#so he ignores it. forces it down and grows uncomfortable. who will do it if he doesnt. who will do it if he doesnt

[mqqqteor]

he hesitates. swallows down the building bile. locks eyes with a fading woman who will never be.

he hopes...

he hopes she exists. somewhere out there. gods know not here, but... somewhere. somewhere else. in some other universe, maybe. in pretty clothes, in a pretty face, in some other name. without the burden of 'cloud strife'.

he hopes shes happy.

[mattsfavoritestar]

SIT STILL, matt sturniolo

synopsis… you physically cannot stay still no matter how hard you try. your other friends are used to your high energy and usually don’t mind it, all except one. matt’s probably the only person who can get you to calm down. kinda.

warnings… puppy!reader, mean!matt, unprotected p in v (be smart🌚), cockwarming, little bit of a praise kink, little bit of nipple play, big dick!matt, orgasm denial

@bernardsbendystraws for the dividers <3

“i feel like my stomach hates me right now” nick groans. he laid back on to the couch with an uncomfortable look on his face as he rubbed his stomach over his shirt. “not gonna lie my tummy s’grumbling too,” chris says.

you were probably hungry as-well but your brain blocked out the dull ache as you were hyper focused on the movie playing in front of you. your leg bounced rapidly as your fingers curled tighter onto the couch cushion. matt rolls his eyes, “she’s not even paying attention, just go and i’ll ask her later,” he says.

it’s true. you weren’t paying attention. you heard shuffling from both sides of you before seeing nick and chris get up in your peripheral vision. a hand waved in your face causing you to snap out of the trance and look up at chris. “don’t piss him off too much, ‘kay?” he smiles. you return the toothy grin then turned back to the screen.

as the door shut, you felt eyes burning into the side of your head. matt scoffs before getting up and walking to his room. not even ten minutes pass before a commercial interrupts your movie causing you to slightly whine. you tried to entertain yourself with your phone but it didn’t last thirty seconds before you tossed it and groaned in boredom. you looked around the empty room then got up in search of matt.

as you creeped closer to his cracked door, you heard a string of profanity’s leave his lips. you slightly pushed the door open, widening the view of matt’s face being illuminated by his pc. “yeah we need a minute to like— chill for a sec,” he says.

you pushed the door open further with a smile on your face as you waltzed into his room. matt completely ignored your presence as he scrolled through the item shop, mumbling whatever lyrics were playing through his headphones. “whatcha doing?” you ask as you flatten your palms on his desk.

as you pushed your self closer to view his screen, you were unknowingly giving him a perfect view of your tits being smushed together. he lets out a small breathy chuckle as he takes a quick glance then returns his focus. a pout formed onto your face at the lack of attention. you move closer to matt then start pawing at his shirt before letting your fingers trail up to the nape of his neck.

your fingers danced between his curls gently then you found the sudden urge to yank a little too harsh. a groan falls from matt’s lips as his eyes squeeze shut as he let his head fall back. you let out a small giggle before you yelped as matt roughly pulls you into his lap. you felt his body heat on your back and the growing bulge that nestled right between your legs.

“so fucking annoying,” he mutters before going back to scrolling. you whined and squirmed as you tried to twist yourself to face him but all you did was cause his dick to harden and grow even more. a slap landed on your bare thigh. matt grips your jaw and forces your head to face him. “can you sit still for one god damn second?” he says.

“m’bored—“ you whined. matt tugs at your pouted lip with his thumb before releasing your face with a scoff. “so go finish the movie,” he replies. you let out a huff as you went back to squirming and eventually found yourself slightly bouncing. a deep groan rumbled through matt’s chest as his grip on the mouse grew tighter.

matt pushes you off him, “don’t wanna behave?”, he says, “strip”. you look at him through your wide eyes with excitement, if you had a tail it would’ve knocked over the things on his desk. matt watched you pull your clothes off as his eyes grew more dark. he slightly pulled his sweatpants down just enough to reveal his aching cock.

the second your panties were off, matt pulls you back on top of him. you hissed at the stretch but made no move to remove yourself. “that’s it, good— girl” he says in a low voice. you felt matt rub small circles on your skin in a comforting way as your tried adjusting to his size. “alright i’m back” you heard a voice say from his headset.

you tried to roll your hips but a firm grip on your waist prevented you from moving. “behave,” he says before unmuting his mic. matt acted as if you weren’t even there while he played his game. his character ended up getting shot causing him to thrust his hips deeply into you as he yelled at the screen. a mewl left your lips but you covered your mouth quickly, in fear of being heard.

“yo kid, you good?” you heard a voice say. matt glared down at you then gave you a tight squeeze before responding. you were trying so hard not to moan but every time matt jolted or shifted the slightest, he brushed against that spongy spot inside you. his hand traveled up to your tits, allowing his fingers to roll your sensitive nipples.

“matt–“ you whimpered. your chest rose and fell rapidly as the urge to move grew more prominent. a devilish smirk painted his face as he tugged and pinched. your warm walls pulsated, hugging his cock even more causing him to hiss in pleasure. your skin was sticky from your own arousal, a wet patch grew on matt’s sweatpants. you jutted your hips as your brain grew more fuzzy then stuffed your mouth with your fingers.

drool escaped down your hand as muffled moans and whines attempt to fall. you felt the vibration of matt’s laugh shoot straight to your core. “awe— poor puppy just wanted to be played with, yeah?” he coos. you nod your head as you let your hips rock faster with a tight pressure building by the second.

you dropped both your hands to the desk and curled your fingers in attempt to steady yourself. right as you were on the brink of your release, matt pulls you off him. you whined at the lost orgasm and tried to get back on him but his tight grip on your waist prevented you. “i said t’sit still, didn’t i?” matt says with a smirk.

[rafes-slut]

Are You Okay?

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Summary:

Rafe Cameron may have a tough exterior, but underneath it all, he cares deeply for you. When no one ever asked him if he was okay growing up, he makes sure to check in on you at every possible moment. Every glance, every touch, and every word is his way of saying he cares. In a world where no one ever asked Rafe if he was good, you become the one person he asks over and over. This fluffy story is about Rafe’s quiet, yet deep, care for you and how he always makes sure you’re okay—even when he’s struggling himself.

Warnings: Fluff, angst (in passing), emotional vulnerability

---

The first time it happens, you’re sitting on the couch in his house, scrolling through your phone, trying to find something to occupy your mind. Rafe sits next to you, his shoulder brushing yours. It’s quiet, the kind of peaceful silence that settles over you when you're with someone who means a lot.

"Are you good?" he asks, his voice soft but filled with a quiet intensity you can’t ignore.

You glance up, blinking at him in confusion. "Yeah, why?"

Rafe shrugs, his eyes avoiding yours for a second, like he’s uncomfortable asking. "Just... checking."

It hits you then—no one has ever asked him if he's okay. Not in the way he’s asking. It’s not the usual casual question most people throw around; it’s a deeper, quieter inquiry, one that carries with it the weight of unspoken things.

You smile softly, reaching out to give his hand a reassuring squeeze. "I'm good. Really."

He nods, but there’s something in his eyes that lingers—a hint of something unresolved. You know, deep down, it’s not just about you. It’s about him, too.

---

The next time it happens is the following week, after a long day of running errands together. You’re both in his truck, driving back to his place, the late afternoon sun casting a warm glow through the windows. You feel the familiar buzz of his energy, like he’s a little more on edge than usual.

As you sit beside him, trying to casually hum along to the music playing, you notice his hand twitching slightly on the steering wheel. The silence between you grows a little thicker.

"Are you okay?" you ask, breaking the quiet.

Rafe's gaze flicks to you, his jaw clenching briefly before he forces a small, tight smile. "I’m good."

You can tell it's not entirely true, but you don’t push him. Instead, you place a hand on his leg, a silent gesture of support. "I meant, are you okay?"

His shoulders drop slightly, and he exhales like he's been holding his breath for far too long. Then, without missing a beat, he glances at you, eyes searching your face. "Yeah, I just—" He shakes his head. "I don't know, sometimes I just wonder if I’m enough. For you, I mean."

You blink, your heart warming at his vulnerability. This isn’t something he’s used to sharing, and for a moment, it makes you feel special that he trusts you enough to admit it.

"You’re more than enough, Rafe," you say gently, squeezing his hand. "You’re everything to me."

And just like that, he visibly softens, his lips curving into a rare, sincere smile. "Thanks," he mutters, but there's something more in his eyes. Something that tells you he’s not just asking if you’re okay for you—he’s asking because he wants someone to ask him, too.

---

It becomes a habit over time. Rafe constantly checking in on you, in his own subtle way. Whether it’s asking if you’re good when you’re lost in thought or casually glancing over at you after a long day, he makes sure to take the time to make sure you’re okay.

But there’s something else, too. Something that makes your heart swell every time it happens.

One night, as you lie in bed, his arm draped over your waist, he mumbles into your hair. "You sure you're good?"

You laugh softly, tilting your head back so you can look at him. "Why do you always ask me that?"

Rafe meets your gaze, his eyes full of emotion you can’t quite place. "Because no one ever asked me. No one ever checked on me. But I’m asking you now. Every time."

You feel the lump in your throat, touched by his quiet need to be seen and heard. "I’m always good when I’m with you, Rafe. Always."

And as he pulls you closer, his face buried in your hair, you realize that in his own way, he’s asking you because he cares. Not just for you, but for himself, too. Because asking is his way of saying, “I’m here. And I’ll always make sure you’re okay.”

[mandoalorian]

brooklyn baby [bucky barnes x f!reader]

Pairing: Congressman!Bucky Barnes x Personal Assistant!Reader

Synopsis: Hiding out in your Brooklyn apartment, Bucky finally lets his guard down, opening up about his past and the ghosts that still haunt him. As they navigate their growing connection, the threat looming over them becomes impossible to ignore. When an old friend shows up with a plan, Bucky is forced to decide—stay in the shadows or fight back before it’s too late.

Word Count: 3100

Tags/warnings: 18+ explicit content. employer x employee, m!receiving oral, handjobs, riding, delayed gratification, edging, praise kink, you take care of your boss

Masterlist

prev chapter <3 | congress & carnality masterlist

The fallout from the airport fight spiralled faster than either of you could have imagined. The media had latched onto the image of Bucky punching the man to the ground, and within hours, every major outlet was dissecting it. The headlines were brutal.

“James Barnes: Hero or Menace?”

“Ex-Winter Soldier Loses Control—Again.”

“Congressman Barnes’ Violent Outburst Sparks Controversy.”

The press swarmed as soon as you landed. Paparazzi lined the exits, their cameras flashing like a relentless storm, and reporters shouted over one another.

“Congressman Barnes! Was the attack premeditated?”

“Do you think your violent history makes you unfit for office?”

“Who was the woman with you? A secret lover?”

“Will there be an investigation?”

The tension sat thick between you. The worst part? The whispers were growing. Bucky wasn’t just under scrutiny for the fight—someone was leaking information. Photos of the two of you together, too close in quiet moments, grainy images taken from a distance that suggested something more than professionalism. A calculated attack.

You scrolled through your phone, reading the latest articles.

“Sources close to Barnes reveal he’s been engaging in an unprofessional relationship with a member of his staff.”

“Anonymous insiders claim the Congressman has been seen getting intimate with his assistant behind closed doors.”

“A political scandal brewing?”

Your stomach twisted. “Bucky…” You hesitated, then turned your screen toward him.

He barely spared it a glance. “I know,” he muttered. “I saw it this morning.”

Your heart pounded. “Who’s doing this?”

Bucky exhaled slowly, running a hand over his face. “I don’t know. But I have a feeling.”

And then there was Tara. She had been oddly distant all morning—no witty remarks, no passive-aggressive jabs. Just silence. That alone made your skin crawl.

Bucky’s phone buzzed. He glanced at it, then cursed under his breath. “I need to call Sam.”

You frowned. “Sam?”

“If they think they can silence me, they’re wrong.” His expression darkened. “This isn’t just about the fight. It’s bigger than that. Someone’s trying to control me. And I won’t let them.”

You swallowed hard. “Bucky… what are you planning?”

He finally looked at you, his blue eyes stormy and determined. “I’m going to find out who’s behind this. And I’m going to bring them down.”

The drive back to Brooklyn was quiet, but not uncomfortable. After everything that had happened—the fight at the airport, the media storm, the looming threats—you were both exhausted. The city lights blurred past the car windows, and Bucky’s fingers twitched on his thigh as if itching to reach for you.

When the car finally pulled up in front of your apartment building, you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. Home. For now, at least.

Bucky followed you inside, scanning the surroundings like a soldier surveying new territory. He had been in your space before, but never like this—never in a way that felt so permanent, so inevitable.

“Make yourself comfortable,” you murmured, slipping off your coat. “I’ll get you something to drink.”

Bucky nodded but didn’t sit. Instead, he wandered over to the bookshelf near your window, eyes tracing over the spines of books and the small trinkets you had collected over the years.

“You’re a reader,” he noted, running his fingers along the edges of a few well-worn novels.

You smiled, handing him a glass of water. “Always have been. I used to spend hours at the library as a kid.”

He hummed, taking a sip. “Me too.”

That surprised you. “Really?”

Bucky leaned against the windowsill, a small, wistful smile playing at his lips. “Yeah. My ma worked long hours, so sometimes she’d drop me and Rebecca off at the library. I’d read anything I could get my hands on—adventure stories, war novels, even poetry.” He shook his head with a chuckle. “Steve always made fun of me for that one.”

Your chest warmed at the thought of a younger Bucky, lost in books, before the war, before everything. “I think that’s sweet. Rebecca is…?”

“My youngest sister,” Bucky answered, his lips curling into a small smile. “She lives up in Indiana, in a care-home. I try and visit when I can but, it’s a busy life. I think she’d like you, actually.”

The last part made your heart warm. You walked over to the Congressman, passing him a glass of neat whiskey. His favourite. “You have more than one sister?”

“I have— had— three sisters. Rebecca, Betty, and Winnie. Becca is the only one still with us. I was the older brother, always doing my best to take care of them. I taught them how to read, actually.” Bucky laughed fondly at the memory and took a swig of his drink. You gazed up at him, mesmerised. He had never opened up like this before, and it felt good to know he was this comfortable around you. 

“I bet you were the most wonderful big brother,” you said, rubbing your hand on Bucky’s shoulder soothingly. You felt the knots under his skin, the tension.

“I tried to be,” Bucky replied. “I miss my sisters all the time. When HYDRA kidnapped me, my sisters had to bury me. They believed me to be dead. In the fifties, Betty passed away from a short-lived illness, and in the seventies, we lost Winnie too. I never got the chance to see them again.”

You were lost for words. No person should have ever gone through something like that. You were beginning to understand now why Bucky’s campaigning was so important to him, and why he was so worried about a Super Soldier revival. 

“I think… I think I’d like to meet Rebecca one day. I’m sure she has some funny stories about her big brother.”

Bucky laughed. “I’d like for you to meet her too. She’s so important to me, you know?”

“Of course.”  You replied. 

“When I came back, got my freedom, I tracked her down. When she saw me, she thought she’d died and gone to heaven,” Bucky revealed, his blue eyes wide with sadness. “I got to learn all about the life she lived without me. Got herself a husband and had kids, then grandkids, a dog too. She named her son after me, actually. I used to long for that sort of thing. A family. But I guess the universe had other ideas.” Bucky glanced at you, his gaze softer now that he had shared that. “What about you? What was your childhood like?”

You hesitated for a moment before shrugging. “Not as interesting as yours, I’m sure. I moved around a lot. Never really had a place that felt like home until I came here.”

Bucky’s brow furrowed slightly. “You got family?”

You nodded. “Yeah, but we’re not close.”

He didn’t press, and you were grateful for that. Instead, he simply said, “Then this is home.”

Something about the way he said it made your throat tighten. Home was never a place for you, not when you moved about so much. You couldn’t afford to make a place a home, but that comfort and care and love that a home was supposed to give, you had found with Bucky. No matter if you were in his office, flying on his jet or in a Tokyo hotel room. Bucky felt like home.

You looked away, clearing your throat. “You hungry?”

Bucky smirked. “Depends. You offering to cook?”

You rolled your eyes. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, Barnes.”

But the teasing felt good. Normal. Like, despite everything, the world hadn’t completely spun off its axis.

Eventually, after sharing stories of childhood mischief and Brooklyn winters, you both ended up in your bedroom. The weight of the past few days, the exhaustion, the tension—it all melted away as you curled into each other.

Bucky’s hands were warm as they traced your spine, and his breath was steady against your neck.

“You tired?” he murmured.

You should have been. But with his body pressed against yours, sleep was the last thing on your mind.

“No,” you whispered, tilting your head to meet his gaze.

His eyes darkened. “Good.”

His lips were on yours before you could say another word, slow and deep, his tongue sweeping into your mouth as he rolled you onto your back. His hands wandered, exploring, claiming, but when his fingers brushed the hem of your sleep shorts, you pulled back.

“Let me,” you whispered, your hands already working at the waistband of his sweatpants.

Bucky’s breath hitched. “You don’t have to—”

“I want to.”

And God, you did. You had felt him before, had touched him, but you had never taken him in your mouth, never had the chance to make him fall apart beneath you.

Bucky swallowed hard, watching as you moved down the bed, your hands sliding his sweatpants and boxers down in one slow motion. His cock was already hard, thick and flushed, twitching slightly as the cool air hit him.

You licked your lips. “You’re so big…”

Bucky groaned, his head falling back against the pillows. “Fuck, sweetheart…”

You started slow, kissing the tip, licking a teasing stripe up his length. His fingers twitched at his sides, as if resisting the urge to grab your hair.

When you finally took him into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks and sucking him in deep, Bucky let out a strangled moan.

“Jesus—” His hand found the back of your head, his hips lifting slightly off the bed. “You’re gonna kill me.”

You licked a slow stripe up the underside of his cock, savouring the way he twitched under your tongue. The weight of him in your hand was heavy, thick, veins pulsing against your palm as you gave him a slow, deliberate stroke.

Bucky sucked in a sharp breath. “Fuck, baby…”

His voice was rough, edged with desperation, and it made you even wetter, the power of having him like this sending a thrill through your body. You flicked your tongue over the head, teasing the slit before wrapping your lips around him, hollowing your cheeks as you took him deeper.

Bucky groaned, his hand sliding into your hair, not pushing, just resting there, fingers flexing every time you swallowed around him. His thighs were tense, his abs flexing under the soft glow of the bedroom light as you bobbed your head, letting saliva drip down his shaft, making everything slick and messy.

“Jesus—” His voice cracked when you took him even deeper, your throat constricting as you forced yourself to take more. “God, you’re—fuck, you’re so good at that.”

His praise made heat pool between your legs, and you moaned around him, the vibrations making his hips jerk involuntarily.

“Shit, shit—” His grip tightened in your hair as you started to work him harder, stroking him with your hand in tandem with your mouth, your tongue swirling around the head, sucking him in deep before pulling off just to tease him with kitten licks.

Bucky’s breath hitched. His chest rose and fell in sharp, uneven breaths, sweat beading along his collarbone as he fought for control. “If you keep that up, I’m not gonna last.”

You pulled off with a wet pop, grinning as you pumped him with your hand. “Maybe I don’t want you to last.”

His eyes darkened. “You tryin’ to kill me, sweetheart?”

You bit your lip, looking up at him through your lashes. “I want you to lose control.”

Bucky let out a strangled sound, his cock twitching in your grip. “Oh, fuck.”

Before he could even think about stopping you, you took him back into your mouth, sucking him even harder, your tongue tracing every ridge and vein, your hand twisting at the base. The lewd, wet sounds filled the room, mixing with Bucky’s harsh breaths, the curses falling from his lips.

“Shit—” His head fell back, eyes screwing shut as his thighs trembled. “I—baby, I’m gonna—”

You didn’t stop. You wanted it, wanted to taste him, to push him over the edge, and when you swallowed around him, that was it.

Bucky came with a broken moan, his body shuddering as he spilled into your mouth. You took it all, swallowing every drop, your tongue swirling to clean him up before you finally pulled back, pressing a teasing kiss to his sensitive tip.

Bucky was still catching his breath when you climbed up his body, straddling his lap. His hands found your hips instinctively, his fingers pressing into your skin as he looked up at you with blown pupils, his hair sticking to his forehead.

“You tryin’ to kill me?” he rasped.

You smirked, grinding your soaked core against his still-hard cock. “You’re still hard.”

Bucky groaned, his grip on your hips tightening. “You ride me right now, I swear to God, I’ll—”

You didn’t let him finish. You reached between your bodies, lining him up before sinking down onto him in one slow, deliberate motion.

Bucky’s jaw went slack. “Holy—fuck.”

You gasped, the stretch stealing your breath, your fingers digging into his chest for balance. He filled you so perfectly, so deep, the pressure overwhelming in the best way.

Bucky groaned, his hands dragging up your waist. “Goddamn, sweetheart, you feel so fuckin’ good.”

You started to move, rolling your hips, setting a slow, teasing rhythm that had Bucky cursing under his breath. His hands gripped your ass, guiding you, his jaw clenched like he was barely holding it together.

“Faster,” he gritted out.

You obeyed, picking up the pace, bouncing on him as your nails raked down his chest. He was so deep, hitting the perfect spot with every movement, and when he reached between your bodies, rubbing your clit in tight circles, you cried out, your walls fluttering around him.

“Fuck, that’s it,” Bucky groaned, his hips thrusting up to meet yours. “Come for me, baby. Let me feel you.”

The pleasure coiled tight, your body tensing before it snapped, your orgasm crashing over you in waves. You moaned his name, your walls pulsing around him as you clung to him, trembling.

Bucky wasn’t far behind. He gritted out a curse, his hands gripping you tight as he drove up into you a few more times before he spilled deep inside you, his whole body tensing beneath you.

You both stayed there, panting, your forehead resting against his.

Bucky let out a breathless laugh. “You’re gonna be the death of me.”

You smirked, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “But what a way to go.”

Bucky let out a breathless laugh. “That was…”

You grinned. “Good?”

He reached for you, pulling you back up and kissing you, his tongue sweeping against yours. “More than good.”

You curled up beside him, your head resting on his chest. His fingers traced lazy patterns on your back, and for the first time in days, you felt safe.

“Get some sleep,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your hair. “I’ve got you.”

And you believed him.

You closed your eyes and within minutes, you drifted into a well-needed sleep. But Bucky? Bucky was wide awake. He could not shake the thoughts of a new super soldier serum, and he could not rest until he got clarity. He didn’t even care about the campaign anymore, all he cared about was you and the possibility that more unconsenting people — more soldiers — would have to go through what he went through for seventy years.

Bucky lay there staring at the ceiling, occasionally picking up his phone to check the headlines, a reminder of the threats to you and your career.  When the room was dark and your breathing had evened out, Bucky slipped out of bed. He dressed quickly, his movements silent, and with one last glance at you, he slipped out the door.

Sam Wilson, none other than Captain America himself, was waiting for him in a parked car outside.

Bucky followed Sam through the dimly lit parking lot, the cool night air doing little to settle the storm in his chest. He hadn’t told you where he was going, just slipped out while you were sleeping, your body curled up in the sheets that still smelled like him. He hated leaving you like that, but this—this was bigger than both of you.

Sam leaned against the hood of his car, arms crossed as he studied Bucky with sharp, knowing eyes. “You look like shit,” Sam remarked. “Rough night?”

Bucky huffed out a dry chuckle, running a hand through his hair. “Something like that.”

Sam nodded, then got straight to business. “There’s a gala happening for Ross tonight. Big event, all the right people in the room. And guess who got an invite?” He tapped his chest. “Captain America, plus one.”

Bucky arched a brow. “You asking me to be your date?”

“I’m asking you to help me dig up whatever the hell Ross is hiding,” Sam corrected. “I was gonna take Joaquin, but I think you need to be there more than he does.”

Bucky exhaled slowly. “You really think we’ll find something?”

Sam gave him a look. “I know we will.”

That was all the convincing Bucky needed.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.

The sunlight creeping through the curtains was what finally pulled you from sleep. You reached across the bed instinctively, but your hand met cold sheets. Your brows furrowed as your fingers skimmed the emptiness beside you.

“Bucky?” you murmured, voice rough with sleep.

Silence.

You sat up, glancing around the dimly lit bedroom. His clothes were gone. The shoes he’d left by the door—gone. You reached for your phone, a strange weight settling in your chest as you unlocked it. No messages. No missed calls.

What the hell?

Your fingers hovered over his contact, debating whether to call him. Instead, you sent a text:

Where did you go?

A few minutes passed. No response.

Another message.

Bucky?

Still nothing. The weight in your chest grew heavier.

Frustration gnawed at you as you swung your legs over the side of the bed, standing abruptly. Did he just leave? No note, no explanation? After everything last night?

You pulled on a hoodie, shoving your phone in the pocket before heading toward the kitchen. You needed coffee. And maybe an explanation for why Bucky Barnes had a habit of disappearing on you.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.

Taglist: @imaginecrushes @maplepepperoni @sleepysongbirdsings @sunday-bug @bunnyfella @lktunes12-blog @bellamoret @mrsnikstan @greatenthusiasttidalwave @pancake-05 @theylovethesky @avengersfan25 @nydubs @abitofblues @ferretferretferret @helen-2003 @notreallythatlost @opheliagreenaway

[if you want to be added or removed from taglist, lmk<3]

[the20thangel]

The Labor of Our Fruits

Summary: Tumblr Request!: A Targaryen reader. She and Benji didn't get off on the right foot because it was an arranged marriage, but Benji loves her but is scared to show it. The reader is pregnant, and because Benji has been ignoring her when she goes into labor, she begs Benji to not let her die, and he feels terrible thinking she would think something like that. But ending happily with their little baby boy.

tags: childbirth, angst, fluff

Word count: 2005

(this is an x reader fanfic but just with a name)

Daella grimaced, feeling immense pressure as the maester pressed down on her stomach. She wished her mother’s healers were here instead of this maester, but she was far from home, far from her mother and brothers and step-sisters, far from the comforts of Dragonstone and the sounds of dragons roosting around the island. She realistically knew all she needed to do was ask to get what she wanted, but she couldn’t bring herself to. Since their marriage night, she hardly spoke to her husband, Lord Benjicot Blackwood. How can she just go up and ask him to tell him to send for the healers from Dragonstone? 

Her marriage… was strange; that was the only way she could describe it. To ensure House Blackwood kept their alliance with her mother, Daella was brought to Raventree Hall to marry its new lord. He was not cruel, her lord husband, but distant. She did not know if having a distant husband was better or worse. In some cases better, because he never forced himself on her or commanded her to do things that might have made her uncomfortable. She greatly appreciated him for doing that; he was already better than her uncle Aegon.

On the other hand, having a distant husband was worse. She was lonely, growing a babe of a man she hardly knew, proudly doing her duty for her mother and husband but drowning in her isolation. She laughed at the gods' cruel joke. Was she turning out to be like her ancestor Daella, daughter of Good Queen Alysanne, who bore her grandmother Aemma only to die without holding her babe? 

Daella groaned quietly as the maester finished evaluating her. She sat up as the doors of the bed chamber opened, revealing her husband, Benjicot. Walking into the chamber, he saw the maester packing his bag. Benjicot quickly walked to his wife, pausing before her, unsure if he should hold her hand. Ultimately, he stood by her, watching her fidget with her dress. 

“How are they?” he asked the maester. 

“Both mother and child are progressing wonderfully, my lord; we should expect the babe to come any minute now.” stated the maester, bowing to the lord and princess as he walked out of the room. 

Daella swallowed; she did not know what to do now, such was most the case with her. She mainly floated around the castle, careful not to be in anybody’s way. Knowing that made her seem weird, she heard the whispers as the people spoke about the odd Targaryen girl their lord was forced to marry. 

Benjicot stared at his beautiful wife, wishing he could know her thoughts. His marriage was a quiet one. Both hardly spoke to each other, only short sentences here and there. His aunt urged him to make more effort to express his love to Daella, but he just didn’t know how. He was not good at romance, feeling more comfortable in battles. He also never wanted to be the husband who would force his wife to do actions she may not like. So he tried to give her space, allowing her to grow accustomed to her new home. 

Swallowing away his nervousness, he decided to try to make a small conversation. 

“How are you feeling?” asked Benjicot, seeing how Daella jumped in surprise, looking at him with her soft purple eyes. Oh, how he could get lost staring at them all day. 

“Tired… my lord,” whispered Daella, smiling at him, not wanting to seem rude at his genuine worry.

Benji smiled back, “Would you like to rest before supper, or could I have the servants bring supper to the chambers?” 

“I think I will rest a little and then meet you there,” Daella said, looking at his nervous smile. 

Benjicot nodded. Feeling awkward, he turned to leave, but before thinking about it, he turned back to Daella. 

“Should you want or need anything these last few days, all you need to do is ask, and I will try my best to provide it to you,” Benji promised as he reached to caress her cheek, only stopping mere inches away. Again, feeling unsure if she would accept his touch, He chose to walk away and leave the room. 

Daella, with great sadness, watched her husband leave her alone again in the chamber. Once the door closed, she let a small tear flow freely down her cheek. 

“I wish to go home,” whispered Daella, closing her eyes as she stroked her belly. Only allowing a smile to softly stretch on her face as she felt her babe kick her. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The following day, Benji woke up earlier than previous ones. He had to ride out for a few days and needed to check in with the village. As he turned, he could not help but smile at the sight before him. He loved seeing his wife sleeping, seeing her in the most relaxing state. She always wore a smile on her face as her hands lay on top of her stomach. She was a beauty, and he wished he could show more of his feelings towards her. He wants to build his relationship with her but always becomes too nervous to act anything out.  Leaning down to provide a small kiss on her forehead. He made a vow that once he returned, he would start to show more effort in his marriage so that when their babe entered this world, they would have parents who were openly affectionate with each other. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Daella grew restless. Benji had been gone for a few days and was not due to return for another two days. She was trying her best to take over the castle duties, but she kept having cramps. Her babe was not due yet, so Daella started worrying. Was there something she was doing wrong? Was she harming her baby? She groaned from another cramp as a passing servant, recognizing the signs of labor, gasped and ran to the princess.

“My princess, how long have you been feeling these pains?” questioned the servant girl as she led the princess back to the chambers.

Daella exhaled, feeling the cramp alleviate for a second, “Since last night… I think..” groaning from another wave of cramps. 

“Princess, you are in labor, we need…. Someone fetch the maester. The princess is in labor!” shouted the servant girl to the nearest guard, who frantically nodded, running to do his bidding. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The castle was in chaos; the pained screams of Daella echoed in the halls as servants entered and left the princess’s chambers. Daella was lying in bed, watching the maester and midwives converse quietly. Her babe was taking too long to leave her body. She knew what the maester wanted to do… he wanted to cut the babe free from her body. She shook in fright; she did not want to die in the labor bed. She did not want to follow the path of her namesake and her grandmother, Aemma.  She wanted to live, not ready to enter the realm of Balerion. 

“We need to wait for Lord Benjicot to decide…” whispered the midwife, trying to stall the maester from doing anything drastic. 

“If we wait too long, there might not be anyone left to save.” argued the maester, looking back at the bleeding princess. 

Daella closed her eyes as she wept; she wanted her mother, she wanted Benji, and she prayed to the gods to have mercy on her and her baby. 

As if the gods were listening, the doors opened with a bang, and people gasped. A muddy Benjicot ran into the room, scanning for Daella, and saw her breathing heavily on their bed. 

“My lord, the birthing room is no place…” began the maester as Benjicot ignored him, running to take his wife’s hand in his. 

“Daella..” whispered Benji, moving some white hair away from her face.

Daella smiled painfully at her husband. She needed to be a dragon, and she would fight for her life. 

“Benji, please, please don’t let him do it to me…” pleaded Daella as she let tears stream down her face. 

Benjicot looked at his wife in confusion. What was causing her so much stress?

Turning to the maester and midwives, he asked them what was happening to his wife. The maester walked up to the lord as he explained that the babe was taking too long to leave the princess's stomach. Proposing that the best option to save the future heir of House Blackwood was to cut the babe out of the princess's body.

 Daella, sobbing, reached for Benji's hand as she pleaded, “Please don't let them cut me. I do not wish to die yet.”

Benjicot, heartbroken at seeing her in such a state, leaned down to kiss her forehead and whisper comforting words to her. 

“Shh, my love, I would never do such a thing to you…” 

“My lord, if we don’t, we risk losing the ba-” 

“Remove this man out of my sight before I turn and run my sword across his stomach,” growled Benjicot, shooting daggers at the gaping maester being led out by the guards. 

Benji turned to the midwives and pleaded, “Please, is there any way to save them both?” 

The midwives nodded, “It’s the princess’s first, babe. She has grown tired of using all her energy to push out. We can help her by pushing on her stomach as she pushes herself. It will be painful, but it is the best chance to save both mother and child.” 

Benjicot nodded, letting himself be led to sit behind her, pressing his hand on her stomach as Daella continued to sob. 

“When we ask the princess the push, we will need you, my lord, to push your hands downward with all your might. Even if she screams in agony, you push down. We cannot risk the babe getting stuck.” commanded the head midwife, waiting for him to agree. 

Once the young lord agreed, the midwives all went to their positions. Looking at him, they started to command the princess to start pushing. Benji, in turn, also pressed his hands on her stomach, feeling her body warp. Daella screamed in agony, feeling like her body was ripping in half. She wanted them to stop but knew that if she wanted to live, she needed to continue to push. Praying to the goddesses Meleys and Shrykos, she pleaded for them to hear her, asking for a safe, open road for her babe’s birth. 

Benjicot continued to press down as he kissed Daella's crown, feeling proud of her courage and bravery during this upsetting situation. She was indeed a dragon princess, not letting herself falter. He decided to express his thoughts as he continued to help her push. 

“That’s it, my love, you are doing wonderful; you are almost there, Daella, don’t give up… I know you can,” he whispered to her ear, his heart breaking at every scream she let out. 

Daella, even though tired, felt empowered by her husband’s words, inhaling she gave one last push. She will live, she will not die in this bed, and she will get to see her child grow up. 

With one last scream and push, the baby boy left his mother’s body, wailing to the world. Daella started crying at seeing her son. He was beautiful, with his father’s black hair and pale skin like hers. He was placed on her chest as she wrapped her arms around his tiny body. Benji, too, started crying at seeing his son, something that showed a promise of the love he was willing to show to his wife. 

As the young heir nuzzled his mother’s chest, he briefly opened his eyes, showcasing a beautiful purple color—the very ones Benjicot adored on his wife. Feeling overwhelmed, he rocked the baby and mother into his arms. 

“You did wonderful, Daella. You were amazing,” he praised his princess, kissing her cheek and continuing to rock them. 

Daella smiled as she leaned into her husband’s embrace, feeling she was finally home. 

[anna--gvf]

Submissive Dae Ho x (F) Reader (Part 2)

So sorry that this one isn't gender neutral! Got a request to make a part two to this fic about him returning the favor. ;)

Warnings: Oral (F! Receiving), dry humping, more praise.

Lmk if y'all prefer smut directly below the cut instead of a storyline, I haven't really written much since Wattpad lmao. I'm always open to oneshots/shorter chapters!

Feedback is welcome! Enjoy ;p

You swing the bathroom door open, Dae Ho catching it to follow behind you closely. He either didn't notice or didn't care regarding how painfully obvious he was being with his clinginess.

The both of you part ways towards your beds. Although only a few beds apart, Dae Ho could only think about how nice it would be to still be next to you right now.

You try to ignore the throbbing need between your thighs, hoping you'll eventually drift off to sleep..

-

"Fuck, yes." You sigh, tightly gripping Dae Ho's hair, roughly guiding his warm tongue along your folds. He immediately began lapping up every drop of you, savoring the taste with a light suck of your clit. A soft moan leaves your lips as you get closer and closer with each passing moment.

The tightening feeling in your gut growing stronger with each movement of his tongue, you feel yourself on the very edge of sweet release, gasping softly,--

-

Suddenly, that familiar, yet taunting trumpeted melody blaring over the loudspeakers rudely awakens you from your slumber. You sit up with a groan, followed by a yawn and stretch.

You sigh, an uncomfortable feeling still pooling in your lower stomach.

You glance over to Dae Ho, who was already looking at you, a small smile forming on his lips before his eyes dart down to his lap.

A loud sigh leaves your lips, rubbing your eyes before placing your head in your hands. You needed him, bad.

"Fuck it." You mutter to yourself quietly, standing up and making your way over to him.

You glance around, scanning for him. He had already moved, now sitting on the front steps of the beds, talking to Jung Bae.

Exhaling softly, you walk up to him, a small smile on your face.

"Dae Ho." You call out, causing his attention to shift to you. His heart skips a beat, still flustered around you after last night.

"Hm?" He hums back in response, unsure if he'd be able to form a sentence without stumbling over his words nervously.

"Can I talk to you?" You request, eyeing him hungrily, as discreetly as you could.

He nods. "Yeah, um.." He pauses briefly before turning to Jung Bae. "I'll be right back, okay?"

Jung Bae nods, looking down to his lap and snickering to himself quietly as you lead Dae Ho back to the bathroom.

Dae Ho follows swiftly behind you, his hands balled into fists at his sides, his breathing already slightly shuddery.

Pushing the bathroom door open, you step inside, glancing around to make sure it was still vacant.

The moment the bathroom door swung shut behind the two of you, your demeanor shifted entirely.

This time you walk right past the sinks and directly into the stall, practically dragging him behind you.

He eagerly followed you into the stall, his eyes scanning you hopefully, watching as you shut and lock the stall door behind you.

He gazes into your eyes, waiting for you to say something. Waiting for you to do something.

"Fuck." You mutter, moving to cup his face in your hands, pulling him into a passionate kiss. You plant your hand against the wall next to his head, your thigh instinctively moving in between his legs.

A breathy noise left his mouth, Dae Ho immediately reciprocating the kiss with equal fervor.

You pull away, gasping softly, your hand reaching for the top of his head, gently pushing him down. He knew just what you were asking of him, slowly sinking to his knees in front of you.

"After last night," You start, moving your hand under his chin to tilt his head up, forcing his eyes to meet yours. "I had a dream about you."

His eyes fixate on you harder, his face slowly reddening as you physically see the realization seep into his expression.

"Let's recreate it, hm?" You laugh softly, sinking down to your knees to be level with him before leaning back against the wall, spreading your legs for him.

"Come here."

He lets out a whimper at the direct request, crawling towards you before settling between your thighs.

His eyes fixate on your clothed heat for a moment, shyly looking up at you before resting his hands on your clothed thighs, gaze averting back down to your body, engraving every single detail of yours into his mind.

Your fingers run through his hair. Gently tangling your fingers in it, you direct his gaze up to meet yours, a quiet noise leaving his lips as you do so.

"In my dream," You start, caressing his face gently with the back of your hand. "You made me feel so fucking good. Do you think you can do that for me?" You smile tauntingly, seduction prominent in your tone as your opposite hand moves to teases yourself over your pants.

His eyes widen softly, continuously glancing between your face and your hand on yourself, nodding slowly, a quiet exhale leaving his lips.

"Oh fuck." He whispers to himself, beginning to slowly tease his hands up and down your thighs.

"Fuck, Dae Ho. Don't tease me." You murmur sternly, hips shifting lightly.

He instantly obeys with a shaky whimper, his hands reaching the waistband of your pants without another word.

You raise your hips, allowing him to slide down your pants and underwear with ease.

A shuddering sigh leaves Dae Ho's lips as he lays eyes on your bare skin, slowly averting his gaze back to you.

"See how fucking wet you made me?" You hum, running your hand through his hair.

A whimper falls from his lips just at your words, his erection already throbbing uncomfortably in his pants.

You tangle your hand in his hair, slowly guiding him down towards your aching arousal, a quiet moan leaving your lips the moment his tongue was pressed against you.

He slowly drags his tongue along your wet cunt, making his way towards your clit, drawing another breathy noise from you.

With a frustrated sigh, your grip in his hair tightens as you impatiently guide him to your clit.

Dae Ho immediately complies, sloppily kissing and sucking at your clit. You watch as his eyes dart up to meet yours with the most pathetic expression.

He adored every gasp, every moan, every movement, continuously engulfing every part of your pussy based on how you reacted.

A specific flick of his tongue against your clit caused you to throw your head back, gasping out softly.

"Just like that.. Oh, fuck." You sigh. "You're doing so good, baby." You praise, grinding your hips up against his tongue lightly, Dae Ho gripping your thighs to ground himself.

A muffled moan from him brought your gaze back to him, analyzing every single one of his features as he ruthlessly circled his tongue around your clit, snatching a pleased sound from you.

"Shit, I'm gonna cum if you keep doing that." You call out breathlessly, clenching your thighs around his head softly.

"Right there." You moan, your other hand also tangling in Dae Ho's hair as you practically controlled all of his movements. He let you.

Dae Ho moans into you pathetically, his hips subtly grinding against the bathroom floor. Although he would never admit it to anybody, there's nothing he enjoyed more than being used, entirely for your pleasure.

Your head falls back against the wall, another noise from you filling the room as you near your orgasm. "Shit, keep going." You pant. "Your tongue feels so fucking good."

The praise and approval from you had a knot tightening in his stomach as well, his sloppy thrusts against the floor picking up slightly.

"Fuck--" You moan. "I'm gonna cum." You warn, basking in the soft whimpers falling from Dae Ho's lips.

With Dae Ho's movements staying consistent against your throbbing clit, a string of moans leaves your mouth as he finally brings you over the edge of release, the intense waves of pleasure crashing over you.

He loudly moans against your pussy, his hips pathetically rocking against the floor as his orgasm syncs with yours.

He pulls away as you both come down from your highs, soft whimpers and gasps falling from his lips as you run your hands through his hair.

Catching your breath, you can't help but ask the question you already knew the answer to. "Did you just cum in your pants?" You tease, laughing softly.

His gaze averts, an embarrassed look prominent on his face. "Fuck, I'm sorry." He sighs out shakily.

"Don't be." You assure, brushing a strand of hair out of your face. "That was fucking amazing."

He lets out a shy laugh, his eyes locking back with yours for a moment.

"Now, get yourself cleaned up. We've got money to win, or something." You tease, swiftly standing up and pulling your pants up in one swift motion.

His face flushes as he stands up, attempting to cover himself to the best of his ability.

"Better hurry." You laugh. "I'll go talk to Jung Bae."

He nods, a quiet shaky breath leaving his lips.

Cupping his face in your hands, you pull him into one last quick kiss, tasting yourself on his lips before breaking away, swiftly walking out of the bathroom.

Dae Ho takes a moment, smiling to himself proudly before quickly walking back into a stall to clean up.

[s4nniebe4r]

the roommate

part six: brush it off

pairing: roommate! san x fem! reader

synopsis: you finally let out your frustrations, and so does he?

wc: 2.7k

tags: slow burn, roommates, enemies to lovers, angst, forced proximity, eventual romance, some explicit language

etc: double update?! yes, because i can and am impatient! do we like angry san? also, let’s keep in mind this is not an accurate description of who san is and how he acts! this is purely fiction! not proofread, liebchens! 

previous part next part

It’s been a few days since your last call with Seonghwa about your recent episode. You walk into the living room, ready to finally relax after a long day. Your muscles are really just craving the comfort of the couch, the cushions usually engulf you like a hug. But, as you make your way to it, your eyes narrow in disbelief. 

San’s stuff is everywhere. His dirty habit is all over the living area.

His jacket is draped over the armrest, his sneakers are left carelessly at the foot of the couch, and his bag is sprawled across the cushions on the opposite side that he’s on. He’s completely unaware of the chaos, too focused on whatever he had on the screen. 

You exhale sharply, standing still for a moment, trying to calm your frustration. It’s one of those things that’s been slowly driving you mad, but now? You just can’t let it go anymore.

Without looking up from the screen, San mutters, “What?”

You scowled, hands now moving to your hips. “I didn’t realize the couch was now exclusively yours,” you shot, your voice laced with irritation. 

San glances up briefly, his face impassive. “You could have just asked me to move it, instead of acting like a martyr. Or you could move it yourself,” he says casually, as if it isn’t a big deal. 

Your frustration only flares. You aren’t about to just let it slide. “I shouldn’t have to move it,” you snap, sitting down heavily next to the pile of things, trying to make it clear how annoyed you are. You’re now wedged between the cushions in a tight, uncomfortable spot. You try to ignore the inconvenience, but the tension only grows. “I’m not your personal maid.”

San doesn’t seem to get the hint, he never does. His gaze returns to the TV, focusing on the game, his expression rather unchanged. “You could sit somewhere else,” he says, his voice light, like it’s no big deal.

You shake your head, crossing your arms over your chest, now sandwiched between the cushions and his mess. “I shouldn’t have to ask to sit down, San. Why does your stuff always have to be everywhere?”

His response comes with a soft, distracted laugh. “You’re making a big deal out of nothing. It’s just the couch, just move the stuff. It’s not that hard.”

Your jaw tightens, the irritation now rising into anger. You can’t understand why he’s so oblivious to how it makes you feel. “It’s not just about the couch, San. It’s everything. The way you take up the space here and never even think about how it affects me.”

San doesn’t take his eyes off the screen. He’s fully immersed in the game now, his thumb flicking over the controller with easy skill as he moves characters around. “You could just tell me if you want something changed. But instead, you’ve kept quiet and now you’re just spouting bullshit.”

The words sting more than they should. You feel your chest tighten. “I’m always telling you. But you never listen. You only listen when it’s conveniently late.”

He huffs, his jaw setting in a way that very distinctly shows he’s getting annoyed too. “I’m listening right now, aren’t I? But I can’t do anything about it if you don’t actually talk to me when it matters.”

You’re standing up now, your frustration bubbling over, no longer able to stay stuck between what you see as a rock and a hard place, even though it’s really just his mess of your space. “It’s not just about the damn couch, okay? It’s everything. You’ve been playing this game for hours, and I can’t even get a moment to myself. It’s like you’re so wrapped up in what you want and nothing else matters.”

San finally looks over at you, his brows furrowed, but then his eyes return to the screen, his fingers never pausing. “You’re really going to bring that up? The TV? The game? That’s what’s bothering you? Right now?”

You scoff, throwing your hands in the air. “It’s not just the damn game, San. It’s everything! The TV, the temperature—you always keep it freezing in here! And let’s not even talk about the dishes, or the fact that you leave your crap everywhere, like it’s some kind of storage space.”

San finally pauses his games, his fingers tightening their grip around the controller. He turns his head toward you, brows furrowing. “So now I’m supposed to keep the place at your perfect temperature? What, just because you can’t handle a little cold? I live here too, Y/N.”

“That’s not the point, and you know it. I’m trying to say, you don’t think about anyone else living here. You don’t even try to meet me halfway.”

San lets out a dry laugh, shaking his head slightly. “That’s rich, coming from you. You act like you’re the only one dealing with anything in this apartment.”

Your fists unconsciously start to clench at your sides, heat rising in your chest. “Oh really? So please, San, tell me—what exactly am I doing that’s so unbearable?”

His jaw tightens. “For starters? You take up all the cabinets in the bathroom, you’re constantly rearranging the kitchen items, and you never turn the stove off. Not to mention you’re always slamming shit around when you’re mad instead of saying anything. If something bothers you so much, why do I have to play detective and figure it out? All you have to do is say something, literally anything.”

You breath hitches, air stuck in your throat. You knew he noticed, but hearing him say it like that—like you’re childish—makes your stomach twist with something sharp. “Maybe because when I do say something, you brush it off. You never actually listen until it gets to this point. And by then, it’s too late to even say anything further.”

San stands up now, tossing the controller onto the couch a little rougher than he should have, meeting you now. “No, you just wait until you’re pissed off to dump everything on me all at once. And I’m supposed to just sit here and take it?”

And just like that, your throat tightens, a familiar sting rising behind your eyes. It always happens when things get too emotionally charged, when the tension builds past the point of your control. You hate it. You hate that no matter how angry you feel, your body betrays you, turning frustration into something softer, something weaker. That’s why you never liked fighting. Why you never want to bring things up with San. Because you know, you knew it would end like this—your voice shaking, your vision blurring, emotions spilling over in ways you can't stop. You don’t want to cry. Not here, not now, and definitely not in front of him. You tilt your head back slightly, eyes flickering toward the ceiling as if that will somehow force the tears back into place. 

He exhales sharply. “Oh, what, now you’re gonna act like I’m the bad guy?” His voice is a little quieter now, but there’s something else there—frustration, exhaustion. Maybe something more? But you don’t let yourself think too much about it. 

You shake your head, stepping back, trying to regain even the smallest bit of control over this moment, over yourself. “I don’t want to do this, San.”

“Oh, you don’t?” He scoffs, his head dipping a little, his own voice strained now. “Because it sure as hell seems like you do—considering you just unloaded every single thing that’s been pissing you off for months.”

You clench your jaw, turning on your heel to leave. “I’m done. I don’t even know why I—”

But before you can't even take another step, his hand wraps around your wrist. Firm. Not forceful, but it’s definitely there. Stopping you. Pulling you back, closer than where you stood previously. 

“You can’t just say all of that and walk away,” he says, and this time, his voice is low. Measured. Almost unreadable, as what you’ve grown accustomed to. 

You freeze. His fingers are warm despite the cold air that always lingers in the apartment. His grip isn’t too tight, but it anchors you in your place, and suddenly, there's a stolen breath from your lungs. 

You look up at him, ready to snap, ready to pull your arm away as harshly as you can, to—

But the moment your eyes meet his, everything shifts.

The sharp words on your tongue die out where they were, swallowed by the space between you—what little of it remains. His fingers are still wrapped around your wrist. You should pull away, you should end this here before the arguments gets to be too much, but neither of you move. 

Instead, you decided to continue, it seems that’s what he wants, anyway. 

“I wouldn’t have had to say all of that if you actually listened,” you bite out, voice wavering between anger and something else that you can’t quite pinpoint. 

San steps closer. Not enough to touch, but enough that you can feel the heat radiating from him, enough that you can see the way his muscles flex in his face, the way his brows furrow as his own frustration builds. “You’re acting like I never pay attention to you,” he snaps. “Like I don’t—” He stops himself, exhales sharply, shaking his head. “Forget it.”

“No,” you push, voice still shaking but a little firmer now. “Say it, you clearly want to.”

His eyes flicker with something unreadable. The muscle in his jaw locks. “You think I don’t notice things about you?” He lets out, his voice low and rougher now. “That I don’t know you get cold way too easily, even when it’s barely snowing outside? That you always sigh when the water filter isn’t taken care of? That you leave the lights on and act like you don’t even though I see you do it night after night?”

Your breath catches where it is.

His grip on your wrist loosens now, but doesn’t drop. 

You should say something—anything—but the way he’s looking at you is knocking the air out of your lungs. And it only makes you more uncomfortable with how you’re feeling. The tears in your eyes begging to be let loose. 

And then—his eyes flicker downward. 

Your stomach flips. 

San isn’t breathing. Neither are you. Your pulse thrums in your ears, drowning out every thought, every rational part of you screaming that this, this is too close, this is too much. You can feel the warmth of his breath, the tension surrounding you, it’s so thick, it’s suffocating. 

And then, his hand moves. 

Gently, so gently, something so different than the first touch on your wrist. His fingers brush up against the side of your face. His thumb drags across your jaw, moving up until it swipes across your cheek, catching the single tear that had fallen against your will. 

You suck in a breath—barely a sound, but you know he hears it. How could he not?

San doesn't move away. Not yet. His thumb lingers for a fraction of a second longer than it should, his touch warm, his expression unreadable. 

You don’t move. You can’t. There’s something different in the way he’s looking at you now, looking into you—not quite anger, it’s not soft, but something simmering beneath it all, something too heavy, too much to put your finger on. His brows are drawn together and his jaw is tensing, relaxing, and tensing all over again, like he’s trying to decide between something.

And yet, through it all, his hands don’t leave your skin. 

Your own breath is shallow, barely there, as if exhaling too harshly would shatter whatever fragile thing is spinning itself between you. 

San’s eyes flicker, tracing every inch of your face—lingering at the corner of your lips, dipping briefly to your mouth before darting back up like he wasn’t supposed to look, like he wasn’t even supposed to think about it. 

His thumb moves again, featherlight across your cheekbone, following the path of the tear that betrayed you. His touch burns, knot in the way that hurts, but in the way that it brands itself into your memory, searing its permanence, a heat that will stay long after he eventually decides to let go. 

You swallow, your throat dry, too tight, too tense. Your own fingers twitch at your sides, caught in something invisible between pushing him away or pulling him a little closer. 

He’s still looking at you. You’re still looking at him. 

And inevitably, your eyes flutter shut. 

That’s all it seems to take. 

San’s fingers shift, tilting your face upwards, guiding you just a little closer. His other hand leaves your wrist, skimming lightly up the length of your arm, tracing the fabric of your sleeve until his palm ghosts over your shoulder. 

The distance between you is barely anything now—a breath away, you can feel it.

And then—

Your phone rings. 

The sharp buzzing in your pocket shatters the moment, yanking you back into reality so fast it makes your head spin.

San pulls back instantly, almost as fast as you, exhaling harshly, as if just realizing how close you both had been; like he was suddenly snapped out of something he wasn’t supposed to be in. His hand drops from your skin as if he was burnt from the touch of it. His jaw clenches, and before you can say anything—before you can even breathe properly—he runs a hand through his hair, stepping back, the heat of his touch lingering against your skin. 

You don’t look at him when you answer the call. But you don’t have to, because you can feel his gaze burning into you. 

You blink, chest rising and falling way too fast, mind scrambling to catch up to what just happened. 

Seonghwa. 

His name flashes on your screen like a cruel joke, and with trembling fingers, you fumble to answer. San doesn’t say anything. But out of the corner of your eye, you see it—his hand running through his hair, gripping at it a little too harshly, his jaw clenched so tight you think it might hurt. 

You don’t let yourself look at him any longer.

You clear your throat, voice uneven, and lift the phone to your ear as you turn on your heel one last time for the night, and leave—quickly, too quickly—before he can say anything, before you can process the way his stare is still boring into your back. 

The door shuts behind you harshly as you step into your room, pressing your forehead against the cold frame of it for just a second, trying to collect yourself. 

“Y/N?” Seonghwa’s voice is light, casual, completely unaware of what he just interrupted. 

“Uh—yeah,” you breathe, trying to force normalcy back into your tone.

“You good?”

“Yeah, just—yeah. What’s up?”

“You want to hang out tomorrow?” Seonghwa asks easily, not even pushing the wreckage of whatever just happened on the other side of the line. “Me and the other guys are getting together for an evening. We thought you’d wanna come.”

You press your lips together, fingers curling around your phone as your gaze flickers toward the door. You can still feel San’s presence just beyond it, the weight of everything that almost happened settling into your chest like a storm waiting to let out its first stroke of lightning. 

But instead of acknowledging it, instead of thinking about it, you force yourself to focus on Seognhwa’s words instead. And you pretend. 

“Yeah, I’ll be there.” You let out. 

“Okay, and what about San? He’s at the apartment, right? I figured I could get an answer from him while I’m at it.” He responds back as he puts his phone on speaker to do whatever it was that he needed. 

“Uh…” You pause. “We’ll be there.”

“Great! We’ll see you tomorrow.” Seonghwa says as he moves around his apartment. “Oh and that reminds me…” He continues. 

And you pretend. At least you don’t have to deal with what’s beyond your bedroom door until tomorrow evening. So you hum into the speaker and let Seonghwa continue.

 

[fancyfeathers]

For darling mom and daughter the dark idea that came to mind is the kids wanting to be cared for lot. Wanting their mom to help them when they get injured, wanting to sleep next to her when they have a nightmare or to cuddle up to her. They care little of how they are seen by her. Like dick or Jason coming home beat up only to strip to almost nothing and look pleading at mother reader for her to treat their wounds. The daughter is treated the opposite never given a chance to be alone dispite her age. As she grows up it's still " here let me help you change" or " you threw up let's get you to a shower" and being willing to undress her and or themselves around each other. Like after a mission having Nightwing pull off the spandex off and

Yandere Batfam w/ Wife/Mother!Darling & Daughter/Sister!Darling

Oh my god yes

Like the idea of Mother!Darling going to the cave to grab something she left down there when she was talking to Bruce before he left for patrol and she sees Dick, wounds and bruises clear as day when he is taking off his suit and sure she helps, wrapping up his wounds and helping him upstairs so he can lay down, but after once or twice of this happens it develops into a pattern, Dick is the most often who pulls this, then Stephanie, Tim, and occasionally Jason, even Damian once or twice. Then eventually she starts to develop a pattern herself, not bothering to stay up and wait for them all to get back, after all she had no desire to play the role of dotting mother and wife, she just decided to not bother staying up to two or three in the morning.

Now Cassandra may be the one who likes physical affection the most though she doesn’t do what the others pulled with their wounds since she knows Mother!Darling is uncomfortable with the sight of blood, but say if she does get a bad dream at night she may go and crawl into bed with Mother!darling either taking Bruce’s spot in bed if he doesn’t go to bed that night or snuggling between them. Actually one of my personal headcanons is that Cass has nightmares a lot because of what she has been through.

Now Damian on the other hand also does this but he will never admit that it was a nightmare, he’ll go to his father’s and stepmother’s room and if Bruce is gone he’ll say that he was just going to watch over her in case anything happened while she sleeps since she is a heavy sleeper and is easily prone, but in the morning he is curled up to her chest or side like a little kitten while holding on to either her clothes or touching whatever flesh he can as if he is scared she’ll disappear if he lets go. If his father is sleeping with her then he’ll go to daughter!darling’s room with the same excuse and most of the time she tells him to fuck off but he ignores her and gets into bed with her anyway and pulls her so tightly to him that she thinks she may suffocate.

Tim is another one like this but he just goes to his little sister, he won’t even wake her up or make up an excuse, he’ll just get into bed with her or carry her over to his room and just hold her like a teddy bear, squeezing on her stomach or thighs almost like how a cat would make biscuits on n their favorite human. So she’ll normally wake up as the little spoon or sleeping on her stomach with Tim partially on top of her, one hand on her stomach and the other on her thigh while he is out cold.

Then there is Dick also with daughter!darling, she goes over to stay with him in Bludhaven every so often and he also has her sleep with him as a safety precaution. When she sleeps with him it is sort of how some infants sleep with their parents, all wrapped up warm and Dick holding onto her hand or his arms wrapped around her. Then if Barbara is over then she sleeps between them, if just gets so much hotter because of how much heat three people radiate.

But then again, so many things are forced on daughter!darling, like little activities with the family that she doesn’t want to do or feel too young for her, they do treat her like a child, like being in the car with Dick or Tim and they hand her a ziplock bag with snacks like a child would have packed for snack time at school, she’ll tell them she’s got hungry but especially either of them will start lecturing her about how her doctor said she was still barely growing and when you’re growing you need to eat more than other times.

Then if she makes a mess like throwing up or getting paint on herself then it’s bath time, I don’t think there is a shower in her bathroom. Normally it’s Tim or Dick who does that sort of thing, carrying her to the bathroom like a baby and setting her down on the sink counter and turning on the faucet to fill the tub before helping her get undressed, well help is not the best word since she does not really have a choice. Her clothes will land in the laundry basket and she will be thrown into the bath tub. Now Tim, he may just sit down in the bathroom nearby while working on something just to make sure she doesn’t get out early and if she doesn’t bathe herself then he’ll do it for her. Dick on the other hand will roll up his sleeves and be the one washing her down, pouring cups of water into her hair to get all the shampoo and conditioner out and washing down her skin with a cloth or sponge.

[touyas-multi-purpose-saline]

DAY VIII. — FINGERING

cw: Fingering, Gaslighting, Manipulation, Delusional Behavior, Possessive Behavior, Allusions to Stalking, Allusions to Murder / Violence, Unhealthy Relationships, Yandere, Uncomfortable Scenarios, General Dark Content Not Suitable for Immature Audiences, Fem! Reader. Reader discretion is advised. 18+ Only!

author's note: I love Overhaul, he's such an interesting character. You can literally just take the most terrifying and horrific sexual situation and it's him, sorry. I do not condone unhealthy behavior in any sense! This is strictly fiction! Do not force yourself to read if you're uncomfortable.

word count: Approximately 1.8k words.

“You’re tense.” 

That sly and wispy voice tickles the shells of your ears, sending slicing shivers down your back, cutting through the flesh. You swallow, saliva now thick and heavy, and your breathing finds itself stuck near the axons of your lungs. Too long, your mind kicks you like a brick through a window, you’re taking too long to respond. 

“S-Sorry, I just feel a little sore.” 

Kai leans forward only by a fraction, that look etched into his face intense and stony. You glance at him before your eyes immediately shift away, and your legs try to mimic your movements, but Kai’s free hand quickly snaps forward with a cottonmouth palm to snag the middle of your thigh. The suddenness of it makes you gasp, that saliva slipping down into your throat, irritating it, and you meekly cough a couple of times. That look on Kai’s face doesn’t change. 

“Last night was a little rough, wasn’t it?” 

Little was an understatement, but you clip your comment. There’s an inkling inside of you that screams at you, that sinks its talons deep into the seam of your brain to rip it apart to tell you that he can read your fucking mind. Fear is a dagger through your heart, every time, the tear goes down to your toes and you swallow again. 

“Yes, I mean. No. No, it wasn’t rough. You just take a lot out of me.” 

That was not a wise selection of words, holy shit. You shouldn’t have said it like that—surely there was some other polite way to have said that, surely? Terror has your mind, those talons growing larger, splitting you apart, folding prions until they’re eating away the matter. Kai’s fingers cinch a little on your thigh before they loosen. 

“I do, don’t I? Unfortunately, it seems like there’s no way to avoid that. Not anymore, at least.” 

What the fuck does he mean by that? Kai’s always been so intense, a force that leached onto your soul, something that sunk its fangs in until he was sucking you dry ever since you met him. Fuck, you wish you wouldn’t have met him. If you close your eyes hard enough, could you wake up? You just softly shake your head, still not looking at him. 

“W-Well, it, um, doesn’t bother me. I—I enjoy being with you.” 

Lies. Lies and damnation, but you’d rather rip your own head off before you upset him. Even if you never quite know what he’s saying, what he drones on about, what those hisses of air that kiss between his teeth ever truly mean. You’ll never understand his enigma, his intricacies. Not like you ever wanted to. 

A chuckle so curt that you can barely tell it was one then hangs in the air. 

“Of course, you do. After all, who would ever take care of you so well? It makes sense, right?” 

Kai’s hand starts to trail up your leg. Your eyes want to close, they glitch, but you keep them open so he doesn’t think you’re trying to avoid him—again, he doesn’t like whenever he thinks you’re ignoring him. Even if it hurts, even if you can feel the air stinging your ducts so sharply that you feel like you could start crying. It hurts, holy fucking shit does it hurt. His hand crawls ever higher. 

“No one. No one has ever treated me like you do.” 

Faster, the hand reaches the heat between your legs in the blink of an eye. 

“That’s because they’ve never been in the presence of an angel before. They don’t know how to behave.” 

You suck air through your teeth whenever one of Kai’s fingers rubs its knuckle up the slit of your cunt through your panties. He goes slow, like he’s testing the waters. It’s too much, the weight reminding you of your fate—destiny—held in the palms of his hands. Things will never be the same, never will be. It’s something strange, but you’re here now. Could those hands turn you into confetti? Could you ask? Finally, your eyes can’t refuse the offer any longer, collapsing into darkness. 

“Look at me. Now.” 

It’s sheer agony to let the light filter in again, but you open them and slowly tilt your head until you meet Kai’s piercing glowing honey eyes. The unknown emotions swirling like peppermint in that frosty color makes you queasy, but he wants you to look at him and you’re too miserable to object. His knuckle grows a little faster before a couple more fingers fall in line with their brother and join the act, and you try to unfocus your eyes and think about how that feels instead of comprehending the mirrors to Kai’s soul. You wonder what he’s thinking about you. No. You don’t want to know what he thinks about you. 

“I don’t like when you’re not paying attention to me. I try to do everything for you, but sometimes it feels like you’re ungrateful for that.” 

Ohhhh, noooo, no no nooo. You didn’t just make him angry, did you? All you did was close your eyes, all you did was close your eyes, your eyes, fuck, no, please. Kai’s eyes squint a little at your stunned silence, the knuckles immediately dig in. You gasp, taken aback, but you start shaking your head. 

“That’s not it! No, I—No, not at all. I love it, yeah. I love it so much. You make me feel really special, I promise, I promise you do.” 

Could you feed into his delusions better? You think he enjoys whenever you remind him that you love him, too, but sometimes it feels like he’s not even hearing you. It feels like he sees whatever reality he wants, whatever scene he needs to play out in his head. You can never understand him. At one point, you thought you did. You thought he was kind, sweet and polite. He was a gentleman that you bumped into one day—someone who helped you up, who held your hand tenderly while he squeezed his eyes together so cutely. Had that even been genuine? Kai’s so fucking gone, it’s not even funny. Maybe you never even knew him at all. You know he stalked you now, even if he’ll never tell you that. You think he doesn’t want your perception of him to change—too late. 

“Ah, then why don’t you like looking at me when I touch you?” 

Kai’s fingers hovel in deeper, and a moan revs in the back of your throat. Your eyes roll a little while you shift, attempting to scoot away from those dastardly fingers discreetly but they follow. Your thighs are tight together now. Kai starts closing in, honing in on your face, knees on the bed, lumbering. Could you shake your head fast enough? Lie, lie! Make him happy before he goes fucking crazy! Blood splatters before the visions in your mind, the television that loops over and over. The look of shock that crossed your old lover’s face while they turned their face to meet yours before their skin warbled like worms writhing in the ground before they exploded into crumbs. 

“Well, I just, it’s. Oh, Kai, you’re so—h-handsome that I can barely comprehend it. It intimidates me.” 

If you seem infatuated even in the darkest times, he’ll stay happy. Always happy. Kai’s eyes return to their former size, and a gentle kind of half moon crosses his face. Those fingers pressing against your cunt reach the edge of your mound to swivel against your clit, and you gasp again at the jolt of electricity that makes your toes curl before his fingers slide back down. They scratch at the stitching of your panties before they begin to wriggle their way underneath the fabric. You bite your bottom lip, teeth like needles. His skin rubbing against the fat of your labia makes you realize how wet you already are from even his most gentle and brief touches. Kai’s trained you. 

“Is that why you’re already soaking? Do you fantasize about me, too?” 

You don’t even dignify that with a verbal response, you just barely smile and exhale a moan. Kai’s fingertips are deft, practiced and refined from how many times he’s touched you. They slip through your lips, collecting your glaze before his middle finger starts to tap against the outskirts of your entrance. A distinct throb elicits another moan, and Kai takes that as a sign to keep going. His middle finger starts to press down. You part so easily for him, fuck, the strange pangs that start in your burning clit and end in your heart make you dizzy. He hilts in, down to the knuckle, and your jaw is clenched and eyes are wrenched open. The way it makes you start to go around in circles, in these mazes of racetracks, of things that never made sense but make your body warm and fuzzy. 

Kai wiggles his finger a little, testing the plasticity of your walls, and the way it makes moans gather near the bottom of your throat almost makes you want to throw up. And once he grows satisfied with that, he carefully withdraws his finger down to the smile of his nail before he slides it back in. Tears are pricking your eyes, is this really that good, and you dip your head. But you don’t take your eyes off of Kai’s face, not now, placate him. It’s like he doesn’t need to blink, those eyes big and bulging. His brows are knitted together. Is he really happy? Is that why his smile seems to grow wider? 

“I can’t believe how good you feel. I never thought I’d feel this way before I met you. Isn’t that so great? It’s like you’re my soulmate, angel.” 

Delusions. Remember that, delusions. His finger picks up its pace before his ring face traces up your slit and buries itself in with its sibling. You moan, loud and pained, and your eyes turn into slits, brows down and shadowing your vision. Kai’s smile stretches. He’s pumping his fingers in and out, and he twists his hand in just the right way to swipe his thumb over your thumping clit. It’s so steamy and engorged, you’re hard and Kai is psychotic. Remember the gaping horror in your best friend’s eyes before their head splattered against the wall. 

“Tell me you think the same. You sound like you agree, so come on, don’t keep a man waiting.” 

Your parents. Your boss. Your coworkers. Your acquaintances. Your beloved pets. 

Gone gone gone gone gone—smashed pumpkins spread across graveyards. 

Kai withdraws his fingers completely before he punches them back in, stabbing through your cunt with a ferocity that makes you gasp and cry out in shuddering agony. His smile is unyielding. 

“Tell me you think the same.” 

Blood drops trickling down your cheeks like tears, fingers strumming melodies inside of you. 

“Yes. I’m your soulmate, Kai.” 

[bandgie]

The Other Ωmega

Changbin x fem!reader

warnings: MDNI 18+, anal (m!), omegaverse!!, changbin lies about being an alpha hehe, brief fingering (m!), handjob, blowjob, v slight cum eating, omegaxomega, cheating scare but everyone is loyal!, feminization (I think?), vague overstim mentions (m!) notes!:  this is an omegaverse fic! here is some info about that universe :)

2.3k words

From: Bin<3

sorry baby! I think im in a rut won't be able to go out tonight :((

Maybe you should be more understanding, but you can't find any compassion as you read the text message. What kind of alpha doesn't want to hang out with their omega when they're in a rut? You huff and don't reply, setting your phone on the floor.

Your makeup was already done and you spent the entire night before picking your outfit. Changbin is a caring lover, but he always avoids you when his rut starts. At first, you thought it was because he was being careful, but it's been nearly half a year and he still hasn't let you near during that time.

Picking up your phone, you message your friend.

he blew me off again

Felix replies almost immediately.

From: lixiepixie!

that bitch, dump him

From: You

don't be dumb. he said he's in a rut or whatever

From: lixiepixie!

I hate to say it, but do you think he's seeing someone else? bcuz it doesn't make sense that he wouldn't want to see you when he's like that unless...

Anything you were planning to type dies in your mind. Seeing someone else? No, no way. Changbin loves you, adores you even. There's never been a moment when you've thought otherwise, but reading Felix's messages puts disturbing doubts in your mind.

From: You

no, that's not it

From: lixiepixie!

then just show up at his place! he's an alpha, he'll be happy to see you. hes prolly just nervous about fucking you while hes in a rut for the first time

That makes more sense to you. After all, it would be a waste to have put on your best makeup just for no one to see. You shoot a quick text to Changbin telling him you hope he feels better before getting dressed. A part of you is nervous about showing up, Changbin is so keen on making sure you two are separate during his rut. You wonder if he gets overly dominant. If he would manhandle you into the position he wants before taking you. 

The thought excites you and a feeling of pleasure tightens in your stomach. Changbin might be a completely different lover in bed when he's in a rut, but you're an omega. His omega. Everything about you is built for him. You can take it.

You know where Changbin keeps his spare key to the front door. It's all too simple to call it breaking and entering as you lift the fake plant pot on the front porch and stick it in the keyhole. You're nearly buzzing with excitement as you take the first few steps into his place.

The smell hits you immediately. 

It's not the musky scent you're used to, but a sweet fragrance that forces its way into your lungs. Your body responds quicker than your brain. Carnal desire begins to fill your body in an almost uncomfortable way. Your breathing grows ragged, and your heart rate increases. 

Another omega is here, and they're in heat.

You push away your bodily reactions to march deeper into his house, ignoring how the first signs of arousal drip down your thighs. The closer you get to Changbin's room, the stronger the smell gets. You're not even his front door yet and you can hear him. The way he moans whimpers, cries out.

Anguish clenches your heart, but you mask it with fury as you swing the door open. "Who the fuck- Oh...Oh."

In hindsight, maybe it should be just Changbin in the room, but you hardly feel gratitude when you see your lover completely nude on his back, legs spread with a dildo between them. He noticed you, he made eye contact with you, but his hand keeps pumping the silicone cock in and out of his ass. 

"B-baby?" His hazy eyes regard you in the doorway. "Mmm my baby, want my baby." The pace he's set for himself falters, using one hand to reach out to you. Changbin's eyes are needy and filled with raw desire. You don't think twice when you walk to him, standing beside the bed. 

You take his hand in yours, feeling his burning skin. His palms are sweaty on your own as you gently sit on the bed. 

"Binnie?" Your voice is filled with confusion. "W-what's going on?" To answer your question, Changbin takes his hand holding yours to his mouth. He kisses and nips your skin, moaning at your taste. The feeling of his tongue makes you gasp, chills breaking out across your body. 

With the pheromones suffocating you in his room, you don't know how much longer you'll last. You want nothing more than to hop on his fat cock that leaks on his tummy. It takes immense strength to keep eye contact on his flustered face. 

Changbin pops one of your fingers in his mouth, swirling the digit around his tongue. "Mmf tastes so good. Baby, you taste so good." The squelching of his dildo grows louder as he quickens his wrist. "Fuck I...I need you."

You'll argue with him another time. The smell of him overtakes your sense and mind as you place yourself in front of his bent legs, The pretty dress you put on for your date night hikes up to your thighs. Changbin vibrates with need as you take the toy in your grasp and begin to pull it out.

"No!" He shouts. "Don't pull it out! Keep it in. Please please please please."

But you have to pull it out. You have to see the way his ass eagerly clenches onto the toy as you slide it out. How his gaping hole pulses around nothing once you've completely removed it. Changbin whines and picks his head up, eyes teary and lips pouting.

The sight of his lower half makes your mouth water, salvia pooling in your mouth at his pretty rim. "Ohhh," you sigh dreamily. "You have such a pretty pussy, my Binnie."

Changbin squeals when your warm fingers rub against his wetness. His arousal gathers on your digits, leaking from his ass. 

"Nuh-uh," your alpha- no. Your omega shakes his head. "N-not true." Changbin bites his lower lip in concentration as he forms his words. "Binnie's baby has the prettiest pussy."

His slurred words make you smile, pressing your middle finger slightly into his entrance. "Why did you hide this from me, hm?" You pull your finger away to give gentle slaps to his rim. The light impact makes Changbin's hips jolt upwards, and whines leave his lips. "You know I already love your cock. I'd love your pussy too."

The way Changbin keeps moaning makes you rub your thighs together. You can feel how sticky your underwear has gotten from watching his true state. You prod his entrance with the tip of the dildo, using your free hand to spread one of his cheeks for viewing. 

"Gonna...gonna make me feel good?" Changbin frames it in a question.

Your boyfriend always knows how to make you feel good, but you're not sure if you can do the same. You're not an alpha. You're not used to being on the giving end of relationships, but Changbin's so good to you. Making sure your heat is taken care of while he was an omega himself the entire time. 

"I'll try, baby," you don't sound too confident. "Binnie's baby is gonna try, okay?" With that, you press the dildo deeper inside him. Changbin reactions are immediate, lips forming a silent 'o' shape as his eyebrows pinch together. He groans as you settle the toy deep until the sack touches his ass. You gently pull it back and in a few inches, trying to set a pace.

Every time you move the silicone even an inch, the sounds of Changbin's slick resonates throughout his room. His arousal clings to the toy and drips down his ass. You use your finger to swipe the essence and place the sticky subtle in your mouth. 

The taste settles over your tongue and you moan. Everything about Changbin at this moment screams omega, and you don't know how you didn't notice it before. His plump chest, his short stature, the roundness of his ass. All the signs were there, yet it took you fucking a dildo into him to realize his true nature. 

"God. You take cock so well," you're filled with awe at the sight of Changbin's rim swallowing the fake dick easily. The throbbing between your legs grows unbearable, but you have to ignore it. You busy the hand on his ass to reach towards his aching cock. 

It throbs in your hand and Changbin cries out. Who knows how many times he's cum before you showed up, but his entire being is begging to be fucked until he can't take it. You know the feeling all too well, and you're more than happy to help.

The sound of Changbin's drenched cock mixes with the sound his the dildo in his ass. Your fist becomes wet immediately, only encouraging you to stroke him at an unforgiving pace. With a tight grip, you pull his skin down to expose his sensitive head. White goo leaks from his tip, slinging down until it drips down his soft stomach. 

"Ooo, oh! Like that! Just like that, baby," Changbin muffles his words into the pillow beside him. 

With your thumb, you rub the pad of your digits over his slit. His pre-cum sticks to your skin, connecting it to his tip. You swirl it around his flushed head until he squirms, hips bucking to shy away from your overwhelming touch. 

"You keep moving," you tut playfully. "How am I supposed to make you cum?"

Changbin whines in response, thighs shaking as he tries his best to stay still for you. "I'm good. I'll be good, baby. Don't stop." His compliance makes you smile and you reward him by wrapping your soft lips around his pink tip. 

The sound he makes is closer to a howl than a moan. His stomach tenses at the feel of your hot mouth, spurting more salty release on your tongue. You suck softly on him, making sure you get a taste of his natural tang. Changbin digs his heels into the matter as your mouth hollows, creating a powerful suction for his cock.

The dildo in your hand falters, slowing its pace so you could focus on sucking your boyfriend off. Even then, you swear you can feel his hole clenching on the toy, trying to get the tip of the silicone to touch the womb deep in his stomach. 

"Oh my god. Oh my god," Changbin's voice is strained. He lifts his head to watch how your head slowly bops up and down his shaft, drool leaking from the sides of your mouth. You focus your gaze upwards, locking eyes with him. With his attention on you, you try your best to shove his entire shaft down your throat. Though Changbin doesn't necessarily have much length, it's his thickness you struggle with. It feels like the corners of your mouth might tear with how much you open up for him.

It looks as though Changbin has hearts in his eyes, jaw slightly open as he moans at the sight of you engulfing him "So pretty. My baby's so pretty. Love you. I love my pretty baby, oh fuck..." he mindlessly babbles. 

If you could, you'd coo at his incoherent words. You show your gratitude by pulling the dildo a few inches out before ramming it back in. Changbin yelps at the sudden movement, but his hips quickly rock with your thrusting. 

You manage to set a doable pace for yourself. Sucking him in until his curly pubes touch your nose while you fuck the toy shallowly in him. Soft gags and muffled moans elapse your mouth as you try to swallow your omega whole, but Changbin seems to find pleasure in it nonetheless. 

His stubby cock twitches in your mouth and his chest heaves as his orgasm approaches. 

Quickly, you replace your mouth with your hand, stroking him in quick jerks while you have better agility to thrust the toy inside him. You swear you could see the tip of the cock poke from underneath the belly of his skin, touching the deepest parts of him you have yet to explore yourself.

Little gasps and cries leave his pretty lips, and this time, you do have the opportunity to coo at Changbin. "Look at you. So good for me. Gonna cum all over yourself again?" 

Changbin tries to nod, but it looks like his head just flops around. You find his attempt endearing. "It's okay, Binnie. You can cum as much as you want. I know you need it."

"Need it," he agrees, eyes screwed shut. "Need it so bad." You watch as his eyebrows come together. His dildo tears from your grip as his hips entirely buck off the bed when he cums, hot spurts of release reaching all the way up to his plump chest. Changbin lets out a series of choked moans, and though you're not getting any action yourself, you moan with him. 

His legs tremble as he keeps himself lifted, the final bursts of cum dribbling down his shaft before he finally collapses. His pants fill the room and you gently remove the silicone from him.

You pull it slowly to not hurt him, but you enjoy how Changbin shivers and groans when the last inches of the cock slip out of him. You raise the soaked toy in front of you, intrigued by the white cream that settles at the base. 

Yeah, he's an omega all right.

Changbin's labored breathing slowly returns to normal and his tired arms lift to make grabby-hands at you. You try not to smile at his adorable gesture, "You know you're gonna hear it from me in the morning, right?" But you snuggle beside him anyway, bringing your face into the crook of his neck where his pheromones make your head spin. 

"Binnie's sorry," he murmurs, wrapping one of his nude legs over your waist to bring you closer. 

"Mhm. Binnie's gonna be sorry all right."

You decide he'll make up for your neglected cunt all morning tomorrow...or maybe all day.

a/n: omg I have no idea how this will preform but I had so many different ideas in mind, but I decided to go with this one. I was originally gonna do an orgy with omega reader and omega Changbin and the rest of the boys alphas ahaha but damn, i couldn't muster the energy. enjoy this tho! thank you :)

[hunn1e-bunn1e]

hiii i just read "your melon bread" fic of denji and IT'S SO GOOD (i smashed the follow button immediately lol)

and i saw your asks are open so can i request a part 2 of it where the next day when denji, aki and power are patrolling the town and they walked pass a bakery and denji remembered what happened yesterday and forced aki to get inside and buy him melon bread but was greeted by the reader who's family owns the bakery (this is my first time requesting so sorry if it gets confusing and feel free to ignore this if u dont want to or if it makes u uncomfortable :3)

and can i be the 🦈 anon thankksss hope u have a good morning/evening/night ^_^

Denji Hayakawa - "Half Your Melon Bread" 2

��.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.

Hey 🦈Shark anon! Sorry for the absurdly long delay, but I've finally completed your ask. At first, I was just going to ignore it since “Half Your Melon Bread” was supposed to be a one-off thing, but the more I thought about it, the more I came to like it! —Benny🐰 Part 1

                                                                                                   

🍞•♡•🥐•♡•🥖•♡•🫓•♡•🥨•♡•🥯•♡•🥞•♡•🧇

Aki was… perplexed to say the least. The fiend(?) that he had been tasked to watch over hadn't so much as muttered Makima's name since yesterday; it was kind of unsettling. All the blonde idiot seemed to do was stare off into the distance and mutter something about bread.

While the topknot-styled man was a bit relieved that he wasn't being bothered by both of the idiots under his watch; he did grow a bit concerned. It seemed as though Power had as well, judging by the hard stare that she was drilling into the side of the Chainsaw Devil hybrid's head. The strawberry blonde hadn't uttered a word since they left the house; only staring at him in silence with a deep frown on her face.

Denji himself was deep in thought. That stranger… he never got their name; they left before he could ask. He did remember their face though, so he'll definitely thank them when he sees them again and maybe they'd let him touch their chest—

Bonk!

The dirty blonde walked right into a light pole while he was distracted by his thoughts. The boy groaned as he clutched his head in a futile attempt to soothe the pain and the ringing in his ears. As he looked at what he'd run into, he saw a soft yellow light in the corner of his eye. Turning his head, he saw that he, Aki, and Power were standing in front of a bakery.

A bakery… Baking… Bread is baked… Oh! Melon bread! He could get some of that here!

Quickly, Denji walks into the building, ignoring the annoyed protests of the senior devil hunter and cheers for food from the blood fiend. The smell of buttery freshly baked dough immediately permeated his nostrils as he walked through the door. It was a comforting but hunger-inducing smell that had likely not only him, but everyone else in the building heavily salivating.

“Welcome to Chubby Bunny Bakery; I can help you right over here, Sir.”  

A voice from behind the dirty blonde draws his attention from observing the bakery's interior and to the order station.

The devil man's eyes widen as he sees the figure standing behind the display case. It was the stranger from yesterday in the park! They were holding onto a sheet pan of cookies; sliding the display case glass backing to the side and putting the pan of cookies inside.

“It's you!”  

Denji exclaims as he, rather rudely, points at them; finger only inches from their face due to how close he already was.

The stranger stares at him for a bit before they chuckles and gently grab his wrist to pull his hand down. They grab a small menu card from a stack of them that sits next to the register and place it in front of him with a small smile.

“Yes, it's me, bread boy. Did you have anything in mind already? If not, you can look at our menu here to help you decide.”  

The stranger tells him, tapping the menu card between them twice.

“Oh! Uh– melon bread. Pl—”  

The devil man was interrupted by a firm grip on his shoulder flipping him around to face an incredibly annoyed aki. 

“And what money are you going to use to pay for it? Not mine.”  

The raven-haired man asked rhetorically as he glared at the younger boy.

While Aki was talking the stranger came back to the front with a beige wax paper bag in their hand and held it out to the dirty blonde. Denji gingerly took it in his hand, ignoring his superior's irate rantings, and pulled out the glazed treat. He took a hesitant bite and his cheeks flushed a soft pink as the sweet melon flavor washed over his tongue; ignoring the aching in a few of his poorly managed teeth.

The stranger smiled at him before turning to the top-knot-baring man with their hand out expectantly. Aki sighed as he realized that he would be paying for Denji's food after all. Shoving his hand into his back pocket; he takes out his wallet and reluctantly forks over the needed amount, though not before he throws a nasty glare the younger boy's way.

“So, uh, I never got your name. Or gave you mine, really. I'm Denji.”  

The dirty blonde shyly muttered between nibbles of his sweet treat.

The stranger chuckles at his timid demeanor, figuring that he was just feeling a little embarrassed by the fact that he had no money. They rest their chin in the palm of their hand as they look him up and down; thinking about how he kind of reminds them of a dog.

“Well, nice to meet you, Denji. I'm [Name].”  

They introduce themself lazily; taking his hand in theirs and giving it a firm shake.

Suddenly though, the baked treat was snatched from the dirty blonde's hand by a wild Power as she dashed to the door.

“Sharing is caring, henchman!”  

The blood fiend shouts as she is chased out of the door by both males.

[Name] stares at the door for a few seconds before letting out an amused chuckle. What a strange bunch, they thought with a smile.

🍞•♡•🥐•♡•🥖•♡•🫓•♡•🥨•♡•🥯•♡•🥞•♡•🧇

🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.

Reblogs are appreciated ~ 𔓘

Wanna see similar content? Check out my Masterlist!

[red5tars]

all that remains, pt.1

ghost x reader; past ghoap.

cw: major character death, alcohol + drinking, simon is grieving and he is NOT happy

next

it was no surprise johnny would be forced into an early retirement. simon planned to follow him, hell, he would follow him to ends of the earth if johnny so much as hinted at it. but that wasn't the case, not this time.

or after going no contact for nearly two decades, simon riley gets the closure he's always needed with his sergeant. or rather, an extension of him.

he can hardly remember what happened.

(-security had to escort simon out of the hospital. yank him away from johnny as he yelled, cursed, told his mother that she could go fuck herself up the ass with the cross she carries in her bag-)

-the past a blur, smudged by time.

still, betrayal sticks to the back of his tongue like a bitter aftertaste. the feeling apart of him forever.

the day that johnny got shot, two matching holes were made: one ingrained into soap's head, the other in ghost's heart. time healed one while growing the other, the correlation negative. never crossing.

until now.

he reads the article over and over again, eyes darting all over the page.

local veteran. wife. daughter. car crash. multiple injuries. dead.

dead.

dead.

dead-

simon chucks his phone across the room, device shattering upon impact.

he shouldn't have asked price for more details, knowing his captain would never have spared him. then again, the last time simon talked with price was nearly a month ago, both men preferring to talk in person. unfortunately, this message couldn't wait.

according to elisabeth kübler-ross, simon should be in denial. shaking his head frantically, muttering 'no no no no no', tugging his hair and screaming till his lungs give out. yet, the first emotion that his apathetic brain can register is regret-

-days spent quietly in the woods, vows and toasts, an honest conversation, all lost when the text he's gone appeared on his screen only thirty minutes prior.

memories never created bounce around in his head, plaguing him. a ghost being haunted, how hilarious.

even when johnny was cut out from simon'a life, at the very least he knew he was still there. living and breathing, enjoying life with someone who wasn't him.

wasn't simon.

before he can spiral even further, his phone buzzes. a miracle, considering how hard he threw it. a part of him wants to break his phone, unable to cement this new reality (denial, maybe miss ross knew a thing or two).

but he's already walking, bending down to pick up the small device. his thumb hits the answer button before he can throw it again.

"i should've called first," price says, voice filled with sympathy, shielding his own grief. even decades later, his captain continues to put on a strong front. typical, but not unwelcomed.

a million responses run through simon's head; "yes, you should've", "it wouldn't have made a difference".

“you never should’ve told me. should’ve let me die an ignorance.”

"..'s fine," simon mumbles, eyes drifting down to the floor.

there's an uncomfortable silence that comes from the other end of the line. for a man who can figure out when the enemy is about to take their next breath, he's shit when it comes to comfort.

price sighs, "'s not, but not much we can do 'bout it now, huh?" he tacks on a humorless laugh at the end, which could be mistaken for another exasperated sigh.

he's right. there isn't much they can do about now. simon doesnt't even want to do anything. if he had to do something, gun to his head, he'd just pull the trigger himself and hope johnny is wherever he ends up (a low probability really. johnny believed in god and the only man simon worshipped was him).

"listen, simon," price's voice pulls him out of his thoughts, forcing him back to the present. the one where johnny is dead, "i didn't just call to talk about… him.

"they're gonna be 'osting a funeral, 'bout a week from now," he continues, simon taking every detail with a gram of salt, "gonna be in his hometown. i've been in contact with his mum considerin' the lad," (a weird word to describe him, but it makes sense. john has always been like a father figure to them all, offering guidance even outside of the trenches), "won't have a regular funeral."

a neatly folded flag, gunshots that echo of missions from years ago, and the husk of the strongest man he knows.

well, knew.

"figures," simon replies, despondent. it seems price catches on, another breath leaving him heavily, "look, i know you two weren't on the best of terms after the.. incident, but i do know that if he wanted anyone to see him off. it would be you," there's a slight rustle on price's end, a barely audible john..? reaching simon's end. price huffs, but it's filled with warmth, "woke up the missus.. listen, i'll talk to you again when everything is finalized just.. don't do anything you'd regret, simon."

it takes simon three minutes to respond, not realizing what john said wasn't a suggestion but rather an order (some things don't change, huh?).

"..yes, sir," and simon can hear the smile in his tone when john tells him 'good night'.

he didn't realize it till price left him in the static silence of his home flat, but simon didn't move a single inch during the entirety of the call. a strange superstition he had when he was younger, that if he didn't move, nothing would change. it didn't work of course. staying huddled in a corner didn't stop his father from seeking him out and beating him and his mother.

staying buried in the trenches didn't stop the enemy from firing at him.

and staying rooted in this one spot didn't change the fact that johnny mactavish was a dead man.

so much for some things not changing…

he thinks of what to do next. price ordered him to not do something he would regret, his to-do list quickly dwindling down to two options:

a) go to the funeral.

b) or don't.

to others it's an easy choice, but to simon? this would be facing the truth head first. face first.

johnny, expression contorted into something peaceful, telling a silent story of a man who lived a long fruitful life.

still, no amount of blush could hide the fact it's a corpse he'll be reuniting with.

it could do him more good than harm but what if it doesn't? what if it's then he truly snaps, impales himself on one of the many flower stands he knows will be there, removing himself only to drag his bleeding body towards his one true love.

splayed out like romeo over juliet except this isn't some shakespearean tale, star-crossed lovers and theatrical english. no, this is his reality, his purgatory made into actuality.

all that's left is to make a decision. stay or go? face the truth or don't?

it circles his head like an ugly carousel with a discordant tune, that is till his eyes land on a an unopened bottle of whiskey he got from america.

johnny had insisted on buying it when they were in the states for a mission. "we'll share it whin we git back to th' stead, lt. treat fur a jab weel done."

(they never opened it, that operation being dubbed 'the incident', followed by silence from both ends)

better late then never, simon thinks, skulking towards the bottle. the cap comes off with ease, simon swiping some dust around the spout. there's glasses somewhere in his shitty flat, a set that's engraved with their initials.

he settles on drinking straight from the source.

[doumadono]

for your sinful sunday (I'm a huge fan!) can you maybe write Dabi and reader who has a small remote control vibrator in her 😏

Warnings: smut w/o plot, pussy fingering, fem villain!reader, established relationship, semi-public, forced orgasm

A/N: this request got the highest number of votes during the fourth Sinful Sunday poll I held. Thank you to everyone who voted!

SINFUL SUNDAY MY HERO ACADEMIA

The dimly lit room was filled with the familiar faces of the League of Villains, each one deeply engrossed in some planning.

You sat at the long, battered table, trying to focus on the meeting at hand. But it was proving to be an impossible task. Every so often, your eyes would dart to the man seated beside you — Dabi, his usual smirk dancing on his lips, and his intense turquoise eyes never straying far from you.

His casual posture betrayed none of the mischief that danced in his turquoise eyes every time he glanced your way. His finger played idly with the remote control nestled in his pocket, hidden from view. “Are you paying attention?” Dabi’s voice was a low murmur, his breath warm against your ear. His lips brushed your skin, sending a shiver down your spine.

You swallowed hard, trying to maintain some semblance of composure. “Yes,” you managed to whisper, your voice slightly breathless.

“Good girl,” he murmured, his tone dripping with dark amusement.

Unbeknownst to the rest of the League, a secret thrill coursed through your body. Nestled deep inside your cunny was a small, remote-controlled vibrator, and Dabi held the reins. The mere thought of it sent shivers down your spine. The low hum of its vibrations, currently set to the lowest setting, was a constant reminder of your predicament. Yet it already made you squeeze your thighs together.

Dabi gifted you a little remote control vibrator on your first anniversary. The idea was to spice up your sex life.

Toga was rambling on about a new plan involving blood samples, but you could hardly pay attention. Every muscle in your body was on edge, anticipating the next move from Dabi. He hadn't used the remote yet, but you knew it was only a matter of time.

He pressed a button on the remote, and the intensity of the vibrations increased. 

A sharp gasp escaped your lips before you could stifle it, drawing a few curious glances from across the room. You bit your lower lip, your thighs pressing together in a futile attempt to dampen the sensations coursing through you.

Dabi’s smirk widened, his eyes glinting with satisfaction. “Careful now. Don’t want everyone to know our little secret, do we?” He looked far too pleased with himself.

You swallowed hard, trying to ignore the growing pleasure between your legs. The conversation around you became a distant buzz. You shifted in your seat, biting your lower lip to suppress a moan, resulting in you letting out a heavy sigh.

"Something wrong, Y/N?" Kurogiri’s gravelly voice cut through the haze.

You forced a smile, shaking your head. "No, nothing. Just a bit uncomfortable."

Dabi chuckled softly. "Maybe you should learn to relax," he suggested, his tone dripping with pure amusement.

You shot him a glare, which only made his grin widen. 

He upped the ante, increasing the vibrations to a medium setting. 

You shook your head, desperately trying to focus on anything other than the relentless throbbing between your legs. Each vibration seemed to pulse through your entire body, making it difficult to think, let alone participate in the meeting. Your core tightened, a slick warmth pooling within you as the pleasure built steadily, inexorably.

Across the table, Shigaraki droned on about the latest plan of his. 

You caught snippets of the conversation, but it was all a blur. Your senses were overwhelmed, your body teetering on the edge of an abyss of pleasure.

Dabi’s hand slid under the table, his fingers tracing a slow, torturous path up your thigh. The touch was electric. 

You fought to keep your breathing steady, your nails digging into the armrest of your chair as you struggled to maintain control.

“Relax,” Dabi whispered after leaning closer to you, his voice a dark caress. “Enjoy it.” His fingers found the hem of your skirt, lifting it ever so slightly. The cool air against your heated skin was a stark contrast, making you gasp again. Dabi chuckled softly, his fingers brushing against the damp fabric of your cotton panties. He traced the outline of your pussy, the touch sending jolts of pleasure through your body. “Well, well. Someone’s enjoying this,” he teased, his thick voice nothing but a whisper, his fingers pressing firmly against your clothed pussy. 

The combination of his touch and the relentless vibrations had you whimpering softly, your body aching for more. “Please,” you whispered, not even sure what you were begging for.

No one seemed to notice, their attention fixed on the discussion at hand. 

He circled your clit with the pad of his thumb, applying just enough pressure to make you squirm.  Dabi’s eyes darkened, his amusement giving way to something more primal. “Please what?” he taunted, his fingers slipping under the fabric of your panties, finding your slick, swollen folds. “Oh, you naughty, little bitch.”

You bit your lip harder, a desperate moan threatening to escape. “Please… more,” you finally managed, your voice trembling.

He didn’t need any further encouragement. Dabi’s finger slid inside you, slow and deliberate, each stroke designed to drive you wild. He added a second finger, stretching you, filling you to the brim.

The dual sensations were too much - you felt the pleasure build rapidly, a tidal wave threatening to crash over you.

"Maybe you should lie down," Twice suggested, his tone surprisingly concerned.

You shook your head, fighting to maintain a semblance of control. "No, I’ll be fine."

Dabi’s thumb found your clit, pressing and rubbing in time with his fingers fucking your slick, needy hole. His long digits were scissoring within you, fondling all of the right places.

Your body jerked, your toes curling as you neared the edge. His name slipped past your lips in a breathless whisper, your hips bucking against his hand ever so slightly. Your breath came in shallow, rapid bursts, and your heart pounded in your chest.

Shigaraki’s gaze flicked to you, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Are you sure you’re okay, Y/N? I don’t want you to infect us if you’re sick."

You forced a nod, your voice strained. "Yes, just...a bit of a headache,” a faint reply left your lips and you accented your words by rubbing your temples with shaking hands.

“Come for me,” Dabi commanded softly, covering his words with a fake cough, his voice low and commanding. He curled his fingers inside you, finding that sweet spot that made your vision blur. 

That was all it took. 

Your hips bucked involuntarily, a soft whimper slipping past your lips. You tried to disguise it with a cough, glancing around nervously. Your body obeyed, shattering into a thousand pieces as the orgasm ripped through you, your slickness gushing out and covering his rough hand. You clamped a hand over your mouth, muffling the scream that tore from your throat. Your velvety, drenched walls clenched around his fingers, the pleasure so intense it was almost painful.

Dabi’s eyes never left your face, drinking in every expression of ecstasy. He withdrew his fingers slowly, deliberately, leaving you trembling and spent. He lifted his hand to his lips, licking your essence from his fingers with a satisfied smirk. “That’s my good girl,” he murmured again, his voice a dark promise of more to come.

You slumped in your chair, your body still humming with aftershocks of pleasure. 

Shigaraki's voice cut through the discussions, his sharp eyes narrowing on you. "You indeed look shitty, Y/N," he remarked, his tone a mix of irritation and concern. "Go lie down."

Your heart skipped a beat, panic flaring. You opened your mouth to protest, but Shigaraki’s scowl deepened. "Dabi," he ordered, not giving you a chance to respond, "take her back to her room."

Dabi’s turquoise eyes met yours, and you saw the flicker of a wry smirk curling his lips. His amusement was evident, and it sent a shiver down your spine.

He stood up with a lazy stretch, his movements slow and deliberate. "Sure thing, boss," he drawled, his voice laced with dark anticipation.

The League of Villains might have their plans, but right now, all you could think about was what Dabi had planned for you next.

[dazedantics]

You let out a strangled growl, lips quirked in a smile but brows knitted in exasperation. Hands clench in and out of the shape of a fist as they're pointed in the direction of the Destroyer King's neck. It never failed. Everytime he came about he let out some snarky quips that made you want to throttle him.

Maybe he didn't mean it, maybe he just had a bad day, maybe he'd come round later to apologize, you first thought.

But no. No, he never came back, never did something to make up for it. Sure, he didn't have to, he practically ruled the city so why would he bother? But you had half a mind to think he had something personal against you (not that you knew what) since he just kept returning to this place and giving some back handed jab at your state of being or your establishment.

A "No Benimaru's Allowed" sign was a tempting idea to add to your front door. But if you did that you'd probably get less business than usual. That wouldn't be good.

So, you settled for grunting in frustration and trying to keep an air of professionalism about you.

"You know, there's a saying that 'if you have nothing nice to say, don't say it at all,' I think you could benefit from it." You spoke, turning your back to him and trying to distract yourself with the succulents on the shelf.

"There's also the fact that people who can't take criticism will never grow, you could benefit from that."

Your eye twitched.

The smile stayed firmly on your lips as you tried to contain yourself. He was so childish for someone so admired, never allowing anyone to have the last word.

He wasn't even looking at you, simply perusing the sunny room with unbothered hands shoved in his navy sleeves. His sad expression was his natural resting pose, you knew that, but it only further irked you.

"You are the bane of my existence, Shinmon. You make me want to strangle you which is very unfortunate cause I also really want to kiss you. You're a big heartless oaf and I hate having to put up with your check-ins everyday."

"See? That's why business is always so slow. Can't keep friendly with that mouth."

More uncomfortable groans threatened to escape you and you ran frustrated hands through your hair.

The captain finally turned to you, stepping forward as you breathed out cursed obscenities. Dark rouge eyes seemed to tear into your very soul and you found yourself wishing he went back to ignoring you.

For each step forward you took a step back, stopping only when the dark wood behind you forced you to do so. A firm forearm was pressed against the wall just above your head, caging you between it and the shameless fire captain. Your heart beat faster with what you couldn't tell was fear, anger, or anticipation. Perhaps all three.

"And you should straighten out those feelings of yours before making such big statements like that."

He was making you uncomfortably hot, his natural heat starting to seep into your clothes. His breath smelt of warm cider and rich spices.

"Yeah, like you've ever done the same." You scoffed. It was getting hard to look him in the eyes. His soft, round beautiful eyes.

He shrugged, "maybe not," then leaned closer till his straight nose brushed against your own, "but I know how and when to take action. You could learn a thing or two from me if you didn't waste your time mulling over stupid contradictions."

There wasn't room for response as the captain's lips locked on yours. Brash and hungry, sucking and nipping whenever desired, free hand reaching up to cradle your neck and cheek to guide you further. Firm and deftly, the fire making all your senses freeze and melt with the sensations. You weren't sure this was the same intolerable guy anymore.

When he pulled back, you were stiff and flaming, practically short circuiting, but he was unbothered as ever. As if he hadn't just enacted the most heart jerking moment in your life. His plump lips still curled down into their pout, his eyes still turned down sadly, his fair skin still undisturbed by any pink hue.

He settled his hands back into his sleeves, "maybe now you'll learn to act first, complain later. It'll save ya plenty of time." Then he left the shop as if he was going though the same old routine.

You were completely baffled. Did he really just leave like that? Should you be mad? How were you going to get on with your day now? And every other day to follow?

You would never understand him.

"... I thought you were supposed to stop fires, not ignite them ...."

[appleblueberry-pie]

I saw your yandere Miguel asks and I had to rush in! How would Yan Miguel feel when he has a S/O who loathes him? I'm talking about actively throwing insults at him, yelling at him if he gets too close to them or even trying to fight or attack him because he kidnapped her against her own will?

You can ignore this if u want!

Bittersweet.

Miguel often tries to find a sweet excuse for why you act the way that you do.

Yes, you did empty all of the contents of the medicine cabinet into the toilet and flushed them away. Yes, you threw his toothbrush and yours into the trash can.

Yes, you busted all of the windows of his extremely high high-rise apartment windows open before he could get back in time to stop you from causing too much damage.

Yes, you cut all possible electrical wires in the house(at least you had the sense to unplug everything before cutting it).

Yes, you took all food in the refrigerator and dumped it into the washing machine, ran 3 cycles on hot water and completely destroyed it.

Yes, you took his clothes and the ones he made you wear and burned them all somehow(you never could figure out how to work the very techy stove, but that day you could. He changed it to a more complicated one).

Yes, you hid in the closet often.

Yes, you would skip your meals(he didn't have the heart to force feed you himself).

Yes, you would scream at the top of your lungs at him, even though you were clearly tiring yourself out.

Yes, you would often try to break into his extremely important work office to destroy absolutely any progress he made on his work(you almost managed to break in at least three times).

Yes, you would threaten to "get him" in his sleep if you had to sleep in the same room as him.

Yes, you would spit threats and insulting words to him all night if he made you "try" to sleep in the same room as him.

Yes, you made him lose sleep.

Yes, you would often cry in the closet, the only space he didn't try to bother you in.

Yes, you would ignore him, and yes, you would try to keep as much distance as possible.

But it's understandable that you act that way. You were just a little scared, is all. You were ripped from a place you felt most comfortable in and thrown into this new environment, he understands that. So, he tries to take as much care of you as possible.

He would remain as patient as possible with you, not minding having to replace anything, knowing he has the money for it. He would let you have your little moment before trying to get closer. Bath time was the hardest for you, but he tried to respect as many boundaries that he could. And this goes for all moments he's had with you. The last thing he wants is to make you as uncomfortable as possible with him. So, he stays patient and talks to you how he knew you deserved and plays the waiting game. He has his whole life and yours to wait for you to finally let him take care of you...........

Miguel leaned against the doorframe to your personal bedroom which was trashed to hell and back, with you sitting against the wall, knees to chest as you stared him down. Miguel's eyes held nothing but concern. Nothing even really happened today, and everything you do always has a reason behind it. He thought you were finally beginning to relax, today almost being your three-day streak of leaving the house alone.

"Baby-" "Get the fuck out."

Miguel blinked and shut his mouth. But then he sighs and slumps his shoulders, walking in. You tensed and scooted towards the closest corner of the room. "Y/n, I'm tired." You could see the exhaustion written on his face as his feet almost dragged against the floor, getting closer to you. You smushed yourself into the corner some more.

"You've been doing this too long, and it's getting childish. Really." His eyebrows scrunched as he watches you pick up a broken wooden piece of your once beautiful bedframe. "Please put that down." The silents grows as you hold the piece of wood tighter and Miguel shakes his head.

"You have to........you have to stop messing up the place. I can't keep replacing the things you destroy, and I can tell your voice is being overworked from how much screaming and crying you've been doing. Please, mi cielo, just stop pushing yourself-" He catches the plank that you chucked his way and drops it on the floor.

"Don't do this to me."

"I'll stop if you let me go."

Miguel sighs and looks to the side, his patience running more thin by the second. "You know I can't do that." He mutters. You hold yourself tighter. "Then I won't stop. I won't stop trying to kill you and won't stop fucking things up until you let me go. I won't." You shake your head and felt your eyes glossing over. Was he really going to not let you go?

You didn't want to keep doing anything that you had done and probably will continue to do. But you can't just let your captor have the pleasure of enjoying you while your mind rots away. There was no way in hell you were going to give in. You felt your breath quicken and began blinking multiple times. Miguel saw you beginning to cry and tried to get closer to comfort you. This was the most conversation he was ever able to get out of you. Maybe he had a chance?

You plant your hands on the ground and shake your head. "No, leave me alone. Stop it!" When he continues to step forward, you take the risk of slipping between him and the wall to run off. Miguel easily grabs your upper arm and you try to pull against him as hard as you can, which obviously wasn't that hard for him to continue holding you. You quickly scan the room, but it was useless, knowing he wouldn't let you reach down to the ground to grab something else to get him with.

So you just kept pulling. You yanked your arm, jerking your body as you attempted to free yourself from his hold. And usually, it would work the first few times, but for some reason he just wouldn't let you go. Miguel tried to tell you to stop, to calm down, anything, but the words went right over your head as you continued to yank yourself again and again. Each pull felt more painful than the last and when you felt your heart aching from exhaustion, you pulled even harder.

Miguel tried. Tried so hard to be patient with you. It's been an extremely difficult these past three months. Three months of your temper tantrums, of you screaming into his face, of you trashing his home that he wanted to make as accessible to you as possible. Three months of his work being put on hold because of you. All of his problems currently have all been tied to you, and a part of him wished it really really didn't have to come to this. He wished he had more self control, because you deserve more than his anger. He wished he wasn't your biggest fear at this moment.

But the more you yanked to get away from his hold, the more you yanked at his mind and the more his tongue felt compelled to speak the words he usually never let get past his basic thought process.

His jaw clenched and his hold became three times stronger and you whimpered, finally feeling what he had been holding back on and his voice boomed throughout the house.

"ENOUGH!"

You immediately froze.

Your muscles and mind completely stilled as Miguel's huffs and puffs of anger rang in the air. His voice continued to rattle in your mind even when the house went silent. He never yelled at you before.

"You fucking done? Hm?" He pulled you to make eye contact with him and he only grew more frustrated with that stupid fearful look on your face.

"Ah. There you go with that look on your face again. I know you know that you're too old to be acting like a fuckin' 6 year old." He watches your face slowly twist into one of annoyance and he raises his eyebrow.

"I'm sick of your attitude, I'm sick of that fucking mouth of yours, I'm sick of you misbehaving, and everything else you ruined!! I'M taking care of you. This is my house." Miguel seemed to tower over you in this moment. In a way you weren't used to. No matter how pissed you were, how much you wanted to talk shit to him in this moment, you couldn't, knowing he had reached his limits. You completely underestimated him. ".......you don't want to know about the original house rules I wanted to put in place before I caught you." He lets you go, but you stay in place.

"But it seems like I have to treat you like a little girl. Es eso lo que quieres? Quieres que papi te enseñe a comportarte como una buena chica?"(Is that what you want? Do you want daddy to teach you how to behave like a good girl?)

He pinches his nose bridge and scans the room once more. "We can start here. This is the worst you've ever done, dios mio. Pisses me off." He then looks back down at you before gesturing his hands, as if expecting you to do something. "...Well, clean this mess up." You frown and he scoffs in annoyance. "What's that face? What? Did I spoil you by cleaning up your messes? You know what, I have a better idea." (My god.)

He gestures to outside of the bedroom. "You clean up your room, and then I'll give you a toothbrush to scrub the kitchen and bathroom floor. When you're done scrubbing every single inch of the ground, you'll mop- stop making that face, I'm not done. You're going to mop both of those floors...." He walks into the bathroom connected to your room and grabs your toothbrush before tossing it to you. "Once the floor dries, do the dishes, clean the oven, wipe the windows, tables, counters, everything. Got it?" You purse your lips in response.

"Good. This is your punishment for today. The rest continues tomorrow. I still don't know if I want to punish you myself or just lock you up for the day. Maybe I'll have you choose, hm?" He softly caresses your cheek with love you never allowed him to give you before pecking your forehead.

"I'm glad you learned to shut your damn mouth. Only God knows what I would've done to make you stop talking." He smiles softly before leaving the room. "I'll be back home in an hour. This place better be spotless."

With his back facing you, he leaves you, knowing you have no choice but to follow his advice.

[slutforitoshi]

mikage reo - star student *:･ﾟ✧

ft. reo x f!reader, 18+ minors dni

cw: CORRUPTION KINK, virgin!mc, praise, oral m!receiving and f!receiving, fingering

synopsis: your dear upperclassman teaches you a few new tricks

wc: 1.85k

A/N: confession i was a reo anti until i read the manga LOL

mikage reo is the poster boy for model upperclassman. smart, athletic, and breathtakingly handsome. unlike other seniors he didn’t seem to view the younger years with distaste. after all, he was one of them just a few semesters ago. his generosity knew no bounds, from comped meals to private tutoring lessons. and you happened to be one of those pupils; a sprout eager to learn from the best. 

initially you sought out reo’s help since you happened to hear that he was the first in your school’s history to ace all the physics exams, a subject you were dreadful at. you expected the relationship to be cordial, professional even, but reo’s welcoming disposition made it hard to stay away. 

before you knew it he was assisting you with much more than physics, guiding you even in your personal life. that’s why it didn’t even occur to you as strange to blurt out, “i think i’m finally going to lose my virginity this weekend”

reo’s pencil that was currently scribbling away at his planner grinds to a halt, leaving only the slight hum of your ceiling fan to break the silence. 

shit. you’ve made things awkward. 

“oh my god i’m so sorry i don’t know why i said that,” you apologize immediately, realizing the vulgarity of your words. reo was your senior, and while he has helped you with relationship problems before, you should’ve known this was a leap further than that.

reo turns to you with a light smile though, relieving the regret you felt in your stomach. 

“what’s there to be sorry about? i’m glad you trust me to talk about it” he reassures you, in classic reo fashion. 

“are you sure? i don’t want to make you uncomfortable…” your voice trails off, but reo’s eyes don’t waver. his dear underclassman has a concern, and who else but him to help?

“well…ok. i’ve just been feeling left behind recently in that whole category. all my friends keep talking about their recent hookups, and it’s lame that i haven’t done anything past kissing”

reo’s eyebrows furrow in concern, “don’t tell me you want to have sex because of peer pressure.”  

“no no it’s nothing like that” you quickly shut down his unease, “i just feel like i’m ready for it. i want to join my friends.”

he slowly nods his head, taking in your true thoughts. 

“so how are you gonna do it? are you seeing anyone?”

“nah i was just gonna go to a party and find some semi-cute guy” you shrugged, and it’s clear by his expression that this was the worst idea he’s ever heard.

“you’re gonna settle for some random guy at a party, who will probably be mediocre at best in bed?” he spat, eyes narrowing at the prospect.

you’ve never seen reo like this, almost bitter at your proposed idea.

“i don’t see any other good options” you murmured. there probably were, but those other options included waiting, and you’ve had enough of that.

reo presses his fingertips to his temples, closing his eyes for a moment. 

“you think physics is the only thing i can help you with?”

he opens his eyes, turning towards you with such a piercing stare that it sends shivers down your spine. 

“n-no, of course not. you’ve helped me with loads of things before like math, biology-” you ramble, trying to ignore the quickening pace of your heartbeat. sure you were a virgin, but you weren’t naive. 

“i won’t force you. i’m just expanding your options” his eyes don’t leave you, and as much as you want to hide from his directness, you can’t seem to look away. as much as you wanted to run away, to say no, the growing heat in your abdomen has already made the decision for you. 

“p-please reo, i’m all yours”

“that’s my good girl.”

he places his right hand at the nape of your neck, then pulling you into his lips. gentle, you noted. his kisses showed no sign of aggression or neediness like you’ve experienced from the select few boys you’ve made out with before, but that’s not to say it wasn’t passionate. 

you break the kiss first, leaving your chair to kneel down before his. 

“can i?” you ask, looking intently at the bulge peaking through reo’s pants.

“eager aren’t we” he smirks, pulling down his waistband to reveal your first cock. and it’s impressive. your eyes widen at the length before you, mouth watering. you look up eagerly, lunging forward to envelop the head around your lips as reo gives an encouraging nod. 

“f-fuckk” he gasps, taking in the warmth of your mouth. it’s heavenly. 

you push your limits, inch by inch, until you feel him hit the back of your throat, and the sensation launches you off suddenly. 

“you alright?” reo sits forward, caressing your back as you cough through the result of your eagerness. you nod though, pushing him back into the chair. 

“wanna try again” you murmur, eyes fixated on your conquest. you wrap your lips around him again, taking note of the ache the girth inflicts on your jaw. it’s not an unpleasant feeling, and the view of reo’s eyes rolled back makes it all worth it. 

this time you don’t recoil from the hit, and start your trek up, then down, then up.

“focus on the tip, it’s sensitive there” he instructs, and you oblige, intensifying the bobbing motion near his ridge.

“circle your tongue around it” reo barely finishes his thought before you’re complying to his demands. 

reo’s fingers are digging into chair’s arms, leaving crescent shaped imprints. he couldn’t tell what was more pleasurable: the feeling of your tongue against his tip, or how fucking obedient you were. 

“such a good girl for me, learning so fast”

you hum in content at his praise, sending vibrations that nearly push reo to the edge. that’s enough he thinks, it’s time for the next lesson.

he sits up suddenly, and his cock leaves you with a ‘pop’. you try to object at the sudden emptiness, but he’s already pulling you up, guiding you to the bed. 

“sit back for me, and keep your legs spread” he instructs, tying his purple strands back to keep away from the mess that will surely follow. 

you do as he says, revealing the growing damp spot on the panties underneath your skirt. he dives in, wrapping his arms around your thighs to pull you forward abruptly until his face is hovered above your heat. 

“r-reo-” your eyes widen at the sudden movement, but your voice morphs into a moan as he licks a long stripe above the cloth. 

“let me show you what you deserve” he peels off the drenched panties off your legs, marveling at your glistening folds. 

he makes haste, lunging forward to bury himself between your thighs. the sensation of the soft muscle of his tongue immediately makes you buck your hips forward. 

“f-fuck!” you splutter out, mind blanking as he circles your clit. he had you wondering why on earth you waited so long. strands of purple leaked through your knuckles as you held his head in place. 

a familiar coil builds, one that you’ve only felt through from your own efforts before. 

“you’re close aren’t you?” he smirks briefly before diving in again to chase after your high. 

stars dance across your half closed lids once he adds a finger into your entrance. it’s a stretch you’ve never felt before, but the feeling was more than welcome. then the addition of a second finger has your head falling back against the backboard. 

“your virgin pussy’s so tight” he remarks, noticing how cramped the hole was with only two digits in. his vulgar words brought a blush to your face; who knew the mikage reo could talk so dirty?

the curling of his fingers is what brings you over the edge, until you’re thrashing against the sheets while reo uses his free arm to hold your hips down. 

“how was that for your first orgasm?” 

“so…so good” you manage through your pants. it left you breathless, but he wasn’t finished with you yet. 

reo briefly gets up to roll a condom on while you recover. shit, it’s happening. you were about to kiss your virginity goodbye. 

“i’m gonna go nice and slow okay?” he says, positioning himself above you. a light kiss is placed on your forehead before you feel the tip nudge at your entrance. and then he pushes.

your eyes squeeze shut at the intrusion, nails raking at reo’s back to offset the pain. 

“deep breaths, it’s almost all the way in” he whispers, trying not to cum himself from the absolute bliss that your pussy gives him. 

you both let out a sigh as he bottoms out, and he stills himself, waiting for confirmation to move. 

“please reo” you whine, “make me feel good”

his eyes darken at your pleads, and a flash of possessiveness passes his mind. you were so fragile, and yet here you were begging him to ruin you. 

he builds his pace gradually, knowing the stretch must still cause you discomfort. but by the third thrust, your loud moans were a clear indicator of the pleasure wracking your body. 

“r-reo, feels amazing” 

he responds to your praise with a firm grip on your waist, pulling you in deeper against him, “yeah? don’t you ever settle for anything less than this”

you almost yelp as he scoops one arm around your back to flip you. you’re on your knees now as he’s laid back against the mattress, still buried completely within you.

“want to learn how to ride?” he suggests, lip twitching upwards in a suggestive smile. the challenge was daunting, but a star student like you wouldn’t back down. 

you place your palms against his taut chest, shakily raising yourself up before crashing back down. 

“fuck, you’re a natural” he groans as you sink down again. 

the new position has his tip kissing your cervix, and it’s not long before your thighs are giving out. 

“looks like you need some help” he teases before his hands are supporting your hips, guiding you up and down his length. by the way your walls were fluttering, he could tell you were reaching another high. reo decides to add even more assistance by taking a free hand towards your clit, rubbing circles onto the sensitive bud. 

your body goes slack at the sudden onset of pleasure, but reo has no problem making up for your efforts to ride, still thrusting upwards at impressive speeds. 

“c-cumming again!” you exclaim again before clamping hard against his cock. your pulsating walls are enough for him to unload as well, thrusting erratically to maximize both your orgasms.

you collapse against his chest, limbs completely drained of energy. he laughs lightly at the state he left you in before wrapping his arms around your back and laying another kiss to the side of your temples. 

“reo how am i supposed to fuck anyone else after this” you whine, “you set the bar too high”

“who said we were done? you still have much more to learn”