#there was a walk with lights and decorations!!!

[madamechrissy]

Mafia! Prettyboy Gojo headcanons

Pairings: Mafia Boss Gojo x bartender F! Reader

EXPLICIT- MDNI- sexual content, oral (m and f recieving) fingering, teasing, lowkey obsessed Gojo behavior (he's whipped)), ❄️ drug use, mafia ties/drug dealinggg, mentions of blood and violence, strip club/mafia AU. This will be a new story for Gojo from Pour it Up (Stripclub owner Sukuna x reader)- likely a mini series- I would suggest reading it too so you'll see his personality, but can be a standalone

comment to get on the taglist for the full version!!

Mafia! Pretty Boy Gojo who just finds everything so boring, even snorting lines off pretty stripper's bodies, even drinking with his best friend and partner in crime, Suguru. These meetings and those things, and this job, and this drop, blah. Negotiations!? Pfft. No he wants something fun and no amount of fruity drinks or sugar up the nose is cutting it anymore.

Mafia! Pretty Boy Gojo has his drink getting filled by one dancer, sipping it and finding it much too harsh, he stands up then, as Sukuna chuckles 'need it even more of a lil bitch drink?' Satoru rolls his blue eyes, flipping Sukuna off then saying 'it's not sweet enough!' Satoru walks out into the humming club then, faltering as he sees a girl that must be new, in a black bra, black booty shorts and fishnets that are glowing under the blacklights. His eyes trail slowly up and down her body, filling him with filthy images as he finally meets her eyes- your eyes.

Mafia! Pretty Boy Gojo who is usually so cocky and arrogant just stands there for a minute, like you're bringing him right out of some haze he's been in, as he feels your eyes looking right back, nervous smile on your pretty face. 'New here, sweetheart?' he asks, voice husky and deep, probably the prettiest damn person you've ever seen, for a moment you can't answer, blue eyes swirling and bright even under the club's dark lights and through the smoke and fog, you feel his gaze on your body as you're leaning over the side of the bar. 'I am new'

Mafia! Pretty Boy Gojo can't get your name out of his mind, as you bite your lower lip, focusing on making his drink - 'the first of the new job, you're special' you tease, and Satoru manages to get some of his charm together, chuckling as he leans over the bar. 'I am special, hmm?' you wonder why he wants that many sugary concoctions in one drink, but god it's the best drink, and he has to murmur 'bet you taste even better' earning your blush even under the flashing lights, 'huh?' he just brushes back your hair, smirking before he walks off, bombarding Sukuna with questions about you.

Mafia! Pretty Boy Gojo specifically requests you sit with him during the next meeting, as they discuss the Zenin family and the Kamo family, two other big names in the Mob scene, but now he gets to focus on you, as he decorates your collarbone with snowy powder, snorting it off you, while you can't stop a little whimper. No one hears it but him, and it makes him feral, cock throbbing as your hips shift, his eyes notice every movement until they close, and he licks the residue off your throat, hot tongue making your mind go insane with images of just what that long pink tongue can do.

Mafia! Pretty Boy Gojo finds these meetings about the business so much more fun now, but instead of looking at any of the strippers, he's only looking at you, at your pretty eyes, plump lips parted as you look at him, and he wonders how pretty you'll look cumming just for him. When they're all leaving the meeting in the VIP room the next time, you can't stop yourself, sitting on his damn thigh, wetness making your panties sticky, and you look at him then. 'Need something, sweets?' he murmurs, smirking like an arrogant little ass, as his hand slips up and down your thigh, and he's been edging you for just too long, so you break - 'touch me, please Mr. Gojo'

Mafia! Pretty Boy Gojo dies internally at your request, precum already making his boxers stick as he finds your clit under this slutty skirt you have on, rolling a fingertip over a twitchy clit, and your head falls back, 'mnh, s'good!' you whine, grinding on his thigh, but it's just not enough for Satoru, he turns you so you're straddling him on this red velvet couch, he looks dangerous but somehow sweet, as you clutch his suit jacket, and he sinks two fingers in your cunt, pressing against that spongy spot in your slick walls, making your cunt drool down to his pretty silver rolex, those sleeves of his coated with you as you roll your hips, moaning, back arching - 'shh, sweets, don't want anyone t'hear this slutty cunt, hmm?'

Mafia! Pretty Boy Gojo has the most ridiculous, long thick fingers you've ever felt, you're closer and closer as he continues curling them inside your eager hole, your lips just a breath from his as your hands now enwrap in his silky white locks, grinding even more on his hand, as he chuckles softly, his breath ghosting over your lips. 'need me to play with that little clit, too?' you nod weakly - 'sure things, pretty girl, there you go, that's it' you're shattering now, and Satoru is watching, while his thumb presses over your twitchy clit, and you're cumming so hard you feel dizzy, pussy pulsing and dripping down his fingers, trembling thighs on either side of him.

Mafia! Pretty Boy Gojo sighs at how pretty you are, slipping those two fingers in your mouth, smirking and murmuring 'suck them clean, be a good girl for me' and you eagerly obey, before he grabs your hair by the nape of your neck, slamming your lips down on his. You both get interrupted by a very amused Sukuna then, who says 'let her get to work Satoru, or you need to get behind the bar and shake your ass' Satoru chuckles as you're blushing furiously, and he helps you adjust your skirt and panties, 'give her the day off tomorrow, I'll pay to cover someone' Sukuna sighs 'whatever' he grumbles, you blink then, looking down at his grinning face 'Satoru I can't afford to take off' he doesn't know the bills you have, the situation you have to take care of with your family, to help them, he sighs then 'I'll pay you four times your shift to just date me'

Mafia! Pretty Boy Gojo has never really gone on a date, no he just has girls on his arm, under him on his bed, he certainly didn't have to even try to do something like offer money, but he'd offer anything for a chance at you. You all don't end up going anywhere, though, because once you're in the back of Satoru's limo, and he's doing a line off your inner thigh, he starts licking at it, and before you know it he's dragged your panties off, burying his pretty face right in your pussy. 'ah, Mr. Gojo!' he leans up as he swipes the flat of his tongue from your drooling little hole to your clit, pressing a kiss on it 'Satoru, while you're cummin' all over m'face, hmm baby? taste s'fucking sweet' Satoru dives back in and the sounds of him slurping you up are obscene

Mafia! Pretty Boy Gojo licks and sucks your clit, humming on it until you're shattering, cumming so hard you see stars, then you're riding him right in that limo, struggling to take his huge cock, as it stretches your tight little pussy out, veiny and thick and sloppy, he moans into your mouth as your walls tighten around his cock, as he slams up endlessly into your pretty cunt over and over. You're on your knees, sucking his cum off him, off his pretty pink tip, before you're on your knees right in the plush limo seat, and he's hitting it from the back, making you cry out 'Satoru!' which makes him bust again, inside you so deep, pulling out and watching your arousal and his cock drip down so messy, before he scoops his sticky cum and shoves it back inside you.

Mafia! Pretty Boy Gojo can't stop thinking of how good it looked, your pussy sucking up the cum so greedy, when he sees you the next day at your work, and it's not long until he's behind the bar, eating your pussy that he cannot get enough of, all while you're trying to work, you're so cute trying to mix a drink when his tongue is on your clit, and you're squeaking at him, 'Satoru, s-stop' but he can't stop. He's got your panties in his pocket, he'll keep them for later, you shouldn't worry about that, but you're trembling with nerves and fear when he runs out to deal with the Zenin bullshit with everyone, worried about things you don't fully know yet.

Mafia! Pretty Boy Gojo is dying to get back to you, he doesn't wanna deal with all this shit, he just wants to drink you up more, but here he is, as he deals with some of the bullshit that the Zenins are doing, he can't stand them then, when he has to actually show them just who and what the Gojo family is. When he is covered in blood, him, Suguru, Toji and Sukuna come back to the club, exhausted, when you see him you blink back tears, and he murmurs 'come to my place, clean me up?' He is exhaling and shooting that smirk, but there's so much behind it, you see now. You eagerly obey, realizing you both don't know anything about each other yet, as you're bandaging his pretty face, all cut up, in his pristine bathroom, and you're wondering just what it is that Satoru has gotten into, but for now you both just kiss, his blood tangy against your lips, as his kiss gets hungry, desperate, and he murmurs 'I need you'

Mafia! Pretty Boy Gojo He's smearing that blood across your pretty tits as he has you right on his bathroom counter, knowing he'll do anything to protect you, to keep you, from shit you will now get into for being with him, cupping your face as he fucks into you, and your eyes roll back in your skull, covered in Satoru's spit, his blood, now his precum as he's pumping in and out of you, knowing he certainly can't let you go, but he also can't let anyone know you're his weakness.

Comment to get tagged when this is a full story hehe- prob gonna be a good 30k long or more knowing me, Satoru is gonna be kinda insane <3

permatags: @alt--er--love @seeing-stars-alt @indiewritesxoxo @nanasukii28 @makingtimemine @cuntphoric @loafteaw @aldebrana @n1vi @miizuzu @beachaddict48 @honeybunnnnie @re-tired-succubus @gojosukuna2268 @waterfal-ling @1brii @wise-fangirl @moncher-ire @orikixx @uhnosav @baepsays  @designerpvssy @moonlitwitchdaisy -@harpersbazaaruhatake @strychnynegirl @jinjen - taglist for this already - @moonchhu @thikcems (and I know @antisocialinlw and @alygator77 will wanna see hehe)

[sarahsangelicdoll]

‘𝑜𝒽 𝓂𝓇 𝒸𝓊𝓅𝒾𝒹, 𝓌𝒽𝑜 𝒶𝓂 𝒾 𝒹𝑒𝓈𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑒𝒹 𝓉𝑜 𝒷𝑒 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽?’

༯ Summary: After a fight with his dad on valentines eve, mr cupid decides to direct JJ to your house

༯ the cupids enchantings event

a/n: had fun writing this :)) lowk had me smiling giggling and kicking my feet 🤭

༯ Content warning: Child abuse, cringey confessions lmao, descriptions of blood and wounds, possibly too much detail in reader disinfecting JJs wounds 😅, not explicit but just long, overall fluffy.

JJ’s feet were moving. Just moving. He had no idea where he should go, Kiara’s parents would never let him in. John B was gone off wherever for the night. Heyward would maybe let him stay over, but they were too far and it was pouring outside.

Then, while walking he spotted an all too familiar cabin like house. Surprisingly looking nice and in good condition for being on the cut. Flowers decorating the front yard, well kept and cared for grass that seemed to shine a bright green despite being dark and gloomy out.

The window at the front of the house was bright, illuminating a bit of the front yard and JJ could see your form sitting on the couch. As if the light and your presence was guiding him, he found himself just in front of your door without even realizing it.

You and JJ were part of the same friend group, however not particularly close. JJ always tried to keep his distance from you- ‘no pogue on pogue macking’ is what he always said, although he started doubting the rule whenever he was close to you. JJ cared to much for his ego so he would rather ignore you then risk his feelings getting the better of him. Everyone caught onto the fact he was avoiding you- it was painfully obvious. But JJ constantly brushed it off as if they were overthinking.

JJ sucked in a deep breath as he stood outside your door. The pain in his cheek, nose and forehead was overbearing and he had a particularly bad cut on his cheek. He glanced over your figure that was sat on the couch, your knees brought up to your chest as you watched TV and stirred whatever drink you had. He almost felt too bad to knock at your door- you two weren’t particularly close and here he was about to bother you with his issues. But just as his mind decided his body was going to turn and walk away, his body retaliated and knocked on your door, no backing down now.

JJ could hear and see the illuminated light move as you got up, probably confused as to who would be knocking on your door not only in this weather but at this time of night. His breath caught in his throat once he heard the door unlock and open.

Your breath also caught in your throat- not necessarily at seeing JJ of all people at your door, but at seeing the state he was in. Bloody nose and forehead. His cheek bleeding too much to be left by itself. And the realization that this was most likely the work of his father. How a father could do that to their own son? you had no idea.

You sighed, quickly knowing what this situation was, attempting to hide the pity in your eyes as to not bother JJ. “C’mon..” You mumbled. Moving out of the way and motioning with your head for JJ to come in.

The blonde reluctantly walked in. For some reason not expecting you to seem so… calm. Maybe it was just his anxiety talking and saying that you’d be upset at him for disrupting your peace. “Sorry.. just.. had nowhere to go..” JJ grumbled as he took his hat off and fiddled with it in his hands. His hair messily falling over his face.

You walked past him and into your kitchen, not understanding why he was apologizing. “It’s fine, better here than some random place or your house.” You said, giving JJ a soft smile as you grabbed some cloth from a drawer and a variety of disinfectant sprays, followed by bandages. “Want a hot chocolate maybe? Got some strawberry hot chocolate for valentines.” You offered, trying to ease the discomfort in the room.

“Uh.. yeah. Sure.” JJ said, attempting to appear nonchalant despite the fact your presence was making his heart do leaps. The way you effortlessly eased the tension, the way your presence was free of any slight hint of annoyance, the way your presence was filled with silent understanding and care.

“K, made with water or milk?” You asked. Setting the disinfectant items down on the counter to reach up for a cup.

JJ’s brows furrowed slightly at your suggestion. Milk? why the hell would you use milk? “Waters fine.” He said, smiling awkwardly as he shifted his weight onto one of his legs, standing in one place as if you’d get mad at him for moving.

You looked over at him, smiling softly as you chuckled. “You can come over?” You said as if it was a question. Flicking the kettle on. You watched him walk into your rather small, isle like kitchen, leaning your back into the counter and crossing your arms across your chest.

JJ eyed your kitchen. It was nicely organized and had not new items, rather old ones, but you clearly took care of them. He stopped just next you, placing his hat down onto the counter as he mimicked your own position. “So ah uh… what are you watching?” He asked dumbly, as if the sound of mean girls wasn’t very much clear in the background.

You chuckled, leaning up off the counter and towards the cabinet as the water started boiling. “Mean Girls.” You replied simply, well aware of how awkward JJ felt. After all, the two of you weren’t close.

You grabbed a small, pink chocolate heart out of a pack of four, one now two due to your own hot chocolate and JJ’s own, and put the pack away. Turning back to the kettle you pulled out a mug from the rack of drying dishes. “Wanna watch something else?” You asked. At the click of the kettle, signifying it was finished boiling, you took it off its little plate and poured it into a mug, following by dropping the chocolate heart into it.

“No- it’s fine.” He said, watching your movements and how the heart of chocolate, tinged with the flavour of Strawberry, started melting into the cup.

You hummed as a reply. Handing JJ his mug and grabbing your tools for cleaning JJ’s wounds. “Come,” You said simply as you made way for the living room. You stopped at your couch, turning on the lamp that rested on the couch side table. Sitting down you rested your back against the arm of the couch, sprawling out the items in front of you.

JJ sat down on the other side of the small couch, criss-cross applesauce style, looking at the array of bandages and disinfectant stuff. He felt that they were un-needed, but he knew that it’d be useless to say no. So he simply let you arrange your stuff. He took the cloth from your hands once you handed it to him, looking at you questionably. “Hold it onto your cheek to stop or lessen the bleeding.” You said simply with a small smile.

JJ did as you said. Wincing at the feeling but holding down nevertheless. His eyes glanced to the tv that was the only other thing, next to the bedside lamp, illuminating the room. His eyes trailed back down to you. You were pouring a bit of Hydrogen Peroxide disinfectant onto a smaller cloth. The other items you had were baby wipes, bandages and white petroleum lotion. JJ couldn’t help but smirk at your dedication to cleaning his stupid wounds. Always so thoughtful.

After about a minute you pulled out a baby wipe, smiling softly as you reached up to pull his arm down and started cleaning the blood and guck around the wounds, being particularly careful on his cheek. JJ glanced down awkwardly, attempting to ignore how his heart fluttered in his chest.

Next, you picked up the cloth with the disinfectant. “It might sting a bit.” You warned before placing it down onto his cheek. JJ almost flinched away but didn’t, instead hissing in a breath. You gently wiped at the wounds before bringing the cloth down and folding it. Grabbing the bottle of disinfectant and spraying it on all three wounds.

JJ flinched again, moving away from the spray. “Jesus is all that really necessary?” He asked as he ignored the irritation swelling on the wounds that mixed with a stinging sensation.

You chuckled at his words, letting the spray sit for a couple seconds before bringing the cloth up to wipe away all the pus and guck that started forming on top the wound. “Yes it is. So that it can prevent infection.”

JJ couldn’t help the blush that formed on his face as he finally looked at you. Seeing the unyielding focus and care in your eyes. He could feel the warmth of your body on his and you were the closest you ever were to him. His heart did flips when he heard your quiet sigh as you pulled away the cloth and reach down for the white petroleum lotion.

You opened the cap of the lotion and poured a bit onto your finger. Closing the lid with your knee you plopped the bottle back down, dapping your other finger into the small bit on the tip of your right pointer finger, before diverting your attention back up. You smiled as you locked eyes with him; missing the way he was looking at you with nothing but love and adoration.

You gently placed the bit of cream over the wound on his forehead, forming a thin layer. The white petroleum also stung a bit but not as much as the bloody hydrogen peroxide.

JJ watched you, admiring every bit of your face and focused expression. He was feeling himself grow increasingly more confident and wanting to do nothing but just say how he feels out loud in this exact moment.

You moved your finger back down to get a bit more of the lotion before placing it onto the wound on his nose. “Sorry if it hurts a bit, almost done. Just got your cheek next and then bandages.” You said, your voice half distracted with focus.

And that’s when it came out; “I love you.”

Ok, JJ had to admit that was a tad bit of dramatic- but it left his mouth before he could even think about it. The words left him in a quick breath. He gulped as he watched your eyes widen and your movements freeze. Your own breath catching in your throat. It took you a couple seconds to process what he said before you let out a breathy chuckle.

“Bullshit.” You said chuckled, dapping your finger into the lotion again, gathering more this time as you shifted to the wound on his cheek next. “You’re just feeling emotional because all the stuff that happened tonight.” You said simply. Attempting to ignore the way your brain was hoping he was being 100% honest. How much you yearned to be this close to him and hear him say those words.

JJ didn’t know what it was tonight, but he was feeling very bold in this moment. He leaned away from your touch just as you finished applying the thin layer. He took your hand in his as he looked at you with an expression more firm than before. “No. I mean it completely y/n- You just… have such a comforting presence and i’ve actually liked you for a long, long time but i didn’t wanna break my.. “No pogue on pogue macking” rule so i started avoiding you.. but right now i could care less about that stupid rule, honestly.” JJ rambled on, only stopping to catch his breath.

“But i mean it, so so much y/n. I really like you and.. i want to be with you.” He finished, his face flushing once he realized how out of character he was sounding- and how abrupt it was with a tad of dramatics.

You stared at him in shock, letting his words sink in. And once his words did finally sink in you had to bite back a grin. “Really?” You asked, hating yourself for sounding so giddy.

“Really.” He replied nodding. Now attempting to appear nonchalant. But he couldn’t help the smile that formed on his face just as a wide one spread on yours and your lips landed on his in a matter of seconds.

Your hands found way to his face. Your touch gentle as to not hurt his bad cheek. JJ leaned into the kiss as his hand found your own cheek, rubbing soft circles onto the soft skin.

Once you two finally pulled away JJ looked down on you, a cheeky grin quickly forming on his face. You quickly grew a matching grin as you pulled away. Grabbing the bandages as you attempted to appear nonchalant. “You seem happy.” You teased. Looking back up at him to place a bigger bandage on his cheek.

“I would say you look equally as happy princess.” he teased back. Noticing the way your cheeks flushed even more at the nickname that he hasn’t used on you in forever.

“Well maybee you’re right.” You replied. Placing a medium sized bandage onto the wound on his forehead, followed by the smaller one on his nose.

Once you finished bandaging his wounds he took your hand in his, leaning down to place a kiss on your hand. “Ain’t nothing to be embarrassed about princess.” He said. Attempting to fluster you even more, however you weren’t having it.

“I guess you’re right. After all i wasn’t the one who rambled on like a weirdo.” You teased back, poking him in the chest with your finger. Smirking as you saw your attempt at flustering JJ work. You got up, throwing the stuff you used onto the couch side table. You then grabbed his hands and dragged him up, making way for the bigger couch that sat a couple feet away from the tv. “Now stop talking and watch the movie with me, I’ll restart it and it can be our own lil late valentines date.”

⟡ ݁₊ . written by sarahsangelicdoll, 2025 on tumblr! © do not repost on any third party website or repost as yours. Doing so will result in me blocking you and reporting.

༉ taglist: @hvnlygrl @tashiagalinda @littlxpxtal @starsval @rafestoothbrush @subconsciouscollapse @marleymarleymarleymarley @riaras-everthroner

tagging muts: @rafesheaven @personapeters @bloodibambiidoll @cameronsprincess @moonlightrafe @winnie1emon

[wlwsoccerfics]

Birthday Girl(Alexia PutellasXPutellasReader)

AN: Happy Birthday to our star.🎉🥳🎈🩷

Warnings: Google translate used for catalan and Spanish.

You woke up in the middle of the night to start baking a Birthday cake for your older sister Alexia. She was turning 31 ,while you would turn 18 next month. You were the youngest of three. Alba was the middle child. Living with Alexia because it just made sense. Since you had the same schedule with soccer. You also played for FC Barcelona. Basically Alexia was not only your big sister but also your Hero in a way.

It was 2am and you made sure to be really quiet while making the cake. You knew this was gonna bite you in the butt because you had early practice at 9am this morning but it was still important to you that you made a cake for Alexia. And you were busy yesterday with practice, Photoshootings and interviews.

It took you two hours to Finish the entire cake, included baking and decorating it. You would have Dinner with your Mama and Alba that night as well. But you wanted to do something in the morning so Alexia knew how loved she was. So you also decorated the livingroom a bit. Everything in barca colors of course.

When you went to bed it was almost 5am so you knew you would get two hours in before you would wake up Alexia and wishing her a Happy Birthday. After that the two of you had to get ready for practice. So there wasn't alot of time to relax.

Your head hit the pillow and you were out like a light. But not for Long. At 7am you woke up again and grabbed the cake. Putting some candles in it before walking into Alexias bedroom, waking her up by singing to her.

"feliç aniversari(happy birthday)!" You tell her, sitting down on the bed next to her. She sat up and smiled.

"gràcies, petit(thank you, little one)." she replied, using the nickname she had for you.

"demanar un desig(make a wish)." You answered. Holding out the cake in front of her.

She blew out the candles.

"Se ve delicioso(it looks delicious)!" Alexia replied. You placed the cake on the nightstand. Hugging her gently.

"gracias." You smiled even more at that comment. She hugged you back. Realizing you looked a bit sleepy.

"¿Te quedaste despierto toda la noche?(did you stay up all night?)" Alexia asked, kissing the side of your head. You shrug your shoulders.

" casi(almost)." You admitted. "No te preocupes por eso(don't worry about it)" you quickly added. Alexia checked the time on her Phone.

"Nosotras tenemos que prepararnos.(we have to get ready.)" She answered.

The two of you quickly got ready and decided to bring the cake along. It was big enough so everyone on the Team could get a piece.

You really were looking forward to turning 18 cause you wanted to drive the two of you to practice. Only thing you could do was sit next to her. Music was blasting.

Everyone was wishing her a Happy Birthday once you walked into the lockerroom to see your teammates. They all said they were excited for the Party this weekend. Cause you Putellas sure knew how to throw a good Party.

Practice went by rather quickly. You went out to have a late lunch with Mapi, Ingrid, Ewa & Frido. Talking about upcoming Games, the upcoming Party and you wanting to introduce your girlfriend to them at the Party.

After lunch you went home with Alexia to watch a movie before getting ready for Dinner at Alexias favorite Restaurant were you met up with your Mama and Alba. All three of you had Gifts for Alexia. The night was filled with laughter and Love. It was perfect.

[pricegouge]

this time you can thank woolie and stelle for this one

part three of the honey series

font

gaz x f!reader

cw: f!reader. microphilia, objectification, exhibitionism. dubcon kinda but everyone is into it. MDNI

kyle had asked for dinner and a show, but it's hard to command a room at your size. harder still when you're trapped in a drink dispenser.

men stop occasionally, only usually taking notice of your presence after reading the card set beside your display, and then only usually if they were alone, no one to distract them. they'd hit the tap, sway idly, cast about for some sort of entertainment while the liquid bubbled around you, a series of temporary vacuums which made your ears thrum. eventually their eyes would land on the placard - fairy fresh honey, for your enjoyment - and they'd look to the dispenser with renewed interest, delighted even further when they caught the double meaning.

from your perch atop a raft of orange slices, you've been charged with keeping yourself entertained all night, a constant source of sweetener to make the punch more heady and saccharine by the hour. it was an easy task from the safety of your container. guests were permitted to look but not touch, and you'd be lying if you said it didn't do anything for you. you liked the attention, liked seeing the repeat customers getting more and more intoxicated as the night went on - with your taste, with the sight of you; it didn't matter much. just more kindling for the heat that burned within you. sometimes, they'd go and fetch their friends to share in their new-found treasure, a ring of guests looking on and cooing at you as you kept yourself teetering on that constant edge, teasing you to tip yourself over and give them what they wanted. their faces were refracted and distorted through your container, voices muffled, but it only added to it all, made them unreal and nonthreatening.

but kyle had said you couldn't, that you were to save yourself for his drink later, his 'nightcap', after everyone went home. he'd come by every now and again to sample the punch, make sure it wasn't overly sweet. he'd wink at you when he found you were behaving for once and reward you by being gentle when he'd have to top off the dispenser, a ladle kept down by surface level to ensure the drink mixture wouldn't splash too much as he poured it in. your little raft would float back to the top easily each time and then kyle would lean close to press a kiss against the sticky crown of your head and you'd start all over, skin abuzz with his touch.

but as the night drags on and little twinkle lights replace the sun, your bubble grows cold and your pleasure grows sparse. you tap on the glass as kyle passes with a tray of finger foods and he frowns at you for a moment before processing the ice still floating around in the punch, the warmth of the day having died off enough that they haven't melted in a timely manner. he nods and holds up his finger. wait. you're still pouting about it when he gets back and he laughs as he scoops you up in a cup, lets you hide low beneath the rim as he walks around saying good night to everyone.

outside of the protection of your container, the guests take on a bit of a beastly quality. you see more fairies, worn like lanterns on the hips of their companions, or decorated in jewels and chained to their throats like necklaces. you've always known you were lucky to have been found by kyle, but you gain a new appreciation for that when you see one poor soul clenched between the teeth of a rather grisly looking man, her face twisted in some bad mixture of pain and pleasure. some of them see you, dare to ask kyle for one last taste. you sink further into the cup each time, eyes burning as you stare up at them through the murkiness of the sugary punch. you wish kyle would put his hand over the cup like a lid but you know he likes showing you off too much and he never does, lets you flounder under each stranger's gaze as he takes too long to deny them.

but eventually everyone does leave, and kyle retreats inside where he places you on the counter in the kitchen and tells you to stay in your cup.

"don't worry, you'll be warm enough soon," he promises, then goes about getting the kettle on. he showers you in praises as he waits for it to warm because he doesn't play fair, tells you how well you did for him and how everyone talked about you. says you looked so cute on your clever little raft. he kisses your forehead again and grins when he sees how it makes your wings flutter.

he doesn't let the kettle come to a boil, stops it just before it can and pours some water on his wrist to make sure it's not too hot. his tea bag goes in before you but you're quick to follow, loosing a deep sigh as you're lowered into the welcome heat. you loosen up as the tea steeps, tacky, sugary residue left over the punch sloughing off in iridescent swirls across the surface as the water slowly darkens to his preferred level. you hadn't realized how sore you were until right then, the balance of having to keep your raft level while actively fidgeting on it all day having left your core a little overworked. kyle lets you steep just as long as the tea itself, cooing at you all the while just to watch you squirm.

but eventually it's enough and you grin when he goes to fish the bag back out, bare finger dipping into the mug alongside you. not even bothering with pretenses, it seems.

"c'mere," he mutters, but it's not the tea bag he goes searching for. you dodge him a few times, more out of playfulness than a genuine desire to deny him. kyle isn't fooled. he grins as he corrals you against the wall of the mug, the base of his forefinger pressed against your chest to keep you place as his finger tip slips lower, wedges itself between your thighs to force you straddle it. already you're leaking, muted gold ink swirling into his favorite nightcap.

"that's it, luv," he jostles his finger gently, encouraging you to ride it. he always takes good care of his fingers for you but in the heat of the tea his skin feels even softer, a pillow to rest your abused cunt on. when you rock forward, you can feel the hard ridge that makes up the inner hinge of his first knuckle. "one last show for the night, hm? just for me, so make it good."

[starconstruction]

Hyperthermia and The Voyage of Love

Yena x Male Reader (Smut)

part two to Hyperthermia and The Cosmos

Tags: fingering, squirting, blowjob, riding, throatpie

Wc: 3523

Wasn't expecting people to want a part two, considering I rushed the end. But here you go, more Yena.

Not proof read.

You and Yena set out at the cover of the darkness, a comfortable silence found as you walked through the icy wasteland with your newfound relationship with your girlfriend. Rime coated her jacket, adorning the sleeves with icy patterns. Her eyes smiling even with her face covered in a mask, the cold would tear and lash at any ounce of skin that dare revealed itself to the open air.

There was an over abundance of trees and bushes in this area, cosplaying glaciers as they were consumed by the night chill. Snow resting on the branches of the trees as ice hung vigilantly on leaves. The ground was the worst part of the planet to Yena, a mix of rock with mud that remained soft no matter the conditions, creating an unstable footing compounded by the snows invisibility.

The moon on this planet was a strange blue hue, it didn't provide as much light as the proverbs of the one of earth. It hung around uncomfortably long, no clocks were synchronised for this planet but you could swear every day felt like weeks.

Earlier scouting before you two got together found a cave that had the theoretical composition for ore, that night was special, embracing each other as you watched the night sky waiting for the results to generate from the company assisted products. Carelessly mumbling tales of the barren wastelands you two grew up on earth.

You two stood in front of the cave, a pitch black void stared at you as it beckoned you inside. A whistle could be heard as the wind filtered through the rocks inside. Yena's hand grasped your shoulder as she hugged into you, soft clothes pressing into you creating faint whispers of heat fighting against the outside cold.

Regrettably she pulled away, patting your head as her body rescinded, slinging her back to the ground as she pulled out the shared tools you two needed for the expedition. Yena always had her own style, seen from the very moment you laid your eyes on her. All her tools now kept that same black and pink that her hair was, little butterflies drawn on with the materials she snuck into her box of clothes.

Before you headed out this morning, she decorated your tools in a similar fashion citing "It's a good luck charm! I'll be right beside you even if we get lost :)", she was perfect.

Your combat knife was terrafomed from the standard sleek blue and white into a black and pink. A grey moth was scribbled onto the side of the handle, alongside a heart and Yena's name. Warmth filled your heart as you thought about her actions, filled with love despite the conditions you met on.

"Yena, this is.. nice" Your words lost all steam as the heat blossomed into your cheeks, admiring her craftsmanship, cutting the nearby air feeling it's strength.

"Told ya! I knew you would like it, now let's get in there and get out!" Yena grabbed her bag, slotting it around her back as she ran in. Giggling after you chased after her, flicking on your flashlight to pierce the dark, the cave was wide and somehow even colder than the outside, jagged rocks growing strange colourful materials on them, they all looked similar to materials you've heard about in legends for old earth. Greys, reds, blues. It was like a gold mine, just there didn't seem to be any gold.

Yena took heavy scrutiny of all the materials, pointing her flashlight as she ran her fingers over the strange rocks. Her experience far exceeded yours, so you let her be.

"Why couldn't the company make an ore identifier? Ugh. It's got to be lower down." Yena said, visibly frustrated as she swung her pickaxe into the thin rock wall that was covering the lower depths. An ominous feeling crept through your blood as you looked down the gravel slide. Yena seemed to pay no mind as she slid down, always the ambitious one.

You two landed in the lower levels, dust clouds forming as feet touched the ground, even more strange materials could be found. The darkness started to creep you out even more as more and more came into frame. You were always afraid of the dark, not that you ever saw the nightsky before a few weeks ago.

You were taken out of your fear when a loud screech filled your ears, pounding as they throbbed in agony. It was Yena.

"I think I found it! Help me mine it up." rushing to Yena's side as you lifted your pickaxe up. It was trapped in thick columns of stone, barely visible as metal ripped out the material. Landing on the ground with giant thuds as it shone bright as it got exposed to large sums of oxygen.

The ore took a lot out of you two, swings became laboured as your arms stung with lactic acid building up to assist the lack of air in your lungs. You two quickly grabbed it and threw it in Yena's bag, now you just had to get home.

You turned around your jaw dropped, those ghoulish freaks which you two aptly named "beasts" were falling down the slide, stumbling over each other as they approached.

"Shit! Yena, honey we've got to get out of here!" grabbing the two pickaxes as Yena ran ahead with the material, the way back was blocked with death. Running into the unknown as you were being chased.

The dim light from the moon came into view as you ran fast away from the horde, seemingly exponentially growing in size as the night raged on. Wind surged around you two, eyes being assaulted by the brisk cold. You had to make it home, no matter what.

A massive bridge of ice wound in front of you, visible cracks all over the surface, fear gripped you like a vice as you two stood in front of it. "Yena! Go first, I'll keep them off you. Go!"

"But-"

"Go! I swear, I'm right behind you!" She ran ahead, the bridge cracked further under her feet, it wasn't going to hold much longer. The beasts had encroached on your position, mere inches away from you. They couldn't get onto the bridge, not while she was in danger. A beast grabbed you, knocking you into the ground as it towered over your body. They couldn't get to Yena. You'd make sure of it.

Your knife jabbed into the head of the beast, a familiar splurge of green liquid fell out the wound as it went stiff, shoved onto the ground as more beasts came into frame. You swung at them, they were plentiful but not strong, more bodies hit the ground as time went out. Energy running thin as you danced with death, biding hope for your combined survival.

"Baby! I'm across, come on! Go!" she screamed frantically, turning away from the horde as you sprinted across the ice, the cracks became bigger and more severe as more and more beasts fell into ice. A harsh tug knocked you to the ground as you got jumped by one of those freaks, spitting it's rotten breath over your face as it attempted to bite you, your knife was just out of reach. Fingers squeezing desperately as you tried to claw it into your hand.

The ice bridge shattered underneath you, knocking the beast and all their friends into the glacial spikes below you. You managed to land on the corner of a thin pillar of ice. Panicking as you jammed your pickaxe, providing you enough leverage to take a breather.

"Y/N!"

"Yena! I'm, fine I promise you." the ice was cracking under you again, a familiar threat as the fall below you would certainly kill you.

"I'll come get you! Stay there Y/N!"

"No! It's not safe, I'll find a way!" Taking a deep breath, you could not let Yena down. Thinking was a luxury you were quickly running out of.

"Shit! There's more" Yena exclaimed.

"You've, got to get out of here! I'll meet up with you later, we can't lose this material! Yena! Run!" The cost of this mission was far more than you expected, you could lose everything. But her.

"Y/N-"

"Now! I love you Yena, don't ever forget that!" tears filled your eyes as you started slipping, the ice becoming too weak to support the length of your pickaxe.

"Fine. But you better not fucking die! I'll see you soon" Yena ran as the beasts covered her from your vision, you had to get back.

Wrapping your hand onto the small ledge, hoisting your legs off the crevice of ice. No time to falter, you were going to have to jump. Pulling out the pickaxe from the shattering ice, shards flying out in a every direction. The wind grew stronger, raging against your clothes as you shuddered once again.

You threw your pickaxe to the nearby ledge, you just had to make the gap. Getting as close as possible, springing your legs forward as you flew into the air. Time froze in place as your body hung in the sky. Your feet touched the ledge, cracking as it succumb to your pressure. You fell into the pit.

-

The world came back into vision as the blur dissipated, providing clarity as you adjusted to the light, the snow reflected beams of light into your eyes, you tried to move, a sharp stabbing pain made you nearly throw up, your leg landed on a spike of solid ice, colouring it sanguine as your blood soaked it. You felt lightheaded as your head throbbed. The scent of disease felt so much stronger than you could ever remember, growls came from around the pit.

Fuck! Not now!

The beasts approached your suspended body, Yena would be so disappointed in you if you didn't fight. Punching the spike that severed your leg, frantically trying to break it, crumbling under the force of your actions. You got yourself up, there were 100s of spikes in your vision. Piercing the hearts of beasts as they struggled to break free, hands moving absently as they painted them in their colour, those who were lucky were meters away. You had to go.

Taking a step forward was a futile effort, collapsing into the floor as your legs shot up in pain, creeping through your very soul, white heat throbbed in your head, legs burning up as you felt hot. So so hot.

A beast grabbed your leg, clawing it with its razor sharp nails, lacerating what flesh was not punctured earlier, blood coating it's claws as it went in again, lifting your other leg as you kicked the nasty creature into a spike, trapping it, arms and legs struggling as it begged for freedom.

You lifted yourself up, struggling to stand. The world spinning around you as the other beasts approached, limping around the spikes towards the nearby cave. You limped and limped. Sensation in your leg entirely frozen off by this unrelenting nightmare of a planet you crashed onto. A sharp object met your foot, a familiar set unfolded you. It was Yena's gift to you, you took the knife back with a feeling of pride, she really loved you.

One final battle.

I'm coming home Yena.

The cave was clearer than usual, not as many beasts to crowd the environment as you walked through, a few stragglers loomed. Every step took a monolithic amount of energy, the fuse was running low as you struggled to get through.. Collapsing onto the ground again, the leg begging for the pain to end.

Yena's gift struggled to pierce the beast that assaulted you, arms moving side to side as you fought for your life. Yours and Yena's. Together. The beasts head fell next to yours, knife piercing it's brain in a fell swoop.

The night felt soothing, the thoughts of Yena played in your head as the cave came to a close. All those laughs, all those moments of passion, all those late night conversations. Your leg fell through again, a loud buzzing filled your ears as your body started to shutdown, the world went dark as you fell into the snow.

-

"Y/N! Y/N! Wake up! Wake up!" The world came back to you slowly, glazed and blurry as all you could make out was her. Yena's body was hunched over, tears leaking incessantly and unrestrainted. Hair sticking to her swollen red cheeks.

"relax sweetie, i'm awake" you said, voice weak with exhaustion, exerting all your strength to reassure her.

Her lips met yours suddenly, eyes widening as her hands reached to your head, pressing your lips against her like this moment was ephmeral. You melted into her touch as she pulled away. A string of saliva connecting you two together, a proof of your undestroyable bond.

"I-I, thought you were dead! I saw you just lying on the ground, you nearly left me.." Yena pressed her head into your chest, wrapping her arms around you thanking the lucky stars that you were here.

"You said I couldn't die, I would never break your wishes, honey." You lifted her head up slightly, wiping her tears off her delicate face.

"God! Your such a dork. I love you Y/N" she backed up slightly as your leg spasmed in pain, reminding you of what transpired tonight.

"oh yeah, your leg! Can I please take care of it? It's the least I can do" her eyes pleaded with you, begging for more responsibility.

"Of course, let's get it stitched up"

-

You two showered together, helping you stand as she lathered you up, cleaning each other quickly as your leg ran out of tolerance to keep up. Getting out and changed into pajamas.

You and Yena were hugging each other, basking in the glory of a successful expedition. Rubbing her back gently as she squeezed closer, tracing circles on your chest gently. "Y/N~ this is the last time in awhile before we could, have some fun.." she said.

"What are you implying darling?" You teased, as she sighed.

"you are always so mean! Fine, I want the love of my life to let me ride their dick. Are you happy now?" She huffed in your face. Smiling as you celebrated your humble victory.

"I would do anything for your honey." Locking lips again, sucking on her tongue as she moaned gently at your actions, regrettably you pulled away and she pulled you down.

Yena was a natural tease, slowly lifting her shirt up with a sway of her movement, revealing her black bra. She was stunning, you didn't get to revel in her appearance last time. Rushing out of frustration, you mentally took a picture of her body. Taking focus on her toned midriff, she was aphrodite reborn. Her hands reached behind, clicking her bra as it fell to the wayside. Her breasts were the perfect size, everything about Yena was perfect. Her fingers reaching out to squeeze her nipples, light moans strung out from her mouth as you felt your dick harden under her noises, your mouth salivated as you looked at Yena's tight body. It's like you two were linked as her body lowered. Giving you the luxury of putting her heavenly nipple into your mouth.

You licked aggressively as your lips created a suction, her nipple was salty with her sweat, generated from your earlier hugs. Your hands found the waistline of her jeans, pulling them off alongside the leggings she wore for thermal resistance earlier. Revealing her underwear, damp with her arousal as you rubbed her clothed cunt, your fingers wet with Yena. She gasped as you sucked harder, you pulled her panties to her side, giving you direct access to her pussy. Stroking her clit frantically as Yena pulled her nipple from your mouth. Turning around to sit comfortably in your embrace, giving you full access to her cunt.

Your fingers trailed up Yena's picturesque body, leaving a trail of slick as you probed at her mouth, greedily accepting your fingers as she lathered them in her saliva, "Thats my good girl, always so accommodating" beaming with your praise she licked faster.

You pulled out and gently pressed into her cunt, swallowing you up as she squeezed on your digits, suffocating them as you inserted in and out rapidly. Her moans were a steady stream of breathy affirmations, your other hand got bored. Squeezing her tits as your fingers kept shoving into her. You felt a spongy part inside Yena, immediately invoking screams of pleasure as she tightened around you. Making it hard to pull out as you kissed her exposed neck, leaving small nips as you kept your motions going.

"Ah fuck! Y/N! I'm gonna cum for you! please please please please" you kept your pace steady as she came undone under your grasp. Liquid shooting out violently from her cunt, pushing your fingers out of her as she painted the bed with her essence.

"My good girl, that's it" you kissed her as her chest, heaved up and down trying to recover. You took your slick ridden fingers into your mouth, tasting your girlfriends perfect juices.

Yena suddenly moved, getting off the bed in order to remove your tight jeans, made tighter by your aching shaft, pressing for freedom as it's granted by your good girl. Your shaft flew out as her rigid hands let it free from the constraints of your clothes. She spat out a thick glob of spit onto your shaft as she stroked you frantically, using her other hand in order to stroke your balls softly. Every action of hers felt perfect, peppering small kisses all over your shaft, she came a long way from the first time she tried this. Licking the sides of your cock as she slobbered all over you. Her eyes locked in as you unconsciously thrusted due to her tongue.

As soon as her head started, it ended. Stroking you as she lifted herself above you, bumping your tip against her clit. She begun to lower herself on you, the tightness you felt earlier now strangling your cock. She felt so good as she took you to the hilt, her eyes closed due to the intense pleasure as you two shared moans.

You couldn't thrust upwards due to the intense pain in your leg, keeping you constrained to the bed as you have to take whatever she gives you. Thankfully, she shows mercy as she bounces up and down, skin slapping as the sweaty skin of Yena and yours bodies connected. Her glistening pussy was spreading itself to accommodate your dick. Her rhythm was completely lost as you laid there, feeling the sensations of her grip tightening suddenly. She was getting more frantic and you could tell she was getting close.

"Y/N! Fuckkkk I'm cumming!" She tightened around you painfully, losing herself to the pleasure of your cock.

She stopped moving as she sat to recover, she gingerly got off you as her eyes looked at you seductively "Don't worry baby, you'll get to cum soon. I'll show you how much of a good girl I am" she dropped down. Her warm breath ticking your balls as she got ready. Wrapping her lips around your awaiting cock, grabbing your ass cheeks as she went lower.

Sinful gags came out from her mouth as she pushed your cock into her throat, going up and down as she licked the underside of your shaft, you moaned violently as she kept going up and down. You knew you weren't going to last, very long.

"Fuck Yena! I'm gonna cum!" She pressed her nose into your body as she took every inch into your mouth, pressing against her throat as you released shot after shot of semen into her awaiting throat. Taking her rightful award.

You took her off your cock as she gagged semen all over your dick, struggling to take all of her deserved load. Being the good girl she is, her tongue lapped up all of your spent load. Moaning as she swallowed it for the second time.

"Was I a good girl Y/N~" Her voice dripping with a sense of pride about her effect on you.

" The best, now let's get cleaned up darling. Long day tomorrow."

-

You two spent the entirety of the next 3 days figuring out how to fix the engines, the material unstable as you turned it into power sources that could handle long expeditions. It was long, stressful, and led to a lot of arguments between you and Yena about how to handle the situation, but you two always made up with a kiss and kept moving.

You two finally repaired the engine and got ready to take to the sky.

"Y/N? Do you think we'll ever find a planet worth living on? She exclaimed.

" Of course, we deserve something other than this wasteland."

" Yeah your right! Let's go."

"Lead the way, my mysterious pilot."

She sighed as the engine came to life.

[artficlly]

smog & spirits: eye for an eye (series)

Marvel 1920s Gangster/Peaky Blinders Inspired Fantasy AU

gangsterboss!bucky x witch!reader

Bucky Barnes, the leader of Sootstone's Smog Boys, needs a favour. A nasty curse has been cast on him, and he needs a witch to help him break it.

Warnings: 18+ content minors dni, fem reader, smut, p n v, unprotected sex, table sex, light fingering, hair pulling, begging, past wounds, physical violence, angst, wound description, threats, some fluff, protective bucky, bucky barnes had issues, criminals & crime, 1920s street gangs, witchcraft, vaguely british setting??, no use of y/n, lmk if i've missed anything

Word Count: 5.8k

A/N: hi!! i spent all of jan doing my 50k word challenge on the daughter of rotsál first draft, but i thought i'd take these first few days of feb to update this fic! i also released a smutty/fluffy oneshot called sweatpea you should check out! my birthday and uni is coming up soon so i'm gonna try squeeze in some more work on the daughter of rotsál draft before that and maybe one more update / another one-shot but i'll see how i go! anyway, enjoy this is a spicy one! sorry for any typos - not proof read.

taglist: @nash-dara @sebastians-love permanent taglist: @globetrotter28

main masterlist | series masterlist

The shipment warehouse was a vast, hollowed-out space. Shadows stretched long beneath the dim, hanging bulbs. The scent of aged wood, alcohol, and rust lingered in the air, the faint remnants of the whiskey that passed through here on its way to buyers. Though mostly empty, clusters of wooden crates were stacked against the far walls, some sealed, others pried open to reveal their glass cargo, bottles of dark amber liquid reflecting the weak light. Scattered metal production tables dotted the floor, their surfaces scratched and stained from years of work. These were the stations where workers packed the shipments, but now, the tables sat abandoned, save for one.

At the centre of the warehouse, in front of one of the tables, three men sat bound to chairs. Rope bit into their flesh, tight enough that their fingers were already turning an ugly shade of blue. The table before them had been repurposed for something far crueller than packaging liquor. A collection of weapons lay across its surface—blades, hammers, pliers, each one arranged with careful deliberation. 

By the main entrance, Steve and Sam stood guard, their figures solid and unmoving, you eyed them cautiously as you passed through the threshold. They didn’t quite meet your eye, and you wondered if they could hear the deafening pulse that roared in your ears. The cold night air filtered in through the open doors behind them, a scattering of ash decorating the stone floor.

Bucky entered beside you, his steps slow and deliberate. But you could feel the unspoken tension rolling off him in waves. His fists clenched and unclenched at his sides, his shoulders squared rigidly, his jaw tight. The walk over from the Sootline had been silent, even if you could practically feel the heat of rage radiating off him. He didn’t seem eager to talk to you, even if his gaze would occasionally flicker to you to make sure you still followed along behind him. Maybe he feared he would find judgment in your eyes because he never held them for long.

“Bucky—” You called out softly, but the gangster shied away from your touch, the fabric of his sleeve slipping through your fingers. 

He strode forward, each step heavy, his boots striking against the stone with a slow, deliberate rhythm that sent a shiver down your spine. The sound echoed through the warehouse, filling it like a countdown ticking. You knew him. You had to remind yourself of that. You knew this man—the sharp edges of his cruelty, the weight of his fury, the way violence coiled beneath his skin like a second nature. You knew him intimately; you had felt the warmth of his breath, the roughness of his hands, and the steel of his will.

And yet, in this moment, he felt distant. Unreachable.

Even if he was angry, even if he had been cold and dismissive, his rage was not aimed at you. This was because of you. Because of what happened. The thought should have been comforting, a reassurance that you were not in his path and that his wrath had a different target. And yet, the knowledge did little to ease the weight pressing against your bruised ribs; it didn’t stop the breath from hitching in your throat as you took in the scene before you.

You were safe. You knew that.

But safety did nothing to silence the unease creeping through your veins.

The Iron Rats reacted the moment Bucky neared them. Two of them shrank back, their chairs creaking as they futilely tried to recoil from him. Their eyes darted between Bucky and the weapons on the table, their breath coming in quick, ragged gasps. One of them had already begun to tremble, his lips forming silent prayers, his body betraying him as he shook against the restraints.

But the third man—the one at the end—was different. He didn’t cower, didn’t flinch. He simply stared ahead, eyes hollow, his expression unreadable. It was as if he had already accepted whatever was coming and made peace with the inevitable. 

“Barnes.” You snapped louder this time, voice clipped. The gangster paused his movements, not even turning to look back as he raised his hand, silencing you with a raise of his index finger.

“I was considerin’ if the bird needed to see this.” He finally broke his silence, voice low with a dangerous edge. “But I think she needs’a understand, don’t ya think?” 

His hand struck forward, grasping one of the cowering men’s chins, forcing his head to look in your direction. You could tell his grip was bruising, even from a distance, the skin around his thumb growing white at the pressure. “She needs’a understand what happens to dirty fuckin’ rats that come crawling into my territory.”

Bucky released the man with a sharp shove, and the Iron Rat nearly sobbed in relief, his chair rocking back violently from the force. His breath hitched, his chest rising and falling in shallow gasps. Bucky barely spared him a glance. Instead, he dragged his fingers down the front of his suit jacket in one broad stroke as if ridding himself of the filth he had just touched. 

Then, without looking, he reached for the table, his fingers curling around the worn handle of a butcher’s knife. The blade was thick and heavy, meant to cleave through bone as quickly as meat. As he lifted it, it scraped against the metal tabletop, the sound sharp and grating—final.

Bucky turned to you, his fingers curling around the handle, weighing it in his grip like an executioner deliberating his next stroke. His gaze pinned you in place.

“Left or right, doll?”

The question landed like a punch to the gut.

“What?” You stammered back in response.

“Left or right?” His voice was eerily steady, too casual for the brutality hanging in the air. It was as if he were asking you to pick a wine for dinner, not deciding which limb would be lost. Your throat tightened. The Iron Rats were barely breathing, one whimpering, his chair creaking under his tremors.

You forced your voice to work. “Barnes, don’t you think we’ve caused enough damage?”

You knew you'd made a mistake the second the words left your lips.

Bucky’s head snapped towards you, his jaw ticking, something dark and dangerous flickering behind his eyes. The shift in him was immediate, electric. He abandoned the bound man without hesitation, closing the space between you in a few sharp strides. Your pulse stuttered.

He was on you in seconds, looming, his presence suffocating. You turned your head instinctively as his breath fanned hot across your cheek, but there was no escaping him.

“No.”

The single word was like a hammer shattering stone.

“We ‘aven’t caused nearly enough damage after what they did.” His voice, low and venomous, left no room for argument. His free hand clenched at his side, fingers twitching with barely contained rage. “You think I’m gonna let these filthy fuckin’ rats walk away after puttin’ their hands on you? Huh? After hurtin’ you right under my fuckin’ nose?”

Your breath caught, your ribs tightening under the weight of his fury. He leant in, close enough that his lips nearly brushed your ear. His words were a vow, a sentence carved in stone when he spoke next. “You’re under my protection. Mine. You’re mine. So fuckin’ choose, doll. Left or right?”

Your stomach twisted. The Iron Rats were silent, frozen, waiting for your answer as if it were their final prayer. You swallowed.

“…Right.”

The corner of Bucky’s mouth curled, but there was no warmth in it. It was a razor-sharp thing, all teeth and no kindness. His eyes gleamed with something feverish, something manic.

“Good girl,” he purred. The praise was smooth, almost sweet, but his grip on the knife tightened, knuckles whitening around the handle. And then he turned. The Iron Rat barely had time to process what was happening before Bucky moved.

The butcher’s knife came down in a single, brutal arc.

A sickening crack filled the warehouse as steel met flesh and bone, followed by a scream so raw, so agonised, it turned your stomach. The man convulsed against his restraints, his bound arms jerking wildly, but there was nowhere to go.

Blood splattered across the metal tabletop, dark and glistening. It pooled. Dripped and painted the concrete floor beneath him. His severed hand tumbled to the ground with a dull thud, fingers twitching uselessly in the growing puddle of red.

Bucky barely spared the carnage a glance. “You touched her,” he said coldly, voice devoid of sympathy. 

“So I took your fuckin’ hand.” He tilted his head, considering the sobbing, writhing man before him. “Consider it generous that I ain’t takin’ both.”

The Iron Rat howled, his body convulsing. Tears streamed down his face, his cries dissolving into choked, incoherent pleas for mercy. Bucky wasn’t listening. He wiped the blade clean against his sleeve, smearing crimson across the dark fabric like a war trophy. Then, slowly, he turned to the second man, pointing the stained blade at him.

“Your turn.”

The second Iron Rat thrashed in his chair, his breath coming in short, panicked gasps. His eyes, wild with terror, darted between Bucky and the ruined stump of the first man. Blood still poured from the wound, pooling beneath the chair, seeping into the cracks of the warehouse floor. The stench of it—sharp, metallic, raw—hung thick in the air.

“Please,” he sobbed. “Please, I—I didn’t even—”

Bucky slammed a heavy hand down on his shoulder, silencing him with a violent jolt. The Iron Rat flinched, chest heaving, tears streaming down his dirt-streaked face. Bucky turned to you again, the knife glinting under the dim warehouse lights.

“Left or right?”

Your fingers curled into your palms, nails digging deep enough to leave crescent moons in your skin, but the sting barely registered. Your mind screamed at you, an urgent, panicked voice clawing at the edges of your thoughts. Stop this. Say something. Tell him it’s enough.

But you didn’t.

Because you knew the truth now, Bucky wouldn’t listen. Any sense of cold calculation had snapped within him, as if his father himself had possessed his body. His blood was up, his fury ran red-hot and unchecked. Reason was a foreign concept to him in this moments, swallowed whole by vengeance and violence.

Your breath felt thin as you watched him, as you remembered what was left of Varlan Crey. The Rat King, so smug, so untouchable, had been brought to his knees. Felled not by magic or blades, but by the sheer, unrelenting wrath of Bucky Barnes. He had survived, maybe by the hand of a small mercy. Or maybe just dumb luck. Because you had seen it—the flicker of real, unguarded fear in Crey’s eyes. The raw understanding that, for the first time, he had stood at the very edge of death and only barely stepped back in time.

You swallowed, throat dry as dust. “Left.”

A shuddering breath left the Iron Rat, some final, pitiful sound before—

Bucky moved.

The blade came down hard.

The crack of severed bone and the wet, visceral tear of flesh split through the warehouse. The man’s scream ripped through the air, raw and broken, his body jerking violently against the chair. Blood sprayed across the table, warm and thick, dripping onto the floor. His severed hand landed with a sickening slap, fingers twitching before they went still.

Bucky tightened his grip on the man’s shoulders, keeping him from toppling the chair over as he convulsed in agony. He wiped the blade again, slow and deliberate, his gaze flicking to the last Iron Rat—the one who hadn’t made a sound.

The man met Bucky’s eyes with an eerie, empty calm.

No trembling. No pleading. Just quiet resignation.

A slight, bitter smile played at the edges of his lips as he tilted his head, gesturing to his left hand, which was secured against the arm of the chair. A soldier offering himself to the executioner.

Bucky exhaled sharply, amused. “Good choice.”

And then he brought the knife down.

The man grunted as the blade severed flesh and bone in one clean stroke, but he didn’t scream. His body twitched, stiffening against the pain, but he bit it down. His severed hand dropped onto the table this time, fingers curling inward, as if gripping something unseen. Blood seeped from the wound, a slow, steady stream.

Bucky studied him for a moment, almost impressed.

Then, satisfied, he tossed the knife onto the table with a dull clang. The first two Iron Rats were still crying, writhing, staring at their stumps like they could somehow undo what had been done. The third just slumped in his chair, pale and shaking, but silent.

“I think I should take an eye next, for even lookin’ at you. What’d you think, doll?” Exhaustion lay heavy in your bones as your eyes fluttered shut briefly. Bucky was upon you again, his gaze softer now, the fury still burning beneath the surface but tempered. He reached for you, his bloodied fingers grazing your arm in a touch that was meant to be comforting. “Eye for an eye, after all.”

“I don’t…” You stammered but leant into his touch by default. Steve and Sam had adverted their eyes, their expressions unreadable as they pressed their lips into a line. 

“I’ll choose for ya, how’s that sound, doll?” He rubbed a bloodied thumb across your cheek. You looked up at him through your lashes, hoping something in your eyes could pull him away. But his eyes settled on the faded split in your lip, and his gaze hardened. “They have to pay.”

Bucky stalked off towards the array of weapons displayed along the table once more. The knife he chose gleamed under the dim light, and Bucky tested the edge against his thumb. A single bead of red welled up but he paid it no mind. His attention was elsewhere—on the trembling man before him, the one still staring at his bleeding stump, breath hitching in raw, animalistic terror.

“Please,” the Iron Rat sobbed, voice wet, desperate. “Please, Barnes, I can’t—I—”

Bucky exhaled through his nose, rolling his shoulders like the weight of their begging was nothing more than an inconvenience. His hand was steady, practiced, as he tapped the knife tip against the man’s chin, tilting his face up.

“Didn’t fuckin’ ask for pleas,” he murmured, voice eerily even. “Left or right?”

The man shuddered violently. He turned slightly, eyes flicking to you as though you could save him as if you had any say. You swallowed, your tongue thick and useless, pinned in place by the weight of Bucky’s presence and the inevitability of what came next.

When no answer came, Bucky clicked his tongue, shaking his head.

“Left it is.” The knife sank into the man’s left eye in a swift, brutal motion. A high and raw shriek tore through the room, sending a shudder through your bones.

You flinched, but only slightly. The movement barely registered.

You had seen Bucky covered in blood before, had seen him like this before—violent, efficient, merciless. Yet you had also seen him in moments far removed from this carnage.

You had watched him bleed and had pressed your hands to his wounds to keep him from slipping away. You had felt his warmth seeping between your fingers, his breath shallow but steady as he let you take care of him. He had trusted you then, let you see him vulnerable when he could have just as easily pushed you away.

He had defended you against the Rat King, standing between you and the man who had wanted to carve you apart. If it hadn’t been for him, would you have been at the mercy of the Iron Rats? Tied to a chair like the three men before you? There had been no hesitation in him then, just like there was none now. And it was all for you.

The thought made your stomach tighten, but not in fear. Not entirely.

Bucky wiped the knife clean on the Iron Rat’s pant leg, a simple, thoughtless movement, and turned to the last man. The final Iron Rat had been silent the entire time, watching the carnage with eerie detachment. Even now, as the scent of blood thickened the air and his fallen comrades moaned and sobbed, his expression barely shifted. He only blinked, slow and deliberate, as Bucky approached.

“Ya know what I’m gonna ask,” Bucky said, voice quieter this time.

A pause.

Then, a small sigh.

“Right,” the man murmured, resigned.

Something flickered in Bucky’s expression—curiosity, maybe. Approval. He didn’t make him wait. The blade sank deep, and though the Iron Rat tensed, his breath hitching sharply, he made no sound. Blood welled, thick and dark, spilling down his cheek, but he simply slumped against the restraints, his ruined eye weeping crimson.

Bucky lingered, staring at him, head tilted slightly. Considering. Perhaps even disappointed.

Bucky only clicked his tongue before turning back to you. The shift was subtle but immediate. The hardness in his expression softened, his eyes no longer carrying the cold fury he had wielded so effortlessly moments before. His hand, still warm despite the blood smeared across his fingers, reached for you, grazing your waist.

“See, doll?” he murmured. “Now they know.”

Your breath caught.

You should have felt horror. Revulsion. But instead, as you looked at him—his jaw speckled with blood, his chest rising and falling evenly, the fire still smouldering behind his eyes—you felt something else entirely. Something that made your fingers twitch, something that made your chest tighten.

Maybe, just maybe, this was more than just lust.

You weren’t sure whether that should’ve terrified you.

But at that moment, staring up at him, your heart still pounding, you weren’t sure you cared.

—

Bucky quickly issued his orders: everyone was to leave but you. Sam and Steve moved without hesitation, grabbing a bloodied, barely conscious Iron Rat by the scruff of their necks and dragging them towards the exit. The metallic scent of blood lingered in the cold warehouse air, thick and rich, settling into your lungs with each breath.

Bucky didn’t watch them leave.

He stood with his back turned, broad shoulders taut, tension coiling through his body like a predator still primed for the kill. His suit jacket lay discarded on the blood-splattered table. The sleeves of his crisp white shirt were rolled to his elbows, the fabric marred with streaks of red. His hands—still wet with it—hung at his sides, fingers twitching slightly as if the violence hadn’t yet left his system.

You hesitated before moving, carefully stepping past the grotesque remnants of severed hands littering the floor. You focused on him instead, on the way his body seemed stretched too tight like he was waiting for another enemy to appear from the shadows.

Slowly, cautiously, you reached out, smoothing a hand over his forearm. The muscles beneath your fingers were rigid but warm, his pulse steady despite the chaos he’d unleashed.

“You showed them your hand,” you murmured, your voice soft and testing. “What will you do now?”

Your fingers traced a slow path up his arm, featherlight over the muscle, following the curve of his shoulder. When he didn’t pull away, you grew bolder, stepping around him until you stood before him. His face was speckled with blood; the scarlet splattered across his jaw and streaked along the bridge of his nose. His blue eyes, cold and unreadable just moments ago, stirred—just barely—as they settled on you.

“They needed to be taught a lesson,” he said simply, his voice still edged with the lingering embers of rage. A repetition of the words he’d spoken before.

You sighed through your nose, your hands splaying across his chest. His shirt was warm beneath your touch, the steady rise and fall of his breath grounding you. You pressed yourself flush against him, seeking—what? Comfort? Reassurance? An answer you weren’t sure you wanted?

“Yes,” you conceded, your voice quieter now, steadier. “But you’ve shown ‘em your hand.” 

Your fingers curled slightly into the fabric, gripping him, holding him there with you. “You’ve told ‘em another woman is close to you—other than your sister. One that commands enough of your attention for you to do this.”

His eyes flickered with amusement. “Ya scared, doll?”

“No.” The answer was immediate, instinctive—but the certainty of it wavered, even in your own mind. Was that really the truth? “I just want to understand why you’d expose a weakness like that.”

He snorted softly, his bloodstained hands coiling around your waist, holding you there. His grip was firm and possessive but not forceful. There was no threat in his touch, only something else, something deeper, something that made your stomach twist.

For a brief moment, you allowed yourself to hope. Maybe he would finally say something��something real. Something sweet. He always left you with vague declarations of ownership and lust.

Because he cared, he had to—right? No man would do what he had done tonight if he didn’t care. No man would make a spectacle of his violence, an open display of his wrath for the sake of a woman if she meant nothing? He had carved his rage into flesh and blood for you and left a message in the ruined bodies of those men. You mattered to him.

Didn’t you?

But when he finally spoke, his words weren’t what you wanted.

“You have your worth, spirit-raiser.”

A flicker of disappointment bloomed in your gut. You could have pulled away. Should have, maybe. But you didn’t because you needed something from him: reassurance, protection. Proof that he would stand between you and whatever enemies would inevitably come for you now that he had placed you in the centre of this war.

Perhaps tonight had been proof enough.

Conflict and confusion pressed heavily in your chest, warring with the heat between you.

Fuck Becca’s warnings.

There was something here, wasn’t there?

Your hand slid up, fingers ghosting over the rough stubble of his jaw. You cradled his face, pulling him closer. His breath was warm, tinged with the faint scent of whiskey and blood, and for a moment, you hesitated—just a moment—before pressing your lips to his.

Bucky responded instantly, like a man starved, his eager hands gripping your waist with a bruising intensity as if grounding himself in your presence. A sharp wince pricked at your ribs, but the hunger in his kiss quickly drowned it out. His lips moved against yours with fervour, rough and consuming, parting only to let his tongue sweep into your mouth, claiming and demanding. You melted into him, your body yielding beneath his, heat pooling low in your stomach as his touch ignited something primal in you.

He moved with purpose, guiding you backwards. His hands were restless, roaming up your spine, fingers slipping beneath the fabric of your blouse, searching, craving skin. The cool air kissed your exposed flesh as he fumbled with your buttons, the urgency in his touch making his movements clumsy. You gasped into his mouth, the sound swallowed by his kiss as your own hands wandered lower, gliding down the firm planes of his chest. The taut muscle beneath his white collared shirt flexed beneath your palms, solid and unyielding.

His breath hitched slightly as you dragged your nails over the crisp fabric, feeling the faint thrum of his heartbeat beneath. You felt the shudder in his body as your fingers found the buttons of his vest, slipping them free with deliberate ease. Bucky’s hands found your breasts, moulding the soft flesh through your brassiere with a rough, needy grip, his thumbs sweeping over the peaks in slow, teasing circles. Your head tipped back, a breathy sigh escaping your lips as heat coursed through you.

The vest was discarded in a swift motion, tossed aside without care, and before you could fully react, Bucky’s strong hands lifted you effortlessly, hoisting you onto the cold metal of the production table. The chill of it sent a shiver through your body. Still, the heat between you and him was overwhelming, obliterating any thought. His body pressed between your legs, the hard line of him nestling against you through the fabric of your skirts.

His mouth devoured yours again, possessive and unrelenting, his teeth catching your bottom lip in a sharp, fleeting bite before his tongue soothed the sting. You whimpered quietly into his mouth. Clinging to him, fingers tangling in his hair, tugging just enough to earn a low groan from deep within his chest. His thumb grazed over your nipple, teasing through the lace, and your breath hitched.

The world beyond this moment ceased to exist. There was only Bucky—his touch, his breath, his desire pressed into your skin like a brand. And you welcomed it. Welcomed him.

You could already feel the hard length of him, pressing insistently against your inner thigh through the layers of fabric. His heat was unmistakable, searing even through the barrier of clothing, and a shiver rolled through you. The anticipation was unbearable. You reached for his belt, fingers nimble and eager—

But Bucky chuckled, low and deep, knocking your hands away with an easy flick of his wrist. His pupils were blown wide, dark pools of hunger that drank you in as you leant back on your elbows, your body sprawled out before him. His lips were swollen, slick with the mingled taste of you both, his breath warm against your skin. Your chest heaved, one breast exposed where he had tugged it free from your brassiere, the cool air sending a shiver through you.

“Greedy, ain’t ya?” he murmured, voice thick with amusement, but his touch was anything but teasing. His hand slid beneath the heavy fabric of your skirt, fingers dragging up the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. You barely had time to process the sensation before he grabbed the delicate waistband of your tap pants and tore them down your legs, the lace rasping against your skin as he wrenched them past your ankles and boots.

The discarded scrap of fabric landed somewhere on the warehouse floor, forgotten. His hands were already on you again, possessive, insatiable. You let out a low groan, head falling back as he trailed a digit through your wet slit, humming in delight as he found you already dripping with desire. “Don’t need an arousal potion for this, do we?”

You ignored his quip, instead wrapping your legs around his waist. He chuckled at you, rewarding your eagerness by pressing one of his digits into your cunt. You clenched around him with a whimper, hips rocking as you internally begged for more friction. 

“Let me hear your noises, doll.” Bucky commanded, his spare hand trailing up your thigh. You whined softly, bucking your hips once more in a silent plea. The gangster smirked down at you, pressing a second digit into you as you squirmed beneath him. 

“Please, Bucky.” You mewled, pulling him closer with the legs hooked around his back. He obliged, slowly pumping his fingers in and out. You could hear the squelching of your wetness, your body shuddering with impatience at the leisurely pace. 

“You want more?” He purred, teasing you with a quick flick of your clit with his thumb. You clenched around him involuntarily, a breathy gasp leaving your mouth as pleasure rocked up your spine, a new wave of electricity flooding your gut. 

You pushed yourself up, hands grasping his broad shoulders, fingers digging into the firm muscle beneath his shirt as you pulled your bodies flush. The heat of him seeped into you, intoxicating, overwhelming. Your mouth found the column of his throat, breath hitching as you pressed open-mouthed kisses to his exposed skin. His pulse thrummed beneath your lips, quick and heavy, and you traced it with your tongue, savouring the salt of his skin.

Bucky let out a sharp exhale as you dragged your mouth along his adam’s apple, teeth grazing over the sensitive flesh before sucking a bruise into his neck. His grip on your thigh tightened, fingers digging in hard enough to leave marks, but you didn’t care. You wanted them. You wanted him to brand himself into your skin the way he had branded himself into your mind.

“Please,” you breathed against his ear, voice hushed, desperate. Your tongue flicked along the shell, teasing, before you nipped at his earlobe, letting your teeth catch just enough to make him groan. “I need you inside me.”

The words sent a shudder through him, a growl vibrating deep in his chest. “Turn around, bend over the table. Now.”

Your head tilted, temple resting against the firm plane of his shoulder as you gazed up at him, your breath uneven. His fingers twitched inside you, a steady rhythm still building, each pump igniting a slow, unbearable heat in your core. A sharp gasp left your lips as pleasure twisted through you, your body tensing in response.

“My ribs—” you managed to gasp, wincing as the dull ache reminded you of your bruises.

Bucky stilled for a moment, a flicker of something soft crossing his face, a rare moment of tenderness blooming between the two of you. His breath was warm against your cheek as he considered your words, his free hand smoothing over your hip as though grounding you.

“You’ll be fine,” he murmured, low and reassuring, though the husk of his voice betrayed his restraint. “I’ll try to be gentle.”

Gentle. A rare promise from a man like him.

Then, just as quickly as he had stilled, he withdrew. A wet heat lingered in the absence of his fingers, and you shuddered, your walls clenching around nothing. A soft whimper escaped before you could stop it, your body betraying the ache of emptiness. You unhooked your legs from around his waist, knees wobbling as you moved, turning yourself around atop the table.

The cold metal kissed your stomach as you laid your front flat against it, one breast still bare from where he had pulled the fabric away. A shuddering breath left you, anticipation thick in your veins as you braced yourself against the surface, your hips lining up with the edge.

Behind you, you heard the sharp metallic clink of his belt buckle, followed by the slow rasp of leather sliding free. The head of his cock pressed against your slick opening, teasing but not quite entering. You whined into the table as his large hands stroked up the back of your thighs, gripping the flesh. 

“So wet,” he muttered. His voice was thick with hunger as he pushed your skirts up, bunching the fabric around your waist, leaving you utterly exposed to him. His hands trailed down, calloused palms smoothing over the curve of your ass before he spread you open, admiring the slick evidence of your need. “So good for me, huh, doll?”

A desperate whimper left you, your body shivering under his touch. You pressed your folded forearms beneath your chest, arching your back in an attempt to save your bruised ribs from the unforgiving metal table.

Then, at last, he pressed into you.

A gasp tore from your throat, your body instinctively tensing as he stretched you open. The intrusion was thick and slow, overwhelming at first, your cunt clenching down against the pressure of him. Your teeth sank into the flesh of your thumb, muffling the choked moan that threatened to spill free. Bucky cursed under his breath, withdrawing just enough before easing back in, working you open with slow, deliberate strokes.

“Ya like this, don’t ya?” His voice was low and strained, his grip tightening on your hips as he pinned you in place. The firm drag of him inside you sent sparks of heat flooding through your veins. “Like me claimin’ you? Like knowin’ I’d fuckin’ tear through them bastards just to keep ya safe?”

A broken moan left you, your body trembling against the metal. Your fingers curled into fists, nails biting into your palms as he set a steady rhythm, each thrust pressing you further against the table. The slick, filthy sounds of your bodies moving together filled the empty warehouse, the echo of skin meeting skin mixing with your ragged breaths.

Bucky groaned, his hands wrapping around your hips as he rocked into you harder, deeper, pulling you back onto him with every thrust. Your mind swam, the bruising grip of his fingers the only thing tethering you to reality.

“Tell me, doll.” His voice was rough, a demand wrapped in silk and sin. His hips snapped forward, driving into you so deep it left you gasping. “Tell me how much you want this.”

“Please—” The word came out in a small, needy sob, your voice trembling as pleasure coiled tight in your belly.

Bucky growled, a deep, guttural sound. One of his hands abandoned your waist, sliding up the length of your back before tangling in your hair. His fingers twisted into the strands, yanking your head back with a sharp tug. A strangled moan burst from your lips, your back arching instinctively. Your nails scraped against the metal table, searching for purchase as he fucked into you harder, faster.

The steady, brutal rhythm of his hips grew relentless. Each thrust sent shockwaves of pleasure up your spine. A filthy symphony of desperate moans, ragged breathing, and the wet, obscene sounds of him driving into you echoed. Bucky groaned, the sound low and primal as he chased his release. His grip on your hip was vice-like, anchoring you in place as he pounded into you without mercy. You could only hope Sam and Steve weren’t lingering nearby to hear the sinful chorus of your pleasure.

A sharp cry tore from your throat as your body tensed, pleasure spiking hot and fast through your veins. Your legs trembled beneath you, knees nearly buckling as your orgasm coiled, threatening to snap.

Then he tugged your hair again, the sting mingling with the pleasure in a dizzying rush, and you came undone.

Your cunt clenched around his cock, a strangled moan ripping from your lips as your body spasmed beneath him. Stars burst behind your eyelids, pleasure flooding through you in rolling waves. Wetness dripped down your inner thighs, evidence of your release slicking his length as he fucked you through the aftershocks.

Bucky let out a deep, shuddering moan, his hips stuttering as he followed you into bliss. His grip on you tightened, his cock pulsing as he spilt inside you, filling you with hot, thick ropes of cum. He kept thrusting, his movements growing erratic, chasing the last remnants of pleasure as he wrung out every drop of ecstasy.

His fingers slowly uncurled from your hair, his grip loosening as the tension drained from his body. You collapsed against the table, breathless and spent. You lay motionless beneath him, allowing him to use you as he rode out the final waves of his release, his heavy breaths mingling with yours.

Gods, you were going to need to take an anti-pregnancy potion after this.

[whenhypen]

falling for you, this is for you

jake x gn!reader, 1087 words playlist - blossom by enhypen, fallin’ by dawn content warnings: established relationship, fluff, small amounts of skinship, one mention of reader being compared to a “disney princess” but it’s not really gendering the reader and is more for comedy.

(masterlist)

author’s note: this is the first fanfic I’ve ever written! please give feedback and suggestions (positive or negative), so I can improve. I tried my best to not include the reader having a specific gender or race to keep it inclusive, but please let me know if there are gendered terms or things that could elude to race!

The sun hung high in the sky, casting a warm glow over the park as cherry blossoms fell in the gentle breeze. It was Valentine’s Day, and Jake had been looking forward to this moment all week. He had meticulously planned every detail, wanting to make it special for you. As he reached the park, he took a deep breath, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness.

You were already there, sitting on a bench under a flowering cherry blossom tree, petals fluttering around you like delicate pink snowflakes. Jake’s heart raced at the sight of you. You looked so perfect, focused on a book. He approached you quietly, not wanting to interrupt.

“Hey there, Valentine!” he said, a playful smile spreading across his face.

You looked up, your eyes lighting up. “Jake! You made it!” You closed your book and stood up, giving him a warm hug. He wrapped his arms around you, feeling the comfort of your presence.

“Of course! I wouldn’t miss this for the world,” he replied, pulling back to look at you. “Ready for a fun day?”

“Absolutely! What’s the plan?” you asked, curiosity sparkling in your eyes.

Jake grinned, his excitement bubbling over. “First, picnic time! I packed some of your favorite snacks and a few Valentine’s Day goodies!”

Your eyes sparkled with joy. “You really thought of everything, didn’t you?”

“Only the best for you,” he said, winking. Jake led you to a cozy spot on the grass, where he had laid out a checkered blanket adorned with heart patterns. As you both settled, he pulled out a basket filled with heart-shaped sandwiches, strawberries with chocolate (STRAWBERRY WITH CHOCOLATE), and cookies decorated with pink icing.

“This looks great!” you exclaimed, your mouth watering.

“I’m glad you think so!” Jake said, handing you a heart-shaped sandwich. “I made sure to include everything you love—no mayo, just how you like it.”

As you both enjoyed the picnic, you talked about everything and anything. Jake loved hearing your laughter, especially when you made fun of his attempts at “cooking.” 

“I mean, who knew heart-shaped sandwiches could be so… avant-garde?” you taunted.

“Hey, it’s called creativity!” he hit back, giggling. “I’m basically an artist.”

After finishing the picnic, Jake asked, “How about we take a walk around the park? I heard there’s a cute pond nearby with some Valentine’s decorations.”

You nodded, eager to explore. As you walked, side by side, the gentle breeze rustled the leaves, and the sound of laughter from nearby children filled the air. Jake felt a sense of peace, enjoying the simple pleasure of being with you.

When you reached the pond, you were captivated by the sight. The water sparkled under the sunlight, and ducks paddled lazily across the water’s surface. You leaned over the bridge’s railing, eyes wide with wonder.

“They’re so cute!” you exclaimed, pointing at the ducks. “Look at ‘em!”

Jake chuckled, his heart swelling at your enthusiasm. “They are. Wanna feed them?”

You nodded eagerly, and Jake reached into his bag, pulling out some bread he had brought (don’t actually feed ducks bread! It causes digestion problems. feed them quinoa instead). He tore off small pieces and handed them to you. Together, you tossed the bread into the water, watching as the ducks quacked and splashed around, eagerly eating the treats.

“This is so much fun!” you laughed, your joy infectious. “I feel like a Disney princess!”

“Just wait until the squirrels start singing,” Jake joked, rolling his eyes dramatically. “Then we’ll know we’ve made it.”

After a while, you both decided to sit on a nearby bench, enjoying the view of the pond. Jake turned to you, his expression serious for a moment. “I’m really glad we could do this together. I’ve been looking forward to it all week.”

You smiled, cheeks turning warm.

As the afternoon sun began to dip lower in the sky, casting a pink-golden hue over the park, Jake suggested, “How about we take a few pictures to remember today?”

You agreed enthusiastically, and he pulled out his phone. He snapped a few candid shots of you, capturing your laughter and the way the sunlight danced in your hair. Then, it was your turn to take pictures of him. You playfully posed, making silly faces that made him laugh.

“Okay, now let’s take a serious one!” you said with a mock-serious expression, trying to stifle your giggles. Jake straightened up, putting on his best model face, and you couldn’t help but burst into laughter again.

“Seriously, though,” you said, wiping your tears of laughter from your eyes. “This day has been perfect.”

Jake smiled, his heart swelling with happiness. “I’m glad you think so. I wanted it to be special for you.”

As the sun began to set, the hues of orange and pink turning blue, you both settled back onto the bench, the warmth of the day wrapping around you like a cozy blanket. The park was starting to quiet down, the sounds of laughter fading into the distance.

“Do you remember our first Valentine’s Day together?” you asked, leaning your head on his shoulder.

“Of course! We were so awkward,” he chuckled, recalling the memory. “I think I tripped over my own feet trying to impress you.”

You laughed, nudging him playfully. “And I spilled juice all over your shirt! I thought you’d never want to see me again.”

“Never! You were too charming for that,” he replied, his voice softening. 

You looked up at him, your heart fluttering at the genuineness in his eyes. “You make everything better.”

As the last rays of sunlight dipped below the horizon, Jake took a deep breath, gathering his courage. “I know today is about celebrating love, and I just want you to know how much you mean to me.”

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Jake,” you echoed.

As the stars began to twinkle in the night sky, you both sat in comfortable silence, hand in hand, knowing that this day would be etched in your hearts forever. The cherry blossoms continued to dance in the gentle breeze, a beautiful reminder of the bond you have.

[prncesschloe]

—𝜗𝜚 how rafe cameron and flower!reader met 💭

previously; flower!readers intro

god, how good did rafe cameron feel to be back in good ol’ obx, and not whatever tropical country ward had tried relocating the camerons onto. he’d already handled and checked off a few of the things he needed to do aswell.

convince barry to help him steal the cross? check. actually steal the cross back? check. make it clear to ward that he has the upper hand now? check. melt the cross down? work in progress.

so now— here he was, at barry’s place going over all the shit they would need to achieve this step of this whole cash grab. and i just want you to imagine the look on rafe’s face when you— someone he’d never seen— and almost took for a touron, just walks into barry’s crib, not even muttering a single word before barry’s up and abandoning their conversation. grabbing what seemed to be a shoe box, which he didn’t know existed until this very moment, that was decorated with white lace, glitter and words titled ‘blythe’s magic grass’ written in big dainty cursive on the top.

and too make everything even more of a mind fuck, you hadn’t even seemed like you knew who the hell he was. he thought that you were just playing games at first, acting all on edge in his presence. (which was just your irrational fear of kooks in general) to which he thought was in results of his return and the whole peterkin situation, only to find out it wasn’t after he’d asked you what your name was. he was immediately shot back with, “what’s your name?” he didn’t know wether to be glad that this odd looking pouge— that he was slightly intrigued by didn’t know who he was and what he was known for, or to be taken back at the fact.

but if there was something rafe cameron did know, on this new path of exploring life without having wards iron grip on him— chaining him down and shaping him to be a obidient dog. was that whoever this chick that he had never seen a single day in his life, was a once in a lifetime opportunity take now— or a never see her again type of girl.

as soon as you left the trailer, picking up the dropped beach bicycle out on the front of barrys patchy front yard.. rafe didn’t hesitate to ask all the details about you, barry having to stop himself from knocking the light out of him at the mention of ‘a hot, odd, piece of work.’

AN : this is my first ever fic so i hope u guys enjoy ^w^!!!

[universefcb]

◎﹒⚽ . ❛ 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐄𝐒 ❜ ━━━ My first time writing here, hahaha. I'm so happy.

◎﹒⚽ . ❛❛𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐄𝐒❜❜ ━━━ English is not my first language, sorry if there is a mistake!

◎﹒⚽ . ❛𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐄𝐒❜ ━━━ Your comment and like are very important, don't be a ghost reader!

◎﹒⚽ . ❛𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐄𝐒❜ ━━━ OH MY GOD, I love this boy so much!

◎﹒⚽ . ❛❛𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐄𝐒❜❜ ━━━ 1.1k Of words

The girl placed the box on the counter and looked at Irene, her best friend. They were both organizing a surprise party for Pau, and since Irene wasn’t getting any help from her parents, she decided to rely on her best friend. The girl was two years younger than her, but that didn’t stop them from having a great friendship.

“All set, now we just need to fill up the balloons and hang them!” The girl said, clapping her hands together to remove the dust from the cardboard box that had been stored in the Cubarsí family’s storage room.

“Thanks for helping me; I don’t know what I would do without you,” she laughed, looking at her friend. “You can go home, take a shower, and come back. I’ll take care of the balloons.”

“What do you mean, come back?” she asked, shaking her head in confusion.

“Come back for the party, s/n,” her voice sounded obvious.

“I’m not close enough to Pau to be at his party, Rene,” she shrugged, walking toward the living room with Irene following behind.

“But you’re MY best friend, and you’re helping organize the party. You have every right to be here.” They both sat down on the white couch in the living room. “Besides, Pau likes your company.” Her tone was teasing and mischievous.

“Don’t be silly, Irene.” She placed a pillow on her lap and fixed her gaze on the enormous TV. “He’s just polite to me, something you aren’t.”

Irene rolled her eyes and gave her friend a light slap on the back of the head. They both laughed, and Irene turned to look at her best friend more directly.

“Go get ready and come back looking gorgeous!” She stood up and pulled you by the wrists, dragging you to the door. “Bye-bye, baby.”

She closed the door in your face, and you just sighed, not having much choice but to go home. You took an Uber back.

Calmly, you got ready, running your hand through your hair, checking if everything looked perfect. You didn’t want to admit it, but you didn’t like being around Irene’s family. Actually, you didn’t like being around her younger brother, knowing that you’d never have a chance with him.

The garage door was open, and she stepped inside, seeing the backyard decorated in blue and red. Her eyes landed on Irene, who was chatting with some of Pau’s club friends. She smiled shyly, lowering her head in embarrassment as she felt all the boys’ gazes fall on her.

“I definitely wasn’t going to come,” she muttered, fidgeting with the hem of her floral white dress, shifting her feet awkwardly.

“Don’t be like that, grab the present, and let’s go talk to the kids.” Irene pulled her wrist, but she stopped.

“How do you know I bought something for him?” Her neck burned with embarrassment at the thought of Irene knowing about her feelings for her younger brother.

“I know you like the back of my hand. You spent three weeks going to the jewelry store at the mall, staring at the necklaces with the letter P. I’m not stupid.” She linked her arm with yours.

“I hate you,” she murmured as they approached the boys.

“Hi,” you said shyly, sitting on the chair next to Irene, which, coincidentally, was next to Pau.

You greeted him briefly, feeling embarrassed to be so close to him. Your hands were sweating and trembling. You were an extremely shy person, and even more so when it came to boys and anything related to them.

“I need some help inside; would you guys mind helping me?” Irene looked at Hector and Yamal, who exchanged glances before smirking.

“We’d be happy to help,” Yamal said, getting up, and Hector followed. The three of them left, leaving the “couple” alone.

“Well… Happy birthday!” She smiled, lowering her head to rummage inside her bag until she found a small black velvet box. “I know it’s not a big present… but I didn’t want to come empty-handed.”

She mentally cursed herself for blushing as he flashed a beautiful smile upon seeing the box. Pau took the small object from her hands and opened it, revealing a beautiful silver necklace with the letter P. He chuckled, and s/n’s stomach churned, unsure if he liked it or if he was laughing at her for being pathetic.

“This is the best gift I’ve received.” He lifted his gaze, looking at the girl in front of him. She had a surprised expression on her face, uncertain if he would like it. “Will you put it on me?”

Pau handed her the necklace, turning his back to her. The girl fastened it around his neck and watched as he turned back to her. Her eyes sparkled upon seeing the smile on his face, and she felt her stomach flutter as butterflies danced in a calm, happy melody

“It looks perfect on you,” she whispered, too shy to say it louder. “I should go inside; Irene probably needs help…”

She stood up, wanting to escape, but his large hand grabbed her wrist, making her stop and look at him—at those green eyes that appeared darker due to the night and the dim lighting.

“What is it?” she stammered, watching him rise from his chair, towering over her without releasing her wrist.

It was no secret that Pau was incredibly tall, and she looked tiny beside him, barely reaching his shoulders. She had to tilt her head up to meet his gaze, which made her blush even more. The warmth of his touch made her feel hot; everything about him turned her red.

“I can’t miss this chance,” his voice sounded anxious and breathless.

Before she could respond, he leaned down and pressed his lips against hers. She gasped in surprise, unable to believe HE had done that. He noticed she didn’t immediately respond and started to pull away, but she pulled him back, rising onto her tiptoes to kiss him. His lips were soft and warm, like clouds. His hands moved to her waist, gripping it and pulling her even closer.

They pulled apart, breathless and flushed. He smiled at her, gently running his finger across her cheek, making her smile.

“Be mine, please…!” She looked into his eyes, seeing them shine, and she smiled at that.

“I already am.”

As soon as she said that, it was all the encouragement he needed to kiss her again—this time, even more passionately.

[sunshine-and-his-stars]

WHATS UP PARTY PEOPLE

Ya boi is back with some EaPS headcanons because I'm completely and utterly normal about this gods damned fandom and someone has to give these characters some comfort. Please.

IF YOU DON'T AGREE, KEEP SCROLLING LOSER I'M HAVING FUN AND BEING WHIMSICAL. That said comments are more than welcome please share your headcanons with me too :3 just. don't be weird.

Charlie doesn't like to sleep alone, or where it's quiet, so she comes out and makes a nest of blankets on the floor in Eclipse's lab or wherever he's working. She likes the background noise, it reminds her of her dad.

Charlie has issues with her balance, even before she was in the puppet body, so she starts practicing dancing with Ballora and Ruin to learn how to get a bit better. She's still crazy clumsy, but at least she's having fun.

Charlie, Andrew, Andy, and Jake watch Bluey together. Andy pretends he doesn't like it, but then ends up smiling and very invested in the lore. They also play roblox together, Charlie teaches them how to play adopt me and Jake is practically addicted.

Eclipse has to learn how to style hair once his kids are in their new bodies, all of the kids want help with their other than Andy, so Ballora comes to help him and they work together. Ruin and Sunrise help sometimes too.

Charlie likes to just sit with Eclipse when he's working on his projects, handing him tools and talking about her day. Eclipse just lets her yap, and she's happy to have a chance to have someone who's listening.

Andy gets nightmares, so sometimes he'll go sleep with Eclipse who still knows some lullabies from being with Sun and Moon he'll sing to him.

If Andy goes to sleep with Eclipse, they'll both wake up with all the other kids curled up in different places on the bed as well.

Charlie sleeps like a starfish and is such a freaking bed hog. Jake always takes the blankets. Andy kicks in his sleep. Andrew sleeps in a ball usually underneath the blankets so you have to be really careful you don't accidentally lay on top of him.

Eclipse listens to rock music when he's working on projects, and Charlie doesn't really understand most of it but she starts learning the words and singing along while he's working on his projects while she's coloring on the floor.

Due to splitting from FC after being in the box for so long, Andy has to use mobility aids like braces or crutches for a while because he's still adjusting to having his own body and moving.

Eclipse uses a cane after the incident with Jake and Andrew's Stitchwraith, even after fixing himself up it isn't perfect. He tries to avoid using it for a while, but he gets scolded by Ballora enough and starts using it. Charlie and the boys cover it with stickers and decorations they "borrow" from the daycare. (Moon knows they took them but won't tell)

The longer that Charlie and the boys are there the more like a home the lab starts to feel. Eclipse converts one of the rooms into a bedroom for all of them, and they all get to decorate it, bickering like siblings do. The walls of the lab are covered in coloring pages and crayon drawings of things that the kids want Eclipse to build for them. Jake stole some string lights from one of the arcades and they all work together to get them hung up around the lab. They cover his desk and computers in stickers and he puts up photos of them and him on their "adventures".

When Charlie gets in trouble, Eclipse has to ground her from using her powers and she gets *so* upset. She will walk exponentially slower just to be annoying for him.

[tetsunabouquet]

Jinx as an Artist- Headcanons

A/N: Given how Jinx is amongst the most divisive S2 characters and I already had a debate about her in my comment section for my Isha headcanons, I wanted to write something light-hearted about Jinx. Heavily features Silco and the way she bonded with him specifically over her likes.

-For one, let's talk about her love for neon paint. As an artist who loves using neon paint (as you can see in my archive when looking at my paintings), I do need to point out that Jinx must own a LOT. For one, she uses it often and secondly, neon paint has a less stronger coverage then your average type of paint and often requires a few layers. -Which brings me to the production of that very paint. Because just what is the origin of neon paint within the world of Arcane? Because of the properties, I am betting my ass Silco has been using Shimmer variations for the luminous properties to make a huge painting supply for Jinx as he thought a little bit of painting would do wonders for her mental health. Plus, tell me Silco wouldn't produce a huge drug-based painting supply in the face of a pouting Jinx. It's so in line for him being a soft daddy druglord. -When Jinx took some interest into the production, she learnt about pigment in detail and started applying that to different things, like colored smoke to improve on her techniques. -Jinx also knows how to sew. I mean, who'd make Claggor and Milo plushies for her and make them feel accurate to her memories of them? She totally made them herself. -Her pants are also one of her own creations. I mean, she could feel insulted over the Enforcer mocking her image, but knowing Jinx' creativity and the fact she must know how to sew, it's easy to deduce she made her pants and felt upset someone was insulting her creations. I get the feeling girl. -Given Silco low-key being a fashionista, I have a feeling whoever made his clothes (if it's not Silco himself) was the one to teach Jinx how to sew, something that is further supported by AU Powder having a leather jacket similar to a younger Silco and even AU Milo looking like Silco taught him a thing or two about fashion. It's clear Silco cares more about how his children dress up like then Vander does. -Speaking off AU Powder's leather jacket, I can totally imagine that if glitter existed in the Arcane universe, those totally would have been decorated with glitter considering she likes to stand out. Can you imagine Jinx's tattoos being a glittery blue pattern on her jacket sleeves? Because I can. I also can imagine some glitter added to her pink eyeliner when she goes out too. -I can totally imagine mornings with Jinx just sewing some kind of clothing item next to Silco who's reading Piltover's newspaper and Sevika bursting in with some kind of emergency and promptly needing to recover from walking into the almost Victorian era domestic scene and having total whiplash as how can they look so fucking peaceful?

[uboacore]

Had the time of my life running between these crates of pumpkins and squashes in a haze of excitement

[icewindandboringhorror]

HAPPY 16TH BIRTHDAY!!! To this elderly bapy boye!!! he...!!!

[totto70]

Christmas feeling in Stockholm

[boxofsox]

[angrybatart]

Need to set a good example for young moths.

Got the idea after watching the spirit parade again and seeing Overactive Overachiever aggressively walking behind the others. Saw other people mention the aggressive emoting and finally saw it myself. It's hilarious to watch.