#so bones is just giving us more content for no reason like always :)

[sleep-0-deprived]

Feels like sugar in me~ (Dom Yandere manager x model male reader) ૮꒰っ˕‹̥̥̥ ꒱ა

WC:. 2.5k

Tags: power abuse, ass eating, voyuer, humiliation, gaslighting/ manipulation, older man-younger man (character is referenced in his mid forties and reader in his twenties) dark content, slight dub con, dacryphilia <33

A/N: my posting schedule has been all wonky the past month! But I hope you guys enjoy and as promised @blond3ang3l ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა

Everybody knew that modeling was a cruel line of work, your father told you so ever since you were just a little boy prancing around your bedroom.

Most male models didn’t last more than a month in the industry, you understood exactly why once you started putting yourself out there. Applying to all the big name brand you could never dream to be taken in by but you wanted to atleast try!

Here you were, halfway across the U.S trying to pursue your own little American dream and how else would you do that if not by working in some rundown diner by your apartment. Well that was until you met Him, tall and undoubtedly handsome with black hair having grey streaks through the sides with a small little beard of mostly white hairs, his name hung infamous to anybody who ever wanted to be a somebody, Dean Carter was his name.

You didn’t know him too well, just a local man who liked the diner you worked at for some reason you always thought. But he’d smile at you a little too long or tip you a little too much with his age showing at every glance he handed you. Creases in the corners of his eyes and lips crinkling up in delight when he watched how your hips swayed in your apron working the floor having him in awe. He had to have you—he absolutely needed you.

He’d simply slip you his business card just trying to swoon you under his wing like any big dreaming boy, whispering honeyed promises of fame and being a star on the runway to you anytime you would doubt him. Your fate was sealed the moment he wanted you, he was a man of greed and power and he wanted you in his pocket like a caged bird.

Here you were, eight months later from meeting dean, a photo shoot just being finished by you but you were far from happy. How could you possibly be happy when all you were seen as was the pretty boy who slept his way to fame, and the worst part of it all was the fact they weren’t wrong and all you could do is sit in your designated seat in your dressing room feeling the cold hand clasping your cheek “don’t listen to them baby, you’re just so much more than a pretty face and you know it”

Dean leans down kneeling on his knees with his chin resting on your shoulder blade holding your chin making you look at the mirror straight ahead of you. “Sh-sh doll don’t pout, you’ll ruin your makeup” his lips press to the back of your ear as his hands grip the sides of your seat turning you facing him.

“Not right now dean..” you whimper out silently feeling the hotness in your eyes bubbling up with tears that threaten to peak. “Don’t be that way baby doll, let me make it all better, you know I just wanna help” his voice softens so much your heart wants to believe it’s all real but atlas, you knew so better and yet you still fell.

“Not tonight dean, I don’t feel like it” you sniffle put rubbing your face feeling your warm cheeks under your palms while his hands slip down massaging your thighs in the slacks you were modeling. His thumbs tracing up slowly to your zipper giving it a little tug, you already knew what he was getting at and you couldn’t bring yourself to stop him.

“Hush darlin, it’ll all feel alright so soon” a elicit purr fell from his thin lips when he stops after opening up the top of your pants leaving them hanging up on your hips, his hands slipping up to your hip bone and grabbing it gently lifting you up out of the chair and getting you on the counter of your dressing room while his hands guide your thighs apart.

“People will hear us dean” you hush out and tilt your head back looking upwards at him trying your hardest to not let your emotions win tonight. “Well then they’d be lucky, you’re my little show-boy aren’t you [name]? Always strutting down that runway”

Dean’s hands slide up your sides gripping your boxers and the waistband of your bottoms and slid them off down your thighs with ease leaving you in your white socks and the designer shirt, having not made it to putting on the shoes yet.

“O-h shit—“ you go slack in the face with your jaw hanging pinching your brows together when his face shoves between your thighs and nuzzles his way between your cheeks having you spread wide arching your back and holding the marble counter top.

“Taste’s so sweet doll, like sugar on mh tongue” his voice deepens rolling his own eyes back into his skull leaving red irritation marks on your ass cheeks from his stubble while he groans against your hole before lapping his tongue out from his mouth giving a long lick going down your crack leaving your balls neglected while your cock stands half hard.

“Dean, they’re gonna hear us~” you can’t help anymore, you slowly crumble on the counter, reaching your hands back and placing them over your mouth trying to hide how you were crying like a little boy and leaning back against the dressing room mirror internally praying that none of the brand executives made it to your room to see you in all your glory hitching your leg up on the older males shoulder and letting him devour you like a helpless lamb.

Deans tongue presses flat to your rim and keeps rubbing against it before his lips press against your hole sucking at it and gripping your thighs tighter looking up at you the whole time wanting to kiss away your tears.

“My baby boy is such a pretty cryer” he hums in a sickeningly sweet tone coating your rim in a glossy layer of his spit making heat build inside your stomach leaving your cock now fully erect pressing it’s way to your belly button.

“I’m not gonna- I can’t handle it!” A sharp gasp falls from your lips feeling like you’re being torn apart by the man between your thighs. His fingers moving off your thighs only leaving his right hand on your knee trying to keep your thighs from fully closing around his hand while he takes his fingers and snakes his way between your cheeks, letting us index finger prod open the walls whilst he keeps flicking his tongue in sync to his fingers.

“You wanna be a star right doll? Let me make you the brightest one” the movement doesn’t slow or waver leaving your lips trembling against your palm understanding his inward promise, the one he’s told you a thousand times over.

“Close dean” you sloppily slur and cry out feeling your hand slipping from hour mouth when his finger works its way against your prostate having the world around you turn white in a buzz and your cock glaze over with a pearl of semen leaking down the sides of your base making your body clamp up ready for the wave of release to wash over you only to have him pull away from your ass leaving your leg sliding off his shoulder when he stands back up.

“I want you to reach your orgasm from my cock, not my mouth baby doll” his words wash over you when he wipes his hands off and starts undoing his belt leaving his slacks undone while he opens up his fly, the grey waistband reading ‘Calvin Klein’ exposes itself to you before he pulls out his cock showing him already stiff from eating you out.

“Look at the mess you made baby, you’ve got my face utterly filthy” stepping between your thighs keeping them spread open while he presses his face into the side of your neck with your legs slowly lifting up to his hips, “the staff will hear us, I don’t want them to know dean” your hand finds its way into his hair and pulls at it, not even bothering to hide the hot tears streaming down your face.

He reaches his hand off your hip, still holding it tight with his other hand while he holds your chin firm and lifts his head from the crook of your neck pressing hot kisses to your damp cheeks. Dean’s cock presses its way between your slick cheeks letting his cock-head rub and make contact with your rim almost daring to push inside you but not doing so yet.

“Don’t worry baby, I’ve got’cha” his words linger muffled and half audible between his lust filled haze and the wet kisses he left across your skin. Your thighs stay parted up on his hips with your eyes looking up at him feeling humiliated in ways beyond words, unable to stare in the mirror behind you, unable to face what you’ve let him break you into.

“Just push in dean” your sniffles fall on deaf ears but he just smiles down at you and takes his lips off your cheeks placing them on your neck while letting your chin out of his clasp making your ruined face fall forwards on his shoulder when he slips his hands back to your hips guiding you down on his cock. “That’s a good boy, my sweet little angel” he talks you through it making your rim ease up when he sinks into you leaving you feeling every vein of his shaft when it pierces you.

“Sh-sh-sh don’t cry, baby. If you stay nice and quiet I’m sure they won’t hear” his words do very little in terms of easing you. Your neck tilts back looking up at the ceiling and staring through blurred leans as you reach your hands off the counter edges and dig your nails into the back of his tailored suit, leaving lighter colored marks on the fabric while the sound of hushed moans and skin filled up the dressing room.

Dean continued to roll his hips and make out with your neck, butting and sucking on every inch moaning into the skin, not bothering to stop your tears “you’re so pretty when you cry like that Y’know angel”

his voice was far to sweet for the ways he was ravaging your body. His cock pressed up against your prostate with every deep stroke he gave, your cock weeped against your stomach the whole time he held your hips flush against him while working between your legs, making sure his cock rubbed and violated every inch of your cavern.

Dean held your hips tight, softly massaging them and rutting his hips fucking you up against the counter with his canines dragging alongside of your neck so soft you felt like you were on cloud nine and yet you wanted to puke. You’ve never felt so beautiful yet so dirty until you were with him.

You finally look down from the ceiling with a sharp gasp “o-oh Dean-“ your eyes zoom out until they see the dressing room door peaking open, then it’s like bells and gears in your head start churning with your toes curled close to cumming. “Don’t even pay attention to it doll” Dean smooths you or at least he try’s to sooth you but fails, you just shove your face into his shoulder moaning and wailing to yourself when you realize there’s someone entering the room.

“Are you almost ready [nam—“ low and behold the door opened wide standing in the doorway was one of the stage managers for your upcoming shoot today, he stood jaw slacked the clipboard nearly falling from his hand staring at you watching how Dean didn’t bother stopping making the tears flow faster when you look up from dean’s shoulder having your eyes meet.

“Scram, boy. [name] is busy right now” Dean’s voice hardens tilting his head back out of your neck with drool smeared on his chin from a the kissing he was doing to your neck. He doesn’t bother to stop your coupling session but instead shoo’s off the other man. Oliver the stage manager scrambles to leave quickly, not wanting to be in the middle of the situation any longer but you knew him.

You knew within ten minutes the whole brand- better yet label. Would know your secret and that alone made your face go red with shame. “I’m close~ let-me come please?” You plead with Dean knowing that you needed your high, you needed the adrenaline that brought you to heaven before throwing yourself back down to sadness like always.

“Come for me darlin, just let go” Dean croons to you holding you up on the counter steadily thrusting into you already starting to leak more pre cum inside you. Your dressing room door still open wide leaving anyone able to see you being ruined by your manager if they just walked down the hall. Your cock starts to spasm and bob upwards jerking on its own about to cum as your legs wrap tighter around his hips, gripping his back and curling your toes tight arching.

Your walls clamped tight around his manhood when you finally hit your peak feeling rope after rope speed from the pudgy cock head when you orgasm. Dean pulls out of you and comes all over your thighs, holding you tight and panting when his cock throbs and releases its load all over your thighs in a thin and runny mess while you sit panting and truth to wipe away your tears before you can even look back at Dean.

“You did great, so great doll” he murmurs his words leaning down kissing your cheek and wiping your eyes leaving you sitting on your dressing room counter all splayed and ruined with cum coating your skin and runny mascara flowing down your cheeks as you watch Dean remove his hands off you and start fixing up his pants, wiping his cock off before putting it back inside his own boxers.

“I’m sorry I have to run honey, I need to straighten things out and I have an appointment with the magazine executives for your next shoot” with one last kiss on your cheek and an infatuatedly pleased smile when he looks down and sees your thighs coated in his cum, a small peck is forced on your lips before you watch him leave as he always did once he was finished.

Sitting alone in your dressing room, still up on the counter with the door now shut feeling the sadness wash over you from the after effects of your orgasm leaving your rubbing your eyes having to get up and get cleaned “I have to learn to stop crying, I swear” you whisper aloud to yourself walking around the dressing room just cleaning yourself off with a complementary rag and looking at your disheveled appearance in the mirror making you sight, after all how could you not? This same scene replayed day after day with Dean and you knew it would continue to.

[pa1nrema1ns]

Opiate² || Sung Jin-woo (18+ One-shot)

Featuring: Yandere!Priest Sung Jin-woo x Fem!reader

If you want to get your soul to heaven Trust in me now, don't you judge or question You are broken now, but faith can heal you Just do everything I tell you to do

Summary:

“What you feel in your heart, the yearning you have for this man, it’s only to be expected. You are flesh and blood, malleable and weak to temptation. As am I… If you would indulge me, may I ask who it is that you covet so deeply?" “He—he is a man of faith,” you stutter, “someone I should have no business thinking about.” Father Jin-woo’s reply is sharp enough to cut bone: “But you still want him all the same, don’t you? This forbidden fruit of yours?”

♱ Word count: 5.8k

♱ A/N: It's finally here! My first, full-fledged smut fic, and I am beyond excited to share it with you all! Once again, I want to thank the incredible @ekkurea. She completely knocked it out of the park with her drop-dead gorgeous rendition of Father Jin-woo. She is an amazing artist and an absolute joy to work with. I highly recommend visiting her gallery and commissioning her.

I also want to thank my lovely friend and beta-reader @heyimkana for brainstorming ideas and offering encouragement during the writing process of this piece. Her help and insight has been invaluable, and I am extremely grateful for her support.

♱ Content warnings: 18+ mdni, smut, piv, body worship (giving and receiving), canon compliant AU (hunters and gates exist; Jin-woo is a retired hunter), afab!reader, dirty talk, religious themes and imagery, blasphemy, sacrilege, manipulation, possessiveness, voyeurism, gratuitous praise, pet names, softdom!Jin-woo.

♱ Dividers by: @firefly-graphics and @anitalenia

♱ Header artwork by: @ekkurea exclusively for this fic. Please do not repost, edit, or use for your own fics, headcanons, or drabbles.

Your heart hammers inside your chest as you gaze at the confessional booth. A cursory glance at your surroundings reveals no other churchgoers inside the cathedral. Apart from a lone priest hidden behind the lattice, you were the only sign of life in this house of God.

An eerie silence floods the communal hall, worsening your anxiety. You release a shaky breath and wring your fists in consternation, too nervous to move from your spot in the pews.

Given your circumstances, you’re unsure if you should consider the lack of an audience a blessing or a curse. The foreboding atmosphere inside the church makes the latter seem more fitting, and for the first time since joining the parish, you find yourself feeling unwelcome and isolated here.

As if you were an outcast.

You clench your teeth at the thought.

In all your years of being a loyal parishioner, you hadn’t once sought penance. And up until this point, you didn’t have a reason to. You were a highly pious individual, regularly attending Mass, participating in the holy sacraments, and devoting all your free time to liturgical services. Of course, you weren’t always so virtuous. You had your vices, as all people do, but you remained steadfast on the path of righteousness. You had done everything in your power to live a life free from sin.

But the devil never sleeps, and evil lurks in the hearts of men.

Despite your best efforts, you were seduced into partaking of the forbidden fruit, and from the tree of knowledge, you ate. Now a blight has been cast on you, an affliction so devastating in its destructiveness that it left you teetering on the cusp of madness. Sin crept its way into your life, and it was slowly rotting you from the inside out.

Wickedness and temptation manifest in many ways depending on the person. For some, it’s hedonistic pleasures like promiscuity, excessive drinking, or gambling. For others, it’s immoral acts such as violence, theft, or murder.

For you, sin came in the form of a man.

Father Jin-woo stood out among the rest of the clergy. Young, roguishly handsome, and captivating in all measures, he attracted a considerable amount of attention from the parish. What’s more, the enigmatic priest proved to be a highly capable shepherd to his flock. In fact, he was held in such high regard within the church that many of Jin-woo’s followers attended his sermons just to catch a glimpse of him. The man was simply mesmerizing, both in aura and appearance.

Rumors abound about him being a former hunter, and if word of mouth is to be believed, he had been a damn incredible one. Why Jin-woo chose to abandon glory and riches beyond all reckoning for a humble life of the cloth, you did not know. To your fellow parishioners, it was a noble and benevolent decision.

But his aloof demeanor gave you pause. The man seemed to keep everyone at arm’s length, and then there were his eyes, so unlike anything you’d ever seen before.

You noticed right away that Jin-woo always had a coldness to his eyes, even while proclaiming the word of God. It was a truly menacing stare, one that burned white hot with the promise of brimstone and hellfire.

Yet it wasn’t fear or adoration that struck your heart when you first witnessed this side of him.

It was pure and unbridled lust. An animalistic desire to be so thoroughly ruined, so thoroughly fucked by Jin-woo that not even the deepest dregs of Hell would have you.

You remember the rush of heat curling low and heavy in your stomach as you watched him give Mass the other day. You swiped your tongue across your lips as you imagined mouthing at the smooth expanse of his neck. You’d leave little love marks on the sensitive skin just above his clerical collar, making it impossible for him to hide.

When the priest raised his arms in supplication, his muscles pulled taut against the sleeves of his cassock, causing your breath to catch in your throat. That single action triggered a domino effect on you. Your panties began to dampen, your heart rate skyrocketed, and your clit pulsed for attention. You pressed your thighs together, attempting to quell the ache between them, but the small amount of friction it produced just wasn’t enough; you needed more. You needed Jin-woo’s fingers to be knuckle-deep inside your tight, wet cunt.

You bit back a moan and tried to ignore your arousal, hoping it would just go away on its own. But it was no use; every aspect of the priest bewitched you in that moment. His calm composure, the hard ridges of his body, and his quiet self-assurance all spoke of virility.

Ultimately, it was his piercing gaze that sealed your fall from grace. During the Penitential Act, you locked eyes with Jin-woo. There was such a smoldering, sexual intensity in the way he looked at you that it bordered on being indecent. You trembled under his stare, and for a fraction of a second, you saw the hint of a smirk upon his lips before he turned his focus elsewhere.

After that, your fantasies ran wild and unimpeded, your mind full to bursting with pornographic prose. You thought of Jin-woo pinning your knees to your chest as he pounded into your pussy until it molded to the shape of him. He’d bend you to his will, forcing every ounce of pleasure out of your pliant body while your ankles dangled helplessly from his broad shoulders like earrings.

Next, you fantasized about him eating you out like a starved beast as you writhed and moaned like a whore on the altar. The other clergymen would watch on in envy as they stroked their plump and leaking cocks, wishing they could also get a taste of your dripping pussy.

You idly wondered if Jin-woo would make you cum with slow, purposeful licks or if he would ruthlessly tongue fuck you, sucking and flicking at your sensitive little clit until you were a wailing mess.

Eventually these lust-fueled thoughts became too much to bear; slick coated your thighs, and the fire in your loins was blazing into an all-out inferno. You ended up sneaking out of Mass midway through the scripture readings to slake your thirst.

You took refuge in an unoccupied sacristy and slid your soaked panties to the side. Your cunt was positively throbbing with want; it was frightening just how aroused you were. But fear wasn’t about to stop you from making yourself cum.

You circled your clit and slowly pumped two fingers in and out of your sopping core, curling the digits against a spot that caused you to let out a small whimper as you sought more stimulation. The priest’s face was on your mind and his name on your lips when you came with a hushed moan.

The entire time, you were oblivious to the silent specter watching you from the shadows.

When you returned, there was something decidedly wrong with Jin-woo. His forehead was dotted with sweat, he had a white-knuckled hold on the podium, and he’d bitten his lip so hard blood ran down his chin. A few of the parishioners voiced their concerns, worried he might’ve taken ill, but he waved them off, wiping his mouth and continuing his oration as if nothing had happened.

You felt the priest’s eyes boring into you as you took your seat, and you ended up avoiding his gaze for the rest of the sermon.

At that time, an irrational part of you feared that Jin-woo knew what you did in the sacristy. But he couldn't have heard you through the thick walls of the cathedral… could he? No, there was no way. He was probably just pissed at you for disrupting his service; you’d have to apologize the next time you saw him.

That night, you prayed to the Almighty for forgiveness, but no amount of Hail Marys would be enough to rid you of the guilt and shame you felt. You needed absolution, an act of mercy that only an ordained priest could grant you.

You don’t know whether to cry or laugh at the irony of it all. Fate had a really fucked-up sense of humor, didn’t it?

And this brought you to where you are now, a penitent seeking salvation.

After several minutes of self-reflection, you strengthen your resolve and finally stand up from the pews; it was now or never. You approach the booth and make the sign of the cross prior to entering.

You cross yourself once more as you kneel behind the screen. All is silent, save for the steady breathing of the unseen priest. You swallow nervously before greeting him, “Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. This is my first confession.”

A deep and familiar voice responds wholeheartedly to your call.

“Peace be upon you and take heart. You show much bravery by coming here today. To seek penance is to acknowledge our own faults and misgivings. It is a vulnerable act, but the Lord is merciful and just. You’ve nothing to fear in his presence. Now, please tell me, what have you come to confess?”

Just your luck; it was Jin-woo. Fate definitely had it out for you.

You release a breath you’re not even aware you’ve been holding and begin to speak your truth.

“Father, for the last few months I’ve been overcome by sexual desire for… an acquaintance of mine. At first, I thought it was an innocent crush, but as time passes, I find myself becoming more and more obsessed with him… to the point where it scares me.”

You can feel your face growing hot as you speak; it makes you feel even smaller and more exposed in front of the priest. You keep your head firmly bowed, refusing to face him.

“I see, so these lustful thoughts and feelings are what trouble you?” he inquires, tone impartial.

“Yes, Father,” you answer sullenly.

“God sends us many in the way of trials and tribulations, both to test our faith and to build character. It is unfortunate that affliction often precedes deliverance, but only in suffering can we truly blossom and grow stronger.”

After a short pause, he continues, his voice dulcet now. “What you feel in your heart, the yearning you have for this man, it’s only to be expected. You are flesh and blood, malleable and weak to temptation. As am I… If you would indulge me, may I ask who it is that you covet so deeply?"

“He—he is a man of faith,” you stutter, “someone I should have no business thinking about.”

Jin-woo’s reply is sharp enough to cut bone: “But you still want him all the same, don’t you? This forbidden fruit of yours?”

You raise your head and direct your gaze at the screen, diffident. He continues, “Two days ago, I saw you departing from Mass quite suddenly. I grew concerned, of course; you’re always so engaged when it comes to receiving the message of God, so I found your actions to be highly out of character… Now, after listening to your plight, I can’t help but wonder if that unusual behavior has anything to do with what we’re discussing right now.”

‘Wait, what!?’ You think, internally panicking. ‘Did he know? Did Jin-woo actually know—’

“I recall one of the deacons pulling me to the side after service that day. He was blushing furiously; when I asked him what was wrong, he mentioned hearing a noise that sounded like a woman’s moans and whimpers coming from our sacristy. Strange, isn’t it?”

“…” Words fail you. From behind the lattice, the priest’s eyes shift from cobalt blue to a sinister shade of amethyst as he studies your face.

There’s an audible smirk in his voice when he next asks, “Does any of this ring a bell for you? And do be honest with me when you answer this time. You’ll find that I have a low tolerance for liars, sweet girl.”

Your heart plummets into the pit of your stomach. So, he knew. He fucking knew this whole time, and he played you like a fiddle. The writing was on the wall, and there was no use in playing coy with a man who saw straight through your bullshit.

“Yes… it does,” you answer in barely above a faltering whisper, “I was in that room when I should’ve been at Mass, and I—I was touching… myself.”

There’s only silence on the other side of the lattice. The lack of a response makes you feel an even deeper sense of embarrassment.

You frantically apologize to Jin-woo, hoping to make amends. “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry, Father! The sins I’ve committed behind these sacred walls are unforgivable, but I just couldn’t take it anymore! The person—the man I’ve been lusting over—is you!”

The priest inhales sharply, his first notable reaction since this debacle began.

“I lost control of myself as I watched you during your sermon; I couldn’t stop thinking about having your hands all over me!” you babble, “I left that day because I was so turned on by you; it was driving me insane! I hid in the sacristy and masturbated just so the hunger would go away…and I imagined some truly terrible things about you as I touched myself.”

When Jin-woo graces you with a response, his voice is husky, with an air of desperation in it. “Tell me what it is you thought of; reveal to me your darkest and most depraved impulses. And do not hold back. I won’t be able to cleanse your soul of sin unless I know the true depths of your debauchery.”

Your eyes widen, not so much from his request but from the wanton neediness in his voice. It awakens something inside you, something primal that rids you of all shame and inhibition.

“I’ve daydreamt of you fucking me in front of the clergy with my legs spread wide open on the altar.” you say, emboldened now, “I fantasized about sucking your cock and forcing so much pleasure on you that you forsake God, and I become the new deity you worship. I want to corrupt you in the same way the devil has corrupted me. There’s a sickness inside me, Father, and I don’t know how to stop it.”

You hear the faint rustling of clothes and a belt clinking. A moment later, a throaty groan escapes the priest, and the sound shoots straight to your core. You slip a hand beneath the sundress you’re wearing and run a finger along your slit, already wet with slick.

You didn’t care if he saw you this time. There was nothing left for you to hide.

“Meet me outside of the booth. Now.” Jin-woo abruptly demands, his terse tone brooking no argument. You heed his words without question, standing on coltish legs and walking with a slight tremor as you exit the confessional.

Jin-woo is in full view before you now, a licentious shell of his former self. Strands of hair stuck to his forehead haphazardly, sweat ran in rivulets down his face, and his fly was undone, exposing his hard and drooling cock.

You shamelessly drink him in. His cock was thick, thicker than you could’ve ever imagined, with prominent veins and a slight curve towards the tip that looked like it would hit you just right. His cockhead was also flushed a vibrant shade of red, and pearls of precum glistened at the glans. You wet your lips in anticipation, eager to get a taste of him. Jin-woo notices your ogling and gives himself a languid pump, once then twice, his gaze never leaving yours.

“Come to me,” he purrs, “Come so that I may bestow your penance.”

You take a step, but then he stops you with a second command.

“No, angel; I need you on your hands and knees. I want you to crawl to me like the lost little lamb that you are. Crawl for me, crawl for my cock.”

You sink to your knees and lower your hands to the ground, making sure to give the priest an ample view of your cleavage as you slink towards him on all fours. His expression is rhapsodic as he watches you, like a man who’s finally found purpose in his life.

“Look at you, look at how fucking gorgeous you are on your hands and knees. Such an obedient girl for me,” he coos at you with honeyed praise, cracks starting to show in his stoic façade.

Once you’re at his feet, Jin-woo quickly resumes his authoritative tone. “Give me your chin,” he orders. You obey, tilting your head back, and he grabs you firmly by the jaw, forcing you to look at him.

His eyes emit a luminous glow, reminding you of his status as an S-rank hunter. You’d all but forgotten this through the haze of your lust-addled mind, but you weren’t afraid of the priest’s change in attitude. In fact, you find his display of power invigorating.

He slowly caresses your cheek with his thumb and gravely states, “The devil has sunk his fangs into you, sweet girl, and he tempts you just as he tempts me, through our baser instincts. Your soul is tainted, but it’s not beyond salvation by my hands. Only by succumbing to your carnal desire for me can you achieve absolution. Knowing this, are you fully prepared to accept the penance you’ve earned?”

You try to nod your head, but he tightens his hold on you—not enough to hurt, just enough to let you know who’s in charge.

“Use your words, angel.”

“Yes, Father.”

A rakish smile spreads across his face, and he presses a chaste kiss to your head. “Good girl. Now, take my cock into that pretty little mouth of yours. Earlier you said that you would make me forsake God for pleasure. That was the devil speaking through you, no doubt. Let’s test this twisted conviction of his, shall we?”

He releases you and rises to his full height, glancing down expectantly. You immediately get to work, eager to satisfy him. You tug at the waistband of Jin-woo’s trousers, and he tilts his narrow hips to assist you. Once the pants are halfway down his thighs, you’re able to fully take him in. Not only was his dick intimidating in girth, but it was also long and even prettier up close.

There’s a potent headiness in the air that surrounds him, a distinctly masculine scent that you can’t help but crave more of. Unable to resist, you lean forward, bracing yourself against one of Jin-woo’s legs, and press your nose against the coarse hair at the base of his cock.

When he sees you smelling him, the priest lets out a soft chuckle that breaks into a moan when you begin to play with his balls. You gently fondle them, appreciating the weight and feel in your hand. With your other hand, you stroke his shaft, alternating between twisting and up-and-down motions. Jin-woo lets out a pleased grunt at your ministrations and rasps, “Hah…ahh… yeah, just like that, just like—oh!—oh, fuck!” The priest hisses as his cock is suddenly engulfed in the wet heat of your mouth.

You swallow around him, swirling your tongue on the underside of his shaft before pulling back to kitten-lick at his leaking cockhead. He tastes like salt and skin, and you dip your tongue into his slit to savor more of him. Once you’ve had your fill of his pre, you hollow your cheeks and sink your mouth further down his length. Jin-woo tosses his head back, eyes fluttering shut in ecstasy.

“Good girl—fuuuck!”

At this stage, your neglected pussy was wet and positively aching with need. Without stopping your ministrations, you sneak your other hand between the juncture of your thighs and slide a finger into your core. There’s absolutely no resistance, allowing you to effortlessly slip two more fingers in, up to the knuckle. This finally gives you the sense of fullness you’ve been longing for. Once satisfied with the stretch, you begin to massage your inner walls and grind your clit against the heel of your palm.

Your actions cause you to whine and moan around Jin-woo’s cock. He hums lowly, equal parts amused and aroused by your neediness.

“Mmm…are you touching that greedy cunt again? Heh, how cute... no—no, don't stop touching yourself, angel. I want you to get off too. I want you to make yourself cum with my cock in your throat and your fingers thrusting into that perfect pussy.” Praise intermingled with filth spews from his lips as he becomes lost in the feeling of your mouth. The priest promptly tightens his hold on your head and starts to buck his hips, face-fucking you at a brutal tempo.

The sudden intrusion causes your eyes to well, and you gag as you feel him hitting the back of your throat. You focus on breathing through your nose and attempt to relax your throat, a monumental task given how girthy and long the priest's dick was. Jin-woo takes note of your discomfort and stills his hips. You glance up at him through tears, and there's a softness in his features you'd never seen before. Unprompted, he loosens his hold on your head and cards his fingers through your hair, brushing the strands from your face. Next, he rubs the pads of his thumbs over your dampened cheeks. You melt into his touch and nuzzle against his hand.

After remaining like this for a few precious moments, Jin-woo begins to thrust again, this time at a much slower and less punishing pace. You allow him to guide your head down his shaft while you pump your fingers into your wet heat. A coil was sprung tight in your abdomen, and each swipe at your clit and scrape against your inner walls sends a thrum of pleasure throughout your body. The shockwaves to your impending orgasm were already set in stone; all you needed was that final push to send you toppling over the edge—

Without warning, you feel the presence of a large palm cupping your mons. It glides along your panties, tracing your pussy lips through the thin material. Before you can process what's happening, your underwear is tugged to the side and your fingers are pried from your cunt by an invisible force. Something much bigger replaces the digits. It fills you to the brim in one go, knocking the air out of your lungs. Your thighs shake when the appendage starts to undulate against your plush walls. Every twist and turn causes you to inhale sharply. The phantom's touch wanders aimlessly, with no set destination. Or so it seems, until you feel an intense burst of pressure on your sweetest spot.

You squeal at the sensation and lurch backward, a string of saliva lewdly trailing from your lips as you part from Jin-woo’s cock. You thrash wildly, trying with all your might to escape. It was just too much, too soon. But the priest effortlessly maintains his hold on you, and you can only watch in horror when several more tendrils of mana manifest from his hands.

The magic slithers across his forearms, down the floor, and between your thighs before disappearing into your exposed cunt. Using Ruler’s Hand, Jin-woo plays with the wetness that dances along your puffy folds. He then lifts the hood of your clit to lightly graze at the bud beneath it before pinching at the sensitive bundle of nerves. That was all it took to send you spiraling over the edge. Waves of white-hot pleasure rip through you so violently, your vision fades in and out. All the while, the telekinetic appendage steadily fucks you through it, reaching depths you'd never imagined.

Your body clenches, then slackens, in the aftershock of your orgasm. There’s buzzing in your ears, a white noise that temporarily deafens you. But through the static, you’re able to hear the faint sound of someone screaming. It doesn’t register as your own voice at first; it was raw, hoarse, and unrecognizable. Like the pale imitation of a changeling.

Time slows and distorts, and you feel yourself drifting, sinking further and further away from a state of consciousness.

But Jin-woo manages to reel you in, away from the darkness.

“—come back to me, angel. I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”

Choked moans and broken syllables are all you can muster in your blissed-out state, “Hnng—ahhh! Fa—Father! I… ha…ahn!”

“Shhh, it's alright." Jin-woo murmurs softly while stroking your cheek with his knuckles. He wraps his other hand around his pulsating cock and repeatedly runs his fist from the base to the tip, using a mixture of his own pre-cum and your drool as a lubricant. Above Jin-woo lay a large stained-glass mural of Saint Mary Magdalene. He's cast in iridescent rays of light as the setting sun illuminates the window, making him appear transcendent. The sight of him takes your breath away.

So enraptured were you with Jin-woo's beauty that you don't even realize he's lowered his hand from your face to your tits. He kneads at the supple flesh, admiring your softness. You mewl and arch into his touch, surrendering yourself to him. The priest then dips his hand into the décolletage of your dress and yanks it down, exposing your luscious breasts and the hardened peak of your nipples. Your core throbs at the strangled moan he lets out. “Oh fuck, you’re so soft, so warm,” he whispers shakily as he gropes at the plump mounds, “And the way the sun lights your skin, the enticing curves of your body, the quickening of your pulse as I take you in my hand… how? Just how can you be real? I’ve never wanted something—someone—so badly in my life.”

No sooner had the words left his mouth than the movements of Ruler’s Hand came to a complete halt. In an instant, all the telekinetic energy that surrounds your partially clad form dissipates. You’re not even spared the chance to gather your bearings before Jin-woo unceremoniously hauls you to your feet and presses his muscular frame to yours. He brings his face close, with only the narrowest of margins separating your lips from his. You can feel his breath in yours, the beating of vitality in his heart, and the rigid planes of clothed muscle against your bare breasts. You yearn for him to close the gap, to finally submit to the searing passion that consumed both of you.

Several agonizing seconds pass before Jin-woo pleads—begs, as the last of his restraint crumbles. “Please, please, let me have you—!” Unable to control himself, the priest captures your lips in a hungered kiss. You moan into his mouth and gasp when he slips his tongue inside to gently brush against your own. A low growl emits from the priest’s throat, and all semblance of rationality is lost.

Jin-woo delves his tongue further, deepening the kiss. You readily yield, wrapping your arms around his neck and leaning into him. Jin-woo grasps you by the throat possessively and allows his other hand to drift freely over your figure. He caresses the swell of your breasts with his calloused fingers, treading slowly over your pert nipples and leaving goosebumps in his wake. Next, he smooths his palm down your sternum and along your abdomen until he reaches the curve of your hip. The priest sinks his fingers into the pliable flesh, and with his lips never once leaving yours, he starts to walk you backward.

Jin-woo leads, and you follow; your submission to him nearly second nature by now. After a few stumbling steps, your back hits something hard, and the strange sensation causes you to break the kiss. Undeterred, the priest slides his hand from the front of your neck to your nape, and with the other hand he has on your hip, he uses his strength to hoist you onto a table—no—an altar. Jin-woo then lowers your upper body onto the platform, slots himself between your legs, and pulls the hem of your sundress up until the fabric bunches at your waist.

The breathless “oh fuck,” he mumbles at the sight of your bare cunt, has you clenching around thin air. The priest pants, and a sheen of sweat coats him as he pins you to the altar with his larger frame. He gazes at you with eyes glazed over before grabbing at his cock and running the tip of it along your slit. You bleat pathetically, and Jin-woo presses a feather-light kiss to the corner of your mouth to coddle you. He then slides his lips over yours, kissing you in earnest. When he parts, the priest murmurs imploringly, “I wanted to take my time with you, angel, really, I did. But if I go for another second without fucking you, I fear I might go insane. Tell me, are you sure you want this? This is your last chance to back out. I can’t guarantee I’ll be able to stop once I’m inside you.”

You answer without hesitation, “Yes! Oh god, yes—”

He cuts you off midsentence, sheathing himself entirely in your heat. Your eyes well up as he splits you apart on his cock. No matter how wet you were, nothing could’ve prepared you for the sheer breadth of Jin-woo’s dick. He stretched you far past your limits, filling you so completely that you swore you could feel him at the back of your throat.

Your thighs tremble and your head lulls to the side, baring your neck to him. The priest licks a fat stripe from your collar bone to the apple of your check, lapping up your salty tears. Your walls flutter and tighten at his actions, and he groans approvingly, pushing his cock in even deeper. Your thighs tremble and your face scrunches at the sting. Jin-woo hadn’t even moved yet, and you were already falling to pieces underneath him. You clutch onto his shoulders for purchase, digging your nails into the well-defined muscles. Jin-woo grunts and lowers his face into the crook of your neck to nose against it. You shudder when you feel his breath tickling your ear.

“You feel fucking divine, angel. So warm, wet, and inviting… I think I’ll keep you for myself once I’m done. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Oh—shit! Did you just clench? Sweet girl, if you keep doing that, then I really won’t hold back.” The priest emphasizes his warning with a nip to your throat, drawing a cry of surprise from you.

Using this momentary pain as a distraction, Jin-woo pulls out of you until only the tip remains and then rams his hips forward, spearing you on his dick. You babble and wail incoherently as he batters your bruised walls. True to his word, the priest was holding nothing back from you. He pistons his hips in and out at an unrelenting tempo and grinds his pelvis on your clit with every thrust he makes. Gradually, the soreness in your cunt gives way to pleasure. You wrap your legs around Jin-woo’s waist and dig your heels into the small of his back, anchoring him to you.

The sound of skin slapping against skin and cries of ecstasy permeate the room. Jin-woo thrusts desperately into you, his nostrils flaring and the veins in his forearms bulging from exertion. If the pulsing of his cock inside you was anything to go by, then he was close. Dangerously so. You weren’t far behind either; the priest was hitting all your spots, and the constant stimulation on your clit was maddening.

Jin-woo catches you totally unawares when he presses his forehead to yours. He peers into your eyes, looking intently into the depths, and then he speaks a secret meant only for you. “Allow me to make a confession of my own. There was no deacon wandering by the sacristy that day. It was me; I was the one who saw you in the throes of passion. And when I heard you moan my name—my actual name and not the title that binds me to the church—it took everything in me not to mount you right then and there! You have no idea what you do to me, sweet girl.”

“It’s not your fault. Nothing is your fault. I’m the one to blame, Angel, not you.” Jin-woo quickly silences the unspoken apology burning at the tip of your tongue. He could sense it coming from the hurt look in your eyes.

“As a hunter, I’ve dirtied my hands, stolen countless lives, and conquered lands unknown to man or God, all in the pursuit of power. I am tainted, bathed in sin. A disgrace to our lord and undeserving of someone as pure and as beautiful as you. But I don’t care what hell awaits me. All that matters is that you’re mine now. Mine—mine—only mine!” He snarls at the end, punctuating every word with a snap of his hips. Your breasts bounce, your thighs quiver, and your mouth forms a small ‘o’ under the influence of his ministrations. To Jin-woo, you were the spitting image of a fallen angel. You were also his undoing, as his thrusts became sloppy and more erratic. His hips stutter then cease all movement as he spills his seed inside you, cumming with a deep and guttural groan. You follow suit shortly thereafter, tossing your head back and screaming the priest’s name as you climax.

Jin-woo slumps forward, dipping his face into the valley of your breasts. You reach down to idly stroke at the ebony tresses. The two of you bask in each other’s presence as the afterglow washes over. You were boneless and utterly spent, but the exhaustion was well earned. Sex had never left you feeling so sated or fulfilled before. It was incredible… and tiring.

Your lids start to grow heavy, the promise of sleep too tempting to ignore. As your eyes flutter shut, you feel a strong pair of arms coiling around your waist and lifting you into a sitting position. Your body then becomes weightless, and footsteps echo in the background. Jin-woo must’ve been carrying you. ‘Such a kind man,’ you think.

When your breath evens out and you at last fall asleep, the priest pecks your forehead and peers up at the mural of Jesus Christ at the entrance of the cathedral. Jin-woo addresses the Son of God with a plea on your behalf.

“Forgive her, for she knows not what she does.”

[rinky-dinky-dink]

Star Sanses But There's More Of Them

Figured I would make a sort of master post for my Star Sanses interpretation! This is just an idea I'm playing around with, I don't plan on making a proper storyline for them at the moment. Just me exploring characters!

Long post ahead-

General:

All five members have star badges, per Blue's insistence ("So they look more like a team!" Ink liked the idea of them all sharing a design element, and Sugarplum thought the idea was fun, so Dream and Red were outvoted). The badges are equippable items to give each member a bit of a boost in combat (exact stats have yet to be decided).

Combat:

The five of them end up a pretty efficient team in fights, especially against Nightmare's Gang (plus Error sometimes). Even when Dream is occupied fully with Nightmare, and Ink's attention is on Error - Blue, Red, and Sugarplum manage to hold their own even as incodes. Combat roles (per the rules of DnD, for no real reason) are as follows:

Dream is the leader, he maintains party focus and morale, and generally decides the strategy going into a fight. His ability to sense the feelings of others allows him to monitor his teammates even during combat, so he can call for a retreat if necessary. (Switches to/also serves controller role, when needed.)

Ink is the group's striker, he's fast and he hits hard with precision, but it can be difficult for him to focus on more than one enemy at a time. Stays up close to the opponents, falls back behind the others on occasion to refill his paints or regain his bearings. (When fully necessary, he can use his brush to take broader strokes and serve as controller with color coded AoE attacks. Can serve as leader in extremely rare situations, but that's not nearly as fun, so he's content to let Dream do it.)

Blue is the defender, he's the tankiest of the group despite his shorter stature. He has the highest base defense of the group's three incodes, since he's essentially a Papyrus. Not much aggression in combat, preferring to help cover the others as they attack. (Can switch to striker role, if necessary.)

Red is the controller of the group, his bones and blasters let him cover a wide area from a safer distance. His stats still aren't great, so he hangs back from up close combat, and relies on Blue to help maintain the distance, especially when he gets tired and needs a bit of time to recover.

Sugarplum is also a controller, technically speaking. He focuses less on direct combat and more on effects, usually ACTing to lower an opponent's AT, DF, or speed. He also hangs back from direct fighting most of the time, and heals the others (mostly Blue) when their HP gets too low.

General Team Dynamics:

Dream: The leader of the group, as agreed by everyone else. He's friendly and easy to get along with, so he serves as a good "face" for the team. (Ink also thinks Dream having his own "gang" is a fun parallel to Nightmare!) Keeps the group on track when on missions, when the others' antics (affectionate) threaten to veer them off course. He's nervous about the responsibility this sort of role comes with, and whether or not his aura is skewing his teammates' evaluation of him as a leader, but he's determined to do his best.

Ink: Local menace. Bastard. Usually the cause/intigator of the team's distractions. Here to have a good time, occasionally at the expense of others. Sends cursed memes to the team groupchat at 3am. Luckily the others don't mind his sense of humor (Red thinks he's funny as hell sometimes), and Blue's general enthusiasm usually just serves as fuel to his fire. Will randomly give his teammates a thoughtful gift (a trinket he found somewhere that reminded him of them), and then steal food off their plate before they can say "thank you." Overall he's having a good time, and the others have just accepted this weird eldritch paint skeleton on their team.

Blue: Underswap Sans! As peppy as ever, always there to cheer on his friends and tell them he believes in them. Tends to get caught up in his own excitement sometimes, but means well! His ability to befriend even the more hostile residents of the multiverse makes him the glue of the team, keeping everyone together and on the same page even when Dream and Ink argue, or Red is a bit too abraisive. Since being exposed to the multiverse and joining the team, he's changed his focus from being a royal guard back home, to being a hero alongside his friends. There are people to be helped, and he's found the recognition he's always wanted but couldn't quite achieve back home. He's still technically a sentry back in Snowdin, and still has to return relatively frequently to keep the whole multiverse thing under wraps, but his brother helps cover for his absence. (Papyrus isn't super fond of the whole concept, especially not Ink, but he supports his brother 100%.)

Red: Underfell Sans! The designated grump of the group, he still hasn't really shaken off the defensive habits he learned from back home. The "tough guy" of the Stars, he's generally not a bad guy once you get past that wall he keeps up. Is steadily improving, unlearning a lifetime of defensiveness and distrust is difficult. (His jacket is heavy, and he would drop it over a teammate's shoulders in lieu of a weighted blanket if they needed it though. Just don't go spreading those kinds of rumors about him.) Has not told his brother about his multiverse-hopping escapades with the other Stars, partially out of worry that his universe will start bleeding out into more peaceful ones. He's dodging that particular conversation with everything he has.

Sugarplum: Underlust Sans! Doesn't really live in his own universe anymore, spends 99% of his time in the Omega Timeline. Doesn't like to talk about his universe, dodges any questions in relation to it (luckily in multiversal etiquette it's considered rude to ask questions about someone's universe, unless invited to do so). Didn't start out as much of a fighter, and still doesn't quite match up to the other Stars, but he can hold his own in a pinch. All the fighting and training and running around burns energy, which helps keep his soul from acting up. Wine aunt energy, always up to date on drama in the OT. Generally pretty chill, with an easygoing attitude that lets him help Blue smooth things over when conflicts arise in the team. Drinking buddies with Red, can relate to having a messed up universe he'd rather not discuss.

~~~~~~~~~

Dream -> @/jokublog Ink -> @/comyet Blue -> @/popcornpr1nce Red -> @/underfell Sugarplum -> @/nsfwshamecave

[spiritsdiary]

— PRAISE with QIMIR/THE STRANGER

wc: 786 | content: p in v smut, i was again reasonably tipsy while writing this

❛❛good.” he breathes the word into the skin of your shoulder, watching intently as you work.

you wonder if he does it on purpose; if he’s feigning complete obliviousness to how suggestive he sounds. like right now— saying good like that when all you’ve done is properly mix a poison the way he taught you. maybe it’s because you’re a quick study when your reward is him.

when you first met qimir, you thought he was just like every other apothecary owner you utilized when necessary: clumsy, generally oblivious, a drunk who saw nothing wrong with being intoxicated before noon. to your defense, he played the part very well. it was only when you mentioned that you’d be extending your stay for a while and could use some work that you started to see the cracks in his facade.

spending so much time with him gave you a glimpse into his true persona— something darker, yes, but instead of scaring you off, it drew you in. you had a feeling that there was more to him underneath his baggy clothes and perpetually messy hair, but you never thought that all you’d have to do was let him teach you his trade in order to find out what more was.

“good,” he says again now as you insert the stopper into the vial of poison. “that’s perfect.”

you chew on your lip as you think about the last time he said that to you. “anything else you need from me?”

he hums, fiddling with the material of your sleeve at your wrist. “stay while i close up?”

you never understand how he’s able to get you to do what he wants so easily until you’re in bed with him.

his arms are so much more built than you’d imagined, his whole body really, and the first time he used that hidden strength to get you exactly where he wanted you, the words “thank you” genuinely slipped past your lips. you told yourself you were thanking the maker.

you do a lot of thanking the maker these days.

he moves differently in bed than he does in all other aspects of his life. here, he’s fluid, powerful, commanding. and he spares no detail.

“yes, yesyesyes,” he moans out when you sink down on him, his hands gripping your hips tight enough to leave bruises, slowly beginning to guide you back and forth. “just like this. you know how to do it.”

your hands are gripping his shoulders, anchoring yourself to him while he clutches at your back, and your hips seem to move with a will of their own. you don’t care if it exhausts you. if his pleasure is at your own expense.

“there you go, pretty girl,” he says, voice deep with desire, passion, for you. “let me see how good you are.”

you lean forward and press your lips to his, let him pry you open with his tongue, pull depraved sounds from your mouth. his hips cant up into yours as you do everything he taught you, everything that you know makes him feel good.

it makes you feel good too, knowing you’ve earned every gasp and moan and touch he gives you. he’s a different animal when it’s just the two of you, and you love knowing that you’re the only one that can bring it out of him.

“qimir,” you whine into his mouth, right when he hits that spot inside of you that has you seeing white. “good?”

you need to hear him say it. he needs to tell you.

“so good. so warm, so tight, so beautiful, fuck—” his hand is between your legs, thumb brushing you with practiced ease. “always my good girl.”

“only me?” you can’t think properly, not when it feels this good, this right to be so close to him, skin to skin, mouth to mouth, soul to soul with the way he reads your mind.

he nods, pushes your hair back from your face.

“only ever you.” he says it with such a passionate intensity, his dark eyes searching yours.

it sets you aflame, has you crying out mere moments later, collapsing into him as he gives you everything he has to give.

there’s something darker inside of him. a deep, yearning darkness prowling under his skin, simmering in his bones. you can practically feel it as you slide a hand over his chest, his pounding heart. like it’s calling to you.

“you always do so good for me,” he’s whispering into your hair, letting you press yourself against him. “sometimes i think i dreamt you up.”

you smile, kissing his neck just to make him shiver.

maybe there’s something darker inside of you too.

m.list

© spiritsdiary 2024. do not repost without permission.

[thimbleandakiss]

You Shouldn't Be Here

Hufflepuff!Reader x Fred Weasley

Summary: After a rough night, you sneak into Gryffindor Tower to bug your sleepy boyfriend.

Content: Fluff, mild angst, mild cursing, and Umbridge hate

Cross-posted on Ao3

"Bloody hell- what in Merlin's name-"

You quickly covered his mouth with your hand, grinning lopsidedly. 

"Shhh, Freddie," You hush with a small giggle, "You'll wake the others." 

You'd ensured the crimson curtains were drawn tight around Fred's fourposter, but there was only so much privacy fabric could provide. 

Fred grabbed hold of your wrist and effortlessly pulled it away from his mouth. He pressed a quick kiss to your knuckles before giving you an incredulous look. 

"What time is it, love?" He grumbled. 

"Oh, not long after one o'clock," You replied casually.

"And you're in Gryffindor Tower." 

You nodded, looking quite pleased with yourself, "Yes."

"...But you're Hufflepuff."

"And?"

"You shouldn't be here."

You raised a single eyebrow which probably couldn't be seen well in the gloom. "Are you, Fred Weasley, complaining about me breaking school rules?"

He huffed and shifted his weight, so he's sitting up just a little on the headboard while you straddled lap. His hands rested casually on your hips, thumbs mindlessly stroking the curve of the bone and your own arms slung across his shoulders. 

"No, not at all, love, it's just-" He sighed, "With that foul Umbridge woman running amok, consequences are a lot more... permanent."

Even in the low light of his dorm room, you could see the worry that shone in his eyes. Fred was always one for mischief, but he was hesitant to string you along in it. He had no issue whatsoever with throwing himself headfirst into danger, him and George, because they'd be the only ones to suffer the consequences. With you involved? ...He never wanted you hurt. He had this intense urge to keep you protected at all times. So, while he certainly enjoyed the fact that you were willing to bend the rules to be with him and get yourself in trouble just to cause mischief with him, he always found himself personally responsible whenever you got hurt. 

Your expression darkened slightly at the mention of the Professor. Your hands tightened behind his head, and the scars you'd kept hidden there burning like they had when they'd been freshly etched onto your skin. 

"Believe me, Freddie, I'm intimately acquainted with Umbridge's definition of consequences," You muttered, turning your face away slightly. 

Fred tensed beneath you, sitting up a little straighter. "What haven't you told me?" He demanded quietly but firmly. 

You shook your head. "It's nothing important-"

He cut you off and grabbed your chin to force you to look at him. "Bullshit," he said with careful calm. "Don't tell me what I do and don't find important."

The callouses of his hands scraped gently against the skin of your chin, and though his grip was firm, he's always made sure to be gentle. He'd never admit it to your face, but he treated you like the most precious, fragile thing. He'd probably die from the sheer guilt alone if he ever hurt you. 

You swallowed and, staring into his warm brown eyes which reflected the moonlight like stars across his pupils, found yourself unable to lie to him further.

"...I had detention with her today..." You admitted quietly, looking down. 

Fred let out a stream of colorful, and arguably creative, curses, dropping your chin and returning his hand to your hip. "When?" He asked stiffly, the muscles in his jaw working

"I got off and came straight here."

He cursed again. "She kept you there until one in the morning?!" 

You shrugged. "I suppose I have thicker skin than she anticipated," you mumbled with forced casualty. 

"I'm going to kill that woman." A shiver passed up your spine at the sheer conviction with which he spoke. "What was the reason for it?"

"She caught me consoling a second-year student about his own detention. I was trying to use magic to take away the pain. And, as you well know, all magic is now banned in the halls." 

Fred looked downright outraged. "She threw you in detention for comforting a child?" 

Another shrug. "You know Umbridge," You muttered, though it was of little comfort. "I wonder if she's somehow part dementor. She sucks the soul out of everything."

Fred scoffed lightly. Then, he lifted one of his large hands and set it gently on your arm. "Let me see," He asked softly. 

You knew exactly what he was referring to, and withdrew your hand from behind his neck, angling it so the fresh, angry scars caught in the moonlight. They read I must not set a bad example. 

Fred gently rubbed his thumb across the words, a few locks of his ginger hair falling in front of his eyes. Despite the situation, you smiled, loving the sight. With your spare hand, you gently brushed his hair off his forehead, and he glanced at you, his gaze briefly softening. 

"...This is some bloody bullshit," He muttered finally, intertwining your fingers. 

You chuckled softly. You knew he was upset and angry on your behalf, but you couldn't help but find his inability to adequately express it endearing. 

"It's alright, love," you murmured, running your fingers through his hair, "I'm alright."

He looked at you like he seriously doubted this but chose not to say anything. 

There're a few moments of comfortable silence, before you take a breath. "...Can I stay?" You asked hesitantly. 

He once again looked as if he was about to say something then decided against it. He sighed, "You want to?"

You nodded. 

"Alright. You can stay. But I'm not covering your ass if Professor Sprout gets mad at you for breaking curfew." Despite his words, you knew deep down that he would, in fact, try to cover your ass if it came to it.

You smiled gleefully and quickly shucked off your robe and pulled off your yellow and black tie, tossing them to the ground. You both knew George and Lee wouldn't say anything if they saw your clothes on the ground. They'd probably choose to actively avoid the topic. 

Fred reached over to his dresser and grabbed a spare jumper, handing it to you. It was so oversized that, if you stood, it'd reach to your knees. The extra room in the jumper allowed you to unbutton and slide off your school shirt without ever having to be actually shirtless. 

After the white fabric joined the pile on the floor, you leaned forward and settled against Fred's chest as he, too, laid back down, one arm behind his head, and the other wrapped securely around your waist. You lifted your face to smile at him and found him already grinning down at you. Propping yourself up slightly by your forearms, you planted a gentle kiss to his lips, one he happily returned. 

"Goodnight, Freddie," You whispered as you laid your head back down, closing your eyes and listening to his heartbeat. 

"Goodnight, love," He murmured back softly. 

He rubbed his thumb back and forth soothingly against the small of your back, just to let you know that he was still there, still with you. You knew the moment he started losing consciousness, because it was the same moment the reassuring motion ceased. 

It didn't matter much, however, because it wasn't long after that the sound of his soft breathing, and the quiet, comforting strength of his arm around you sent you into a blissful sleep. 

[losers-clvb]

ocean // soldier boy

pairing: soldier boy x female!reader

summary: things don't go as planned when you ask ben if he would ever marry you.

content: ben is mean as hell in the beginning, angst, hurt/eventual comfort, slightly toxic ben (but we love him for it)

word count: 3.2k

note: next sb fic is gonna be nasty, trust, but we all need a little angst in our lives.

masterlist

----

“Would you ever marry me?”

The question sliced through the blissful peace of your post-sex glow. It had been on your mind for a while but you hadn’t found the confidence to actually give a voice to it. For some reason, this time felt perfect.

You knew the answer. Or, you thought you did. It was supposed to be a yes. Why wouldn’t it be? You and Ben had been more or less dating for months now, and you weren’t expecting a proposal today. You just wanted the validation that you were worth something to him.

“Where the hell did that come from, doll?” Ben asked, shock lacing his tone. His chest rose when he took in a hit of the joint in his fingers. He offered the rolled paper to you and you declined, a frown on your face. He was supposed to say yes. Why didn’t he say yes?

“I was just wondering…” you trailed off, swallowing down your words at the hard gaze Ben gave you.

“You think too much.” He bit out. It wasn’t uncommon for him to speak to you like this, but his avoidance to answer your question struck you like a hammer. You dropped your eyes to the blankets in front of you. Suddenly, you felt too exposed, too open to the world. You pulled the sheet up to cover your top half.

“So, no.” You mumbled. You were trying hard to ignore the lump in your throat. You couldn’t cry now, not in front of him. It would be too hard to stop. Ben scoffed and rolled his eyes, sucking down the rest of the joint. He flicked it off to the side, into an ashtray you had practically begged him to use.

“I don’t get why it’s so fuckin’ important right now.” He grumbled, sliding a hand over your waist. You pushed it off, not in the mood. He frowned.

“Your cum’s dripping out of me and I make you dinner every night.” You snapped, turning on your side. Maybe sleep would fix this all. “Sorry for thinking that meant something.”

“You need to watch your fuckin’ attitude.” Ben growled. He didn’t like when you were mad at him. He preferred you to be his happy little girlfriend, even if it meant having to suck up to you sometimes. In the heat of this moment, he reverted back to that forceful man you had met. “I’m not gonna listen to you bitch about not gettin’ your way.”

You shivered at the anger and heartbreak you felt. He really thought of you in this way?

Ben looked over your form, searching for any hint that you would just give in and except his non-answer. You weren’t crying, but you also didn’t give him that smile he loved so much. In an attempt to soothe his own ego, prove to the non-existent audience that he was the top dog in this situation, he scoffed and rolled off the bed.

You shifted slightly, just enough to look at him without giving him your full attention. He was shaking his head as he walked to the end of the bed, swiping up a pair of his sweatpants that had been tossed off to the side. He slipped them on before giving you a bone-chilling look. It was like he hated you. Did he really hate you?

“Come find me when you’re not acting like a crazy bitch.” He seethed out before stepping into the hall. You flinched at the slam of the front door of the cabin you were staying in.

You didn’t recognize this man. Ben could be sweet and loving, and the only time you had seen him act like this was toward enemies or someone who got in his way. Never you. Maybe you had imagined it all, imagined the connection you thought you shared with him. You took in a shuddering breath and the tears finally fell. You sobbed into your hand, biting down on the flesh to try to keep the volume low.

Ben still heard you. He always heard you, felt you. It was a side effect of the Compound V in his system, but also because his body had learned to search for you everywhere. He leaned on the railing of the porch, sucking on another joint. He squeezed his eyes shut at your choked noises. Rain pattered down on the leaves around him and he ignored the way his heart clenched at your anguish. He would make it up to you later. With his mouth and body, he would make you forget ever feeling like this.

But you had other plans.

You weren't going to sit here and let this man wreck you, and you couldn't bear to look at him after everything he had said. You pulled yourself up on shaky legs. Mindlessly, you used your trembling fingers to dress yourself, haphazardly throwing on jeans and a t-shirt. It would have to do for now. You needed to get out of there.

You shoved clothes into a backpack, leaving behind the less important pieces. You could replace them if you really missed them. With a moment's hesitation, you left the necklace Ben had gifted you on the dresser, where you knew he would see it.

You stumbled to the back door, slipping Converse on your bare feet. It was raining. It did nothing to deter you from running out into the woods, feet crashing over twigs and moss. You knew the road was in this direction, and once you reached it, you would call your friend to pick you up. You were still sniffling when you dialed her number, voice wavering when you tried to sound normal.

----

Ben didn't know when he had spaced out but he did know that something was wrong when he was pulled out of it. His attention was latched onto a family of deer that had wandered to the front of the cabin, chewing on vegetation. He figured that was who he had heard cracking branches earlier.

He didn't hear your cries anymore. You must have been sleeping. He knew better than anyone that you always ended up crashing after a good cry. He sighed when he stood, stretching his sleepy muscles. It was time to make it up to his girl.

It wasn't as if he was completely against the idea of marrying you. It would be nice to see a diamond on your finger, shining at everyone to tell them to back the fuck off, she's mine.

But it would also mean admitting to everyone that you had him so far wrapped around your finger that he had to lock you down. He knew you would want him to have a band around his own finger. When he thought about it too much, it was all too much like Vought and the Russians. They had trapped him and he vowed to never let it happen again.

“Doll,” Ben called out softly on his way down the hallway. He listened for an answer. Nothing.

He couldn’t even hear your breathing.

He stepped into the room, eyes scanning around wildly. The blankets were messed up, but no woman lay sleeping in them. Your clothes that had been dumped on the floor in a sex-crazed flurry were gone. He whipped his head behind him, thinking maybe you were in the bathroom.

Something caught his eye.

The twinkling star pendant of your necklace taunted him. You refused to take the thing off for even a shower. He knew what it meant if it was there. You left him.

You fucking left him.

Ben almost reached for the jewelry, but held back when he noticed his hand trembling. He told himself it was from the anger coursing through him.

There, hiding underneath a blanket of learned hatred, was a spark of fear. He was angry, yes, but more than that he was afraid. You, the best thing to ever happen to him, were gone. You were somewhere out there without him. You had run from him.

He swallowed down that fear and chose to channel it into something he was more familiar with.

His fist crashed through the wall, leaving a hole behind. He pushed the dresser down on its side, making one of the legs fall off. His attention turned to the bed and he quickly descended upon it, smashing up the bedframe and ripping the sheets.

When he was finished, the room was in ruins. He was seething with a mix of emotions. He was going to find you. He needed to find you.

He would burn the entire world down to get to you.

----

You had managed to hide from him for three weeks.

Okay, you weren’t consciously hiding from him, but that’s what it had become. You figured he would just let you go. He had made it clear, at least from what you understood, that you meant nothing to him.

It was all just a matter of moving across the state. You found a big city, nothing like New York City, but it would have to do. A motel became your new home, your mind still not wanting to accept that you were having to uproot your life like this. Thankfully, your job was remote work, so you had no issues to work out with them.

You lived lonely. Most days you stayed in your room, scrolling through news articles and YouTube. You didn’t make friends. You didn’t go out to bars. You shut yourself off from everything, numb to it all. In the early mornings, when your mind was halfway in sleep, you felt your arm reach out to find Ben, but all you were met with was a cold pillow.

You missed him.

You loved him.

Maybe that was why you found yourself wandering the sidewalks of the city, a scarf tucked around your lower face. You tried to find something that gave you the same feeling as his green eyes.

That was when you saw his green eyes.

Staring at you from the other side of the crosswalk.

Ben.

Your eyes widened at the realization that he had found you. He stuck out in his green supe suit, everyone in the direct vicinity ogling the man. He only looked at you, jaw flexing. You almost wanted to go to him, but then you remembered his words. You didn’t move until he began to walk forward, stepping in front of a line of cars.

You scrambled backwards, wind and the honking of the cars’ horns flooding your ears. You huffed into your scarf while you ran, bumping into people while in pursuit of somewhere to hide. You practically fell into the walkway of an abandoned building, hoping for all that was worth something that the door would be unlocked.

When the click of the lock secured, you took a few more steps back, shaking with emotion. You weren’t scared of him. You were only scared of what he had said. The next wave came, this time heartbreak. You couldn’t do this again.

Bang

You snapped your head to the door. You didn’t move. Maybe he would just go away.

“I swear I will break down this goddamn door if you don’t fuckin’ open it right now.”

His voice was seething. You flinched at another slam. He wouldn’t hurt you, you knew that, but he would hurt anything that stood in the way of you.

You heard your name growled from the other side. Your breath caught in your chest. It had felt like a lifetime since you heard him say it.

You spun around, looking for somewhere to escape. No back doors. No open windows. You stumbled to a bedroom, tucking yourself into one of the closets just in time for Ben to kick the door down. You could feel his presence as he searched the main room for you. You thanked the Vought gods for not gifting him with x-ray vision.

“Sweetheart.” Ben growled and you heard him footsteps grow closer. He heard your breathing quicken, practically smelled your grief over seeing him again. It was like a honing signal, bringing him right to where you were.

He sucked in a breath when his eyes caught yours in the dark closet. Tears were streaming down your face, smudging your mascara. You backed away, but your back was met with the wall.

He stepped forward, continuing on until he was standing toe to toe with you. You looked up at him with a trembling chin.

His arms shot out to wrap around you, pulling you into his chest. You melted into him on instinct, eyes fluttering shut while you breathed in his familiar scent.

“You fuckin’ left me.” He grumbled out, squeezing you tighter in his arms. You swallowed and stayed silent.

“I will always find you. You can’t leave me.” If you didn’t know any better, you would have thought it was a threat. No. It was a promise. You read between the lines, caught on to the catch in his voice. This was his way of saying he loved you because he couldn’t bring himself to actually say the words. A flood of anger drowned out everything else.

“This was your fault!” You spat out. You flinched away from him, hitting and pushing at his chest. He stood there like a statue and took it. None of this hurt him, not physically anyway. “You asshole!”

“Did you meet someone else?” He asked, trying to divert the blame from him. You stopped your punch mid-air, looking at him like he was insane. You clenched your jaw, your fist turning into a finger that you jabbed into his chest.

“What, you think I’m a whore too? I know I’m already the ‘dumb bitch’ in your mind!” You all but screamed at him. You slapped a hand on his chest, trying to push him away. He didn’t move.

“I called you a ‘crazy bitch’.” Ben corrected and you completely lost it. You slammed both your hands into him with all your force. It actually made him step back to keep from losing balance, something you would have patted yourself on the back for if you weren’t already storming for the door. He took a few swift steps to reach you, fingers wrapping around your wrist to keep you from leaving.

You whirled around to look at him. Your eye was twitching. You had stopped crying, but your face was still wet. He looked down on you, face blank but eyes swimming with everything he was too “manly” to say.

“I hate you.” You bit out, trying to pull away from him. Ben shook his head.

“No you don’t.” He said, almost condescendingly. It was true. You didn’t.

“You’re mean to me.” You choked on the last word.

“I know.”

“You're selfish and arrogant and don’t know how to mind your own business.” Tears started streaming down your face again.

“I know.”

“You’re the love of my life and you don’t even want me.” You finally broke down. That made him finally release your wrist, but you weren’t pulling away anymore. You were shaking, lip quivering while you sobbed. Ben looked down on you, face twitching into something other than stoicism.

“Why don’t you want me?” You sobbed out, body shuddering. You almost fell over from the sheer force of all of these emotions coming at you, but Ben caught you before you hit the ground. You curled into him, head falling to rest on his bicep. He was holding you up like a ragdoll. He slowly sank to the ground, leaning back on the wall while he rocked you. You liked to be rocked, he knew.

“Why don’t you want me?” You asked again, voice smaller now. You weren’t calm, but you had stopped choking on your own crying. Ben pulled you closer into him, nuzzling his nose into your hair.

“You’re all I want.” He mumbled, trying to say it without actually saying it. This was pussy shit, he had thought before. What man needed words to get a woman to stay with him? That had to mean there was something wrong with his body or income or power. But, he knew you needed this.

And maybe he did too.

“I can’t sleep without you,” he confessed, the words trying to claw their way back into his body. He forced them out. “I can’t breathe without you. You’re my ocean, doll.”

That made your breath hitch again. He was talking about what you had told him just a few months ago.

The two of you had gone to a beach, but it was night now. No one was around and yeah, maybe you had taken a bit too much advantage of that. Ben had just pulled out of you when he noticed you staring out at the open water. He had, of course, bragged about getting you all fucked out, but your voice spoke up afterwards.

“It’s so peaceful. So calming.”

Ben had no choice but to agree. It was peaceful. The waves from earlier had calmed into a quiet lull like nothing you had heard before. Seagulls rested on the beach, seemingly watching the water like you were.

“That’s love. That’s what everyone should look for.”

You had mumbled out the sentiment and Ben had pulled you over to sit in between his legs. You leaned back into his chest, eyes fluttering shut from the exhaustion of the day.

“What? A fuckin’ ocean?”

Ben had found it all funny at first, not quite catching on to what you were saying. He thought you meant that everyone in the world should just take a trip down to their closest ocean and all would be right in the world.

You tilted your head up and lazily opened your eyes. He caught your gaze and felt his heart clench. It was the first time he really realized that he loved you.

“Yeah.” You hadn’t caught on to the fact that he wasn’t understanding. “Everyone needs their ocean.”

It hit Ben like a ton of bricks. You loved him. He was your ocean -- God, the words were so cheesy he couldn’t believe he’d actually said them out loud.

Now, you were looking up at him much like you had in that moment, but this time you weren’t on a beach, you were in a dirty house. Your face was wet with tears, not saltwater. You sucked in a deep breath.

“Say it.” You whispered. He knew what you meant immediately. He wanted to say them, God, did he want to say them. He hesitated, not because he didn’t mean them, but because it was yet another brick in the wall that you were slowly chipping away at.

“I love you.”

They were barely a whisper, more of a ghosting of breath. If a bird had even made the smallest of chirps, it would have gotten covered. All of this was true, yet every syllable hit you.

Relief fell over your face and you collapsed against him with another sob. It wasn’t sad this time, wasn’t born out of heartbreak. No, this sob was letting out all of the need and wanting you had for the past three weeks. It was molded from everything you had ever needed from him.

He would learn to scream it from the mountaintops that he loved you. He would scrape and push and kick at that wall inside him until it was nothing more than rubble. You knew it because he had actually said it.

You clutched your fingers around the arms that held you and echoed his words back to him.

“You’re my ocean.”

[eccentricallygothic]

Sunshine

Pairing: Recovering Winter Soldier!Bucky Barnes | Lab technician!You.

Description: As Shuri's top and most emotionally intelligent technician, you are the one Bucky ends up opening up to during his recovery in Wakanda… And then some.

Warning(s): Top Bucky, bottom reader, his vibranium arm, inexperienced reader, experienced Bucky, dirty talk, pet names, fingering, allusions to unprotected p-in-v sex, nipple biting, kissing, virgin reader, smut with plot, reader and Bucky like each other, brief mentions of his Winter Soldier days, age gap, teasing, humiliation, size kink, allusions to dacryphilia. Minors do not interact.

Type: Request by @imagine-all-the-fandoms, here.

Note: Can you tell I am obsessed with the arm?

MASTERLIST

.

It was usual for Bucky's corner of residence to remain deserted. He was still relatively new to Wakanda and people had heard enough tales about his past life to not welcome him with too much hospitality. They didn't take too warm heartedly to outsiders as it was. And a former killing machine was… well, you guessed it. But you were not sure that Bucky really minded. Apart from the bond he had formed with you -very slowly and steadily, might you add- during his therapy in Shuri's lab, you had observed he preferred being by his lonesome and did not mind the isolation.

The more you found out about him, the more you reckoned he probably needed it.

That was the reason why you felt guilt nip at your cheeks when you heard some leaves rustle behind you and when you instinctively turned to see what it was, you found no one other than Bucky staring back at you. Momentary panic settled in your bones but before you could try and ramble your case and embarrass yourself any more, Bucky offered you a small and friendly smile. You had no idea what it was about him that made you all shy and mum because usually you were a very confident and forthcoming person. You were Shuri's top technician after all. But there was something about the way Bucky's blue eyes watched you, how they flickered down your face just momentarily at times, the manner in which his lashes flexed if he looked further down south, and how his tongue subconsciously swiped across his lips during a conversation sometimes. 

It spread warmth throughout your whole body.

… Like right now.

“The… stars are so bright tonight” you tried your best to mask the awkwardness with a casual amiability. What? Bucky made you feel nervous, alright?  

The male only hummed in agreement as he quietly took a perch beside you, letting his longer legs down the edge of the lake that ran behind his cabin and letting his now bare feet touch the water that everyone used for swimming and fun.

The two of you stayed like that for a little bit, Bucky had never been much of a conversationalist in all the time you had known him and it was always you who had to prompt him to speak or engage in casual talk or even a discussion. A content smile played at your lips while you gazed up at the stars. You liked his corner of the land. It was very calming and serene. Perhaps even more so than the rest of Wakanda. Or so you felt.

It was Bucky's corner after all.

“So… how's the new arm?” You nodded towards the black and gold vibranium arm that the lab had finalized after various meticulous precautions and measurements while giving him the best mental and even physical therapy possible all the while. Shuri had called in Bucky this afternoon to finally install it into the socket you and other technicians had built into his side. After one last test to see if his HYDRA conditioning really was gone for good, it had been you who had with the use of tender and nimble fingers locked the arm into place. It had been a rather emotional moment and you were the only tech Bucky had allowed to touch him. Since he had never been allowed any liberty in his past life, Shuri made sure you all respected the man's comfort first and foremost.

You could never have a problem with that. 

“Pretty good, actually” your eyes followed the glint of the moonlight bouncing off the bionic limb as he flexed his fingers and slowly twirled his arm for you to see. “More comfortable too” you were a nerd so it got you excited. And no, the fashion in which the digits of his new hand had stretched had nothing to do with it.

“Yes! Shuri actually wanted to use…” You began the technical ramble Bucky didn't really understand but didn't mind either. “I suggested we instead use…” And it wasn't sympathy humming either, you had learnt that the Soldier had retained his sassy side and if you were boring him out, he had his quiet ways of giving you a shut up call. “Because I knew that it would bite on your skin…” You hadn't realized just how close you had scooted into Bucky and the way you were cradling his vibranium arm and its various crevices while it laid in your lap until his hot breath fanned some of the stray strands away from your face. “S- So…” Your voice wavered from the hyperawareness all of a sudden, eyes flickering down to his lips before you could stop them and your no longer coherent words quivered. “I- I… she… we…” A breathless chuckle escaped him.

“Y/n?”

“Bucky?” You tried to focus and as a result ended up widening your eyes so much that you looked like a fish out of water. What? Straight A bookworms like you didn't enjoy the luxury of knowing their way around the sex of interest. 

“Shut up” his words were outwardly blunt but the tone in which he said them, the half smile which made his lips handsomely droop to one side and the manner in which he leaned in soon after stopped you from getting offended just in time. Though you couldn't really visualize yourself getting mad at him anyways. 

“Okay, Bucky” was all you were allowed to blurt out before his pleasantly soft lips pressed against yours. You whimpered into his mouth from how tender the kiss was and how delicate he was about it. You had no idea what you were expecting and if you were even expecting something, but something so soft coming from a man with a stature like Bucky's, you were taken by a pleasant surprise. The kiss was warm and meaningful.

… But way too short. 

You gasped once you came to your senses and realized the gravity of the situation. You were kissing Bucky fucking Barnes! The kiss had been rather brief– too brief, but it had also felt like an eternity at the same time due to how your brain had declined you of its service.

Bucky was taken aback by your gasp and now a guilty panic began to mar his handsome features. “I… am sorry…” He wasn't as inexperienced as you but there were generations and years of lack of practice between you two and self doubt began to fill him. “I–” you vehemently shook your head when he began to back away.

“N- No! No, no!” You repeated desperately. “No, Bucky!” You finally had him after months of secret wondering and longing and you were not about to let it go. “No!” So you leaned in yourself this time and hurriedly pecked his lips before pulling back a little to look at him to see if he was still comfortable with it. The next kiss you pressed to his lips was admittedly one that caused for guilt to knot up in your chest because his expression had been difficult to read and in case he didn't want to take this any further, you needed to feel him one last time. 

Bucky wordlessly kissed you again and you didn't give him a chance to back away this time. And after that it was a passionate tussle of your hands and lips pulling and sucking down at one another until you were both undressed in Bucky's bed, tangled together. 

Bucky's vibranium fingers cupped the side of your face as he put his hot tongue into the kiss. You were laying down on your back in the middle of the bed and his huge form was bent over you, one knee pushed between your legs. The man knew how to kiss and he certainly knew how to eat, it was clear from how his tongue pressed against yours before it went to explore the rest of your mouth. The way he swirled it around your own sent heat and shivers down your abdomen and straight to your core that had begun to pulsate when you were still outside. 

“Tell me, doll,” his guttural voice made you moan into his mouth when he let his bionic fingers trail down the side of your body before they found a hold in the soft cut between your hip and torso. “Did you fantasize about me touching your pretty body like this when you used to ‘inspect’ the arm, hm?” You blushed severely. Bucky knew a slut when he saw her. Even the shy little inexperienced ones like yourself. He was twice your age and had ten times more experience. 

“B- Bucky…” You felt called out as your ticklish palms -courtesy of his stubble- began to moisten up from the shame his words made you feel. 

“Are you really gonna deny it?” His voice was low and sexily lewd. That tongue of his did the sexy thing again where he ran it along his flush lower lip and your thighs quivered in response to the visual. “Because I've seen the way you used to look at it… The way you looked at it today…” Images of him flexing his fingers as trial from earlier today appeared before your eyes and you couldn't help but wonder if you would feel them tonight. Or how they'd feel if one was to get lucky with him. The thoughts made you want to tighten your thighs against one another, only his knee hindered your wishes. 

“Bucky…” It was a whine this time and he chuckled. 

“Aw, what is it, huh baby?” He hungrily kissed your lips again before he pulled back just enough so he could be audible but not so much that the spit string between your mouths would break. “Tell me and I'll give it to you” you surprised yourself by placing your hand over his and eagerly pushing it down towards your aching pussy. Bucky snickered. “Is that what you want, pretty girl? My fingers in between these sexy little legs of yours?” You sheepishly nodded but said nothing, rolling your hips from the surge of lava his deep voice was causing in your loins. “I am sorry, baby. But this won't do” he clicked his tongue as he pretended to pull away. 

“W- What?!” Your imploration was unintentionally loud. “Why?!”  

The coral of his eyes had become so much darker than when he had first kissed you. “Because you must use your words for me first” his body weight rested on his elbow as he stroked your face with his right hand, speaking in the tone of a man addressing a child. “Tell me what you want” his metal fingers kneaded the tender flesh of your hip as his lips pressed against you in a series of pecks. 

You softly pouted. “B- Bucky!” The whine you let out was accusatory in nature. Because he knew exactly what you wanted. 

“Aw” he mimicked your pout. This man was so different from the recovering sunshine you had known before this night. The disparity caused for a drop of hot arousal to bubble past your opening. “Would you look at this pouty little thing here?” His thumb traced the shape of your bottom lip before he pressed it down with the tip. 

“P- Please…” He was being so mean. It embarrassed you. But it also added to your arousal. 

Bucky was making you work for it. 

“I know, baby. I know…” He pressed kisses along your jaw in consolation, metal fingers coming up to toy with the swells on your chest. “Pretty things like you aren't used to putting in much work, are they?” Well, no. Simply because this was the most action you had ever gotten. But it made your pussy throb nevertheless. “Well, that's not how things work around here, baby. You gotta tell me how you want me first” you whined past the thick bile in your throat but Bucky did not relent, instead choosing to intently watch you until you caved to him and your need. 

He could do that for the rest of eternity anyways.

“F- Fine…” Your voice was a begrudging whisper once you realized there was no way out. 

“‘Atta girl, go ahead…” His voice was a much agreeable velvet. 

“N- Need you…” You cleared your throat since you were barely audible. “Need you, Bucky” your back arched in shock and a whimper escaped you when you went to place your smaller hand on his bionic one to guide it to your pussy only to him twist your nipple that he had been fingering at the very last moment. 

“I am sorry, what was that?” The clamber in his breathing rate signaled that he had heard you loud and clear. But he just wanted to be cruel to your dignity. 

You were on the verge of tears. “Need you, Bucky!” Before you forced his hand down your body again. “... D- Down there!” The lower part of your abdomen was thumping like it did when you had first discovered the state of arousal. 

“Down where?” You felt like screaming at the tease in his tone.

“Y- You know where!”

“Do I?” 

You hissed. “Down there!” You made him cup your pussy. “Here! Right here!” Your breath quivered at the feel of the metal brushing past your sensitive petals. “B- Between… between… Ah!” Your blood curdled at the wanton moan you let out, surprised by your own ability to make such a sound. 

“Oh, so you mean this cute little pussy, huh?” His bionic digits finally spread themselves over your needy core and your mind nearly melted out of your ears. 

“Y- Yes!” You breathily admitted, flinging your head to the side as you gripped his shoulders from the sensory overload, your hardened nipples grazing against his hairy chest. 

Bucky tutted like the teasing asshole he was. “You gotta say it, baby” his fingers squished their way between your pussy lips and the feel of the textured digit running down the stripe between them had you shuddering. “Say it properly. Tell me you need me in this cute little pussy of yours” when you whined in protest, he licked a stripe on the side of your mouth and then sealed it with a hot kiss. “You can do it, pretty girl. You're already doing so well for me” his words had caused you to make a puddle of warm white liquid on his bed. But Bucky didn't seem to mind. “Come on.” 

“N- Need you in m- my…” Your throat dried out and your voice remained absent until Bucky hummed in an encouraging manner and dipped his head between your head and shoulder to pepper kisses along your sensitive throat, metal fingers flexing over your pussy in a rapid, circular design. Your smaller body quivered under his, knees buckling up to press into his sides from the sensitivity of it all. “Need you in my c- cute little pussy so bad– oh!” Your back jerked itself straight when Bucky's middle finger found its way into your weeping cunt all of a sudden.

“Sorry, whose cute little pussy?” His friendly smile had any intentions but.

“M- My cute little pussy!” Your toes curled at your own words.

“See, baby?” His teeth that were busy marking you his grazed against the soft skin of your neck. “That wasn't so hard now, was it?” 

“Oh, Bucky!” He scooped you up against his chest with his other arm and crawled with you until your head was on his pillow and he was hovering above you. Your lips were parted and your balmy pussy was tight around his finger that fucked in and out of you as a steady pace. 

“I think we have ourselves a problem here, doll” Bucky rasped as he tickled your clit with thumb, adding another finger to your opening. You were so wet that despite the tightness of the band, the metal digit slid right in. 

You couldn't help but rock your hips against his hand, your own stroking his arm that rested on your torso while he played with your nipples. “W- What problem?” Any volume above what classified as whispering was impossible for you in your lust dumb and still shy state.

“Your pussy is too tiny for me” and that night you lived to learn that he was right. 

Minutes– no, hours had gone into Bucky opening you up and preparing you for his girth, shushing and consoling you with kisses and praises before your taking. Though you had been insistent that he not stop what he was doing because of how good it felt, tears and snot had admittedly been spilled. 

But the way his thick cock had filled you up to the brim so completely, the manner in which all its crevices had pressed against your tight velvet walls, the fashion in which his tip had created for itself a sensitive spot deep up your cavern, the affectionate and intimate style in how Bucky had snaked his vibranium arm around your form to hold you close against him while his hips had done their eventually brutal work and the length of his cock had rapidly fucked in and out of your stretched out cunt, your fingers tugging at his dark locks whilst his mouth marked you everywhere he desired, the pleasure you felt from the sting his mouth produced, and the bobbing of your knees which lay atop his against his sides… the orgasms had been loud and many. 

Though when the two of you exited his cabin the next morning and entered the line of sight of your employer who was both surprised and impatient by your being late to work for the first time ever, the mangled expressions of passion from the night before were present on neither of your faces, content smiles having replaced them.

You had high hope it was going to stay that way.

.

[hminnj]

Maybe In A Different Age

Senku/fem reader

cw: angst no comfort (i tried) ik this fandom kinda dead lowkey but I wanted to write this cause its so senku coded. Senku's an idiot (unsuprisingly). Not very good writing.

wc: uhh i wrote this in my notes, around 1k probably

-

Byakuya brings two strangers into their house on a random thursday.

"Senku, this is a close friend and her daughter, I'm sure you guys will get along splendidly."

"Ok."

Five year old Senku is harshly blunt when he meets you for the first time, staring at him silently as if you've never seen a human before. He doesn't have anything to say and it seems neither do you, so he walks off, deciding he has better things to do. Promptly ignoring the sigh and apology the older man lets out.

.

"So I got this new idea and I'm going through the basic logistics and research right now, might need your help later."

"I'll go get us some snacks and something to do while you work on it then."

Six year old Senku watches you dissappear from his doorway, absentmindedly humming while you head to the very familiar kitchen. Your family has been apparently busy as of late so he forcibly sees your face more often. You usually just eat his food, do your work, and ask him (dumb) questions. You're a friend now, he supposes.

.

"Hey dum dum, Byakuya got me new equipment, so I have some new ideas. So listen up."

"Course Senku!"

Seven year old Senku grins, you're always willing to help him out for whatever reason you have (something weird probably, in his opinion). In return, he always tells you what he's working on and his labor demands. So per usual, he excitedly gets into the details of the next project that he plans on working you and Taiju to the bone for.

.

"Hey Senku?"

"What?"

"I think I love you."

"Huh? You better not be catching feelings dum dum." He gives you a confused squint after hearing your words.

"Whatever you say." You hum

Eight year old Senku hears you say those three words for the first time, you don't say why and he doesn't know either. He thinks its rather idiotic, but he shrugs it off after you silently go back to reading. You've been picking up books more often as of late, not that he cares much.

.

"You're late for the test runs, Taiju and Yuzuriha already left."

"Sorry sorry! My teacher held me up a little later at practice today."

"Hm." His disappointed stare returns.

"Im sorry..? Love you?" You're sheepish with your response.

"How is that supposed to make up for anything? Now come help me carry this stuff"

"As you wish, princess Senku."

Nine year old Senku doesn't understand why you and Byakuya tell him that so often (or that stupid nickname sourced from his "feebleness"), but he moves on quickly to detail the results of the test and the numerous next steps. Much to his pleasure.

.

"Wake up stupid. You fell asleep." Senku (roughly) shakes you awake from your shoulders, poking at your face a few times.

"Huh? Oh sorry Senku, I guess I'm just tired."

"Well you're not gonna wanna miss this." He grins while looking up, expectant.

"Hm. Hey the moons pretty tonight yeah?"

"It looks the same as it always does. Is that poetry getting to you and making you sappy?"

You wait before responding, "Maybe."

Eleven year old Senku keeps you up on certain nights for his projects or for nights like these where there's a meteor shower. He thinks you should stop reading so much of those books that make you sound like Byakuya. You should also get more rest, he adds.

.

"Happy Valentines Day Senku!! Got you a gift, heh."

"Must I tell you again?" Senku turns to a usual sight, you waving a gift in front of his face as if he were a dog.

"I'm good I just wanted to remind you."

"Right."

Twelve year old Senku doesn't see the point in meaningless feelings or holidays for said feelings. Nevertheless, he takes the homemade chocolate from you, skimming through the card which contents include exactly what he expected (a confession of sorts, again), and placing it to the side. Ignoring it in favor of the much more sensible chemicals in front of him. Like every year though, Senku keeps it. He doesn't know why.

.

"Taiju and Yuzuriha definitely have something going on don't you think?"

"And you're bringing this up why?"

You pause, you know why, but you know he wouldn't understand. "It's cute... wish I could have something like that you know?"

"...For the last time-"

"I know I know Senku, don't worry I'll try to bother you less."

Thirteen year old Senku doesn't see you as much anymore, mostly because of your practice that your mom wants you to perfect. You come over less nowadays, a shame (for his projects obviously), but your presence isn't any smaller of an intrusion at school. So much for bothering him less.

.

Around 21:00 is when he hears the familiar ringing of his doorbell. "It's late, why are you here?"

"Got out of training not too long ago and wanted to see you before I headed in."

"Your house isn't even remotely close to mine" A raised eyebrow is all you get in response to your grin.

"What does it matter when I'm already here, but gotta go before I get scolded. Goodnight Senku, Love you!"

"You know it's never gonna happen, as you know-"

"Yeah yeah, 10 billion percent illogical, I know, but I can't let my favorite person forget can I?" You flash another smile.

"As if I'd ever with how often you say it, now goodnight."

Fourteen year old Senku closes the door after you've cheerfully said your bye and faded from his sight enough. The lack of noise is strange, now that Byakuya has "ascended like an angel" (his words not Senkus) it's much quieter. The usual noise of a certain two people is absent more often than not. He let's the silence of the house sit in.

.

"Hey, can you get me something from the storage real quick? Need it soon but that bonehead forgot when he came up here babbling about confessing to Yuzuriha"

"Of course. I'd do anything for you. Always here. You know that Sen."

Fifteen year old Senku glances at your fleeting figure. The nickname is new, for sure. And he can't say he dislikes it, but the lack of a certain three words with your departure is strange. He brushes it off to your usual forgetfulness and peers out the window at Taiju and Yuzuriha. Thoughts preoccupied until a bright green light overtakes his vision and he can't do anything but think into the void.

So he counts.

And maybe every once in a while you pop into his head like you always do.

.

Three-thousand and something year old Senku wakes up to a world where theres a lack of civilization, a lack of his decency, and most importantly, a lack of you.

You would be useful right now, he supposes.

.

Three-thousand and something year old Senku spends his free time trying to find you and the rest of the "gang" (as you would say).

He finds Taiju, he finds Yuzuriha, he also finds a lion-punching maniac, but there's no sign of you.

He's ten billion percent sure you survived.

Right?

The concerned stare Yuzuriha gives him as they part is ignored.

.

(Physically) Sixteen year old Senku celebrates this birthday gazing into the sky from his new observatory. It reminds him of a lot of things, but he can't help but notice how empty it is, it's eerily quiet.

He doesn't like it.

Senku wishes you were here.

His first real birthday wish.

.

(Still) Sixteen year old Senku breaks when he hears his father's voice again for the first time in ages. It's not his voice that gets to Senku. He's heard it plenty enough in his lifetime. It's the mention of you.

"Just kidding! I know it's you on the other side of this Senku! And ____'s there with you right? Please tell me you're dating already or even better married so I can have grandchildren. Please please please Senku! Although you can't really tell me that but-"

Senku stops himself from showing vulnerability in front of the village, and he also stops himself from pausing the record right there and then. Opting to sigh and curse his dad out as a cover up, his fist lightly punching the table.

"Damn you old man."

The questions from the villagers about who you could be are forgotten in favor of an angelic voice. Senku's quick to tune it out. It reminds him of you.

.

(Mentally) Sixteen year old Senku sits by himself that night. It's been a long day. The constant repeat of a certain melody in the background, more work for the science kingdom, and a few questions about who you were. They stopped after a few radio silences from him, feelings are hard for the scientist after all.

It's cold.

He wishes you were here.

It's dark.

He wishes you were here.

It's lonely.

He wishes you were here.

The day he can always guarantee you're there has long passed. You should be here, is what his mind tells him. You owe him for the past 3000 years of missed birthdays after all.

It's funny, in his opinion. That you were probably most-definitely always there. And the one (multiple actually, 10 billion in his mind) time he looks for you, you're not there.

He doesn't think its funny.

"I'd do anything for you huh..."

Anything but keep your word.

He scoffs, but it's directed at himself. He would never blame you for this, or anything for that matter, he can't.

So he sits. And he stays. Like you would've wanted him too. He looks at the clear sky like you usually do. And he notes how the moon is pretty tonight. Just like you.

"I love you too."

He's 10 billion percent sure he does.

-

Thanks for reading, if you did :). Sorry for any errors not fully proofread. Senku is so right person wrong time coded when it comes to romance that i had to write this even if its lowkey bad

[wooobuddyletsgetnasty]

i have to get this out of my head oops

dick grayson x reader

⚠️: micro-cheating, dick grayson is obsessed, you respect yourself and LEAVE his ass, sexual content (M masturbation), dick looks at pics/vids of you without your consent like a little heart broken loser— blah blah blah

(you can imagine any version of dick you want)

maybe you should have put your foot down sooner, in fact, you absolutely should have.

you feel pathetic— like you wasted time on him. you shouldn’t worry when he’s out late vigilanteing— but you do. what if she’s there? what if she’s the one he thinks about when it’s late and he’s tired and alone?

you’ve seen slivers of conversation. nights where he can’t be bothered even to speak to you, all followed by you discreetly peeking over his shoulder, just to see her name. you always plan on confronting him, telling him you’re not stupid and you know what he’s doing but then— then you go to bed, and he wraps you up tight in his arms, kisses your shoulders, and you forget.

you should have known better— you should have learned from past mistakes but you chose to believe it isn’t what it is, what you know is true.

you love him, but he doesn’t love you back.

in theory, he does love you— but not the way you love him. not the way your love makes you drop everything, scurrying to place yourself accessible for every single fucking thing he needs, not in the way you turn off your phone— itching to hear him talk, not in the way you cut off anyone that could be a threat to your blooming relationship.

he doesn’t love you the way you love him and you’re okay with that— at least for a little bit. you can take the pain to the face. you allow yourself to feel what you feel— and then you swallow it.

you’ve wished for him for years, loved him for years. and you convince yourself you can live like this.

——

you can recall the exact day, the exact moment that makes you question everything about your relationship.

dick is standing in the kitchen of his apartment, dressed well and smelling like every dream you’ve ever had of him. he’d invited you over after work, saying sweet lines about missing you and wishing to see you.

you peer at him with curious eyes, asking instantly, “i thought you were off today— where have you been?” the breath is sucked from your lungs instantly, “well— kori needed my help with something today so i drove over.”

you pause in the doorway, heart beating loud enough you can’t hear anything but it. you’re hesitant in your next words, “oh— uhm.. you didn’t tell me that you were going to kori’s today..” your voice trails, you’re unsure what to say next— unsure if you should bring up any worries, unsure if you should voice how absolutely uncomfortable the idea of them being alone makes you.

he’s seeing her in the daytime now. using his precious days off to assist her with things she needs. it’s more than just texting— more than just work.

you don’t have the chance to speak your concerns, dick’s million-watt smile pulling you out of any worries you had. he takes your coat and he asks you how your day was— and you forget.

——

the next time— the final time comes on a day that you feel worse for wear.

you feel like you got hit by a fucking trash truck— every bone in your body somehow hurts and you’re tired beyond reason.

you feel bad, like you’re ruining the plans you and dick had made for the day, despite him hushing you softly, promising that he doesn’t mind— promising that he’ll take care of you.

you give in— and you rest on the couch for just a second. a second, that’s all you need, you swear to yourself.

you don’t wake up for hours.

when the first stream of dull light hits your eyes, you’re dazed— confused. the apartment is silent. there’s no tinkering, no TV show playing obnoxiously in the background— there’s no sign of dick anywhere.

your stomach seems to drop impossibly lower— you feel ill, iller than before, and there’s something gnawing— chewing at the back of your brain until you’re sure your right— dick isn’t here because he went to kori’s.

you feel delusional for a second— it can’t be true. he wouldn’t do that to you, would he?— but with each breath, each thought running through your groggy mind, you convince yourself you’re fucking right.

you check your phone with a hesitance you haven’t felt ever in your life.

it seems like your suspicions were correct. a text message from dick is all you see, a text message from over an hour ago— “be back soon— running some errands.”

errands your fucking ass.

——

despite how worn down you feel, utterly heartbroken and impossibly sicker than you felt before your nap— you spend the time packing up things you’ve left in dick’s apartment. clothes, your toothbrush, shampoo and conditioner— miscellaneous nicknacks that you’d brought over with your time spent here, with him.

you’d feel impossibly stupid if he comes home and it was nothing— but you know it isn’t. call it intuition or maybe just fucking crazy but you know it.

it takes just about another hour for him to show face, in fact, you hear him before you see him— soft footsteps on the well of the stairs, the jingle of his keys. you have them memorized and for a moment, just a moment before you tear the future down in front of you, you allow yourself to be excited.

——

he looks happy when he sees you, wide awake and sitting on the couch. he speaks your name in the tone that makes your heart flutter, but he’s stopped short at the site of the bags by your feet.

when you ask this time, there’s no room for argument, “where were you?” there’s something in your tone that makes him avoid eye contact— he’s guilty, and he fucking knows it.

“kori called while you were sleeping— she needed help moving a couch into her new apartment.”

again— the breath gets stolen from your lungs, “and that was your errand?” you don’t even think of mentioning she’s freakishly fucking strong and could put the goddamn couch on her back if she really needed to— it’s irrelevant.

he puts his keys down on the table he keeps next to the door, the noise sending a sharp twinge of irritation up your spine. he nods, mouth instantly opening for whatever bullshit apology you know he will spew.

you cut him off sharply, “i won’t do this.” you take in a deep breath, standing to your full height, “you don’t get to treat me like this.”

your tone is calm, sure— but dick can see it in your eyes, you’re rightfully fucking furious.

“you’re leaving me?” there’s something quiet, something pathetic in his tone when he asks. it throws a wrench in your plan— goddamn him, goddamn dick fucking grayson and his perfect fucking eyes.

you’d spent the hour waiting for him imagining that you’d be tough as nails— sure of yourself. you’d tell him straight that you were leaving and leave it at that.

you don’t feel like that anymore.

“i don’t know.” it’s honest. you mean it when you say it and you can see the sag of relief in his shoulders when you speak it to him.

he shifts, like he wants to touch you, but he seems to restrain himself, “i have to go, bruce called. he needs help in Gotham. please,” he does it again, speaks your name in the tone that makes you melt, makes you think that you could put up with him entertaining kori for the rest of your lives, “please don’t leave— we can talk about this more when i get back.”

you agree to his request.

but— in the end, you lie.

you lug every fucking memory of yourself down the stairs of his apartment— and then, when you make it safely to your home— you block his fucking phone number too.

——

it takes until the morning for dick to realize you’re gone. really gone.

maybe it’s because he’s been out all night— helping bruce, Batman, restrain every criminal that had escaped from Arkham— or maybe it’s because he lingered in Gotham too long, worried about what he’d find when he returned home.

something about you— the look in your eye when you’d confronted him.

you weren’t staying and he fucking knew it— but he left anyways, too scared to watch you walk away, to watch you abandon him.

when he comes home, he hopes to see you cuddled up in his bed, sleeping soundly the way you normally would be on your days off and he’s gone for the night— but instead he finds nothing.

not even an echo of you.

everything you’d ever graced his apartment with is gone.

the air feels heavy with regret, his regret.

dick decides he need to go to bed— he needs sleep.

he will worry about winning you back when he’s back to his normal wits.

——

you’ve changed your phone number.

dick can’t reach out to you even if he’d tried.

it’s been a week— almost two and dick feels like he might crumble. he needs to see you. he needs to speak to you.

he’s so used to you, you and your bright smile— you and the way you show up and liven up any situation. he craves you, the way you rub his shoulders— the way you ease him into relaxing.

but you’re gone and he knows he shouldn’t do it. he knows you’d hate him for even thinking about it— but he can’t fucking help it.

he opens the hidden folder on his phone— the folder full of pictures and videos of you.

full of picture and videos your bare pussy— your whole bare body. videos of you keening for him to touch you, pictures you’ve sent from the safety of your apartment, just for him.

he could just look at the non-lewd pictures of you, of the two of you, but he’s sure he has them memorized by now. he needs something else, something new.

and as he’s looking at them— he can’t help himself. he misses you so much. the way your hair smells, how your body feels against his— the way you taste.

his hands pull at his boxers— just one time, he thinks— and then he touches himself for the first time since you’ve been gone, since you left him.

he touches himself to the sight of you, spitting on his cock when he needs to— to slick himself up, to imagine it’s you, your soft insides he’s sinking into with each desperate thrust of his hips.

he cums with a noise he’s never heard himself make before— calling your name with a sound so pathetic it makes his ribcage hurt.

he deletes the pictures and videos of you, the whole album, the moment he realizes what he’s done.

and then, once he’s settled back into his bed, clean and alone— he cries.

he fucking cries— he misses you so much.

what will he do without the memory of you? he just deleted the last little grip of his sanity.

——

despite his sureness that deleting your photos was the right choice, he feels more empty without them.

the very next night he spends hours— hours, surfing porn sites. he needs someone that resembles you— the way your body looks, the color of your hair, the way you sound.

it takes longer than he anticipated, the sun rising quicker than he thought it would but he finally finds one satisfying enough that he gets the urge to touch himself.

dick grayson thought he was above videos of internet girls. he thought he’d never need to resort back to porn like a teenager but that’s obviously changed now— none of the women willing to fuck him in real life are you.

after an empty orgasm, he pays to save the video.

he doesn’t know it yet, but he’ll watch that video until he’s fucking memorized it.

maybe he’s a pathetic mess but hopefully, wherever you are, you’re happy.

[buckets-and-trees]

Maybe Not

Characters/Pairings: Alpha!Ari Levinson x curvy Female!Reader Word Count: 2k Summary: You've survived in these bleak circumstances for a reason - only trusting yourself. Can that really change after one night with an alpha who's little more than a stranger?

Content/Warnings: omegaverse, feels, angst, apocalyptic setting

Notes: This is a direct sequel to the Alpha Ari drabble I wrote during my Alpha April blitz last year. No one demanded more for this little verse, but also people weren't against potentially having more at the time. And I watched something recently that brought these two back to my mind.

↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

The next morning, you bolt. 

You wake before dawn, your body still aching sweetly from the night before. His arm is heavy across your waist, his breathing deep and even. For a moment, you allow yourself to feel safe, to breathe in his scent and memorize the weight of him against you. 

But panic rises in your chest like a tide. This isn't safe. Nothing is safe anymore. 

You carefully extract yourself from his embrace, wincing as the floorboards creak beneath your feet. You gather your clothes, dress quickly in the dim light filtering through the boarded windows. Your backpack is where you dropped it by the door. You check your knife, tuck it into your belt, and take one last look at him. 

He looks younger in sleep, vulnerable in a way that makes your chest hurt. You almost reconsider, almost crawl back into that warm bed. 

You don't even leave a note. It feels safer this way—cleaner. No messy goodbyes, no promises you can't keep. Just the familiar weight of your backpack, the comforting press of your knife against your hip, and the cool morning air on your face as you slip out before sunrise. 

His scent still clings to your skin. You try not to think about how right it felt in his arms, how for the first time since everything fell apart, you'd slept without nightmares. 

"Stupid omega," you mutter to yourself, trudging through the woods that surround his hideout. "Getting attached is how you die." 

But your body betrays you. Every step away from him feels wrong, like you're walking against a current. Your omega instincts scream at you to go back, to nest, to submit to the safety he offers. 

You make it three miles before you hear it—the distant rumble of an engine. His truck. 

You freeze, pressing yourself against the trunk of a massive oak tree, heart pounding in your throat. The rumbling grows louder, then stops. A door slams.

"Omega!" His voice carries through the trees, a mixture of indignation and desperation that makes your skin prickle. "I know you're out here!" 

You hold your breath, pressing a hand over your mouth. Maybe if you stay still enough, he'll give up, drive away, forget about you. 

"I can smell you, you know," he calls, closer now. "Your scent's all over me, all over my bed. Did you think I wouldn't notice the second you left?" 

Leaves crunch under heavy boots. He's tracking you, following your scent trail with the precision only an alpha can manage. 

"You're scared," he says, voice gentler now. "I get it. But running away isn't going to keep either of us safe."

You close your eyes, willing your racing heart to slow. He's right behind the tree now. One step and he'll see you.

"I woke up alone," he says, and there's raw hurt in his voice now. "After everything we shared. After you finally trusted me enough to stay the night. Do you know what that felt like?"

Something in you breaks. Maybe it's the gentleness in his voice, or the memory of his body against yours, or just the bone-deep exhaustion of surviving alone for so long. You want to step out from behind the tree.

But you just can’t. 

"I'm not asking for forever, omega. I'm just asking for today. And maybe tomorrow." His footsteps have stopped. He's giving you space, you realize. "Your choice. Always your choice."

Your fingers skim over your neck. He didn’t mark you or claim you last night. There had been a moment when he scented you between kisses, and you had seized up, and he had been so in tune with you, registered your reticence, and whispered that he could wait. 

Truthfully, that had been what had made you feel safe enough to stay the night with him. 

But you still didn’t know him. 

Slowly, you step out from behind the tree. He's standing two meters away, his golden skin catching the early morning light filtering through the trees. His hair is disheveled, like he ran his hands through it repeatedly in frustration. He's wearing only jeans and a hastily buttoned shirt—he must have dressed in seconds after discovering you gone.

"I don't know how to do this," you admit, your voice small in the vastness of the forest. "Before everything I knew how to let people in - I was good at letting people in. But then I lost everyone. Now, it feels impossible."

"We're all figuring it out as we go, 'mega. There's no guidebook for the end of the world."

You stay rooted to your spot, and so does he. 

"I don't even know your name," you say, your voice hoarser than you expected.

Something like relief washes over his face. "Ari," he says. "My name is Ari."

"Ari," you repeat, testing it on your tongue. You had only called him Alpha last night.

"And yours?" he asks gently.

You hesitate, then give him your name. It feels strange to say it aloud—you haven't introduced yourself to anyone in years. 

Ari takes a hesitant step toward you, hand outstretched. "Come back with me," he says. It's not a command, but a plea, his blue eyes searching yours. "We can figure this out together."

You shake your head, taking a step backward. "No, I can't."

"Why not?" His voice cracks slightly.

"Because I'll want to stay," you admit, the truth spilling out before you can stop it. "And I can't afford to want things anymore."

He drops his hand, eyes never leaving yours. "That's exactly why you should come back. We all need something to want in this world."

You adjust your backpack straps, feeling the familiar weight settle against your shoulders. "The more you have, the more you have to lose."

"We've already lost everything," he counters. "What's left except to try to build something new?" 

A bird calls overhead, breaking the tension. You look up reflexively, old habits from before—when the worst thing you had to worry about was being late for work.

"You don't have to decide forever right now," Ari says, his voice gentler. "Just come back for breakfast. I have coffee." 

Your stomach growls traitorously at the mention of food. You eat enough, but always sparingly, saving rations for as long as possible, never sure when you will no longer be able to find something to scavenge. 

"Coffee?" you repeat, unable to keep the longing from your voice. 

He smiles, and it transforms his face. "Real coffee. Not that instant crap. Found a sealed bag last week." 

The thought of hot, real coffee is almost enough to make you sway on your feet. It's been years since you've tasted it. 

But you can’t. 

"I need to be alone," you say, but the words sound hollow even to your own ears. 

"No one needs to be alone," Ari replies, his voice soft but firm. "Especially not now." 

A twig snaps somewhere in the distance. Both of you freeze, instincts honed by years of survival kicking in. Ari moves closer to you, protective even now, his body angled between you and the potential threat. 

"Raiders?" you whisper. 

He shakes his head slightly. "Too early. Probably deer." But his hand moves to the knife at his belt anyway. 

The moment stretches, both of you listening intently. When no further sounds follow, Ari relaxes marginally, but doesn't move away from you. 

"Come back," he says again, quieter now. "Just for breakfast. Just for the coffee.”

"And then what?"

"And then you decide. Stay, go—it's your choice. Always will be."

You close your eyes, feeling the weight of his words. The temptation of coffee, of companionship, of his warm bed—it all pulls at you. But the fear is stronger. 

"I can't," you whisper, shaking your head. Your feet feel heavy as you move away from him, each step a battle against your omega instincts that beg you to return to the alpha who made you feel safe. 

You turn quickly before you change your mind, blinking back tears that have no business forming. Behind you, Ari's scent shifts—the warm cinnamon notes turning ashen with grief.

A pain lances through your chest. It's not your pain—somehow you know it's his, radiating across the space between you. The sensation is overwhelming, a hollow ache that feels like what you've heard about bond-breaks, though he never claimed you. Your hand instinctively goes to your unmarked neck again.

"I'll wait for you," Ari calls after you, his voice steady despite the pain you both feel. "Not forever. But long enough."

You make it another mile before you have to stop, your breath coming in ragged gasps that have nothing to do with exertion. The pain in your chest hasn't subsided—if anything, it's grown stronger with each step you've taken away from him. Away from Ari. 

His name echoes in your mind like a prayer or a curse. Ari. Not just "the alpha" anymore. A person with a name and eyes that crinkle when he smiles and hands that had been so warm on your skin. 

You sink to the ground, back against a tree, and pull your knees to your chest. This isn't right. You've walked away from people before—survivors you'd met on the road, potential allies, even a beta who'd offered you shelter for a few nights. None of them had left this hollow feeling, this physical ache that radiates from your sternum to your fingertips.

But eventually you pick yourself back up and keep moving forward, one foot in front of the other, until the sound of his breathing fades behind you.

Three days later, you're huddled in an abandoned gas station, collecting a few liters of water and some sugary snacks from the back of the storeroom. The storm outside rattles the boarded windows, and you curse your stubbornness. There isn’t much here, but back at your shelter you only have enough food for maybe two more days. After that, you'll need to venture out again, risk exposure, risk encounters with raiders or worse.

You dream of him that night—of golden skin and rough but gentle hands, of safety and coffee and a bed that smelled like both of you. You wake up clutching your chest, an ache so deep it feels physical.

On the fifth day, the pain becomes impossible to ignore. You haven't eaten properly since you left him. Every time you try, your stomach revolts, rejecting even the simplest foods. It’s why you’d gone on a frivolous hunt for junk food - hoping some of the cheap indulgences from life before would tempt or distract you. But the hollow feeling in your chest has spread, becoming a physical weakness that makes your limbs heavy and your head foggy.

This isn't just heartache. This is something deeper, more primal.

You've heard stories of compatible pairs experiencing physical symptoms when separated, but those were just stories—romantic nonsense from before the world fell apart. And even if they were true, such connections took time to form, not a single night of desperate coupling.

"It's not a bond," you mutter to yourself, voice hoarse from disuse. "It can't be."

The rational part of your mind knows this is impossible. The emotional part—the omega part—whispers that maybe this is exactly what the old stories meant. Maybe some connections transcend logic, forming in a single moment of connection rather than over months or years.

You make it through one more night, curled around yourself as if you could fill the Ari-shaped void with your own arms. You fail.

By morning, your decision is made, though you're not sure if it's your mind or your body that finally decided. You gather your meager supplies, strap your knife to your belt, and begin the journey back.

The trek takes twice as long as it should. You stop frequently, resting, hiding, rationalizing, renegotiating the terms with yourself. 

Because you don’t know him. 

But you need to. 

🥺

I know.

I know, okay?!

Tough Omega is stubborn and afraid, and she's lost everyone else.

Commiserate with me and/or yell at me as necessary.

(But there's more in store for them.) next part: Surveillance and Surrender

↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

I do not do tag lists, but FOLLOW @buckets-and-stories and TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS to be updated any time I publish a new work!

[0nonjudgement0]

★Phillip Graves Headcannons★

~Reader as his s/o~

Content warnings: half fluff, half suggestive.

SFW

♤ You will put on some pounds while dating him. It's inevitable. This mans got an appetite and he quells it through fishing, hunting, barbecuing, and frying. There's always a tub full of hush-puppies in his home at all times, with a nice gallon of sweet tea in the fridge.

♤ Contrary to popular belief, Phillip is not bigoted. (Just because a character is Southern or rural does not automatically mean they are buffoons and hateful. That is a classist stereotype that keeps farmers, poor people, and many others seen as inhuman, therefore “justifying” the reason that they are exploited) I mean, from what I could find, he grew up near/around Dallas. That is a majority minority city.

I believe he does that tight-lipped frown he does whenever someone says something he disagrees with.

♤ Is verrrryyyy touchy. Like, he doesn’t just have his hand on your hip, oh no. His arm is around your waist, squeezing so close to his side, sneaking a kiss whenever he can. His hold is tight. Nobody doesn’t know your his.

♤ He put a ring on it immediately. Tried to in the first few months, even. He already knew whether you liked silver or gold, what cut you wanted, and what other gem/crystal you liked besides diamond to get them both together. When you said it wasn’t a good idea, he gave you a ring with you and his birthstone on it… and diamond, with the top quality metal. He kept the other ring anyway, even if he didn’t propose right then.

NSFW

♤ Missionary all the way. He’s a bit old-fashioned, finds anything else a showy and fake, sticking to the classics. If you insisted on something else, he’d stay stuck to you like glue if he couldn’t see your face, being extra gentle.

♤ With the whole gaining a few pounds thing, he prefers some meat on your bones. If you don’t have much, he’ll make sure to offer some more rolls and add a little more butter to the pan. He was ecstatic the day he saw a little more of your ass peeking out of your underwear. He almost came in his

♤ Worshipping. Worshipping, worshipping, worshipping. That’s what sex is to him, showing mutual appreciation and affection towards the other. But he’s always been so used to giving it that if you ever did it to him, he wouldn’t know what to do. Probably be twitchy and flushed like a tomato, jerking and flinching at any touch.

♤ Like a teenage boy. His sex drive is truly wild. He will be exhausted and tired and his whole body hurting and he will still be trying to crawl between your legs. Needs it, like air. Even if he is fucked-out, he will just fall on top of you and grind slowly. Happy wife, happy life as they say.

♤ With being touchy, that does not stop at just a firm arm around you. Has no problem smacking your ass in front of everyone. Hell, you should expect it if you wear any tight pants. Sitting on his lap? He’s got his head laying on your chest, rubbing up and down your thighs, the edge of his fingers slipping ever so slightly past your panties. Standing in front of him? Hands to hips like thors hammer, your back directly against his chest. Cold? He’ll warm you up. Meet him in the bathroom.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Death Wish 3

Warnings: non/dubcon, mentions of crime, violence/abuse and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: mob!Bucky Barnes

Part of the mob drabbles au

Summary: you’re desperate for a way out of your life and you ask a powerful man for help (plus!reader)

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

Photo Inspo

The time when your father is out of the house is always the most peaceful. All the same, the anticipation of his return keeps you on edge. You never really know when he’ll be back. He could be gone for days at a time or only a few hours. With news of his new out-of-town assignment, you can at least breathe for a moment. 

He leaves without a goodbye. The word sentimental has never been used in the same vicinity as your father. You and your sisters watch him go, less forlorn than you may appear. Relief washes over you as the door closes. 

“Can we go shopping now?” Adrienne asks. She’s the youngest at eighteen. 

“We should,” you say. “Kitty, you have the money?” 

“In my purse,” the eldest assures you. Kitty, thought your mother always insisted on her full name, Katherine, is almost thirty and wears it plainly. “More than enough.” 

“We should try to buy extra in case he waits again,” you say. 

“Yeah, you always are the most practical.” 

“Can we go to the bakery?” Adrienne asks. Mr. Mulano gave me some money the other day for helping her air out her townhouse. You wouldn’t imagine the dust. I still have a rash.” 

“If you have the money,” Kitty resigns. 

“I do and I want to spend it on us. We’ll get canolis. They were always ma’s favourite.” 

You give a glum smile. Kitty is the most like your mother. The sweetest. Always thinking of others. And she looks like her too. It’s probably why you and Adrienne get in front of her when the storm starts or even why your father doesn’t tend to go after her as much as you. 

And she took your mother’s death the hardest. You grieve more for the life she lived than the life that she lost. She had a monstrous husband and three helpless daughters. She spent her days scrounging despite having a made man and was battered to the bone in trying to protect what little she had. When she died, there was no shield left between you and your father’s temper. 

“Yes, let’s go to the bakery,” you agree. “I’ll pay for coffee. I have some change in my purse.” 

You get dressed in a carefully picked outfit. It’s warm out but you wear a long-sleeved white blouse. You balance it with a tea-length beige skirt. The shirt covers the bruises mostly, though you have to blend a bit of makeup around your neck and your face as always is painted to hide the darker spots. Not much can be done for the split in your lip. 

You go out and the sunshine feels warmer than usual. That shadow still looms. His shadow. No, not your father’s. Barnes’. You’re as embarrassed as you are terrified. Why did you do that? Your father? Dead? You must have seemed so naive. That’s not how it works. 

You shrug it off and go about your day. It’s a rare occasion that you can just enjoy being with your sisters. You do the shopping first. You fill the cart with all you need, and a few extra staples just in case, then go to the bakery. 

Nova is always busy and for good reason. They have more than just coffee cakes and pastries. They have a full sit-in deli and coffee roasted in Sicily. 

You offer to sit with the cart as Kitty and Adrienne stand in line. Kitty wants to look at the delicately iced specials through the glass and Adrienne wants to be sure she only gets decaf. You’re all too happy to have a seat. 

You sit with one hand on the cart and the other on your purse. You look down at the worn leather. The brown bag was your mothers. You didn’t get a lot of what she left behind. Your father threw most of it out, though you know he hawked her jewelry when he got his new car. As much as he proclaims his love for her, he doesn’t show it otherwise. 

The bell above the door rings amidst the buzz of the closed space. They’ll have to open the windows soon to let the heat escape. You glance over carelessly at the new entrance. You snap up straight as your eyes meet the bright blue ones. As if looking for you, the boss finds you, a calm, unreadable expression beneath his dark beard. 

You stare back at him and squeeze the strap of the purse. He fixes his tie and nods his head at you. Your lashes flick in surprise. Then, he faces the horde as they start to quiet. Those ahead of him take notice nd hush, stepping aside to let him through. 

Kitty gasps as Adrienne grabs her arm and moves her away from the front of the line, giving up their turn for the mafioso strutting toward them. He stops before he reaches the counter. The entire place watches. 

“Go on, ladies,” he insists, “it’s on me.” 

You blink and shrink back against the metal frame of the chair. Your sisters don’t move at first and when they do, they use the same caution as when your dad’s huffing and puffing in the corner. They speak to the cashier in low tones and turn to Barnes. They thank him with their hands clutched. 

He placidly puts in his own order and digs out his wallet. The cashier tries to wave him off but he insists. You only catch a few words from your vantage. 

He gets his coffee first and box of pastries. You never imagined him having much of a sweet tooth. The sight of this deadly man in his dark suit in this place is absurd. He doesn’t come to collect the protection fee, men like your father do. No, he’s there for a coffee and dessert. At least, you can’t believe that it would be for any other reason. Especially not you 

It can’t be. 

He turns and struts out without a look back. You stare after him as a low murmur crawls through the bakery. You peek through the window as he passes. His blue eyes glint in your direction and his cheek dimples. Your world is small, too small for coincidences. You’re starting to think there’s more going on than just a job out of town. 

[changisworld]

Skz biggest kinks & pleasures (maknae line)

18+,MDNI, I’m not putting smut warnings as a surprise for readers but it’s all just smut, don’t read if underage

ONLY CONTENT WARNING ILL GIVE IS ONE OF THE KINKS HAVE PISS!!!

Word count;3,335

©ANY translation, copy & paste, posting of my work is strictly forbidden for ANY posts/ writing i post.

main masterlist here

hyung line version here

**this is not proofread so sorry for any errors x**

HAN JISUNG: COCK & BALL TORTURE

I genuinely cannot imagine Han having a dominant bone in his body & also cannot ever imagine this guy being 'vanilla' in the SLIGHTEST!! Whenever you guys have sex, he is always shaking, whining & drooling absolutely everywhere & he hasn't got a single bit of shame.

You both experimented sexually within the first three times you slept together. You have both experimented with vibrators, strap-ons, handcuffs, wax etc & it did the trick.. until it didn't. Han could orgasm from these things, don't get me wrong, but since he had gotten 'used' to these things, he hadn't gotten bored or anything but you could sense he wanted more now.

You have just put the small stick candle onto the bedside table after letting it drip onto his abs & perky pecs as he is handcuffed to the bedpost, his face red as he squirms slightly, humming as the wax dries into his skin, cooling down.

You settle in between his legs before crawling up his small frame, your knees touching his balls as you kiss him (full of tongue & spit obviously) when your knee moves & puts a lot of pressure on his poor, filled balls & he squeals into his mouth. You instantly move your knee & sit up, both of your eyes wide, but for different reasons.

You are scared in case you genuinely hurt him as you look down at the site, but you then notice an even bigger puddle of precum on his lower stomach, his cock twitching & jumping as he blushes, boba eyes staring at the same thing you are.

"Did you like that Hannie?" you question, voice raising at the end, not wanting to do something & scare him. His mouth opens but he stutters for a few seconds. "Uhh, I-I don't know, it's new" he word vomits out, cheeks & ears getting more impossibly red as he looks into your eyes, trying to see your reaction.

You hum at his response before your hand reaches down & you take his balls into your hand before squeezing them, not too hard but there is still force behind it which makes him hiss as his hips jerk up, his cock dribbling at the tip which makes you chuchkle.

"My baby likes having his balls hurt, hmm? what about your pretty penis too, Hannie?" you question as you put more pressure on his balls as you flick the head of his cock a few times, making him thrust his hips as he tries to escape but also get more of the feeling. He nods enthusiastically, tilting his head to hide his reactions as much as he can despite handcuffs making him unable to use his arms to cover his face.

You don't like the way he is hiding his pretty reactions so you slap his dick with the back of your hand which makes his head jolt back to its original position, making you smirk. "Tell me if it's too much, mkay? Sit pretty f'me." you tell him, joking since you know he's not going anywhere. You get off the bed & dig through the bedside drawer & return holding a small cock ring, much tighter than any other one you have both tried, never having the right moment to try it.. until now.

You straddle his thighs, you slowly grind to feel friction as you struggle due to how much the man beneath you is hissing & squirming around but eventually roll the cock ring down to the bottom of his shaft, it beginning to turn a dark reddish/ purple colour almost instantly which makes you both drool, only hans drool actually leaves his lips.

You lean over & begin kissing his soft lips as you begin to lightly dig your nails into his cock as you drag it up & down, digging harder the closer to the tip you get. He struggles to kiss you back & loud but muffled whines escape his lips, his hips jolting & his cock twitching uncontrollably. "P-pinch my b-balls y/nnie, pu-pulease" he begs, hair almost blocking his view due to how much it's sticking to him. "You're so dirty Hannie, so slutty." you remark before beginning to kiss his neck as you do as he asks, sucking a few hickies into his neck as you begin pinching his full balls before slapping them, then repeating the motion & you're convinced you can orgasm from his noises alone.

His bottom lip is the same colour as his cheeks now from all the nibbling on it he has been doing, his eyes watering & his cheeks getting stained from the tears, not even having one thought in his head anymore, which you notice.

You sit up as his legs begin thrashing around, shaking as you use your other hand to start flicking the tip of his cock, residue sticking to your fingers coming from the area as you start to pinch in a rougher way, twirling the skin in your hands as you look at Jisung, in his own world.

"This is all it took to get you all floaty? You're so weird for enjoying this, you're seriously gonna cum from getting your dick slapped?" you laugh as you ask him, not actually meaning what you're saying seeing since you could probably fill a glass with your own juices you're that turned on. You admire Han, not even expecting an answer, drool puddling the pillow as more drool is drying into his chin, just to have even more drool cover it, his cheeks soaked with tears & also sweat.

You put his entire cock in your hand as you tighten your hand around it as much as you can & he lets out a squeal as you begin jerking him off & despite his cock literally purple because of the cock ring, you are convinced the cock ring didn't do a good job as he cums in record time, it spurting out ropes of it all over your hand & his tummy, him rattling the handcuffs, trying to get away from the sensation as his eyes completely roll back, panting heavily.

You let him ride out his high & you quickly remove the cock ring, trying to not overstimulate him too much since its the poor babys first time experiencing this before you lick the cum off his tummy to avoid having to leave him before crawling beside him & letting him nuzzle his face into your chest, before falling asleep almost instantly.

FELIX: MARKING

Nothing turns Felix on more than being able to have a constant reminder you belong to each other & what better way to show one another off when you're not together than having a hickey or two on your necks?

I can't be 100% sure if he enjoys giving or receiving them more but if i had to pick one, I'd say he enjoys giving them more seeing since he has more freedom to choose wherever he wants, unlike you seeing since he is still an idol, meaning you need to be way more cautious which makes him sad since he would do anything to have loads of hickies littered all over his neck.

You are straddled on top of Felix as your lips are locked together as your lips are locked together & he is playing with your puffy clit. You are grinding against his fingers as your eyebrows are furrowed together, letting out small gasps as his fingers are working like magic.

"Fefe, inside, pretty please." you mumble through kisses & who is he to deny you? He slides his ring finger inside your wet walls as he prods around a bit to find the gummy spot & despite him having short fingers, he is good with them & only takes a few seconds to find it & as he does, he slides a second finger inside too, rings touching your lips which makes you twitch due to the coldness.

You start whimpering & you break the kiss & start to grind against his fingers as you clench around him, making him swallow deeply. He takes this opportunity to begin kissing your jawline & working his way down as he helps you work yourself towards the first of probably very many orgasms.

His lips suction to your neck as he lets his teeth take a few playful bites which make you twitch from the slight tickle, making you giggle a bit which he returns. He litters some kisses around the left side of your neck before lightly pushing your head so he can access the right size before doing the same thing.

He begins to suck on your neck, humming at the light scent of the perfume you put on earlier in the day & also because of the taste of your skin, you both think he's addicted to it.

Your fingers wiggle their way into his hair as you lightly push at his head, somehow wanting him even closer to your neck as you melt further into him if that is even possible.

You can feel his teeth grazing every once in a while against your skin which makes you leak even more arousal as you tense up as your orgasm washes over you, Felix holding onto your waist to keep you from falling off his lap due to the amount your legs are wobbling on each side of him.

Once you come down from your orgasm, Felix slips his fingers out of you & you guide his hand up to your mouth before sucking your own juices off of him as he smirks at your reddened face, admiring it.

"So pretty f'me aren'cha babe? Made you a new necklace too, want you to give me some on my thighs, princess. pleeeaaasseee" he flutters his eyelashes to you as he give you his iconic beautiful smile. You hum a 'yes' response before you're sliding off of him, legs still a bit like jelly as you pull his sweatpants down, him raising his hips to make it easier for you, pulling his boxers down too with them.

You begin to jerk him off slowly as you kiss his balls & thighs before you begin nibbling on them playfully, before giving him the same, dark purple marks he just gave you as he lets out hums of approval, giving you butterflies.

SEUNGMIN: PISS

The reason you & Seungmin have always got on well sexually is because of how much you both have in common when it comes to kinks & how much you both love to explore together, & that is how you both eventually found out how hot you both find piss to be during sex. It started off with how much & how dying he was to help you squirt & it just developed from there.

Seungmin is laying on his back with his head on the pillows of your shared bed as you are sitting on his face (another one of his biggest pleasures is eating pussy while barely being able to breath because duh) grinding against him as his tongue is working its magic, pushing you towards your second orgasm within the last five minutes.

You are whimpering out above him, pulling on his hair to get him impossibly closer to your dripping core as his hands have a firm grip on your ass cheeks, fondling them in his fingers as he tongue fucks you.

"Min-Minnie, g'na cum." you push the words out as the feeling begins to bubble over, but before it has a chance to fully do so, he removes his tongue & pushes your hips up so you're now hovering above his face as you basically scream from the frustration as you can feel the almost orgasm dissapearing again.

"You know what I want before I let you cum, baby. Don't be so nervous, we both want it, mkay? Wanna taste you as much as possible. You deserve to let go, so good for me all the time." he says to you in a soft tone as he gives your ass cheek a small slap before letting you sit back on his face.

Despite everything you have tried together, pissing on him has always made you shy, but he always reassures you before, during & after.

He begins to suckle on your clit this time, slurping up all your juices as his spit mixes with it. He lets out small moans & grunts at your taste as one of his hands leave your ass to come around to your lower stomach before he begins prodding at it & putting pressure on it, hinting at you what he truly wants.

You try to hold off for a little while longer but the added pressure makes it impossible & you let go. Your golden stream begins to dribble out of you & straight into Seungmins mouth & face, making him moan at the taste of you, but he can tell you're holding back. He bites your clit & you yelp before your piss begins to spray out, making him hum in satisfaction.

Your moans get twice as loud as they were a minute or so prior as you see your piss now soaking his face & towel beneath you, along with his hair now getting wet, the same as your fingers since they are still weaved through it & your orgasm hits you like a car. Your legs shake around his head as your stream & also orgasm comes to a stop.

Your breathing is erratic as you take deep breaths, hair stuck to your now shiny face. "Such an angel for me y/n" he breathes out, panting as he helps reposition you so you're now on the only dry patch of the bed as he leans in & kisses you, your orgasm & piss soaked all into his chin & cheeks. You taste yourself on his tongue & it makes you moan quietly.

Your hand worms its way down into his boxers but you can feel a big wet, sticky patch which makes you break the kiss & look down & the result makes you chuckle. "You came in you underwear for me Seungmin? I'm honoured." he 'tuts' before beginning to blush. "You expected me to be able to hold off when you just did that to me? You're insane." he murmurs before kissing your neck while playing with your hair.

JEONGIN: OVERSTIMULATION

Is this any surprise at all.. HAVE YOU SEEN HIS FINGERS? they're made for pleasure i swear, they're so long & just hkvedbvbv. I feel like poor Innie is still a bit too nervous to try anything too 'taboo' or 'out there' but the things you have both agreed & have tried together, you both love.

You're on the bed laying on your back as his fluffy hear & gorgeous face is between your thighs for the third separate time that day. He is making out with your clit sloppily as he has three fingers buried inside you, scissoring in & out of your leaky opening, driving you towards your second orgasm from just this session alone & to say you're a moaning mess is an understatement.

You're uncontrollably squirming on the bed & your legs are thrashing around as you're babbling random swear words & his name as but he is keeping you grounded by having a firm grip on your pelvis with his free hand as your fingers are pulling on his pretty locks.

"Innie, gonna cum again." you whimper out as your back arches off the bed as your eyes roll to the back of your head, your pussy not getting a break even for a second as Jeongins fingers keep pistoning in & out of you & his tongue simply swallows your juice & orgasm while continuing the same pace.

Your orgasm fades but the sensation doesn't. If anything, it intensifies as the over sensitivity takes over, which makes you begin to hiss & grumble. "Too-too much Innie." you pant as your fingers do their best to pull his hair & face out from your dripping hole. "Cmon, y/nnie.. you've only orgasmed twice today, can't even just take one more, hmm?" he questions, knowing you can't say no. You've already orgasmed twelve times today & you both know this but he knows you'll do anything to please him.

You give a weak nod & he gives you a cheeky smile before diving straight back in, fingers speeding up & him taking your swollen bud back into his mouth, suckling on it before moving down to make out with your other set of lips. Your squeals are bouncing off each wall in the house no doubt & your third orgasm of the past twenty minutes washes over you as you begin trembling & shaking so much Innie decides to take pity on you & unlatches himself as he gives your swollen pussy a small slap.

You are in the middle of trying to get your breath back as Jeongin grabs a pillow & places it next to you before moving you so you're hips are now resting on it & your ass is facing upwards.

"spread your legs a bit for me, hunny. You can take it, can't you? I'm so hard for you y/nnie." he groans out as he jerks himself off behind you as he helps you move your legs just enough so he can slot himself in between as he spits onto his cock for extra lube as he drags the tip of his cock up & down your burning sensitive folds, making you hiss.

He begins pushing in & the hair gets caught in your chest as he bottoms out, releasing an animalistic groan. Once he feels you clench around him a few times, he begins to start a sharp pace & you begin to bite the duvet to try silence your screams.

His long cock hits the same G-spot that his fingers have been abusing all day & it makes you yelp as you reach back & push your hand against his pelvis, trying to stop him from going as deep but he quickly yanks your wrist away before holding it against your lower back as he leans over you, back to chest as he moves your hair out of your face to kiss your cheeks as he keeps fucking into you.

"I-innie too- too much, too big, s-slow down." You whimper as your eyes scrunch closed, trying your best to hold on as much as you can to give Jeongin the chance to orgasm. "You can do it hunny, just stop running from it n take it mkay? You're clenching so tight around me y/n, so good." You get all flustered & get butterflies in your belly at his words & you keep whining as your toes begin curling as your now forth orgasm hits you & Jeongin lets out a deep moan as he cums too after feeling how tightly you clench around him & you feel the warm liquid fill you which makes your orgasm go that extra bit further.

You both lay like this for a minute, catching your breath back before he pulls out & you let out a deep sigh. Jeongin begins to move off of you but you reach & take him by the arm & using the rest of your strength to pull him back down. "stay like this, you're like a big weighted blanket." you mumble out, eyes feeling as heavy as rocks.

Jeongin chuckles before kissing your cheek but getting off you regardless & shuffling down back to your pussy, looking at the cum dripping out along with your slick. "I'll have my dinner first then we can cuddle as long as you want, jagi, okay?" he giggles before sticking his tongue out & beginning to kitten lick your pussy again. You knew this is a long night.

[jinx-xxed]

Broken Bones

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆ .。.:*

A/N; Just a quick thing because I couldn’t get this scene out of my head 🤕 also an important note; when it says the rifle can fold think Caitlyn Kiramman’s gun from Arcane S1 because I think it was so cool and I’m obsessed with that mechanic 🙏

Summary; Some new guys think it’s a good idea to try and threaten you.

Content; Harassment, vague threats of sexual assault, you’re an inventor/mechanic, your weapon is a rifle, blood and injury, (subtle) protective Wriothesley

Wc; 2k

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆ .。.:*

You blow out a breath, leaning back from your work. The metal on the pipe glows red hot before beginning to cool, securely welded in place. Another successful pipe swap finished, which means this sector of the Fortress is done and you can cross it off your long list.

You hang in the air, suspended high above the ground by harnesses and ropes. It’s a new thing you tested out in order to reach the higher piping and mechanics within the Fortress, and it’s been working beautifully. Wriothesley nearly had a heart attack when he first saw you suspended hundreds of feet in the air, but you assured him you were fine. It turned out to be fun once you got used to it, sitting above everything else in the Fortress and getting lost in your work. You secure your blow torch to your belt, lifting your goggles to properly inspect the welding. You run your gloves along the pipe, testing its stability and making sure everything will hold.

You tasked yourself with replacing a bunch of the major piping within the Fortress, finding it would provide better energy conservation and also faster energy transfers. Wriothesley was all for it, letting you take the lead on the project and trusting your judgement. You have two more areas left to complete, each one taking about a day to finish.

Once satisfied with your inspection, you begin to lower yourself to the floor by loosening the ropes and using your feet on the wall to control your speed. You hit the metal safely, a soft breath escaping you with relief. You’re always just a little paranoid that a rope will snap and leave you to splat on the floor like a bug.

You start detangling yourself from all your equipment, placing your tools carefully in your bag and undoing the harness. You finally wriggle out of it when you hear footsteps behind you. You turn, expecting to find Wriothesley coming to inspect your work but instead see three unfamiliar, male faces. You instantly straighten, brows furrowing slightly. This area of the Fortress is mostly empty and unused; they have no reason to be in these tunnels.

“Can I help you, sirs?” You ask, voice holding a cold bite to it. You don’t recognize any of them so you can only assume they’re fairly new inmates. Their eyes are unfriendly, their expressions unreadable. They’re all taller than you, with only one seeming to have decent muscle mass.

The one at the head of the pack shrugs, sniffing. “Dunno, maybe. Are you the one that’s real buddy-buddy with His Grace?” The way he says Wriothesley’s title is mocking and it instantly lets you know what their intentions are.

“I hear they’re more than just buddies.” The second one snickers.

The first nods, a slimy smirk on his face. “Right, right. She’s his plaything, huh? You’re too cute to be with a stupid bastard like him.”

You glower as they continue to get closer. “Do you actually need something or did you come here just to be fucking weird?”

“You could probably give us something, yeah. We want benefits, princess, and you’re gonna get ‘em for us from your manwhore.” He continues. They’re fully in your space now with your back an inch from the wall and them pacing around you like sharks. “Better meals, days off from the factory, coupons. Maybe even some time with you, huh?” The other two chuckle along with him.

His eyes and uneven teeth glint in the dim lighting. “Life’s too hard down here for newbies like us. Surely you can find it in your heart to agree. All you gotta do is ask, princess. And if you don’t…” He shrugs again, considering the alternative. You catch the glint of a knife on the second one and you wonder where in the hell he got that. The guards should’ve frisked him, they should’ve caught it. Although, when you take another look, it seems to be a piece of rusty old metal sharpened into something deadly and stuck onto a piece of wood. Hell, it might even be a chunk from the pipes you’d been taking out.

“If you can’t handle simple prison life then you’re just massive wimps. Wriothesley is more than gracious in his rule down here and you should be grateful he gives scum like you anything at all.” You snap, glaring harshly. “Although don’t count on having anything left after this.”

The main guy scoffs in disbelief. “Oh, please. I can see His Grace hasn’t done anything about your mouth yet. Guess you need a real man to do that, right? Should we send you back with something to remember us by?”

He reaches towards you. He makes to grab your wrist, to pin you against the wall and do whatever he wants.

He never gets the chance. Not before there’s a resounding, sickening crack through the metal tunnel and he’s laid flat on the floor. You hold your rifle backwards in your hands, having just slammed the steel butt of it into the guy’s jaw hard enough to break bone. It had been folded and attached to the back of your belt, ready to come out at a moments notice. You press your lips together as you bring it down again directly on his nose, blood spurting from the pure, angry force behind it as he gives you a nice scream.

You flip your rifle in your hands and shoot it all in one smooth motion, the makeshift knife then flying out of the second man’s hand. You point the barrel at the other two, your eyes ablaze as they look at you with true fear, their hands going up. You motion from the one on the floor to the others. “Take your piece of shit friend and leave. Don’t let me ever catch you trying this again.”

They oblige, quickly forcing the one up while his shattered nose bleeds profusely down his front and he groans. Your gun follows them the entire time, your finger resting on the trigger. They leave in a panic, muttering something like “crazy bitch” as they do.

Once they’re out of sight and you can no longer hear their footsteps, you release a shuddering breath. You didn’t realize how bad your hands were shaking until now, and it makes you clutch your gun a little tighter. You’re surprised it’s taken this long for someone down here to try and use you to get at Wriothesley, honestly. You suppose the newbies haven’t been taught to fear you just as much as the Duke yet.

You swallow thickly, folding your rifle and putting it safely back on your belt. You quickly stuff the rest of your tools into your bag, slinging it over your shoulder and hurrying out of the tunnel. You do your best to ignore the blood spatter on the floor and on the toe of your boot.

» ☆ «

You flinch when there’s a knock on the door of your office. It startles you out of the trance you’d been in, engrossing yourself with the newest project on your work table. You don’t even need to get up to see who it is because the door opens anyway, revealing Wriothesley. He promptly shuts it again after stepping into your office. You pause your music and lift your goggles, looking at him expectantly.

He leans against the side of your table, arms crossed over his wide chest. “Heard you shattered someone’s nose today?” He asks lightheartedly, the corners of his lips upturned.

You sigh through your nose, shutting your eyes briefly. You knew he’d find out sooner rather than later, which is why you’d been hiding out in your work shop. “I know I shouldn’t have. I took it too far, I’m sorry-“

The amusement immediately drops from Wriothesley’s face, his brows furrowing. He laughs in disbelief. “What? No, no, that’s not what this is. I don’t give two shits about those guys. I think you should’ve shot them, honestly.” He spits. He takes a deep breath to calm himself, then looking at you earnestly. “I just want to know if you’re okay.”

You nod. “Yes, I’m fine. They didn’t touch me. They just threatened me.”

He hums in thought. “What happened down there? I want to hear it from you, not those idiot fuckers that cried wolf when I paid a visit to the infirmary.”

“Well, I was doing work on the pipes and I had just finished when I heard someone coming into the tunnel. I thought it was you at first, but I saw them instead. I didn’t recognize them so I figured they were new. They were aware of my relationship with you and decided to try to use me to get you to give them benefits, like better Welfare meals and coupons and stuff. They tried to put me against the wall and the one tried to grab me and that’s when I broke his nose.” You explain. “Oh, and the bigger one had some kind of makeshift knife. Don’t know where he got it or how he made it but I shot it out of his hand.”

Wriothesley stares at the wall, hand idly placed over his mouth, thinking things over in his mind. Theres a long pause before he finally shakes his head, a frustrated sigh leaving him. “I had a feeling those three would be trouble.” He mumbles before looking at you. “You did good, sweetheart. I’m glad you protected yourself. I’m sorry you had to deal with that bullshit.” One of his hands cups your cheek, the familiar cold of his rings soothing.

“It’s okay, it’s not your fault.” You say, leaning into his touch as his thumb rubs back and forth across your skin.

“You say that, but it is, technically.” He responds, remorse glistening in his eyes. No matter what you tell him, you know he’ll blame himself for whatever trouble befalls you in the Fortress. He thinks that since it’s his domain, he should be able to control what happens entirely—but nobody’s that powerful, especially in a land of criminals. “From now on, I’m sending a guard with you when you work on the pipes.” You start to protest but he cuts you off. “It’ll make me feel better. I know you can handle yourself but I’d rather avoid it coming to that if we can.”

“Fine, I guess.” You mutter and he smirks, leaning down to kiss your pouty lips.

He pulls away but just barely, your faces inches apart as he studies you to the point it makes you squirm. “Why didn’t you come to me?” He asks at last.

You fidget with your hands, debating your answer. “I just… I don’t know.. I guess- I guess I just thought it wasn’t a big enough deal. I’d handled it… somewhat.”

He straightens with a huff, hands resting leisurely on his hips and looking down at you. It vaguely makes you feel like a child getting scolded. “Anything’s a big deal when it concerns you. Next time come to me, alright? I need to know about these things, and I’d rather hear it from you than from some lowlifes. Agreed?”

You nod in defeat. “Agreed.”

“Good. Now, it’s late and you’ve had a long day, so you should go back to our room and get some sleep, hm?” He says, tilting your head up with a gentle hold on your chin. “I have some business to take care of but I’ll join you as soon as I can.”

You narrow your eyes at him, having a feeling you know what “business” he means but he merely smiles at you, always refusing to show his hand, even when it’s you. He walks back to his office with you, stopping at the door to give you a kiss on your forehead before you go your separate ways.

Those three men are about to have a very, very bad night.

[bunnis-monsters]

I remember venting about being upset that the fanfic series I put a lot of time and effort into wasn’t doing well on my anime account. It was pretty popular in the fandom, and everyone requested that I bring it back and continue it, so I did.

After posting it, something people had been pestering me and begging me for, it preformed terribly, which really killed my motivation. I posted a short vent, upset that it didn’t do well like my other posts did.

Do you know what the response to my vent was? People sent me asks saying I was being dramatic and ungrateful, that if I just kept posting the series and didn’t stop that it would still be popular.

I had taken a break from that series for mental health reasons(I was receiving death threats and being harassed) when before I had been pumping out chapters nearly weekly. Still, all that content, over 100k+ words of material wasn’t enough to keep them interested. They always wanted more, the threat of people leaving or unfollowing me if I didn’t post faster looming over my head like a dark cloud.

Writing became a chore. I didn’t view my readers as friends and comrades in my fandom, I viewed them as people that would leave the second I didn’t live up to their strict expectations.

This is all to say that I want you, the readers, to think about the author behind the works you read and love. Think about WHY you think it’s feasible for a person to be uploading every single week without a break. Why do you lose interest if an author isn’t working themselves to the bone to pump out chapters that could have been so much better if given the time to really flesh them out?

Be kinder to writers, be patient. We aren’t machines, and it takes time for us to make the content you want to see. Don’t rush us, and be grateful for all the free content you get to see with just a click or tap.

Don’t be the reason an author decides to give up writing.

[miupow]

I need more crave beomgyu thoughts so bad. He’s so scary but fine 😭😩. Imagine him cumming and breeding you for hours using you like a sex toy and not letting any of the other members join at all. He’s not going to admit but he’s secretly grown a soft spot for you himself

i couldn't stop myself...

CRAVEVERSE ; werewolf!beomgyu headcanons ⭑𓂃

cw ⸝⸝ sfw + nsfw hcs .ᐟ werewolf!bg (and werewolf!rest of txt) , fem!reader , no dark content warning for these hcs but general dark content warning for crave as an au lol. breeding kink, knotting, unprotected sex, possessive behavior, creampies, dirty talk, general craveverse nastiness

SFW ;

-> middle child syndrome crave!gyu who is always arguing with his brothers about the dumbest, littlest things lol. especially soobin and yeonjun he loves pissing them off

-> crave!gyu who is the packs baby so he can get away with being an absolute menace ! his brothers always there to defend him and tell you that “it’s just beomgyu, he doesn’t mean anything by it.. “ when he says something particularly nasty or pushes you around. just enabling him tbh

-> crave!gyu who secretly loves to be taken care of!! loves when you dote on him, play with his hair, mend his clothes and cook him meals, he turns into such a sweet puppy!! gets all blushy when you do something special for him or give him special attention <3 a little tsundere about it hehe

-> crave!gyu who has the best sense of smell in the pack, can track down scent trails like a bloodhound, can sense slight changes in a persons mood just by the way they smell. can always tell when you’re upset even when you’re hiding it!! and if he’s not the reason you’re sad,.. he will find out who is and he’ll make them regret it!! fully “no one is allowed to bully y/n except me!!!”

-> crave!gyu who enjoys collecting trinkets he finds in the woods or in the outskirts of human villages. pretty stones, antlers and bones, human items like spoons or can openers, reminds him of his childhood as a human (lore??) likes brining you little gifts he finds while telling you it’s definitely not because he’s thinking about you or anything. because you’re definitely not on his mind 24/7… but he found a very pretty flower on his walk and he wants you to have it.

-> crave!gyu who is touch starved beyond belief omg ,, can’t get enough of your touch once you give it to him. always wanting to cuddle, rest his shaggy head on your chest, have you run your fingers through his long messy hair. growls at the others when they try to take you away from him :3

-> crave!gyu who hides the fact that he’s jealous of the others because you trust them, are comfortable around them and not with him.. especially yeonjun. gets even more argumentative and disrespectful with him because of it.

-> overall crave!gyu who is a big sweet puppy beneath all of his hardships and defenses, gets broken down little by little until he just wants to love and be loved. he thought he would never trust a human again, would never learn to love one… but you are the only exception.

-> and finally crave!gyu who secretly wants more than anything for you to turn, join their pack as another wolf !! wants that connection with you that only the moon could give him.. you would be a proper pack then.

NSFW ; (under the cut!)

-> crave!gyu who has the roughest ruts of them all, a turned wolf instead of a blood one like his brothers are. (kai is technically only a half wolf but it’s uh. it’s a long story) he just gets so aggressive and violent , needs to be locked up like a prisoner otherwise he’ll destroy furniture, try to kill the others, keep you captive and not let anyone else near you !! especially can’t be around you … all he can think about is getting you away from the others and getting you full of his babies !

-> crave!gyu who insists that you’re just a disposable toy outside of rut but when he’s in rut, suddenly you’re his mate, his omega, his his his.

-> crave!gyu who won’t share you with anyone if he can have a say in it! who has to leave the farmhouse if you’re “with” one or more of his brothers because he just can’t stand to sit around and listen!!! you sound so pretty when you get knotted, that should be him dammit!!!!

-> crave!gyu who loves to leave nasty love bites all over your skin <3 down your neck, shoulders, especially your breasts and tummy!! never hard enough to hurt, but enough to bruise pretty purple so everyone can see~

-> crave!gyu who loves to spit the nastiest shit about his packmates when he’s breeding you good, he fucks you better than yeonjun does, doesn’t he? his cock hits deeper in your tummy than taehyuns does, huh? his knot is thicker than kais is, isn’t it? he satisfies you better than any of them could, right? chose him love him pick him omg (it’s a facade he’s very insecure)

-> crave!gyu who gets cuddly after he’s filled you up, likes to nuzzle into your neck and hold you close :( won’t let you go anywhere until he’s fallen asleep and you can slip away