles and begins his trek back to Diamond City.

-

It’s late into the night by the time Hancock settles down and Doll is passed out, her head rested in his lap as they take up the couch together. His hand gently rubs against her hair and scalp while his mind wanders, a canister of jet in his opposite palm as he thinks.

He said it. Twice today. Said it and meant it and didn’t feel weird about it at all.

Wife.

He was never one to settle down or dedicate to just one person.

But…

This was different. Had been since they agreed to start traveling together like this. And the idea didn’t seem like a loss of freedom. Just felt like the idea of having someone to be free with.

His eyes look down towards her and fall on her left hand rested in front of her face. The pale tan line wrapped around her finger where her wedding band used to sit.

He wonders if perhaps he could ever put something in it’s place.

———

I’ve been sitting on this one for a hot minute, I’ve just been disgustingly busy but I loved this so much 😩

🖤🖤🖤

-Hancock’s Spouse

[x--sinner--x]

happy new year 🎉

I’m going to call this WWSD

( What Would Sinner Do )

Meaning, what would you sir do in the situation I’m presenting you with 🥰

Sooo, say we are at a New Year’s party and you see me doing shot after shot, having generally a good time.

You are across the room idly watching, waiting, noticing I’m also getting a lot less caring about making sure all my articles of clothing stay in place.

my skirt is consistently riding half way up my ass, showing off my pretty white thong. The straps of my tank top keep slipping down. a few men approach me to flirt here and there but I always wave them off. For some reason I’m not interested in anyone tonight! And normally I get hyper sexual when I’m drinking. It’s when I’m laughing with my friend and turn to roam my eyes, feeling a pull from another side of the room.

that’s when our eyes lock, I shutter as I watch your eyes slowly trail up and down my body. Something about you screams dangerous but you look so… kind? And also clearly a bit perverted considering your eyes have been lingering on my cleavage.

“Who is he?”

I ask my friend, she just shrugs and shakes her head.

I down the rest of what’s in my cup and set it down before walking up to you. “Take a picture perv it’ll last longer”

Half of me is feeling like I made a big mistake. And the other half? I don’t wanna think about that.

I roll my eyes and turn around, lift my skirt and flash you before starting to walk away back into the sea of the busy party full of hundreds of people drinking, singing, and dancing. Nobody gives a shit about anything

🍷🍷🍷🍷

thank you

Oooh this is an intense scenario... As always you never disappoint.

I was in the bar to forget all about reality and just let myself detach from everything for a few hours. After a few drinks, I wasn't feeling anything around me. But I wasn't drunk enough. By nature I'm always on the lookout for fun, and so I was just looking around and I found myself magnetically pulled towards you, even in my state. I caught your eye probably because you seemed as drunk as I was, probably even more so.

By nature I'm also a schemer, so I waited and kept my eyes on you for a while as you danced away in that slutty outfit, pushing away random men who either wanted to put their dicks in you, or genuinely wanted to just dance with you. But my keen eyes were drawn not just to you, but to something else on your body too. You see, when I was watching you dance, you would sometimes do a half kneel or a full upper body bend to your toes, and the strap of your shirt loosens to your shoulders, which makes the hem of your cleavage very visible. I could even guess your bra size, yes even with all the distance we had between each other, like literally on opposite ends.

I thought there was no way you can even catch that I'm looking at you, but you proved me wrong when you brazenly walked towards me like a ramp walk model, which was sexy and slutty at the same time. You walked so confidently, but you didn't care about how your outfit looked. And you did another bold move, and you flashed me your panties and walked away from me.

I mean, no one ever walks away from me after showing their panties. And on top of that, you gave me an ultimatum. You called me a pervert and asked me to take a picture so that it will last longer. And I took it personally. I was no pervert. I'm just an average art enjoyer, and you my love, were the art I chose to admire.

Since you want me to take a picture of you for my good measure, I took it as a challenge to myself. Only after I claim you and cum inside your pussy and on your panties, will I take a picture. You know, for keepsakes.

It was good that nobody, not even your friends cared about you, and so I just followed you into the dance floor, slowly grinding my pants against that slutty skirt you are wearing. You didn't even care that your ass was pressing against some random man's pants as he was grabbing you from behind.

It didn't take too long for me to convince you to come with me alone, as all those other guys you had rejected throughout the night just watched in frustration and jealousy. All I did was whisper how good you dance, and how I'm gonna have my way with you, and offering you a drink.

I didn't go back on my word because I didn't buy you one drink, I bought you a whole lot because the more drunk you are, the less you care what happens to you.

I then proceed to take you to a private room and I waste no time discarding my clothes and yours, leaving you in just your panties. I bend you over the sofa face down, and you don't even bother to move from that position while I pushed your panties to the side, and started pounding into you from behind. You started letting out faint moans, but from how drunk you were, even the faintest were loud enough for me to keep going.

Your pussy was so tight and wet making it easy for my cock to just slide right in. You started to enjoy this a little too much as you subconsciously pushed yourself back onto my cock, fucking yourself on it and moaning. If my cock just happened to slip out of you, you put it right back in. You even let your tongue out and eyes rolled to the back as you fucked yourself on me.

All I had to do now was to get some more alcohol down your throat to keep you as needy as possible, with some spanks to your bubbly ass cheeks, some squeezes to your dangling breasts, and my fingers down your throat for good measure. I also made sure to take pics which showed you as the slut you truly are.

Of course I won't just be satisfied with cumming in your pussy and that's why as immediately as I came inside your pussy, I proceeded to fuck your mouth and get some cum down your throat. Of course I took pics of my cum dripping out of your pussy and your mouth, and as my final price - I just pulled your panties off you and wrapped it around my cock and ejaculated all over it. And now I have the trophy shot.

A little souvenir for you when you regain your senses. I also leave you a message on your phone to put those panties back on and the picture I took of your panties - you know so it will last longer.

[hungermakesmonsters]

Hiii congrats on 500 I love your fics!!! Could you do sth where the reader and Billy actually meet in the marines ? Like the reader is a marine as well and Billy her lieutenant or even the other way around ? Thank youuu❤️ (submitted by @dorita06)

Aaaaaaah okay, so little known fact about me, I kind of love the soldier/medic trope in fiction, so rather than writing reader as a soldier herself, I went with making her a medic (hope that's ok!!) I had a lot of fun with this one, so I hope you like it! 😅

Stolen Moments

Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader

Story Rating : M 

Warnings : [This is 18+ only, minors DNI] Smutty behaviour.  

"I take it I don't have to explain how to look after your stitches?" You asked, eyeing the lieutenant as he shrugged his shirt back on and got to his feet.

As he stood, you found yourself tilting your head back to look at him, knowing all too well what came next. (At least, hoping you knew what came next.)

"Dunno, Doc, think I might need you to explain it to me one more time," he said as he reached for you, his fingers softly brushing against your neck.

You leaned into his touch, lifting yourself on your tiptoes as he slowly started to close the distance between you.

"Did you bang your head, Lieutenant Russo? Because this is the fifth time I've given you stitches and had to explain the proper aftercare procedure," you said, your voice getting softer as his lips got closer to yours. "Maybe I should talk to your CO, get you taken off active duty, so I can keep you here and... assess you."

Billy smiled that same smile he had the first time you'd met him, months ago in that very tent. He'd been bleeding then too, but he'd been more concerned with trying to get your name than the fact he'd needed stitches.

Of course, you'd tried to refuse him at first, tried to ignore the way that damned smile sent a bolt of arousal through you, not wanting to do anything to put your career in jeopardy. But the third time your paths had crossed, the first time he'd dared to kiss you, you were a goner.

Now, you'd lost count of how many times he'd ended up in the medical tent, needing to be patched up — sometimes for serious reasons and other times for reasons he claimed were serious just to get your attention — and how many times that had ended with him inside of you, giving you the best damned sex of your life.

Finally, his lips met yours and everything felt right in the world. He stepped forward and you stepped back, a hand behind you, feeling for the solid form of your desk.

He winced as he lifted you onto the desk. A small grunt of pain escaped him but, when you tried to pull back to check if he was alright, his fingers slipped into your hair, holding you in the kiss.

Instinctively, you parted your legs, letting him step between them, pressing his body close to yours. It was a familiar dance and you both knew the steps by heart. Your fingers tugged at his fatigues, while his pulled at yours, neither breaking the kiss or coming up for air for even a second.

You both knew that you were on borrowed time and that, at any moment, someone could rush in needing your assistance or need Billy to return to duty.

It was dangerous and stupid, something that could potentially spell then end of both of your careers, but you couldn't help it. You wanted him, needed him in a way that didn't make sense to you. And, no matter how many times you did this, no matter how many times you patched him up or he slipped into your tent after curfew, you knew that you'd never have enough of him.

And, as your hand slipped into his fatigues tograsp his already hard cock, you knew he felt exactly the same way.

"Lieutenant Russo," you murmured against his lips. "I'm starting to think you're getting injured on purpose just so you can come see me."

Billy grinned against your lips, kissing you again instead of answering your accusation. It was probably better that way — the last thing you wanted was thoughts of him being seriously hurt in your head, especially while you were stroking his cock.

A laugh slipped out as he tugged your pants down your legs and almost managed to pull you off the desk with them. That was your cue to lower his combat pants, pushing them down to his thighs.

He stepped forward, clearing the distance, and you had to bite your lip to hold back a moan when you felt the tip of his cock against you.

"Can't wait 'til we're stateside again," he muttered, reaching between your bodies to tease his cock between your folds. "Be able to take my time with you then."

You felt your lips pull into a ridiculous smile, the same way that they always did whenever he spoke about going home, about still wanting you after all the shit was over an you were both back home.

Still, you couldn't help but tease him.

"Who says I'm gonna waste my time on a jarhead like you when I'm back home?" You asked.

"Allow me to persuade you."

"Go on then, I'm all ears, tell me why I should —"

Before you could finish, Billy pushed forward, notching his cock into you, filling you in one smooth movement. You bit down harder on your lip, your hands grasping his fatigues.

"Fuck," you moaned as a familiar feeling of ecstasy took hold.

"Persuaded yet?"

"Yes — fuck, yes —" you gasped as he started to draw his hips back, setting a steady rhythm.

He kissed you again, swallowing down the moans that tried to escape you while using your lips to muffle his own desperate noises. His hands gripped you, holding you tight, clinging to you like you were the only stable thing in his world, and you loved it. You loved how he made you feel in those moments, kissing you, holding you, fucking you.

But it couldn't last. While you wanted to enjoy it, you both knew that, at any moment, you could be discovered.

He gripped your hip as he upped the tempo, driving you closer and closer to insanity with each rough thrust. You back arched and you writhed on the edge of the desk, completely losing yourself to him and the way he made you feel.

You gasped and panted and whined against his lips, every snap of his hips causing arousal to burn hotter in your belly, every fibre of your being coiling tighter, like a spring desperate to be released.

"Lieutenant — fuck, Billy —" you managed before being pulled back into another kiss.

He grunted against your lips as the last of his self-control seemed to disappear. You loved the moments when he lost control, when he lost his mind over you. His fingers gripped your bare hip tight enough to leave bruises — replacements for the ones that had started to fade since your last tryst.

The desk creaked and the metal legs scraped against the concrete floor, but all you could think was more, more, more. After months of snatched moments like this, you'd found yourself addicted to him, desperate for him in a way you'd never know with any other man.

As he fucked you and stole your breath away, you felt a crescendo building, a wave of pleasure that was going to drowned you.

Your fingers damn near ripped his shirt as you started to come, clinging to him for dear life.

His grip on your hair tightened, keeping his lips sealed over your as you tried to cry out his name. A few more enthusiastic thrusts later and he followed you over the edge and into oblivion, holding you just as tightly as you were holding him.

He pressed his face against your neck, panting for breath, his cock still inside you, still twitching as his orgasm ebbed away.

Moments like this were the ones that made you wonder if he meant it, if he really did want to see you again once you were both back home and the desert was in the rear-view. But you didn't dare ask — you never asked, because you weren't sure how you'd feel if/when it all turned out to be lies.

You weren't naïve enough not to see what this probably was; you were one of the few women on base and it was very clear that Lieutenant Russo had needs. And you? What you needed was something to keep you sane and, somehow, that had become him.

Tenderly you ran your fingers through his hair as you both caught your breath then, reluctantly, he pulled away.

[luvashli]

Synopsis -> you are pulled into a mysterious mansion where seven men are bound by a dark pact. As you navigates their secrets, desires, and emotional turmoil, you must decide whether to break free or embrace your dangerous connection with them all, uncovering love and sacrifice along the way.

09 -> Unveiling Shadows

Jay’s words echoed in your mind as you stormed back to your room.

“You’re not leaving.”

The certainty in his voice left no room for argument, but it also left you with more questions than answers.

What kind of pact had they made? Why were you part of it now? And why did it feel like every step you took in that mansion was dragging you deeper into something you couldn’t escape?

That night, sleep didn’t come. You paced the length of your room, your thoughts racing. Their secrecy had gone on long enough.

If they weren’t going to give you answers, you’d find them yourself.

The mansion was eerily quiet as you crept through its halls. The others had retreated to their rooms hours ago—or so you assumed. You didn’t trust them enough to believe they actually slept.

Your footsteps were light as you made your way to Heeseung’s study. You’d seen him hide something in that drawer, and you weren’t leaving until you found out what it was.

The door creaked as you pushed it open, and for a moment, you stood frozen, listening for any sign that someone had heard you. When none came, you slipped inside, shutting the door behind you.

The room smelled faintly of old books and cedarwood. Moonlight streamed through the window, casting long shadows across the walls.

You went straight to the desk, your fingers trembling as you pulled open the drawer.

It was locked.

“Of course it is,” you muttered, crouching down to inspect it.

A quick search of the room yielded a small brass key hidden beneath a stack of papers on the bookshelf. You slid it into the lock, and with a soft click, the drawer opened.

Inside was the piece of paper Heeseung had been holding earlier, along with a stack of other documents. Your eyes scanned the top page, and your breath caught in your throat.

It was a contract.

The Pact.

The words on the paper were written in a language you didn’t recognize, but the weight of them was unmistakable. Beneath the strange symbols was a list of names: Heeseung, Jay, Jake, Sunghoon, Sunoo, Jungwon, and Ni-ki.

And at the bottom, written in bold, was a single phrase in English: Bound by fate, sealed by sacrifice.

“What the hell…”

Your hands trembled as you flipped through the pages, each one more confusing than the last. There were diagrams, symbols, and passages that seemed almost… ancient.

And then, tucked between two pages, you found something else—a photo.

It was old, the edges frayed and yellowed with age. In the picture were the seven boys, standing together in front of what looked like the very mansion you were in. They looked the same as they did now.

Not younger. Not older.

Exactly the same.

“You shouldn’t be here.”

The voice made you jump, the photo slipping from your fingers. You spun around to find Heeseung standing in the doorway, his expression unreadable.

“How long have you been standing there?” you demanded, trying to keep your voice steady.

“Long enough,” he said, stepping into the room. His eyes flicked to the open drawer, then back to you. “You shouldn’t have done that.”

“Why? What are you hiding?”

He didn’t answer, his gaze dark and piercing. “Put it back.”

“No.”

“Y/n,” he said, his voice low and dangerous, “this isn’t a game.”

“Then stop treating me like I’m too stupid to understand!” you shot back. “I deserve to know the truth.”

Heeseung’s jaw tightened, but before he could respond, another voice interrupted.

“She’s right.”

You turned to see Jungwon standing in the doorway, his expression calm but firm.

“Jungwon—”

“She’s already in this,” Jungwon said, cutting Heeseung off. “Keeping her in the dark isn’t going to help.”

For a moment, Heeseung looked like he wanted to argue, but then he sighed, running a hand through his hair.

“Fine,” he said. “But you’re not going to like what you hear.”

The seven of them gathered in the living room, their expressions a mixture of reluctance and resignation. You sat in the center of the room, your arms crossed as you waited for them to speak.

It was Jay who finally broke the silence.

“About a century ago, we made a deal,” he said, his voice steady. “A deal that gave us everything we wanted—power, wealth, immortality.”

“But it came with a price,” Jungwon added, his tone softer.

“The pact bound us to this mansion,” Sunghoon said. “And to each other.”

“And now, to you,” Ni-ki said, his gaze sharp.

Your stomach twisted. “Why me?”

“Because the pact requires balance,” Jake said. “It’s not just about what we gain—it’s about what we give. And every few decades, the pact chooses someone new to… connect us.”

“Connect you how?”

They hesitated, exchanging uneasy glances.

“The pact feeds on emotion,” Sunoo said quietly. “Pain, love, desire. It doesn’t care what it is, as long as it’s strong.”

“And you think I’m just going to… what? Stick around and let you use me as some kind of emotional battery?”

“It’s not like that,” Jake said quickly. “We didn’t choose you. The pact did.”

“Then break it,” you snapped.

“We can’t,” Heeseung said. “We’ve tried.”

Their words left you reeling, your mind struggling to process everything.

“You’re telling me you’ve been alive for a hundred years? That you’re immortal?”

“Yes,” Heeseung said simply.

“And now I’m… what? Stuck here forever?”

“No,” Jungwon said. “You’re not bound to the pact the way we are. You can leave if you want.”

“Then why haven’t I?”

The room fell silent.

“Because,” Sunghoon said finally, “deep down, you don’t want to.”

Their words hung heavy in the air, the truth settling into your chest like a weight.

They were right. You didn’t want to leave. Not yet. Not until you understood why you felt so drawn to them—and why the pact had chosen you in the first place.

Masterlist Previous Next

[autumnlassitude]

Hello, I’ve made a playlist for my darling bhaalspawn Felix, please clap.

[kindacreepy-kindaugly]

Maybe it's just my paranoia but I'm startin to feel he's got some abilities we aren't aware of

Startin to feel he did somethin to my brain that he's not supposed to be able to do

[pochaccoups]

things you do that make svt bust quick (nsfw)

seungcheol —; tell him how good he’s doing

he’s a leo male… please stroke his ego.

tell him how you love his cock, how big he is, how it hits so deep inside you. tell him “right there,” and “keep going,” and to do it “just like that.”

stroke his possessive side too. tell him no one else can fuck you like he can, no one else can stretch you out so good, no one else can make you cum like he does. tell him that your pussy is made for him only.

be loud for him. god, he loves hearing you moan. say his name, beg for more, sob, whimper, gasp for him. don’t be shy about it. it’ll only be a matter of time before you butter him up enough to make him cum.

jeonghan —; beg

everyone knows yoon jeonghan likes having people at his mercy. he gets a little unhinged when he has power over someone—so imagine what he gets like when you’re writhing on his cock, gasping his name so sweetly, your eyes glimmering with tears as he fucks you hard.

“what is it, pretty?” he asks, and like the devil he is, he slows the movement of hips, pulling out of you until his tip barely kisses your also weeping hole. it’s torture for him too, to leave the hot, tight haven that is your cunt, but to him it’s worthwhile.

“wanna cum, hannie,” you whimper.

“hm… i don’t know if i should let you yet,” he says, dipping back inside just an inch. years of him being yours means you don’t miss the tiny strain in his voice that betrays his perfectly collected demeanour.

“please, hannie, please, please, please, let me cum. i’ve been so good,” you sob, squeezing your thighs where they rest on his hips.

you watch as a switch flips in his eyes within a millisecond. a grin lights up his face and he shudders, and he’s sliding back inside you, fucking in and out of you harder and faster than before. safe to say it doesn’t take long for either of you to cum after that.

joshua —; make eye contact

his pretty doe eyes make staring into them your favourite thing in the world, and if you asked him his favourite pastime, he’d tell you that it was gazing into your irises.

it’s also his biggest weakness. from the way you’ve got your mouth wrapped around his dick, throat gagging even though you’re only halfway down it, joshua feels his sanity slipping away. his fingers curl into the bedsheets below as he watches you work him, revels in the warmth of your tongue sliding up and down his shaft.

when your eyes flick up to meet his he doesn’t stand a chance. not with how glimmering they are, brimming softly with tears, yet swimming with adoration. with worship.

heat washes over his whole body, he’s gasping, and the salty warmth of his release pools on your tongue.

jun —; put his fingers in your mouth

when junhui gets inside you he has a one-track mind. he becomes rapt with pleasure, drunk from the warm squeeze of your pussy around him, focused on nothing but the sensation of you, the sight of you under him, the sound of you in his ears.

the effect you have on him is dangerous, because you’re equally obsessed with him as he is with you, and you’re not afraid to show him.

and you love his hands, he knows you do—knows how you love his slender fingers and their soft touches all over you, inside you. your brain is cloudy, fogged by lust when you take him by his wrist and bring his fingers to your mouth. your eyes sparkle as your lips wrap around his index finger, your soft tongue swirling around it.

jun’s mouth parts with awe, his eyes growing round. a second later, he stills inside you with a gasp of your name, like he’s praying to you, all the while you’re sucking on his finger like a devil.

hoshi —; scratch him

he’s a little bit of a freak, and a masochist too.

when he’s got you folded in half, hitting all the right spots inside you, you cling to him in every way you can—fingers grabbing at his biceps, his shoulders. one particular stroke of his hips has you squealing.

your nails sink into his skin, crying out his name as you rake them down the toned planes of his back. the second you do, soonyoung is grunting, hips stilling, cock twitching as a sticky warmth suddenly floods your cervix.

the worst part about it is how he always has the stupidest, most shit-eating smug grin on his face when he examines your damage in the bathroom after, and you know that if he could, he would post the selfies he takes in the mirror all over instagram. what’s even worse though? seeing your marks makes him hard again.

wonwoo —; cry

you’re such a sensitive little thing and wonwoo adores you. one orgasm on his fingers and you’re already overstimulated—“but baby, i haven’t even put my cock in you yet,” he’ll coo.

like it’s your fault you have a boyfriend with skilled fingers and a skilled tongue and who knows you inside and out like the back of his hand, who knows where to touch you and how hard and what pace makes you writhe the most.

by the time he does get inside you, you’re gasping and whining and clawing at him, tears springing to your eyes because he’s so big and so deep, but the stretch is so addictive that it’s dizzying. his voice is low and husky as he mutters to you a mixture of teases and praise, calls you his pretty girl and then laughs at sensitive you are, pretends he’s not on the verge of coming from the sound of your choked gasps.

your belly starts to pulse with that familiar heat and by then you’re keening for him, whimpering a mixture of his name and endless pleas as it starts to become too much. your sobs go straight to his cock, and it’s only a matter of time before he reaches his climax, and his gasps of pleasure harmonise with your own cries.

woozi —; pull his hair

he’s been growing his hair out. after all your begging, he finally listened. in a way, though, it’s backfired a little on you, because the longer it gets the more insane you become. and the thing is you never expected him to let it get to his shoulders—and still he doesn’t plan on cutting it. well, good. you would kill him if he did.

when his face is between your legs you’re nothing short of a feral animal—your hips bucking wild against his mouth, your legs trembling on his shoulders, your fingers, of course, grabbing fistfuls of his hair. he makes you whine when he pulls away from your needy, sticky cunt to tsk at you, tells you to cut it out and keep your hands to yourself. (it’s because he’s about to cream his pants).

when he bends you in half beneath him, ruts into you hard and fast and relentless, you need leverage. your hands land on the back of his neck, fingertips grazing at his roots, then one slam of his hips into yours has his cock bumping against the most sensitive spot inside you and your grasping at his hair and crying his name so desperately. no longer can he hold back, strained groans slipping past his lips as he lets go inside you.

dokyeom —; hold his hand

a sentimental sweetheart, seokmin is an utter romantic who thinks that being inside of you, whether in your mouth or your pussy, is intimacy in its purest form. now imagine showing him just how much more intimate things can get.

he’s losing his mind at the feeling of your tongue swirling around the head of his cock, the way you swallow his length down making him see stars. he can’t bare to look at you—he needs to focus on taking deep breaths so that he doesn’t cum straight down your throat. then he feels you grabbing at one of his hands, lacing your fingers together, and no amount of deep breathing can stop him from releasing.

and when he fucks you it’s no different—it’s him in near tears, whimpering your name between incoherent words over and over, and as soon as you take his hand in yours and your fingers wrap around his, there’s nothing else he can do but succumb to his own pleasure.

mingyu —; take control

he’s big and strong; strong enough to put you into whatever position he wants, to make you cum at his command, to do just as he pleases with you.

but that’s exactly why he likes it when you slap him around a little.

you can’t exactly bend him into doggy or use your weight to keep him pinned to the mattress, but you can sit yourself pretty on his cock and ride him teasingly slow. you can tell him he’s not allowed to touch you or you’ll stop moving. you can tell him to kiss you, to go slower, to go harder.

you can sit up and put a hand around his throat, still your hips, and tell him he can fuck you himself if he wants to cum. and he’ll do just that—and as soon as you utter the words, he’s gone, whining out curses as he fills you up in white, warm spurts.

minghao —; whisper in his ear

minghao often tells you how he adores your voice. when you talk to him he’s entranced, and he’s always been more of a listener than a talker, and it’s perfect because you always have so much to say, and minghao will listen to every last word of yours.

your voice—minghao’s kryptonite, his achilles’ heel, his undoing and, oh, the way you moan for him when he’s got you on his cock is enough to make his heart stop beating. the perverted part of him wishes he could record you, hide the file away on his phone and listen to you when he’s overseas and he can’t call you. maybe he’ll ask you about that, if he can find the courage.

the final blow is when you’re getting close. you lean in, right next to his ear, so close that your breath sends shivers along his skin. “please, hao, i’m so close,” you whisper, yet you still sound so desperate and depraved. “you are too, right? cum for me, please. i’ll cum for you too.”

so he does just that—minghao gives in and lets his orgasm wash over him, fingertips drawing circles on your clit until mere moments later he hears the sound of your own cresting pleasure and he feels himself getting hard again.

seungkwan —; wrap your legs around him

it’s a fact that seungkwan loves to be close to you. if he could, he would crawl inside of your skin and live in your heart. but since he can’t, constant physical touch is the next best thing.

he likes to think he has relatively good self-control…most of the time. like when he’s buried to the hilt inside you, he’s incredible at keeping in rhythm, fucking into you at the most perfect pace for both you and him, hitting the spot that makes your back arch off the bed.

somehow he never sees it coming—when your arms are snaked around his neck and you’re holding onto him for dear life as he takes you to heaven, and your legs wrap around his waist so that you can pull him in impossibly deep. then you bring his face to yours, and you have the most irresistible little pout on your face when you make your request. “cum inside me, seungkwannie?”

and it’s not like he has much choice with the way you’ve trapped him inside of you, but that’s the very reason why the next second he’s pumping you full, because when it’s you, how is he supposed to have any self-control?

vernon —; touch yourself

it’s not like vernon can last long in general. he thinks you’re the hottest thing alive and he’s so enamoured with you that it’s too much for him sometimes, but you best believe he’ll put his all into holding out just for you.

there are times, however, where he’s just a man. and what’s a man to do when he has a goddess riding his dick? when your tits look so pretty, bouncing in his face, when you have that fucked out look in your eyes, when you feel like heaven and hell all at once?

and what the fuck is a man to do when your hand drifts down between your legs, to your aching clit, and your fingers start to rub it in circles, or when your other hand grasps one of your tits and tugs at one of your own nipples? and your sweet pussy clenches around him so tight when you do, clamps down on him in an hot, wet embrace, so what else can he do but cum?

dino —; say ‘i love you’

another sweet, sentimental boy. lee chan is head over heels for you, enamoured, obsessed, smitten, infatuated with you… the list of things he is around you is endless.

it shows in the way he fucks you—always takes his time with you, never rushes taking you apart. every touch of his is intentional, meant to set you both ablaze. when he eats you out to prep you for his cock, he has to try not to cum in his pants from how pretty you are.

where he really doesn’t stand a chance however is when he’s bottomed out inside you, as close as he can possibly be with you—so close you’re practically one. the sweetest sounds fall from your lips, spurring on his expert thrusts.

his forehead is plastered to yours, the pair of you revelling in one another’s sweat and gasps for air. “i love you,” you confess gently, and chan falls over the edge of pleasure not a moment later.

[s0dium]

I fucking hate him

A/n: One of the dialogues is lightly taken from "God of Ruin" by Rina Kentaken (plz check it out) Enjoy!!

Word count: 3.5k

Synopsis: You detest Yuji's uncle, Sukuna. His demeanor is rude and abrasive, and he is undoubtedly a sadist. You don't even try to hide your disdain, but the more you try to distance yourself from him, the stronger his opposition grows. Each attempt to push him away only seems to draw him in closer, closer, ever so close.

"You're fucking insufferable," you spat, your eyes narrowing with hatred. "You're pretentious," Sukuna shot back, a smug grin tugging at the corner of his mouth." No, you're a narcissist," you hiss" Yeah, but I turn you on," he purrs

Warning: Hate sex, rough sex, biting, fingering, edging, cowgirl, size kink, breeding, unprotected sex, slight voyeurism, breeding

You remember the day you met Sukuna for the first time like it was yesterday.

It was during the somber occasion of Wasuke Itadori's funeral—Yuji's beloved grandfather. The day was draped in a heavy sorrow; after the ceremony and the lowering of the casket, you followed the Itadori family back to their home. Being practically family yourself, and living just next door, it felt natural to join them and if not grieve, support the grieving family alongside them. While everyone gathered in the garden, sharing hushed memories and quiet support, you slipped inside the house to charge your phone.

As you stepped into the room, the air felt suddenly charged, like the prelude to a storm. There in the living room, was a man, a large man, lounging on one of the sofas dressed in a black suit and tie. The first thing you notice is his striking pink hair contrasting sharply with the dark, intricate tattoos that crawl up his neck and frame his face. His eyes, sharp and unyielding, fix on you the moment you enter, and his smirk is like a crack in a mask of indifference.

"You must be the famous dear friend of the family, Y/n right?" he drawls, his voice as smooth as silk and just as dangerous. "Heard a lot about you. All good things, I promise." His voice drips with sarcasm making you thickly gulp.

You hesitate by the doorway, your initial smile freezing on your lips. This was the Sukuna Ryomen? The man you'd heard only in hushed conversations between Jin and Choso, the man Yuji calls his uncle? You try to muster your composure, crossing the room to stand at a respectable distance.

"I wish I could say the same," you reply, aiming for polite but firm. Your voice wavers just slightly.

Sukuna chuckles, a sound that rumbles deep in his chest. "Oh, come now. No need for such defenses. I'm not the monster they painted in their tales. Or perhaps I am, and that's what intrigues you? What do you think so far" he bends forward. "Am I intriguing?"

You bristle at his words, the arrogance dripping from each syllable like poison. "I-I dont know about that." You curse yourself at the way your voice comes out as a stutter. "I'm here out of respect for your family."

"Respect," he repeats, tasting the word as if it's something exotic. "Funny, I never put much stock in that. The old man sure tried to teach me, shame he is gone. But perhaps you'll teach me its value?"

What the hell does he mean by that?

He stands suddenly, closing the distance between you with a few measured steps. You can’t help but step back, your back hitting the wall. His presence is overwhelming, suffocating.

"Why so tense?" Sukuna teases, leaning close, his breath ghosting over your cheek. "I'm just trying to get to know you better. After all, anyone who loves my family must have some redeeming qualities, hidden though they may be. Although," he tilts his head, as if analyzing you. "I wouldn't be surprised if they just kept you around cause you're a pretty thing to look at."

You feel a flush of anger and embarrassment heating your cheeks. "I think you've gotten to know enough for one day," you snap, ducking under his arm and striding toward the door. His laughter follows you, low and mocking.

"Oh, don't be like that!" he calls out. "We're just getting started!"

It only took a minute. One minute for you to decide that you hated Sukuna with a fucking passion.

Unfortunately, the fact that Sukuna had just gotten out of jail, did nothing to hamper your hatred. It seemed like ever since he got out, he was not only determined to stick to the family, but to you, like glue.

The Friday night dinners with the Itadori family, once cherished and loved, had practically turned into a battleground. What used to be a warm gathering was now filled with endless teasing and arrogant attempts at flirting. You were even hesitant to stay over now, as you were never to sure when you’d turn a corner and there Sukuna would be with some sleazy remark about your pajamas.

You tried talking to the Itadori family about it, tried complaining to Jin and raise your concerns. And as receptive and understanding as they were, you knew that for them, blood was thicker than anything, and in some part, you knew that applied to you too.

Still, you persisted, even now as you sat at another Friday dinner you were determined to just enjoy yourself with the family you loved so much.

Key word, tried.

"Well, Jin, I must say, this food is... quaint.” He says through a chuckle and you have to bite the inside of your cheek from throwing a fork at him right there and then. “Did you burn it on purpose, or was that just a happy accident?"

"Dude," You breathe a sigh of relief when Choso speaks up, his voice calm but firm. "Can you go one day without being a jerk?" His eyes are fixed on Sukuna, echoing the frustration you both share about his behavior. This solidarity is one of the reasons why you feel closest to Choso in the family. His understanding and shared grievances with the insufferable man were one of the reasons why you two were best friends.

"Please, I bet this food beats anything you had in prison." You whisper under your breath, but audibly enough that others catch it when you hear Choso breathe through his nose in a laugh-like snort.

Sukuna sets down his silverware and leans forward with a grin, his eyebrows raised in amusement as he gazes across the table at you. "Oh, someone's got a sharp tongue," he remarks. "Careful, angel, you might cut yourself."

You roll your eyes and sharply cross your arms. "Funny, coming from someone who probably had to beg for scraps behind bars. Do you even know what real food tastes like?"

You don’t miss the way Yuji chokes on his pasta, stifling back laughter making you smile.

Sukuna's lips curve into a sly smirk as he locks eyes with you. "Oh trust me, I've tasted a lot of things. But I guess you wouldn't understand, being so... sheltered."

Unfazed, you shoot back with a dismissive wave of your hand, "Sheltered? Please. At least I don’t need to rely on prison slop to remind me of home."

This time, Sukuna's response is a silent, piercing stare that makes you shift uncomfortably in your seat. Even though you were wearing a sweater and shorts, his gaze made you feel like you were naked.

From the corner, Jin clears his throat, chuckling nervously. "Um, maybe we should all just calm down a bit—"

You cut him off, your voice firm as you defend the meal laid out before you. “No way, not when he disrespects your food, which is great, may I add.”

"Oh, I love it when you get all fired up." Sukuna's eyes glint with mischief as he watches your rising frustration. "It's adorable."

Feeling the heat rush to your cheeks, you stand up abruptly, pushing your chair back with a scrape. "Excuse me, I think I'm full," you declare crisply, gathering your dishes with a clatter and storming off to the kitchen to dump them in the sink. Without a backward glance, you stride toward the living room, your footsteps echoing your irritation.

"Come on, why do you always gotta be such an ass, Uncle?" Yuji mumbles, shooting a glare at Sukuna who only responds with a shrug.

As you sank into the couch cushions, you let out a deep sigh of relief, your body sinking into the familiar comfort of your favorite spot. You turned on the TV, dazedly watching whatever was on, trying to distract yourself from the day's tensions. Of course, thoughts of Sukuna kept creeping into your mind. What was his problem with you? Did the man get dropped on the head as a baby? How and the hell were he and Jin brothers?? Surely he was the result of some fucked up science experiment.

Engulfed in your thoughts, the passage of time slipped unnoticed until a shift in the couch's cushion snapped you back to reality. You turned, and -

Oh what the fuck.

Sukuna settled next to you, leaning on the armrest of the other side of the couch, a tattooed hand settled on his thigh, He had changed into a white tank top and sweatpants, and you feel your heart jump when your eyes unconsciously travel to between his leg where a slight budge pressed against the fabric. Shit. The tips of your ears turned red and you bit the inside of your cheek. That's another thing you loathed about Sukuna; how the scent of his old spice shampoo made you dizzy, how the way he towered over you made your breathing stop, how despite how fucking insufferable he was, he was so so so attractive.

"What the hell are you doing here?" you choked out, your tone edged with disbelief and irritation.

Sukuna raised an eyebrow, unfazed. "What does it look like? Watching TV," he replied coolly, his eyes briefly scanning the screen before settling back on you. "Everyone's gone to sleep, you know."

"No, what are you doing sitting next to me?" you hissed, the proximity suddenly feeling far too close despite the physical distance. Your eyes narrowed, locking onto his vermillion eyes.

"Why you afraid I'll bite?" He says, gnashing his teeth together in a teasing display before moving closer to you. "Don't worry, I only bite when I'm asked."

"S-stop talking to me like that," you say, trying to shuffle back, but find yourself already trapped against the armrest.

"Like what?" Sukuna's voice is teasing, almost playful.

"Like I'm your toy."

He tilts his head slightly and leans forward, a smirk playing at his lips. "More like my doll."

"More like your grim reaper. I'll slice your throat if you touch me," you retort sharply, the tension between you crackling. You watch the way his eyes rake over you like a porn magazine, making you cross your arms as if to shield yourself.

He laughs, a sound rich with amusement. "You're such a menace. I want to gobble you up."

As he inches closer, the scent of his shampoo fills the air—a fragrance so intoxicating you want to bury your nose in it, yet you resist. "I'll give you indigestion, asshole," you snap, trying to maintain your composure.

"Worth it, muse," he counters smoothly, his eyes locking onto yours.

"Sure you're going to be thinking about that when I punch you in the face?"

"Oh, and make me bleed? Blood?" He licks his lips. "Yum." He feigns shock, leaning even closer. "You just keep ticking all my boxes today. Did you do your research on me?"

"Not even if you were the last man alive," you choke out, his proximity overwhelming, his face just inches from yours now. A slight move, and your noses would brush against each other.

"Last man to everyone else? No. To you? Highly likely." His whisper is a taunt, his breath a warm tease against your skin.

That's it.

As you attempt to rise from the couch, Sukuna's large hand swiftly lands on your thigh, pressing just firmly enough to guide you back down onto the cushion. You react instinctively, trying to swat his hand away, but he's quicker; he catches both of your wrists in his grasp, holding them gently yet with an unyielding firmness.

"What the hell are you doing?" you demand, your voice sharp with alarm and a flare of anger, your eyes locked intensely on his, searching for an explanation in his steady gaze.

"Jesus christ Y/n" Sukuna groans, rolling his eyes, "How long are we going to keep this thing of ours going?"

You furrowed your eyebrows. “Our thing? What thing?”

“The thing where we act like we hate each other but actually want to fuck the brains out of each other.” He chuckles.

Your eyes widen and you feel your face grow deathly hot. You try to step back, and get some space, some room to breathe, but the hand on your wrist keeps you from doing so.

“I-fuck you” The words come out of your mouth more soft and meager than you intended to, and you find yourself locked into his blue gaze.

“Believe me, I've thought about it.” His voice is low, and his face isn't painted with a shit-eating grin like it so usually is, he's serious and stern. You stay silent as you watch him examine your face. He leans in, close enough to kiss you, raises his right hand and runs his finger tips down your face.

"Will you bite my tongue if I kiss you?"

"Maybe"

Sukuna's mouth crashes onto yours, hard, angry, and demanding. He doesn't even give you a chance to resist, not even a breath. His lips are fierce against yours, stealing every breath you try to take. Your hands instinctively move to push him away, but instead, you find yourself gripping his shirt, pulling him closer.

You meet his aggression with equal force, your lips moving furiously against his. His hands cup your face roughly, holding you in place as his tongue demands entry. You respond with a whine, opening up to him, your tongues tangling in a heated dance.

Every kiss is a challenge, every touch a dare. You bite his lower lip, drawing a groan from him that vibrates through you. His hands slide down to your waist, pulling you flush against him. The intensity of the moment leaves you breathless, hot, and angry.

Your fingers thread through his hair, tugging sharply as if to remind him you won't be dominated easily. He retaliates by pressing you harder against the cushions, so you have no choice but to melt into him.

In one swift motion, Sukuna pulls back just enough to yank his shirt over his head, revealing muscles lined with black tattoos beneath. Before you can even take a breath, he’s back, his mouth claiming yours with renewed fervor. His hands move to your shirt, fingers pulling at the fabric of your sweater. You break the kiss for a mere second as he tugs your shirt off, then he dives back in, his lips crashing against yours with a hunger that makes your head spin.

His hands roam over your newly exposed skin, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. Your breath hitches as his fingers find the waistband of your pants. He undoes them with a practiced ease, pushing them down and leaving you in just underwear and bra, feeling vulnerable and exposed.

"W-what do you think you're doing?" you stutter, trying to maintain some semblance of control.

"What does it look like I'm doing?" he replies, his voice low and filled with a wicked amusement.

He leans in, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, "I'm gonna fuck you." His hands slide over your hips, pulling your pants down completely, and you shiver at the sensation of his touch.

You whine when he places his knee between your legs which pushes against your clothed crotch. You involuntarily buck up your hips to try and gain more friction, making Sukuna chuckle; his shit eating grin widening.

“Needy, arent you?”

Your instinct is to tell him to fuck off, but he is already hooking a finger under your pastel pink panties; pulling the material down to reveal your cunt. You mentally curse yourself at the fact that you're already wet, a fact that will sure to swell Sukuna's ego.

Your hands fly down to hide yourself but he swats them away, giving you a glare before sliding a finger up and down your wet slit; collecting the juices before pushing a digit into your tight hole.

"S-shit." your groan, and the moment you clench around him, a sickening grin spreads across his tattooed face.

"Always knew you where gonna feel great around me."

The first curl of his fingers knocks the wind out of you, as it hits the sweet spot inside of you that you could only dream to reach on your own.

“Hah~ I cant-” You whimper, stomach clenching and legs trembling from the pleasure. You want to say you hate this, tell him to get off of you but you can't, you can't even think straight. You even push your hips out, angling them so his digits reach deeper into that sweet spot that sends tendrils of electricity through your body. But before you can fully bask in the pleasure, before you can taste your orgasm on your tongue, he pulls his fingers out.

"You think I'm gonna let you cum so early? After all the shit you have pulled?" His hand flies to your throat wrapping around it with a force that belies the strength behind it. Your breath hitches, a strange mix of fear and exhilaration coursing through your veins. His touch is firm, and commanding, but there’s an undeniable pleasure in the way his fingers tighten slightly, reminding you of the power he holds.

"Nah no way." Sukuna chuckles "Your just gonna have to suck it up."

You try to speak, but his grip tightens just enough to cut off your words, leaving you gasping. The pressure on your throat is intoxicating, a strange pleasure mingling with the discomfort. You can feel your pulse throbbing under his hand. You are so dazed that you don’t even notice he has pulled out his dick until you feel something big pressing against your entrance, making you look down and your eyes widen as you do so.

You’re about to open your mouth to say something, what, you do not know, but all of a sudden Sukuna pushes his dick into you until his hips are flushed against yours. It feels like you're being split in two, and the way his tip smushes against your cervix makes you unable to find your breath. The unfamiliar feeling has you squirming and clenching around his cock; body desperately trying to push out the foreign intrusion.  

“Shit you gotta loosen up doll, cant fuck you like this.” There were veins popping on his temple as he started to rub tight circles on your clit. Bolts of pleasure shoot up your body, and you desperately try to relax your body.

“Atta girl” He coos, withdrawing his hips before slamming into your.

The first thrust completely knocks the wind out of you. The collision with your gspot has you arching your back of the couch; eyes screwed shut and letting out a loud moan. He's girth spread you so well, so much, and the friction was so delicious, tears blotted your eyesight. Your skin is buzzing, and your entire lower half is shaking from the pleasure. Sukuna's pace is brutal, unforgiving, and he has to grab the arm rest above you with one arm to help his brutal and unforgiving pace into you.

Your mind grows hazy, lost in the sensation of how good he was fucking you, but then, without explanation, a spark of defiance ignites within you. Suddenly, you find the strength to flip him over, his dick not leaving the warmth of your cunt once and so you were effectively laying on top of him, your legs on either side of his body. With your chest flushed against his, and your ass perked up in the air, you begin to fuck yourself on his dick, raising your hips up and down his length as if he was a dildo.

"Oh thats it." Sukuna is not a whining man but here he is, his voice cracking from the feeling and sight of you riding him. "Fuck yourself on me shit shit shit."

You are practically drooling on his chest, your eyes rolling back from how good he felt against your G spot.

You let a whine when you feel yourself start to get tired so Sukuna grabs your hips and starts fucking you on his length.

Fap.Fap.Fap

"Gonna cum in you baby ok?" He murmurs into your ear and you dazedly nod.

Suddenly you feel your stomach dip and your mind go blank. Your mind feels as though it’s been dipped in pure euphoria, thoughts scattering like leaves in the wind, replaced by an overwhelming wave of bliss that drowns out everything else. Your body responds in kind, muscles tensing and releasing in perfect harmony with the pleasure coursing through you. It’s as if every cell is vibrating with delight, your skin tingling with a heightened sensitivity that makes even the slightest touch feel like a divine caress. The heat of the sensation is intoxicating, making your limbs feel weightless as if you’re floating on a cloud of pure, unadulterated joy.

Sukuna is quick to follow, shooting ropes of thick cum that glide down his shaft onto his balls.

"See? We are practically made for each other."

[starstruckmiraclekitty]

Simon was seething. Never had he been so viscerally angry, his temper dangerously towing the tight rope that was his self control. You’d almost been killed. You’d been shot, and you were damn lucky that it hadn’t been fatal.

He found you on the roof later that night, no longer hiding the pain the bullet wound in your side had caused once you thought you were alone. It took all of two seconds of him seeing you hurting like that for him to snap.

“The fuck were you thinking out there, Y/N?!” His voice echoed in the night air, causing you to flinch slightly. “Do please tell me you’ve got a reasonable explanation for what happened.”

“Simon, please just calm down for a minute.” Your voice was soft, too soft, and it only fueled his anger more.

“Calm down? You want me to calm down?” Simon bellowed, his self control rapidly slipping out of his grasp. “You almost fuckin’ died, Y/N!”

Simon hated the way you flinched, hated the way you backed up ever so slightly away from him, but he couldn’t control himself. He had almost lost you.

“I know that, Simon. I know. But I don’t regret what went down.” You forced your voice steady, your eyes not leaving his as you attempted to stand your ground. “I-.”

“You don’t regret almost getting shot? Y/N, you’re not on this team to make reckless decisions. If I knew you’d be making choices like that, I’d have had Price kick you off the team months ago! Almost dying, for what? For what?!” Simon moved closer to you, the red in his vision nearly blinding, and this time you didn’t back away.

“For you, asshole!” You screamed, your hands reaching for Simon’s chest, pushing him as hard as you possibly could. Simon barely moved an inch before you screamed again. “For you! If I hadn’t taken that bullet, you would’ve died!”

Simon’s world stopped in that moment, the red vanishing from his vision, his heart coming to a slow halt in his chest as he absorbed your words. For him?

“He was aiming at you, Simon. If I hadn’t stepped in the way, we would’ve lost you. And I.” You trailed off, unable to look at the hulking man in front of you. “I don’t know, I didn’t hesitate, it was as if it was just instinct for me.”

Simon could hear his heartbeat in his ears, the soft thud thud thud the only thing keeping him grounded. You’d saved him. You’d risked your life to save him.

You, the sweet soldier who always put others first. You, the one who’d always patched him up late at night, laughing at his shitty jokes. You, the one who understood him like nobody else. You, the one person in this godforsaken world that got him to lower the never ending walls within him. You, the one he’d unknowingly loved for years. Saved him.

“I know it was stupid, and if you want to kick me off of the team for it, fine. But I’d do it again.” You threw your hands up in the air, and Simon didn’t miss the way you winced from the pain in your side. “I don’t regret it.”

Simon only stared at you, his eyes betraying none of the inner turmoil that he was currently experiencing.

“I couldn’t lose you, Simon.” Your voice was barely audible as you spoke, your eyes falling on the lower half of his mask. “Not now, not ever. I don’t know what I would’ve done if that bullet hit you.”

Simon’s eyes found yours as he let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He opened his mouth to speak, but his tongue felt heavy, incapable of moving. For the first time in his life, he truly didn’t know what to say.

He watched as you chewed your bottom lip, your eyes leaving his yet again as you looked down at your feet. God he wishes he could say something, anything, but as always words failed him around you.

“I’ve got to go report in to Price.” You said, slowly turning away from him to face the door. “I won’t apologize for what I did, but I’m sorry for causing you to doubt my ability to support the team. Have a good night, lieutenant.”

Watching you turn away from him had finally stirred something within him, his heart rapidly beating in his chest. He had to make this right.

“Y/N.” Simon found his voice as you reached the roof’s door, causing you to turn to face him. “Wait.”

Your heart practically stopped beating upon finding Simon’s mask discarded, his face now fully bare for you to see. You weren’t sure what you had expected, once you’d finally seen him, but it certainly wasn’t this.

He was simply beautiful. Every scar, every small freckle, dimple, wrinkle had formed his face impeccably well, and you couldn’t help but stare at him as your mind ran completely blank.

You’d fallen for the masked man long ago, his dry humor, loyalty and bravery were something that’d you’d found yourself drawn to. You’d meant what you said to him about not regretting taking a bullet for him. You loved him. And truthfully couldn’t fathom a life without him.

“Now you see me.” Simon breathed, his eyes softening as he watched you take in every inch of his face. He should’ve felt vulnerable, shy even. But he didn’t. Not with you. He wanted you to see him, every imperfect inch of him.

He bared himself to you, let his face and eyes tell you everything he didn’t know how to express with words.

“I’ve always seen you, Simon Riley.” You spoke, your voice barely above a whisper as your hand softly cupped his cheek. “Always.”

And that was all it took for Simon to know he loved you.

[cheriecoke]

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ LEAVING LIPSTICK STAINS ON LEVI

fem!reader, sfw, fluff, you leave lipstick all over levi before a mission and the scouts find out, just something super cutesy & short while i work on some longer pieces hehe, pls ignore errors lol, 1.3k words

“promise you’ll come back in one piece?” you say, smoothing the wrinkle between levi’s brow with a kiss. 

he glances up at you from under his lashes, crinkling his nose as a short, breathy laugh escapes him, one he tries to subdue. still, he can’t deny the happiness that slips onto his features, not when joy is so fleeting because of the life that the two of you live. 

cold hands run across your back, down to your hips as you straighten his collar, kissing his sharp cheekbones, the bridge of his nose. “i’ve made it this far, haven’t i?” levi mutters, squeezing your sides gently before shifting you off of his lap.

he lifts you, sets you on the edge of his desk, causing some of the papers that erwin had dropped off earlier to crinkle. a smile graces your lips as levi stands, stretching his limbs behind him, the chair pushing away from the desk with a creak.

“i’m going to be late because of you,” levi remarks, eyes narrowed playfully, but he gives you another kiss on the lips, lingering there like it’s painful to pull away.

“then stop kissing me.” your hands splay across his chest, but you don’t push him away, feeling his heart beat under his ribcage, the melody that you will always come back to. still, levi tugs your hips forward, slots in between your legs, and kisses you even deeper. “it’s time for you to go, captain levi.” 

a heavy sigh weighs against your mouth, his exhale warm as he pulls back. “sounds like you want me gone.” 

“of course i don’t.” your voice softens as you play with his fingers for a moment, before he's tugging them away gently, withdrawing from your figure. “i'm going to have to find someone else to sleep next to while you’re away."

normally, you would’ve been going with levi and the rest of the scouts, but an injury from your last mission prevented you from going on any more for a few weeks. 

levi snorts, putting on his jacket, fixing the leather straps across his chest. “is that all i’m good for? killing titans and keeping your bed warm?”

you make a face at him, then shrug, half-hearted as he stares back at you with amusement. then, you laugh, cheerful and free; you know levi will come back to you. he has no other choice. 

levi makes his way towards the door. 

“levi?” 

he turns, the lipstick stains still visible on his cheek, dark against his pale skin. for a moment, you wonder if you should tell him—if he’d be mad if you didn’t. 

but then you remember he’s going to meet with a squad of fifteen year olds that have all almost died alongside him. if they really have a problem with their captain being loved by you, then they don’t care about him as much as you thought. 

you smile and shake your head, voice holding just enough mischief for levi to notice. “just be safe. i love you.” 

he softens. there are times where levi is hesitant to say the words, still worried you will be taken from him. but this is not one of those times. not when you will be separated for days, his life once again in danger. “i love you too, sweetheart.”

within ten minutes, levi is down to the first floor, pushing into the room where the members of his squad are already waiting. 

he’s only a minute late, but he feels like they must have been waiting for hours, the way that they are all gawking at him with wide eyes, connie’s jaw faltering slightly. “everyone here?” levi asks, doing a quick scan of the room, counting heads like he’s their babysitter. 

no one says anything. eren’s eyes look like they might bulge out of his head, and jean covers his mouth, looking away as him and sasha let out a stifled giggle. 

levi’s mouth draws into an even thinner line. “what the hell are you snickering about?" he grumbles, looking at each of them individually, wondering who will be the first to confess. 

their eyes dart away dramatically, faces red. even eren, who is normally more obnoxious than the rest, seems to have run out of words to say. 

his eye twitches; levi wonders if connie’s head might burst, or if sasha’s laugh will rip out of her first. 

“well?” levi asks again, snapping, already tired of this mission. a hot cup of tea sounds nice, in bed next to you.

armin, as usual, is the one to speak up when no one else has anything intelligent to say. “well, sir,” the blonde says, gesturing towards his own face. “i think…”

levi touches his cheek, remembering all the places you’d kissed him earlier, wearing that pretty black dress and your dark lipstick. a sigh leaves him when he pulls his fingers away, the tips coming back, smeared with a deep red. 

he should've known.

“i see," levi says, staring for a moment, before meeting eren's eyes, his lips finally widening into a grin.

“ooooh," eren sings, his expression smug as mikasa elbows him, her own features pinched tight. "the captain’s in looooove."

levi knows they are expecting a reaction, a spectacle of the fact that he adores you. but he’s never kept it a secret, and he’s certainly not ashamed of all the things he feels for you. 

“and what if i am?” levi asks instead, pointedly staring eren down as the rest of the scouts watch the exchange. “honestly, i am surprised no one noticed sooner.”

eren’s jaw falters a bit; a small wave of silence falls over the scouts. you and levi don't make a point of hiding your relationship, but really, levi shouldn’t have been surprised that no one in his squad was observant enough to notice. 

or so he thought, anyway.

historia’s smaller, high-pitched voice breaks up the quiet, repeating your name back to him, as if affirmation that you’re the one he kisses goodnight. a silly question really, considering levi has never looked at anyone else with the same kind of tenderness. 

“it is her, isn’t it?” historia asks, smiling softly. “i only know because you’re always holding hands under the table when you think no one can see.”

levi raises his eyebrow. “clearly we were wrong about that.” though, of all the things to notice, he thought it’d be the way you kiss him after every mission, the way he’s harder on you than anyone else because he doesn’t want to lose you.

eren shrieks your name like he’s never heard it before, and levi is starting to wonder if the boy actually is an idiot. his old squad had known immediately; petra caught you sneaking up to levi’s quarters when you thought everyone else was asleep, kissing him on the cheek when you thought everyone's back was turned. 

it’s been a long time since then, he supposes. maybe the years have taught you subtlety. 

“how long have you been together?”

“does she actually like you?” 

“do you—” connie makes a lewd gesture with his fingers. “you know.” 

“connie!” jean shouts, whacking him on the back of the head. “what do you think! dumbass.” 

“hey!" connie says, rubbing his head. “geez. i just can’t picture it.” 

"i’d rather you didn’t." levi’s face turns sour, disturbed by a room full of teenagers discussing his private and romantic life. “bring it up again and i’ll leave you outside of the wall on the next mission.” he pauses, crosses his arms with an exasperated exhale. “and she likes me just fine. at least, she has for the past five years.” 

“five—” 

a new wave of questioning starts and levi pinches his temples, shakes his head, the red smear of lipstick still on his face.

levi almost wishes you could’ve been there to field the questions instead. you’ve always been better with the kids, connected with them a lot easier than levi had.

even if it was would’ve exposed his lovesick eyes, the tiny lift of the corner of his mouth when you were around.

he’s never been very good about hiding it anyway.

[bunny-jpeg]

all access

simon "ghost" riley

tags: smut/pwp, semi-public sex, train station sex, unprotected sex, size difference/kink, breeding kink, possessive behavior, unhinged and filthy

a/n: inspired by true events

simon missed you. simon missed you more than anything, you were apart for only two weeks and he couldn't take it anymore! he knew he was being a hypocrite, he could leave for over a month for work and come home to a hot meal and a hotter cunt. sate his hunger while balls deep inside of you.

but it was different when you left for two weeks, visiting your mother up in the north and left simon all alone back in london. he needed you, and it was hard for you two to be apart when you didn't have to be. so maybe it was the most gentleman-like when he shuffled you from the train platform into a quiet, dark corridor and told you to get up on your toes so he could have access.

the underground hallway of the train station was near dead at this hour. all the commuters for the evening were already at their homes, nice and comfortable after dinner. but, simon was hungry for something else.

two weeks he had spent without you beautiful cunt. it was hard to go from your soft sex to his rough hand. no amount of photos and (eventually stained) panties could compete with you against him. the differences in size and strengths. he was near six foot-five and his bulk allowed for him to crowd in your space. while it was comforting, it was rather easy for him to pull you up against the concrete hall in the quiet hallway.

"i missed ya, baby." he said as his hand pushed up the skirt you wore, "wore this slutty lil thing because you knew i'd be on edge when you came home." he pressed you further up against the wall with your back arched a little to give him better access to your behind, "give me easy access to what belongs to me, huh? bet those little fingers of yours couldn't do anythin'. missed me, missed my cock." he got his cock out of his jeans, the belt still somewhat around his waist.

there was no time to lose, just because the station was quiet doesn't mean no late night traveler couldn't bound down those stairs and see a man of simon's size fuck a woman of your size out in public. he hiked your skirt up over your ass and got your panties down to your socks before he pressed up into your further. the tip of his cock slipped into your achy sex and you had to cover your mouth to keep quiet.

as much as simon would have loved to hear those moans echo in the hallway, he'd rather not have a citation put against either of you for the act of public sex. it was risky, but it only fueled the fire in simon's belly as he rocked against you. one hand on the wall over your head, the other on your hip. his grip was nice and tight on you, his cock battered against the deepest parts of you.

it was sexual filth, it was hot as he watched you hold back your moans as he fucked you up against the wall. the angle was a little hard given your size differences, but he knew you were into that. if simon was a pervert then so were you. you loved the rough, filthy sex you two had. made your little cunt squeeze around him as he fucked you quickly. no time for tenderness, not when simon was a man on a mission.

he said lowly in your ear, his tone quiet yet dangerous. he fucked up into you and you felt the swim of pleasure in your core as he spoke, "never leavin' me again, right, doll? not goin' anywhere unless i'm with ya." his tone made your head spin and you felt your core get soaked by his words. there was a fury to his thrusts as you tried to stay on your tip toes so he could fuck you up against the wall.

"si." you whispered.

"missed ya too much, thinkin' about ya all the time. thinkin' about your pretty little tits and my teeth marks all over them. your pussy and my cum inside of you. paintin' those pretty insides white." he groaned as he continued to thrust up against you.

the pleasure was mounting, the want in your core made your heart race. everything felt so exposed and it made your head spin. you covered your mouth once more to keep the noises trapped. the hallway remained empty as simon continued to hit up against you in all the right ways.

"need ya, need ya, doll." he said softly, "can't have you runnin' off like that again. not without me, i know, i know. i'm bein' all possessive, but can't fuck my hand anymore. not when i got my baby's sweet cunt to bury in." he purred lowly, his voice echoed in your body.

he kissed were feverish and you tensed up as he continued to rut up against you with a heated passion. the moans got caught in your throat, and were muffled by your hands. the pace was unsteady, a forceful need to lay claim to what it is. his woman, his everything.

"next time." he said, tone still quiet, "bring me, let me meet your mother, show her i'll be a good husband to you. i know she's been askin' about grandkids." his large hand grazed your middle and your stomach did a flip. he gave your stomach a pat and said, "might as well start workin' on that. visit your mum in a year with my chunky little son at your hip. riley boys, little hell-raisers."

that sent you over the edge. you near hit the wall with your hands as you clenched around him. you grit your teeth as pleasure hit down on you. it left you dizzy and slumped against the wall as you started to feel the after lingers.

"beautiful, my beautiful girl." he purred as he continued to rut against you. he continued to fuck your pretty body to his liking. a few more quick ruts and he finished inside of you with a deep exhale as he tried not to be too loud. it felt amazing, your cunt clung to him perfectly. he rocked against you a little further until he stopped and gave your ass a pat, 'that's it. perfect." he said with a immense sense of love before he bent down to get your panties back over your plush behind.

you couldn't form your words and instead leaned against simon as he took your suitcase and led you back to his car to bring you home. he lifted your suitcase like a real gentleman as the cold air brought you back to your senses.

his cum stuck to your panties while he opened the car door for you and even buckled you in. you whispered "i love you" when he got into the other side. he kissed you and replied, "i love you too, doll. but next time, i should come with ya. be with my baby's mama." he gave you a cheeky wink before he patted your thigh before he pulled the car out of the lot. a promise of a proper homecoming once you got back to your flat <3

[navybrat817]

For your consideration:

Imagine Bucky, the strong and dangerous and stern super soldier that by all accounts is terrifying as an opponent, being unable to stop himself from coming in his pants because of you. Maybe you don't even have to touch him; he gets so lost in the taste of you that he has to start grinding against the mattress, and accidentally comes when you do.

I've had this image in my head for days and had to share it somewhere, sorry 🫠

Nonnie, I love this so much. 🫠

Feral

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky gets a little feral now and then.

Word Count: Over 1.2k

Warnings: Oral sex (f. receiving), implied sex, possessive behavior, slight feels, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: Hope you lovelies enjoy. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky gets in a feral mood every now and then. He may let you know with a text that simply says, “Be ready.” and other days he won't give you a warning at all. By the time you hear his deep growl or see his pupils so blown that the blue irises nearly disappear you know you aren't leaving the bed for the next day. Or two.

Today you don't even hear him coming.

You’re in the middle of a shower when he suddenly shoves the curtain aside, and you’re lucky you don't have a heart attack or slip and fall. A shriek still leaves your mouth when you lock eyes with the ex-assassin and you see the blown pupils, and you're about to have a heart attack for a completely different reason. You hope your schedule is clear because you know he’s going to thoroughly ruin you and you’d rather not try to pull yourself back together for a while.

“Bed. Now.” His growl should make you move, but you’re still under the water and trapped by his massive body.

You don't move around him fast enough and he doesn't care that his clothes get wet when he grabs you and throws you over his shoulder. All he cares about is making you wet. At least he has the good sense to shut the water off before carrying you away. He’s thoughtful like that.

He drops you unceremoniously on the bed, the comforter now soaked as well thanks to your dripping wet body. Removing his shirt and tossing it aside, you get a moment to take in the view of Bucky Barnes looking at you like a man starved. He’s a beautiful canvas of muscles and scars, yet he looks at you like you're a real work of art. You wordlessly spread your legs and invite him to feast on what belongs to him. It would've been rude to keep him from his meal and you weren't cruel.

Not to mention no past lover can ever live up to how Bucky Barnes eats pussy.

He drops to his knees and pushes your legs open more, licking his lips as gazes at your twitching hole on display. He brushes some of the hair from his face to get a better look, and it only makes him look more wild. Untamed. It doesn't take much for him to arouse you, but the way he growls at the sight of you has you feeling like a goddess. You’re on your back, but he’s on his knees ready to worship and you’ll gladly accept his offerings. However he chooses to give them to you.

“I know you’re starving, Bucky. So eat,” you finally tell him, wanting him to have his fill. Whatever puts him in this mood, you’ll go along for the ride.

But before he dips down to feast, he moves up your body like a sleek cat and fastens his mouth to yours. He won't take from you without at least one kiss. You moan low as you kiss him back and feel him grind against you. It surprises you that he still has his pants on, but he’s getting rid of them soon enough.

You can't help but touch one of the scars near his shoulder, making him gasp into your mouth. He’s so strong. So powerful. Life dragged him through hell and he didn't escape unscathed, but he survived.

“Mine,” he murmurs so softly you almost miss it as he kisses down your body. Every kiss is a reminder of who you belong to. You’ll always be his.

“Yours,” you gasp when his nose nudges your clit and he inhales deeply. You remember when the smell of your arousal used to embarrass you, and now you wonder why it ever bothered you since he loves it so much. His metal fingers part your folds and he drags his tongue along your slit with a hum, lapping up your wetness. “Fuck…” you whimper, bringing a hand up to play with your breast.

“Not yet,” he growls, pushing his tongue deep inside.

Your free hand flies to his head and you choke on a moan as you clench around him. If he was speaking more, he’d tell you how beautifully bittersweet you taste, how your pussy is made for him, how desperate you are for him to fuck you with his cock, how you're all he needs. A mix of praise, profanity, filth, and love. Hearing him growl and grunt as he feasts tells you more than enough.

“So good,” he grunts between licks, his flesh hand digging into your shaking thigh when he slips two metal fingers in. You recall gushing all over the metal the first time he made his arm vibrate. He likes having the scent of your arousal on the metal, almost as much as he likes having it on the fingers of his right hand.

You lift your head when you hear shuffling on the bed, your eyes wide when you see his hips rise and dip. You’re all too familiar with that motion. “Bucky… are you…”

“Pussy’s so fucking good. I can't… I can’t stop,” he groans, rolling his hips like he can't stop himself from humping the bed because of how good you taste. “‘m so fucking hard for you.”

Your man’s cock can be sensitive some days. Grinding against him can make him get off in his pants. You went down on him once and just the feeling of your breath against his shaft had him shooting off before you wrapped your mouth around him. And with his rebound rate, you never have to worry if he gets off before you because he’ll still take care of you.

“That’s so hot,” you admit, your mouth falling open when he moves his fingers and tongue in time with his hips. “It’s okay, big boy. Make a mess in your pants for me,” you beg, wanting him to get off to you.

His growl has a bit of a whine to it when he looks up at you, his lips and chin glistening. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you smile, your fingers carding through his hair again. You don't want him to feel embarrassed.

He looks relieved. “Then make a mess on my face first,” he demands, dipping his head back down and making quick work of building your orgasm back up.

Pulling your hips down to meet his mouth, it isn't long before your orgasm tears through you. Your head nearly falls back as the tidal waves crash over you, but you keep it elevated enough to catch the stutter in his hips and the telltale husky moan against your sensitive hole. It almost triggers another orgasm watching him rut before he slumps against the bed like you.

Your head spins. Your heart pounds. And you smile. Bucky Barnes just came in his pants because you came. Yeah, you feel like a goddess and then some.

“You came in your pants for me,” you breathe. “That’s love.”

Your smile only widens when he pulls his mouth and fingers away to unbuckle his pants, your walls clenching when takes himself out. He’s large and thick as he strokes himself, and you can also see a bit of the evidence of him finishing in his pants. It gets you hot all over again, and now you need to make a mess around his cock while he finishes inside you. It’ll satisfy you both.

“Yeah, that is love,” he groans, brushing his thumb over the weeping tip. He still has a bit of the feral look in his eyes. “Now I need to fuck you with my cock at least twice before I eat again.”

Yeah, you’re in for a long and fun weekend.

I need him, okay? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[mariasont]

Early seasons Spencer’s gf joining the team and quickly realizing just how used to Spencer she is bc the rest of the team’s reactions to him are so different from hers

Cinnamon Sticks - S.R

a/n: obsessed with the idea of baby spencie having a gf who just gets him while he's still an awkward, nerdy little genius! thanks for requesting bestie so sorry it took so long i am the worst LOL

masterlist

pairings: early!seasons!spencer reid x fem!reader

warnings: established relationship, secret relationship, relationship being exposed bc these two are just so in love

wc: 1.7k

Garcia burst into the bullpen like some sort of whirlwind that was painted in neon, her scarf fluttering behind her almost like a cape. She juggled a precariously full cup of coffee, while her phone teetered between ear and shoulder as if testing the limits of human dexterity.

"I swear to all that is holy, if my life doesn't slow down in the next five minutes--"

The sentence derailed as she misjudged her pace, the coffee sloshing dangerously close to the rim of the cup. She stopped abruptly, her arms a flurry of motion, but not quick enough to stop the scalding liquid from spilling over and searing her fingers.

"Oh, fantastic! Just what I needed!" she huffed, waving her hand like it might stop the sting.

She threw herself into the closest chair with a huff, slumping back and fixing the coffee cup with a murderous glare, like this was just another tally in a long line of grievances.

Your eyes darted up from your work, only for a moment, enough to confirm what you already knew. You hadn't been working here long, but it was long enough to recognize the phenomenon that was Garcia: a blur of motion and words, mid-rant before anyone had the chance to catch up. It was like clockwork really.

You risked a glance across the desk at Spencer, who was so absorbed in his notebook it was a wonder he even remembered to breathe. If Garcia's antics registered as white noise to anyone, it was him. But then, almost like he had a radar for being watched, he looked up, catching your gaze.

His eyebrows lifted into a subtle what can you do? expression, and you couldn't help but smile back.

That was the thing about Spencer. He had this uncanny knack for knowing exactly what you were thinking, almost as if he had a cheat sheet for your brain. And maybe he did--like his brain worked three times faster than everyone else's in the room (which, let's face it, it definitely did). But instead of that being intimidating, it was oddly reassuring.

"At this rate, I'm one bad email away from alphabetizing my entire pantry for stress relief."

Spencer's notebook hit the desk, and there it was--the shift. His shoulders drew back, face lighting up--the kind of thing that signaled his mini-lecture was incoming.

"Organizing your pantry is actually a practical stress management technique. By categorizing items, you create a structured environment that reduces decision fatigue. Its why people feel calmer in tidy spaces, it's psychological."

Morgan held up a hand. "Psychological, huh? Sounds like you’re just trying to justify your weird love affair with labels, pretty boy.”

“Don’t forget,” you added absently, flipping a page in your report, “it also saves time when you’re cooking. I think you called it practical efficiency."

The words slipped out without much thought, but as soon as they did, the bullpen stilled. You glanced up, heart sinking as you saw every face turned in your direction.

Morgan’s grin was the first thing you notice--wide and knowing, stretching across his face. He tilted his head, eyes bouncing between you and Spencer like he was putting pieces together in real time.

“Wait a minute,” he said, sitting forward with a gleam in his eye. “Did you just quote him? Like, word for word?”

Your cheeks heated instantly. “What? No. I mean—maybe. I don’t know.”

“Pretty sure you did,” Morgan shot back, smirking. “Man, what else has he been teaching you? You got the periodic table memorized too?”

You rolled your eyes, leaning back in your chair. “Oh, please. If you’ve been around Spencer long enough, you’re bound to pick up a few things. He’s like a walking encyclopedia.”

“Well,” Spencer said, his head tilting slightly as he spoke, “your cinnamon sticks always end up at the back of your pantry. That’s why I figured you might appreciate the idea of organizing by use frequency. Like I said, practical efficiency.”

The moment the words left his mouth, you knew he’d made a tactical error.

Garcia gasped, her eyes lighting up like she’d just been handed the juiciest piece of gossip of her life. 

“Oh. My. God. Spencer Reid, how exactly do you know what the back of her pantry looks like?”

You froze, rooted to the spot as the realization hit you like a cartoon anvil. This was bad.

Spencer’s expression mirrored yours for half a second—wide-eyed panic—but he quickly scrambled for an answer. 

“It’s, um… a logical assumption,” he stammered, his fingers toying with the pen in his hand, a nervous tell he couldn’t quite suppress. “Spices like cinnamon sticks always seem to migrate to the back of the pantry unless there’s an intentional system in place.”

Morgan let out a long, low whistle, rocking back in his chair with enough force to make it creak. His grin was insufferably smug, the kind that practically begged for something to be thrown at him. 

“Nice save. But I don’t think Garcia’s buying it.”

Garcia tapped her chin, clearly enjoying herself far too much. “Oh, no, no, no. This is too good. I mean, logical assumption my fabulous behind! Cinnamon sticks in the back of her pantry? Really? What’s next? A detailed analysis of how she stacks her cereal boxes?”

You laughed, though it sounded more like a bark than anything natural. “You’re all reading way too much into this. Spencer just knows weirdly specific things about, well, everything. That’s kind of his thing, remember?”

“Mmhmm,” Garcia hummed, clearly unconvinced. “Alright, genius, I’ll let it slide this time. But I’m watching you.”

“Please don’t,” Spencer muttered under his breath, earning a round of laughter from the team.

Garcia spent a solid ten minutes in full interrogation mode after that, her eyes narrowing with each and every pointed question she lobbed your way. Morgan, of course, was no help. He leaned back, grinning like a kid with a front-row seat to the circus, his smirk practically screaming that he knew they were this close to striking a nerve.

Spencer and you had been so careful. You'd been dating long before you joined the BAU, but the moment Hotch had called to offer you the position, you both knew you'd have to keep things under wraps. Dating a coworker was one thing; dating Spencer Reid, a genius with an accidentally too-honest mouth, was an entirely different challenge.

You hadn't expected it to be this hard, though. Keeping the secret wasn't the worst part--it was pretending he wasn't the center of your universe every time you walked into the room. It was keeping your hands to yourself when all you wanted to do was smooth out the messy strands of hair that always fell into his eyes. It was biting your tongue when someone interrupted his long-winded tangents because the truth was, you loved hearing him talk.

The hours stretched on, and the bullpen slowly thinned out. Garcia was the first to leave, blowing a kiss to the room. Morgan left soon after, pausing to flash you one last grin before disappearing. Even Prentiss packed up for the night, muttering something about needed an extra shot of espresso tomorrow morning.

"You handled that well."

You looked up from your report to find Spencer by your desk, one hand tucked into his pocket, the other skimming lightly along the edge of the divider. His expression was surprisingly soft, almost bashful, as though he had been waiting to get you alone.

"Handled that well?" you repeated, raising an eyebrow. "You were the one who almost blew it, Spencer. Cinnamon sticks? Really?"

He smiled, lips twitching upward as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "Okay, I'll admit that wasn't my most subtle moment. But in my defense, they do end up at the back of most pantries."

You couldn't help but laugh, shaking your head as you leaned back in your chair. 

"We're lucky Garcia got distracted. If she'd pushed any harder..." Your voice drifted into a soft sigh. "That could've been bad."

"That was a close one."

The quiet that followed wasn't uncomfortable, but it felt a little more substantial, if that was the word, filled with that soft ache that always bloomed in your chest when he was near. 

Spencer stepped closer, his hand brushing against the edge of your desk. His body angled toward you, like even when you weren’t touching, he couldn’t help but gravitate toward you.

“You know,” he said, his voice softer now, “I don’t think she actually suspects anything. But we should probably be more careful.”

"Probably," you replied, drawing out the word in a teasing, sing-song tone. “Unless you’d rather keep showing off how ridiculously well you know me.”

His cheeks flushed a soft pink, but he didn’t look away. Instead, that shy, boyish smile—the one that always made you a little breathless—spread across his lips.

"That's going to be hard," he admitted, voice barely above a whisper. "I noticed a lot about you."

The words hit you like they always did--soft enough, but with the force of a thousand butterflies taking flight in your chest. You could feel the flush creeping up to your neck, and you mentally cursed him for how easily he was able to do this to you.

"You're lucky I like you."

His smile widened, and his eyes crinkled at the corners in that way they only came out at specific moments. Like when he successfully performed a card trick for the team or when he stumbled across an original copy of a book at a library sale. 

The same one you'd seen when he talked about his mom on her good days, or when you asked him on a date. 

You leaned forward. "And since I like you, any chance you'd want to kiss me right now?"

"How could I not, with you looking at me like that?"

The angle was clumsy--your chair too low, his frame leaning awkwardly over--but all of that melted away the second his hands found your face. His thumbs brushed soft circles against the place where your cheek met your jaw.

His lips were soft against yours at first, testing, before growing firmer, more sure. The kind of confidence that came with a hundred familiar kisses before. 

Time seemed to slow, or at least for you it did, the rest of the world nonexistent.

The sound of a throat clearing broke the spell, and you jerked back from Spencer, your chair wobbling slightly as you turned toward the sound. You immediately regretted it--your lips felt swollen, your face hot, and there was Prentiss, leaning against the doorframe.

"We were... uh, testing something," you blurted, avidly avoiding eye contact. "You know, like... oxygen exchange! For scientific purposes."

Spencer blinked, then mumbled, "Oxygen exchange? That's the best you got?"

"Shut it," you hissed through gritted teeth, not daring to look at him.

Prentiss arched a brow. "Relax, lovebirds. If this is your idea of scientific research, I'll make sure Garcia doesn't find out. You're welcome."

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