#what really matters is not how strong they are but how far someone is willing to go to protect their loved ones

[courtesanofdeath]

[cloudcountry]

since you guys liked my idea so much here it is: WAYS THE NRC BOYS WOULD MAKE YOU WORSE

reader's personality is based more off of in-game yuu than anything? this set of hcs is a bunch of hypotheticals basically. this can be read as platonic or romantic idk each guy is written as if they are the closest person to you, friends or otherwise.

IF YOU SEE A TYPO NO YOU DONT

mentally preparing myself for the "i wouldnt do that!!!!!" comments...and post.

Riddle increases your attentiveness to the rules tenfold. No matter how meek you are, he makes your voice strong—and oh boy does it carry. You’re yelling at people for running in the halls, chastising them for not doing their homework, and opening your mouth wider when you speak. For a school full of troublemakers like Night Raven, the entire student body is so disappointed there’s another Riddle.

Trey makes you more passive, less likely to speak up when you see something. He’s always stood back in the shadows, watching over everything without saying a word, and it’s seeped into your personality, too. You’re spineless now. This world is unfamiliar, why should you try to do anything? You’d only stand out. You don’t want to be outstanding. You want to be as normal as possible. So you stand back.

Cater gets you wrapped up in the hype of social media. It started out as a way to indulge his interests but now you’re on Magicam all day, scrolling and scrolling and scrolling. You send things to your friends and say “hey, we should do this” but never make any actual effort to connect with them outside of that. You fall easier into jealousy because you’re surrounded by glamor.

Deuce makes you reckless. He’s so willing to throw himself into things and it spurs you to do the same, no matter how many times your teachers or potential upperclassmen tell you not to. You can’t hear anything but Deuce and his yelling, his enthusiasm and terror for whichever situation you two find yourselves in, knowing that you’d follow him anywhere.

Ace makes you all the more prickly, your sharp jabs and irritating smugness a product of spending too much time with him. You two are two peas in a pod, but to an outsider you two just seem...irritating. You have a talent for getting under people’s skin and have definitely gotten better at lying.

Leona thinks its so cute how you try to defend him at every twist and turn. Like no, he is as dastardly as everyone is saying. Why are you trying to deny it? You’re suddenly seeing reason in the most massive ego-ed people this side of Sage Island and Leona honestly doesn’t know if he should be concerned for you or be amused because of you. (This one in particular was inspired by @loser-jpg LMAO)

Ruggie could have made you prioritize yourself more, but you think he took it a bit too far. See, now you’re snatching cafeteria items and worksheets right under people’s noses, giggling as they demand you give it back. Sometimes they don’t even notice you, but even if they did you’ve learned how to be lighter on your feet.

Jack and you are incredibly uncooperative people (unless you owe someone, of course.) He’s guided you away from asking for help, insisting that the people here will take advantage of you then turning around to say that he doesn’t care, he just doesn't want to get wrapped up in your mess. It’s like you can’t trust anyone but him and your Heartslabyul friends anymore.

Azul has given you one nasty sense of perception, allowing you to key into every little detail and find loopholes in the things people say in a second. He’s turned you into a deadly asset, one he treasures just as much as the student body fears. You read over his contracts and point out what you would do to get out of them, and he adjusts accordingly. What a fine team you two make!

Jade makes it clear that his morals are less than savory, and will often encourage you to partake in things you really shouldn't. You rationalize it as Jade helping you go after the things you want, to finally take and take and take from people when you’ve been so selfless all your life, because it's what you deserve isn’t it?

Floyd will often rope you into his schemes, and it's not wrong before you start doing the same. Once a model student, attending every class, you now skip class and watch with amusement as Floyd threatens another student, hiding your smile behind your hand. They may plead for your assistance, but who are you to stop Floyd? This poor soul clearly owed something.

Kalim instills you with a sense of jealousy and helplessness. He has money to solve all of his problems, his life must be so easy. You’ve lived through so many overblots and received no help from anyone, but Kalim has always been so kind and generous to you. It makes you resent him a little, and anyone else who tries to help, because they all have things that you don’t and that's just not fair.

Jamil twists and bends your mind so much that you can do the very same thing to others. You’ve caught onto his little game and he knows it, eyeing you with anticipation whenever you speak in the same honeyed tone he uses when he wants something. You’ve gotten scarily good at hiding it too, shooting him a smug grin because you know he knows, but nobody else does.

Vil brings out so much confidence in your abilities it’s borderline arrogance. You know you’re capable, so why doesn’t everyone just let you handle this? You can do it, they can’t. So they should just step aside. You’re not doing it to be mean, so why are they getting so annoyed at you? You’re just better.

Rook has some eccentricities, and you’re well aware of them. They put you off at first, but now you’re used to him. It just seems normal now. You’re not sure why everyone makes such a big deal out of his tendencies, that’s just how he is. He’ll stalk you, hunt you down, but he’s having fun! Don’t spoil it for him!

Epel is actually the perfect fit for NRC, you think. He’s a troublemaker, he’s stubborn, and he’s so, so angry. But he’s right! Why should you respect people who claim to be above you? It’s so irritating that they walk around with those annoying smirks on their faces. You two should do something about that, don’t you think?

Idia has a very specific way of talking that can not only be confusing, but can also irritate the hell out of people. Of all things you could pick up from him, you picked up his smug jabs and insults, accompanied by a tooth grin and a laugh. It’s unnerving how much he’s rubbed off on you, a true testament to how close you too are much to the chagrin of the rest of NRC.

Malleus finds so much delight in being your bodyguard, your most trusted companion, that he doesn’t even bat an eye when you use his magic for your own gain. You’ve gotten soft, molding to whatever shape Malleus wants you to be just so he won’t leave. You’re helpless without him, only he has the will and the magic to protect you. So won’t he please stay?

Lilia has a way of dodging the truth, putting a smile on his face even when he’s hurting. It makes you think that, if he can do that, why can’t you? Lilia is smart, he knows how to go about life, so you should follow his lead and bury your problems until they’ll never see the light again.

Sebek has done nothing but berate you for being human since you met him, and even if you’ve gotten closer to him over the course of your stay in Twisted Wonderland, you’re starting to think he’s right. If you had magic, if you weren’t human, you’d be more powerful. It’s a fact. You could do so much more if you weren’t so weak.

Silver has made you complacent. He takes each step carefully, protecting both you and Malleus, so why would you need to protect yourself in any capacity? It’s so nice, having this safety net. If you could, you'd rely on Silver forever, never facing the cruel realities of the world that are blocked by his strong arms.

[dreamsteddie]

Never Better

Written for the @stmarchmm day five prompt “collaring” | Tags: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Insecure Steve Harrington, Alpha Eddie Munson, Omega Steve Harrington

Bat divider -@popmilky

Also posted on Ao3

The problem with being the Omega half of an Alpha/Omega pair and also being deeply possessive of your mate and pack is that your bite doesn’t stick.

No matter how hard he clamps down, no matter how much he makes Eddie bleed, the bite is always healed in a matter of days. Too many years of evolution ensuring that Alphas heal at max speed, making it impossible for a bite at the already rapidly healing mating gland to stick around.

Every time he rolls over in bed to see his mark gone from his Alpha’s throat, like it never existed, Steve’s heart hurts just a little bit. Eddie can always tell from the bond, always rolls over instinctively and blinks awake, reaching for his Omega before he even knows what’s wrong. He always offers his neck right up again, willing to let Steve latch on and make him bleed no matter how much it hurts. He just wants to make Steve happy.

But after a while, Steve starts to give up. He rolls over a year into their mating to see Eddie’s neck healed once again and rolls back over. When Eddie wakes up and reaches for him, tilting his head up to offer his throat, Steve tells him it’s ok. He doesn’t want to hurt Eddie again when it won’t last.

Eddie is concerned and tries to assure his mate that he doesn’t mind. He loves carrying his mark and doesn’t care that it hurts every time, at this point it only registers as a dull ache. But Steve is adamant.

The problem is, the reason Steve has always been so insistent on marking Eddie is that ever since they got the hell out of Hawkins, Indiana, Omegas and Betas have been all over his mate. Steve has always known that Eddie is a hell of a catch. He’s sweet, caring, considerate, goofy, and still somehow 100% Alpha in the best way. He’s so authentically himself while still managing to be strong and capable in a way that makes Steve’s knees feel weak, and now that he’s not haunted by his reputation as an untouchable “freak”, he draws a lot of attention.

Steve can’t blame them, but that doesn’t mean he has to like it.

Eddie always says no, kindly at first and getting more firm the longer they insist on “one little date” even after he explains that he is happily mated and not interested in a second mate. But Steve has been through some things. He’s been cheated on, he’s been left behind, he’s been the third in a relationship that didn’t really want him for more than a couple quick fucks and shared responsibility of the chores. Every time someone approaches Eddie, all he can think is “this will be the one. This will be the one Eddie decides is better than me.”

He thinks he’s got a grip on it. Thinks Eddie doesn’t know the extent to which this is eating him up inside. How much he’s worried Eddie will wake up and decide that not only does he not want Steve’s bite, he doesn’t want needy, clingy Steve at all anymore.

Until Steve comes home from work one day to find a long, fancy looking box lying perfectly centered on their coffee table. Everything else has been swept away, no half-empty mugs of coffee or sports magazines to be found, just a sleek black box. For a second Steve thinks it might be something sexy. They don’t use many toys, but it’s not out of the question.

But upon closer inspection, Steve sees that there is mat black lettering on the shiny black surface. Collar and Courting, it reads. With that, his knees fall out from under him. He knows that brand. Saw it in one of his Omega geared magazines that no one but Eddie knows he reads. Remembers how fixated he’d been on that article.

“Some say it’s old fashioned. Some even go as far as to say it’s an archaic show of status with no place in the modern age. Some say it’s the most romantic thing an Alpha can do for their mate. Love it or hate it, Collar and Courting is one of the last groups of leather artisans keeping the tradition of Alpha collaring alive.”

He thought he’d hidden it from Eddie, the longing in his chest, but he must have noticed. He always noticed. Hope surges painfully in his chest, his scent blooming. He’s almost afraid to open it, too scared of the slightest possibility that it’s not what he thinks it is.

When he finally musters the courage to lift the lid, his breath catches in his throat. Black, shiny leather stares back at him. More simple than he thought Eddie would go for, just a black band and buckle and a silver O right in the center. He doesn’t hear the footsteps behind him, isn’t aware of Eddie’s presence until he’s leaned over the back of the couch, speaking softly in his ear. 

“You like it?” He asks, as if Steve could ever not love it. He turns around and throws his arms around his mate, headless of the couch between them. 

“Of course I love it, you asshole!” He exclaims because really, what kind of question is that? Eddie laughs in his ear, climbing over the back of the couch instead of going around like the heathen he is. Steve loves him so much. They end up sprawled half haphazardly across the cushion, Eddie pressing noisy kisses into Steve’s neck until he’s a giggly mess.

When they finally calm down, Eddie sits them both up, looking deep into his eyes with that sincerity that always makes Steve swoon a little. “I’ve got one more thing for you,” he says like it’s a secret. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out something small. It clinks quietly against the metal of his rings.

Steve drags his eyes away from Eddie’s deep stare and immediately feels tears pooling in his eyes. It’s a charm, clearly meant for the O ring on the collar. Small and simple, no long winded engravings, just Steve’s signature. The same one on his ID, on his social security card, on the mating certificate hanging proudly on their bedroom wall.

“Fuck, I love you so much,” he says, voice muffled by the kiss he presses firmly to Eddie’s mouth. Eddie welcomes him the same way he always does, smiling into the kiss and pulling him in by the waist. Eventually, he pulls away, reaching for the abandoned box on the table.

“Come on big boy, don’t leave a guy hanging.” There’s mirth in his voice and joy in his eyes, but when Steve goes to pull the supple leather out the box, he pauses.

“Are you sure, Eddie? We don’t have to do this, I love you no matter what. I trust you.” He can see Eddie’s eyes dim with confusion, soft feelings of doubt seeping into the bond.

“What do you mean sweetheart?” He asks, reaching to lay his hand on Steve’s wrist. Comforting, always so comforting. Steve stares at the leather, this thing he wants so badly it hurts, but…

“I mean, I just know it’s kind of old fashioned,” he explains. “And I know you hate archaic gender roles. I just don’t want you to do this because you think you need to. Because you think I need you to.” Eddie is looking at him in that way that’s always so hard for him to read, even with the bond. Years of hiding from his father making Eddie excellent at masking how he feels.

“Listen to me,” he says, eyes back to that intense, earnest gaze that keeps Steve captive. “I love you so much, and there is nothing I want more than for every person on the street to know I’m yours. If I could go back and prevent millions of years of evolution so I could have your bite, I would do it in a heartbeat. I don’t give a shit if it’s traditional or non-traditional, I want this.” And now Steve is really crying. Big, fat, happy tears that Eddie wipes away with gentle fingers.

“Ok,” he says, wobbly but oh so happy.

“Yeah?” Eddie asks, checking in one last time.

“Yeah,” Steve confirms, firmer now. Sure.

Without another word, Eddie scoots back just enough to give Steve access, baring his neck the same way he used every other morning until Steve asked him to stop. Ready and willing for Steve to mark as his own. This time, Steve doesn’t hesitate. Brings the leather up, admiring how it looks against his mate's pale skin, and reaches around to secure it. It fits perfectly, Eddie must have had it custom made, the sap. Steve makes sure it sits low, leaving his mating gland free for scenting.

Wordlessly, Eddie passes him the little charm. His eyes are dark the same way they were when he bit Steve, like he’s trying to capture this moment in all its brightness. The metal makes a small snick sound as it settles into place, and then it’s Eddie’s turn to loose his breath as Steve tilts his head to press a soft kiss to the little tag. Finally, he pulls back, admiring the full picture.

Eddie preens a little under his gaze, tilting his head up just a little to show off his new jewelry. “Look good?” He asks.

Steve smiles, brighter than he has since he stopped trying to leave his mark. “Never better, baby.”

[wcnderlnds]

breathe on me | ham dae-gil

・❥・ summary: daegil teaches you how to play cards so you take it one step further challenging him to a game of strip poker ・❥・word count: 2.2k ・❥・warnings: 18+, MDNI. unprotected p in v, oral (f reciveing), fingering, slight overstimulation, a little rough??, female reader, gambling, smoking ・❥・ authors note: ...this might be the filthiest thing i've wrote so far im so sorry. i just love tazza and daegil 😭 also shoutout to my girl @infinetlyforgotten for giving me the idea for this <3

The world of gambling was a dangerous game. All it took was for someone to get involved in one game and they were hooked. Winning or losing didn’t matter, it was the promise of the possibility of money that kept the gambling world afloat. As long as people thought they’d win, there would never be a shortage of gambling dens and casinos. It could be a dark, dark world. Often people went missing, injured or even had their organs taken if they couldn’t pay back the money they owed. It wasn’t for the weak-hearted.

A job was a job so when you had been offered one in the casino, you decided to take it. There was nothing special about it; all you had to do was take drinks to people and look pretty. It was easy and who didn’t love an easy job for some cash? Sure, some of the men were vile, expecting you to offer other services but you made it very clear that if they even tried, you’d make them regret it. In this world, you had to be strong willed, sure of yourself and thankfully, you were. It did make you wonder why someone like Ham Daegil was part of this world, though. That was until you saw him play.

He was one of the best players you’d seen. His fingers fast, his brain constantly turning as he figured out his next move. He was a true hustler, the cocky smirk when he knew he was about to win, it did something to you. There was an aura about him, he was someone that people were easily drawn to – you included. There had been times you’d seen him around the casino, offering him a drink and taking part in idle chit-chat but that had been about it until one day when you finally caved and asked him the question that had been plaguing your mind since you’d first laid eyes on him.

“How’d you do it?” You asked, handing over the drink he’d asked for.

His brows furrowed in confusion, head tilting to the side as he looked at you. “Do what?”

“Come on! You win every game. There’s got to be a trick to it.”

“Hmm. Maybe.”

“Teach me?” You blurted out before you could even stop yourself.

Daegil looked at you, really looked at you before he slowly nodded his head. What harm could it do to teach you a few tricks?

Over the next few weeks, the two of you met up at his place so he could teach you how to play Hwatu. The first few times, you had failed miserably but as the days passed, you slowly got better. All you had to do was pay attention to Daegil, watch his hands and listen to the words he was saying which in itself was a task because he was a distraction all on his own. He’d sit there in front of you, cross legged in one of his suits looking like sin. It was hard not to be obvious as your eyes often flickered to his lips. He had noticed – of course he had but he was biding his time, making you wait. He wanted you desperate for him, practically begging.

You had clocked on to what he was doing immediately. The way he’d let his fingers skim over yours, the way he placed his hand on the small of your back as he led you through his door. The lingering touches, the way you’d often catch him adjusting his pants when you leaned forward to collect your cards, giving him a clear shot of your cleavage. It was a race to see who would cave in first at this point.

Unfortunately, it ended up being you.

One night while you were playing cards, you had the smart idea to turn it into a game of strip poker. The first few rounds you had won which meant Daegil had taken off his jacket and shirt leaving him shirtless in front of you. It was hard to tear your eyes from his bronze skin, his abs looking utterly sinful. That had been your downfall because suddenly he started winning, most of your clothes on a pile on the floor beside you leaving you only in your bra and panties.

“This isn’t fair,” you pouted.

“Distracted?” That cocky smirk was plastered on his face as he brought his cigarette up to his mouth to take a drag. 

“Only as distracted as you are.” You placed your cards down, crawling over towards him. You didn’t miss the way his eyes instantly shot to your breasts. This gave you ample opportunity to pick the cigarette out of his hands and take a drag of it yourself, nonchalantly blowing it back into his face. You were almost sure you heard him groan, it was quiet but it was there. “What? Cat got your tongue?”

He pulled the cigarette from your fingers, stubbing it out in the ashtray beside him, rising to his knees slightly, his arm snaking around your waist. “No but maybe if you stop being a fucking tease, you will.”

That caused you to laugh breathlessly, palm resting on his chest as he tugged you closer to him. There was no chance now you were this close to him, your hand snaking up to reach behind his neck, tugging him forward to crash his lips against yours. Instantly, his lips moved against yours, his tongue dragging along your bottom lip begging for entrance. You happily obliged, parting your lips and tangling your tongue with his. He tasted of whiskey and tobacco – a flavour you knew you were about to get addicted to. His hands slid down to your ass, giving it a quick squeeze as he laid you back to the carpeted floor. His soft lips trailed along your jaw, nipping at your earlobe. “You’ve been begging for this for weeks, huh?” His voice was a husky whisper in your ear.

“Show me what other tricks you can do with those fingers,” you breathed, pushing your hips up into his. He pressed his own hips back against you, grinding against your core. The feel of his length through his pants rubbing against you was delicious but not enough. 

As if sensing it, he let his lips leave a trail of open mouthed kisses down the column of your neck, his hand sliding up the inside of your thigh, stopping as he reached your core. He nipped at the skin on your neck, leaving his mark. When you felt his fingers dip between your panties, it was all over. His slender fingers sliding through your folds with ease. “All this for me, baby? Got you this wet and I’ve barely done anything yet. You really are desperate.”

His thumb found your clit, rubbing slow, tortuous circles against the sensitive bud. He had your back arching, a breathy moan slipping past your parted lips. He was teasing you on purpose, it was payback for all the weeks of this little game you’d been playing with him. He slipped a finger inside you, dragging it in and out slowly until he pushed another one inside. A loud gasp from you filled the air as he suddenly started moving his fingers inside you at a fast pace, curling them at just the right point to make you see stars. The drag of his long fingers inside you was driving you insane, your hips grinding against his hand. You were on the edge, so close and he knew it. His fingers worked double time, his thumb finding your clit once again and that was it. You were done for. His name flew from your mouth in a moan, body arching as you came around his fingers.

Just when you thought you could relax, have a moment to recuperate, Daegil’s fingers were hooking into your panties, pulling them down off your legs and discarding them somewhere over his shoulders. He wasted no time diving down, his tongue licking a long, flat stripe up your pussy. The moan that he drew from you was a whiny whimper, your hands flying to tangle in his dark locks. That drew a groan from him, reverberating through your body. His tongue found your clit, flicking it before sucking on it gently. He really was trying to kill you. 

“Daegil,” you whined, hips bucking up into his mouth. You were already sensitive from your recent orgasm, a second one fast approaching. He didn’t stop, ignoring your whines and proceeding to eat you out like a man starved. Of course he was just as skilled with his tongue as he was with his fingers. His tongue dipped inside, moving it a little and that was what drew your second orgasm from you. You tugged at his hair, body arching up off the floor. You were sure you almost blacked out, Daegil licking one more stripe along your folds before he pulled back. As you looked at him through hazy eyes, you could see your essence over his mouth. It was maybe one of the hottest things you’d ever seen, only doubled when he used the back of his hand to wipe it away.

“Such a good girl,” he praised, climbing up your body. His lips found yours once again, a slow, sensual kiss this time as he let you taste yourself on him. While he kissed you, you slid your hand between your bodies, popping the button on his pants and sliding them off as much as you could. Sensing what you were doing, he pulled back, standing up momentarily to discard himself of his pants and his boxers. He tilted his head as he eyed you, like a predator sizing up his prey. You were propped up on your elbows, chest rising and falling as you gazed up at him through your eyelashes. “On your hands and knees, baby.”

There was no way you were going to argue. Now you’d seen what he was packing you were more than ready to be fucked stupid by him even if you were oversensitive from your previous two orgasms. It was embarrassing how quickly you obeyed him, rising to your hands and knees, presenting yourself to him. Daegil pressed behind you, his hands gripping your hips, rubbing his erection against you to tease you. “Since you like begging for it, a little more won’t hurt you. Go on. Beg for it. Tell me how badly you want me.”

“Daegil, please.” It was a breathless whine, your hips pushing back against him. “Please, I need you. I want you. Fuck me, please.”

As much as he tried to hide it, he couldn't stop the moan that fell from his own lips at the sound of your breathy pleas, the way you were so desperately trying to press against him, begging for him to be inside you. Without a second thought, he grabbed his cock, pushing it into you in one fluid motion. He bottomed out, holding your hips against him. He stayed like that for a moment, giving you time to adjust to the feeling of him inside you… and maybe also because the feeling of being inside you finally almost made him cum instantly. Once he’d composed himself, he drew his hips back, slamming back into you with force. He set a hard, fast pace. The moans filling the room were loud enough for his neighbours to hear but he didn’t care. One of his slid up your back, fisting your hair into a makeshift ponytail as he pulled you up so he could see you. “This what you wanted?” He gruffed, his fingers digging into the skin of your hips hard enough to leave bruises.

All that came out from your mouth was a garbled ‘yes’. He let go of your hair, pushing your head down, your arms giving way. He was so close, his teeth gritted as he pounded into you to bring you both to ecstasy. “I’m so fucking close, baby. I know you are, too. Let go. Now.”

It was one hard thrust that sent you spiraling, a scream of his name echoing off the walls of his apartment. He groaned loudly, stilling as he emptied himself inside of you, your own name like a symphony from his lips. You both collapsed to the floor, panting heavily. His body pressing against your back as he caught his breath. Once he could finally think straight again, he pulled out of you. He threw himself down beside you, laying on his back, one hand on his chest as the other fished out his cigarettes from his pants laying beside him. He lit one, taking a drag before handing it over to you.

“That was something,” he chuckled, watching you blow the smoke from your kiss swollen lips. His arm wrapped around your shoulders, pulling you into his side. 

“Yeah, definitely something. Let’s make a deal.”

“Hmmm?”

“We have a repeat of this everytime I bet you at a game.”

Daegil laughed, his dimples prominent which caused your heart to melt. A stark contrast to the desire you had just felt for him. “You just want me to lose on purpose.”

Maybe you did but if it meant more time with him teaching you how to play and repeat performances of this? You weren’t complaining.

taglist (ask to be added): @ldydeath @infinetlyforgotten @aizshallnotbefound @justsisse

[sorceressofthesky]

Something I find really compelling about Zaundads is the fact that you can clearly see the division between their ideologies in the way they show their love. When Silco and Vander were still a pair, Silco loved Vander for his brutality. He loved Vander because he was angry at the world; because he was fierce and tenacious and capable of devastating violence. He respected Vander's willingness to fight for the cause and his loyalty to their shared ideals. And we know from Silco's parenting of Jinx that when he loves someone, he uses them. That's not to say this is a good or bad thing, but just an observation. He loves people for the potential he sees in them - in Vander, it's his capacity for violence, and in Jinx, it's her capacity for chaos and destruction - and a big part of how he shows love is by fostering that potential. Creating the means and motivation to use it. He lives by the notion that "there's a monster inside all of us", which started with his perception Vander, and extended to Jinx later on. He sees a monster in himself too, but he's not a naturally violent person, so he surrounds himself with people who he does see as strong and capable, and channels his indignation through the people he trusts most.

Meanwhile, when Vander loves someone, he's gentle with them. He has this innate protective instinct that drives him, and he's capable of summoning his brutal side when his world is under threat, but his default is care and affection. With his kids, it comes out mostly in the form of guidance; being a calm voice of reason when it's needed. We don't see it as much with Silco given the lack of insight into their past, but we do have hints of it in the flashback - with both Silco and Felicia. Silco already has a bowl of soup and a cup at the start of the scene, which, based on context clues, were most likely prepared for him by Vander. Vander also pours drinks for the three of them, and upon finding out that Felicia is pregnant, he replaces hers with a non-alcoholic option. His automatic response to her distress is to comfort and console her ("you're going to be a great mother"). In contrast, Silco listens silently for most of the conversation, and contributes in the only way he knows how - by agreeing to continue the fight for Zaun, no matter the cost.

And I think, ultimately, this would have always created a division between Vander and Silco. Whether or not Felicia and Connol were killed in the explosion. Whether or not the kids were even in the picture. It was inevitable that somewhere down the line, Silco would keep pushing the limits, and he would reach one that Vander couldn't exceed. Felicia's death might have been the catalyst for the betrayal, but it seems like the ideological rift ran a lot deeper than that - particularly noting the line from Vander in S1E3; "You had my respect, the Lanes' respect, but that... that was never enough for you." The phrasing makes it sound like he was already fed up with just how far Silco was willing to go for justice.

Vander regretted the violent way he went about the split, but I don't get the impression that he ever regretted the actual decision to part ways with Silco. Which actually creates another interesting contrast in itself, because Silco's perspective was the complete opposite. Silco had already forgiven Vander for the drowning incident by the time they met up again. The murder attempt was brutal, and Silco is unquestionably traumatised by it, but he never stopped respecting Vander, nor does he ever ask why he did it. Because that isn't the part he's hung up on. He understands why Vander went about the betrayal in such a vicious manner. Anger and violence were what he loved about Vander in the first place, and as such, Vander trying to drown him was consistent with everything Silco knew and respected about him. The Vander he didn't understand was the one who gave up on fighting out of fear of what he might lose, and that was the Vander he resented.

Reconciliation is definitely possible between them, and that's clear even without regarding the S2E7 AU, because it happens in the main timeline. Silco is given a choice between his dream and Jinx, and the first place he goes to deliberate is the Vander statue, because finally, he does understand. He understands why Vander bent to the Enforcers' will just to keep his kids safe. But he only understands it because, by that point, he's lived it himself. In an alternate timeline scenario, if Silco were to forgive Vander, there would need to be some other catalyst that triggers that understanding. It would take a lot more than simply reading an apology letter - not because of how terrible the apology was, but because Vander was apologising for the wrong thing.

[morlock-holmes]

Towards a Unified Theory of Conspiracy Crank Politics

I've been thinking a lot about what seems to drive the person I will call, for lack of a better term, the conspiracy crank world-view, and particularly, my feelings about the great crank realignment.

A lot of people have said, "It seems like 30 years ago conspiracy weirdos were pretty bipartisan people, but now they all seem to be Trump loyalists."

My belief is that it's not that the conspiracy cranks became more right-wing; rather, it's that the Republicans have largely stopped being a right-wing party and are instead now a conspiracy crank party.

So, I've said this before, and I'm not well enough read in the history of conspiracy thinking to bring up old examples, but as a kid I subscribed to Skeptical Enquirer, and I remember quickly coming to two conclusions:

The reason a lot of the alien conspiracy X Files stuff is so interesting in fiction is that talented fiction writers have used it as a jumping off point to make an interesting story; the primary conspiracy literature is often very poorly written, not very inventive, and frequently openly bigoted, which leads into my second discovery,

A lot of times there is only one degree of seperation between "Big pharma and modern living has severed our spiritual connection to our earth mother Gaia" and "The Jews run the world with the aim of keeping the white race enslaved". Like, the far right conspiracy people were often really willing to ally with and break bread with the far left conspiracy people, and vice versa, in fact much more so then the more grounded parts of the left and right.

And I think that's because the conspiracy theorists have a kind of common mindset with certain shared features, regardless of the specifics of their conspiracy.

These are things that I have noticed as commonalities, and they aren't limited to conspiracy cranks; in fact, probably the vast majority of people have these habits of thought to some extent. My argument is that they are often abnormally strong in conspiracy believers.

Belief in a just world. A lot of fringe types have a really strong belief that the world is fundamentally just, and that in the ordinary course of things bad things do not happen to good people. Bad things only happen because a personified force arranged for the bad thing to happen. The example I've used before is slipping and falling off a ladder. Many of us would attribute such a thing to pure chance; some people will take it as evidence that a witch or a demon has cursed them.

An extreme difficulty with feeling out of control. It is hard for them to accept that in some circumstances they may not have control. Things which make them feel like they are no longer in control are very often interpreted as hostilities against them.

A severe difficulty in actually putting themselves in another person's shoes. Often, the conspiracy minded person is incredibly judgemental about others, and particularly, they really, really struggle with the idea that something might be easy for them, but difficult for someone else, or difficult for them, but necessary to help someone else.

Like I said, we all have these habits to some extent, I just think they are often magnified in the conspiracy crank.

As an example of what I mean by these thought patters, I am in the middle of a podcast reviewing a crank movie about how germs don't cause diseases. And apparently, in this movie, they first have a heroic interview with a restaurant owner who not only never required his patrons to wear masks, he actually banned any mask wearing on the premises.

Which is followed immediately by a scene of a person getting kicked out of a store for not masking, and talking about how it's incredibly shocking that what should be a matter of personal conscience is being enforced by the government.

And there's just no sense that there is any hypocrisy or tension here.

What I mean is, a principled libertarian might say, "Each individual business can require masks, or require you to take masks off, or have no policy, according to their individual decision, and we should allow them to make those decisions and abide by them."

Another principled position might be that we have extremely compelling evidence for the pandemic, and maybe certain kinds of policies should be temporarily enacted to slow the spread, even though they infringe on what would be, in ordinary times, important liberties, because they serve to protect the collective greater good.

Either of these positions sort of takes it for granted that a choice that I, personally, might not fully agree with might still be important to other people.

But the crank mindset says, "I don't want to wear a mask. So forcing people to wear a mask is an imposition on important freedoms. But since I'm already comfortable without a mask, forcing people to take their masks off isn't any kind of imposition on anybody's freedom, that's ridiculous."

You can see what I'm talking about most clearly in certain right-wing Christians. I've seen Christians say that freedom is exactly the same as following God's will, and that disobedience to God is a form of bondage and slavery.

These habits of mind are not, themselves, partisan; the can be applied to any cause, right-wing or left-wing. I might just have easily brought up "Free speech doesn't mean tolerating hate speech."

But I would argue that the reverse is not true, that you can build a political party that caters primarily to people with these habits of mind.

These people tend to flock to politicians who simultaneously promise a strong government which they can borrow to reassert their sense of control in the world, but the actual specific politics of that government are squishy and malleable.

The government has to be strong and able to domineer others because the conspiracy crank understands that they are in opposition to some large portion of the population, and so the government has to be strong enough to say, for example, "We will make sure that no private business will kick you out for wearing a mask."

When the world feels out of control, the government will lend you the tools to reassert your control over the world around you.

But the actual political goals of the government have to be extremely vague and malleable, so that they can move quickly to maintain the illusion that good people don't ever really disagree about this stuff.

A government which is coherently committed to a libertarian project might well say, "Sorry, those businesses have every right to decide who they cater to."

You have to be a weathervane, once a majority of cranks decide that vaccines and mask mandates are bad, you have to swivel and take that position in order to maintain a sort of illusion that whatever freedoms your crank audience wants in the moment are inherently sensible and that no sane person could disagree.

My argument is that Trump has turned the Republicans into the crank party, the party that signals to cranks that it will have their backs, whereas thirty years ago, the parties were still committed enough to coherent political goals that neither one could make that promise, and so cranks had to be politically idiosyncratic.

[voxslays]

DAE-HO AS YOUR BF

BEFORE THE GAMES

First of all, this man is one of the sweetest in the entire damn series. He is the type to constantly be getting you flowers and your favorite types of sweets (whether that be chocolates, lollipops, baked goods, etc).

Always there to hype you up, no matter the situation. Even if you’re in the wrong. Dae-ho will never play the devil’s advocate, although he will make you think about your actions in a kind, stress and judgement free way.

Despite all your shared debt, Dae-ho still adores spoiling you in little ways. Picking little flowers from nearby meadows in Seoul’s natural parks. Buying you little trinkets that remind him of you; like bracelets and mini music boxes.

Will never let you walk home alone at night. This man doesn’t care how far away you are. Twenty miles? Fifty? He’ll get there just to make sure nobody touches or tries anything on your way home. He may be a little paranoid from his time in the marines.

When walking together, he’ll always have his large, calloused and veiny hand on the small of your back. It gives both him and you a sense of belonging and comfort—so much so, that it’s become a habit by now.

I imagine Dae-ho is a great listener who will sit for hours listening to your rants (and problems). But when it comes to him? He tries to hide it from you. Why? Because he’s scared you’ll find him weak and pathetic.

I imagine over the years he lived with his dad, his mental state was really hit hard. He still has trouble being open and vulnerable with you, but he tries his best. And he’s really glad to have someone as caring as you on his side.

DURING THE GAMES

Absolutely shocked and horrified when he sees you wearing the same green tracksuit as him—even more so when he hears why you joined. Because you wanted the you and him to have a better future together.

He always insists on giving you at least half of his food portions. He says it’s because you need the strength more than he does, even though it’s not true. In the end, all he wants is for you to survive, and is willing to do anything to ensure it.

Keeps you close during all of the games, but especially mingle. Heaven knows Dae-ho couldn’t live with himself if you died and he lived. He trusts and cares for Gi-hun and the others, but will always pick you first.

Every single time the song goes quiet and the platform stops, he’s nearly dragging you off the platform before the number is even announced, giving both of you a head start to the madness rush caused by the panic.

During the rebellion, all he can think of is you. After all you’ve been through together, how could he just leave you like that? And his negative feelings and thoughts are intensified due to his episode. Yet, tries his best to remain strong for your allies.

When he runs back to get ammo, he is so out of it, he barely even notices you running over to ask him what’s going on. He just watches in awe as you rush into action, grabbing the ammo from the dead guards pockets. All for him.

All he feels is warmth as you help comfort him as he comes down from his PTSD attack. In the end, he vows to get both of you out of there alive, no matter what it takes. By any circumstances. And in the end, that’s just what he does.

AFTER THE GAMES

When you are kicked out onto the separate empty streets you were first picked up on—card in mouth—you were confused. Until someone pulls of your blindfold. Dae-ho. You look up at his messy hair. He looks relieved.

He was now in one of his shirts instead of the green tracksuit you were so used to by now. Yet, even in his disheveled state, he still managed to be as handsome as ever. He quickly helps you to your feet and pulls you into a warm, enveloping hug.

The two of you walk to your nearest bank together, pulling out your cards and putting your player numbers in, unlocking them. Yet, even with all the accumulated wealth you now share, you both only pull out enough to pay off your debts.

You both go to therapy, although you mask the real reason why. How were you supposed to explain to a therapist you were visiting that you were in a series of death games without seeming absolutely crazy?

Dae-ho also becomes a lot more protective and clingy after you leave the island, as if scared to lose you (he is). Which is one of the reasons he proposes to you and buys a house for you to share. Together at last. No danger in sight.

To outsiders, it may seem sudden or too soon—but to you? It couldn’t have been soon enough. You and Dae-ho are ready to leave the games behind you, and this seems like the next logical step. It feels…right.

NSFW

Super good with his mouth and fingers. He has a long tongue and is extremely soft and agile with it. He is fingers are almost freakishly long and thick, perfect for his deep, controlled movements. Plus, he can be such a tease.

If he wanted to, Dae-ho could edge you all night long—simply drinking in your essence. Sucking on your clit, dragging his tongue through your thick folds and gummy walls. Letting his fingers slowly penetrate you as you moan uncontrollably.

Besides being a munch, he also has a huge dick. Around eight inches, to be exact—and thick af. Every time he slides into you, it’s a struggle. You cry out about not being able to take him every single time, and he is as gentle as can be.

He is never rough with you, even as his cock feels like it’s impaling you. Dae-ho always goes as slow as you need, not wanting to push you too far. In conclusion, he knows what he’s doing and is the gentlest giant ever made.

[sylus-doll]

Synopsis: Sometimes, when spending time with him, you feel like he owes you something. You decide to tell him about it one day.

Warnings: References to Sylus's Myth.

Author's note: Was gonna post this earlier but I got sick and my period hit me real bad LOL. Comments and reblogs are appreciated, enjoy! <3

You loved spending time with Sylus. It's the most fun you'll have, no matter how ridiculous your ideas may be. He always finds a way to make it work. With him, the word “limits” has erased itself from your dictionary. Instead, you ask yourself just how far Sylus is willing to go for your sake. But the answer is simple, really. His resources and time seem to be unending when you are the focal point of the picture. Ask for the moon, and he will bring back the stars along with it.

Even if the two of you aren't going out, choosing to stay in and bask in each other's company. These domestically intimate moments are just as— if not more— precious. Just like now. You've dragged Sylus into his bathroom, an assortment of skincare products you wanted to try already sitting on the sink countertop. Grabbing a tub of facial mask, you twist open the lid, scooping some of it with two fingers.

“Bend down. And close your eyes.” Your words come out more demanding than you wanted it to.

“My... So bossy, sweetie. No magic words to sweeten the deal?” But Sylus doesn't even try to act like he's reluctant to do so.

Spreading the clay mask on his face, you take the time to admire his features. Tracing your fingers along his strong eyebrows, down the bump of his nose, over his prominent cupid's bow lips. For someone not blessed by the gods, he sure looks like one. Sylus is the kind of beauty that makes artists weep. One that you cannot capture within a still painting, a muse no one has the skill to recreate. So devastatingly beautiful, it aches.

“Are you applying a mask, or sculpting my face, kitten?” The deep timber of Sylus's voice breaks you out of your trance.

Looking away, you place a finger on his lips.

“Shush. It's a clay mask, you'll crack it.”

He hates when you do that. Looking away from him, avoiding his eyes— pulling away from him. Sylus doesn't understand where he went wrong. You were perfectly fine up until recently. The growing distance of your bond claws at him. Did he do something? He wants to know, needs you to tell him how he can mend whatever damage he made. He could not live shunned in your silence or knowing he hurt you in some way.

How tempting it is to give in. To want to surrender and melt in your lover's embrace. Yet still, you look away. It's something you have felt since the two of you first met, back when Sylus still gazed at you with disdain. You never understood it. Why you were consumed by the need to devour him. Something that, for some inexplicable reason, you knew bone-deep that this desire is something only he can fulfill.

Two fingers; pointer and thumb, take your chin. Sylus tilts your face toward him. An emotion you could not decipher simmering in his brilliant, scarlet eyes. His brows furrow, lips opening and closing again. He wants to ask you— the questions on the tip of his tongue ready to spill out. But he doesn't know if that will scare you away more. So he hesitates, wondering if understanding your recent behaviour is out of his reach.

“...Sy? Can I tell you something?” You ask, a little unsure. You aren't stupid, the tension is clear. You know he wants answers. And you won't let him live in doubt of your relationship.

Sylus's eyes widen a fraction. Only for a split second before masking with his usual suaveness. You want to talk, that's good.

“Of course, sweetie. What is it?”

Reaching out, you cradle the right side of his face, thumb just below his right eye. You don't miss the way he shudders, gaze following your touch. His lips tremble when you begin to stroke your thumb on his cheek. Such a sensitive man, always so attuned to your touch. Like your warmth is a hearth, like your hands are a shelter from the cold. One of his hands cup your own, making you linger on his face.

“Lately... When I look at your right eye, it feels like I want it. It's scary. I don't want to hurt you. But something in me gnaws desperately to take from you like it belongs to me.” There. The full, honest truth.

Sylus is stunned. He expected anything else. A problem with him, something to change— about himself or otherwise. Perhaps even you wanting to leave him. But no. Sweet, lovely you. What you were so worried about is a centuries-old desire of yours. A desire for him that you couldn't understand. Albeit, you don't know that, yet it still brings him relief. It seems you are the same soul he fell in love with ages ago, even if you will never remember it.

He leans closer, palms now cradling your face. “Have I not taught you to be greedy with me? If you simply wanted more of me, just say that.”

Although Sylus yearns to tell you what this truly means, he understands that you wouldn't believe him. And that's okay. He will wait however long he needs to until you come to terms with yourself or remember your past. Rest assured that you will never be alone in your journey. Sylus will help you clear the path, guide you along the way even if it may be deceitful of him. He just wants his beloved to come back home.

“Don't you understand that all I am is yours? There is nothing you could do to hurt me if I allowed it in the first place. Take whatever you want from me— take me. I am nothing if not yours to love, entirely, my beloved.”

[temis-de-leon]

Dateables realizing their feelings for reader

Characters: Diavolo, Barbatos, Solomon, and Simeon (x reader, separately)

Main Masterlist

Part 2 , Part 3 , Part 4 , Demon Brothers version

Romance Anon: Could I request headcanons for Diavolo, Barbatos, Solomon, and Simeon realising his feelings for gn reader?

A/N: I think the reason why this one took so long is that I already described part of their crush in Part 2 (originally Part 1), so this feels just like an "extra". I don't really like it and it feels very OOC and incomplete, but it's the best I could do <3

.

Diavolo

He has always been thankful for his ability to read emotions. It helps him distinguish between those who try to take advantage of his positive nature and other, more honest, people willing to open their minds to his ideas, even if they disagree. 

This gift tends to leave him drowning in isolation as if he were observing a party he wasn’t invited through a window. Would he rather live amongst lies and blissful ignorance? Would he prefer not knowing when someone has intentions of hurting him?

Those are drastic thoughts, he knows, but they roam his mind nonetheless. 

Diavolo is painfully aware of the main root of his recent ruminations; not a traitor amidst his court or a threat from far away, but, instead, something more heartbreaking: his new human friend. 

The moment his daydreamings begin to include you more and more, the dread of realization stops his heart. He’s never fallen in love, let alone with a human. What is he supposed to do?

The possibility of letting you go so both could find a better fit crosses his mind, but his unwillingness to lose you doesn’t let him entertain the idea. 

Would you fall for him as well? You, the one who treats him like a friend and not a loyal servant? The one who, after seeing the leathery wings behind his back and the ornate horns above his head, still pushes him to become what he could be? To reach what he yearns to achieve?

He’ll have you if you allow it, and he’ll wish for it if you don’t.

Barbatos

He'd like to have more time to evaluate how strong his feelings for you are, but, ironically, there's no such thing for him.

Your smile stays in his mind while he runs errands and the melody of your laugh follows him in silent moments. He writes your name instead of food while listing groceries and your voice stands out the most when everyone is reunited.

Attraction; the birth of affection.

He thinks (hopes?) those aren't stable enough to evolve into something more frightening, but how wrong he is.

In reality, Barbatos is as jealous as Mammon, but his resentment towards said demon doesn't appear until the brothers start to argue about you when you aren't around.

Is it true? Is Mammon "your first"?

Although composed as ever, there's no denying his change of heart. He feels frustrated, but not at you, and the sourness fills his mouth no matter what he eats.

When the misunderstanding is clarified, after another one of Mammon's fits and Satan's exasperation in retaliation, the sense of relief leaves him dizzy.

It is serious then, isn't it? Nothing he can escape unless wanting heartbreak.

Forcing and rushing your reciprocation is not something he feels comfortable with; what would be worth if it weren't natural?

He's willing to wait, being the patient demon he is, and while his longing grows with each passing day, enjoying the journey feels just as exciting.

Solomon

The human sorcerer falling for the other human exchange student?

It's a slow process and he doesn't notice the change until it's too late. One moment you're just acquaintances and the next he can't do anything without thinking about you.

He has a book you might like, why not go to Purgatory Hall for a quick visit?

Are you okay? Do you feel lonely? He knows the brothers can be a handful sometimes, so don't worry and talk to him whenever you need to.

He supposes it makes sense, but that doesn't make it less disheartening.

How cliche of him to develop feelings for the only person in the Devildom he will outlive.

The memories of past long-lost lovers haunt him as he ponders the idea of giving you a chance. He knows loving you would feel wonderful, but do you even like him back? Is the risk worth a chance?

Will it compensate for the pain that your eventual passing would bring?

As time passes and the potential of your powers arises, Solomon decides that he'd rather try and lose than not try at all.

Who knows? Maybe fate will trick you both and let him have you for the rest of eternity.

Simeon

From all the things Simeon thought he would learn while living in the Devildom, experiencing love was not one of them.

The feeling per se isn't foreign to him, he knows it in many forms, but what he finds in you doesn't resemble anything he's ever seen or felt before.

It fills his heart until it's bursting at the seams and, yet, he still wants more.

He daydreams a lot, captivated by your image to the point of losing awareness of his surroundings. He blushes and humms, doodling and making romantic interests for his stories according to everything he sees in you, both the good and the bad side.

Simeon has a positive mental attitude around his growing infatuation towards you, since, while the possibility of not being reciprocated is there, he knows your friendship goes beyond that.

Perhaps that is why you settled so easily in his heart: the roots of platonic love wouldn't go to rott if being rejected were the case.

This is new and exciting for him, an unknown path he's willing to explore regardless of the results.

.

.

Taglist: @ilovecandys2010  @ollieoven

[lych33dragoncookie]

Continuing on from my last post;

Right, so about that certain someone. After we see Burning Spice FUCKING MURDER SOMEONE, we get on to their rematch. And-

... Hm. Not normal. You're enjoying this a bit too much

During the fight, we get to see something interesting; Spice's own followers ditching him and Nutmeg Tiger, despite orders to go after Smoked Cheese. Not out of some sudden rush of conscience, no; but the realization that, no matter how hard they try, how closely they follow him, how much they embody everything he stands for, in the end, following him can only result in their own destruction. That they're better off escaping than dying for the sake of someone who couldn't care less what their fate is.

On top of that, we get to see one of my favorite tropes! A protagonist refuting the ideals of a "hero", admitting that they fight for reasons that on the surface could be seen as selfish and short-sighted, but that are born from a massive amount of care and emotion, loyalty, and a desire to protect what matters to them, rather than stopping a great evil, sticking to a rigid moral compass, or any sort of other pretentious ideals.

And we get to see, visibly, undeniably, just how far she's willing to go to protect that which she cares for. We get to see her closer to death than absolutely anyone else we've ever seen before, with visible damage, about to crumble into pieces. And, despite that, despite her state, she never stops fighting. Not for a second. No matter how close she is to death's door.

Alongside this, Smoked Cheese, at the end of an exhausting fight, has some words about his queen.

At the end of it all, her love is what makes her powerful. It's what will lead her to greatness, no matter what. Her bountiful nature is the gift she has to give to those around her, and what keeps her going. It's not logical, it's not rational, something which drives Smoked Cheese off the fucking wall, but even he has to admit that it doesn't have to be. That it's what got here where she is in the first place.

You'd think that this would be setup for something that happens later on, specially with the line "Sycophants, charlatans... even willful traitors... All of them have a place among her treasures. She embraced them all... with open arms.", instead of just being there so that Smoked Cheese can tell Nutmeg Tiger that her ruler sucks complete ass and his' doesn't, but... Well, we'll get to that later.

Anyways, back to the freak.

Again with this? I don't say this in an exasperated tone, I just think there's something severely wrong with him. He's just trying to get her to go feral like him for fun. Weirdo. Also, as I mentioned before, holy hell this is the most visceral it's ever gotten. We've never seen any other character this physically damaged, so close to actually crumbling. This entire arc continues to be unexpectedly brutal in every way it possibly could be, and honestly for what it's going for, it just works.

Also, I'm stuffing the below line into my pocket for later. You'll see why.

After this, Golden Cheese refutes every bit of Burning Spice's own mentality in much the same way I did the last post, and it gets under his skin. Really, really badly. To the point where he basically just ends the fight outright, more or less. ... Until Golden Cheese gets her obligatory powerup. It's cool as hell, and it works with the very same base that I mentioned earlier, of her care & love for everything she holds dear and her strong undying urge to protect it all until her last breath, an urge to protect her treasures, everyone who's filled her life with joy up to this point, and it's all strong enough to draw forth her soul jam and awaken her true power and all that other power of friendship stuff. Not anything too mind-blowing considering we've seen it before with Dark Cacao, but it certainly hits a bit harder because Golden Cheese is just a deeply lovable character who does not hesitate to wear her heart on her sleeve, a really warm presence who you want to see succeed simply because of how much her love and desire to give to others shape her every action.

As is to be expected; there is no third act breakdown from Burning Spice here. In fact, he's having the time of his life!

... And then. He. Just.

Gets hit once. And it's over.

...

Y. You. You j. HUH? HUH???

HUH??????????

WHAT. WHAT. WHAT. THE FUCK. ARE. YOU. DOING. THAT'S THE ENDING? THAT'S FUCKING IT? HE JUST GETS HIT ONCE AFTER GOLDEN CHEESE TRANSFORMS, GETS BURIED UNDER SOME RUBBLE, AND THEN YOU NOT ONLY HAVE GOLDEN CHEESE OUTRIGHT SAY THAT HE PROBABLY LIVED THAT BUT ALSO TEASE HIM BEING ALIVE AT THE END???

THAT'S IT? THAT'S THE FUCKING ENDING? THAT'S THE ENDING YOU GIVE TO WHAT WOULD HAVE OTHERWISE BEEN ONE OF OUR BEST STORIES YET?!?!??

WHAT. THE. FUCK. ARE. YOU. DOING. ARE YOU TRYING TO MAKE ME POP A BLOOD VESSEL

THIS SUCKS! THIS ACTUALLY FUCKING SUCKS! THIS IS NOTHING! THIS MEANS NOTHING! YEAH YEAH YEAH GOOD CONQUERED EVIL WHATEVER IT'S NOT ONLY A GENERIC VILLAIN DEFEAT BUT A COMPLETELY UNCEREMONIOUS ONE FOR A CHARACTER WHO IS RIDICULOUSLY WELL WRITTEN AND WHO DESERVED MORE THAN JUST GETTING ONE-SHOT AFTER A SERIES OF REALLY WELL PACED CUTSCENES.

IT WAS ALL. SO. FUCKING. GOOD. ALL THE WAY THROUGH TO THE PART WHERE HE'S LAUGHING MANIACALLY AT HIS INCOMING DEMISE. IT WAS ALL SO GOOD. WE WERE SO CLOSE. AND THEN WHAT DO YOU DO? WHAT DO YOU FUCKING DO? NOT ONLY IS HE JUST OUT LIKE THAT, WITH EVERYONE WELL AWARE HE'S NOT DEAD, YOU HAVE NUTMEG TIGER COME BACK TO HIM, MEANING NEITHER OF THEM HAVE PROGRESSED IN ANY WAY WHATSOEVER, SMOKED CHEESE'S CONVERSATION WITH NUTMEG TIGER WAS ALMOST ENTIRELY POINTLESS, AND THIS WHOLE THING WAS RENDERED UTTERLY MEANINGLESS FUCKIGIIGNFRJGH GHRHRARAHGHRHGHEEJGHJSDG

Okay. Okay. Tantrum aside.

There are so many better ways of doing this. Like. So, so much better. Ways that not only hold more narrative weight, but don't set up a half-assed villain return later on that won't hit anywhere near as hard. Because, seriously, giving Spice another arc as a villain is a horrendous idea. Both from a gameplay and story perspective. The framing here was perfect, everything had gone off really well from start to finish all the way up until that last tiny bit of the story, and you're not going to get this sort of opportunity again. They fumbled. Really. Really hard.

For one...

Hey. Golden Cheese. Remember when you said this?

JUST TAKE HIS FUCKING SOUL JAM

ALL THE BEASTS CAN DO IT WITHOUT ANY EXPLANATION, WHY CAN'T SHE?? WHY ISN'T SHE, SOMEONE WHO IS FULLY OK WITH STEALING FROM SOMEONE SO LONG AS THEY DESERVE IT, SOMEONE WHO EARLIER SAID BURNING SPICE ISN'T DESERVING OF HIS POSITION AS A GOD, SOMEONE WHO WOULD BE MORE THAN WILLING TO THROW IT INTO HER TREASURE PILE, COMPLETELY UNABLE TO TAKE IT, EVEN AFTER BEATING HIM?!?!??!

It would genuinely be that! Fucking! Easy! And guess what? Guess fucking what? IT OPENS UP SO MANY WRITING OPPORTUNITIES! SO, SO MANY! Nutmeg Tiger no longer has a god to worship, the power that gave Spice a hold over his army is now gone, he has to live out as a commoner, not a god, because he never deserved to be a god, not in the slightest. Have GC say something like "you are not a god, you're an impulsive, reckless fool. you do not deserve the power of a god. you're a commoner. nothing less, nothing more." and then take away his soul jam and you're good!!

HELL, IT COULD SET UP A GOOD, BELIEVABLE REDEMPTION ARC, "Sycophants, charlatans... even willful traitors... All of them have a place among her treasures. She embraced them all... with open arms.", IT'S SO EASY, IT HAS ACTUAL SETUP, YOU COULD HAVE SPICE BE A COMMON MORTAL COOKIE THAT HAS TO FEND FOR HIMSELF, EVENTUALLY BEING FORCED INTO A POSITION WHERE HE HAS TO FIND A ROOF TO PUT OVER HIS HEAD IF HE WANTS TO SURVIVE, AND HAVING GOLDEN CHEESE BE THE FIRST PERSON TO OFFER THAT, WHETHER OR NOT SPICE IS WILLING TO IMMEDIATELY ACCEPT IT. YOU'D HAVE A PROPER THIRD ACT BREAKDOWN WHEN HIS SOUL JAM IS TAKEN AWAY WITH SPICE BEING ACTIVELY REFUSED A WARRIOR'S DEATH, BEING GIVEN AN ANTI-CLIMAX, NOT A GLORIOUS DEFEAT BUT A LOSS OF POWER AND A REFUSAL TO END THE FIGHT ON HIS TERMS, COMPLETELY REFUSING TO STOOP TO HIS LEVEL AND FORCING HIM OUT OF A POSITION OF POWER WHILE YOU'RE AT IT

ALL THIS. ALL THESE WRITING OPPORTUNITIES. AND MORE THAT THE COMMUNITY HAS LIKELY ALREADY COME UP WITH. WASTED. COMPLETELY. NOTHING. ALL FOR A QUICK, GENERIC, BLAND, FLACCID, DEVOID-OF-IMPACT VILLAIN DEFEAT.

Ooooohhh my god I am so worked up about this. We were this close. we were this fucking close to peak fiction. We could have had it all. But they fumbled right at the end.

I... I think I'm just going to completely ignore this ending's existence. If they do anything else with Spice from this point onwards? It doesn't exist to me. I'm not looking. Because whatever they do, it won't wash away the bitter taste of the complete fumble they just pulled. In my heart, he got his soul jam taken away, had to find a way to survive on his own, and ended up living in the Golden Cheese Kingdom (out of a lack of any other options and ideas of a potential soul jam recovery from the inside that would eventually be all forgotten about) where he was given a chance to return to normalcy and heal and be free of the burden of immortality.

I'm gonna go tear a hole in a wall with my bare teeth now. See you all.

[bossbtch1]

Against All Odds

The GIF is not mine; credit goes to the respective artist/creator.

Summary : You recently joined the Avengers, and everyone has accepted you except for Bucky. Now, the challenge lies in proving him wrong, but can you succeed changing his mind and earn his trust? Or do you have to do more to earn it? (geez, I’m suck at this)

Pairing : Bucky Barnes x Reader (No mentions of body type or ethnicity other than the reader being female)

TW: SMUT, 18+, strong language, enemies-to-lovers-ish, oral (m receiving), rough sex, dirty talk, unprotected sex, degradation (slut calling), slight choking, orgasm denial

Word Count: Around 10k (I know it's a bit long, I got carried away. Sorry) → smut is like 4k hehe

Author's Note: This is my first attempt at writing a story, and it’s a smut one at that. English isn't my first language, so apologies for any mistakes or bad grammar. I hope you still enjoy the story!

Part 1, Part 2 , Part 3

If you like my story, please go check out my other stories here

These are the aesthetic for part 1 (solely for visual representation of what going to happen on the story, this meant no representation for body type or ethnicity)

You've always been a dependable agent ever since you were young, someone who could handle the toughest missions without letting your emotions get in the way. Nick Fury spotted your potential when you were just a kid, taking you under his wing. It was his belief in you that kept you going, and it all led to the thrilling moment when he thought it was time for you to join the Avengers. After all those years of hard work, it felt like a dream come true.

Then came your first day with the team. You'd just joined, and they wanted to see how good you were in a fight. You almost beat Natasha in a really intense battle, proving to everyone that you totally belonged with the Avengers. Your determination to show your worth never wavered. But there was this one guy, Bucky Barnes, who just couldn't seem to trust you no matter what.

On your first day with the Avengers, the training room buzzed with anticipation as you faced off against Natasha Romanoff, Black Widow. It was a test of your combat skills, a way to see if you had what it took to be part of Earth's mightiest heroes. The desire to become one of them, although it might sound cliché and cringey, burned within you.

The Avengers, including Nick Fury, Captain America, Iron Man, Winter Soldier, Hawkeye and Thor, watched from up above, all curious and eager to see how you'd do. Their faces showed they were rooting for you.

However, as you glanced upward to catch your breath, your eyes locked onto Bucky Barnes. He stood there, solitary and stern, arms crossed over his chest. His intense gaze bore into you, but unlike the other Avengers, his expression was far from encouraging. There was a deep skepticism in his eyes, a doubt that seemed unshakable, and it cast a shadow over your determination to prove yourself to the team.

Natasha, dressed in her familiar black outfit, gave you a serious look that made you stop staring up. When she spoke, you turned your attention to her. "Think you've got this, newbie?" she teased, a touch of amusement in her voice.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves. This was your moment to prove yourself, and there was no turning back. The weight of your new Avengers uniform felt both exhilarating and nerve-wracking. "I'm ready, Natasha.", you responded with determination. You weren't going to back down now.

Natasha grinned. "We'll see about that."

The two of you circled each other, and then, without warning, Natasha lunged at you with lightning speed. Her attack was quick and precise, but you were able to block it, thanks to your training. As the two of you sparred, the crowd cheered and shouted their support. It was a battle of wits and willpower, and neither of you was willing to give up.

"You're good," Natasha admitted, her voice dripping with genuine admiration. "But let's see how you handle this." With a fluid motion, she unleashed a series of acrobatic moves, flipping and twisting through the air before landing gracefully behind you.

You spun around to face her, sweat beading on your forehead. "Impressive, but I'm not done yet."

The fight continued, and you pushed yourself to keep up with Natasha's relentless assault. Your training and instincts kicked in, and you began to hold your own. It was a back-and-forth battle, each of you landing hits and dodging the other's attacks.

But Natasha was more experienced than you, and eventually, she managed to overpower you. She had you pinned to the ground, her face inches away from yours. You struggled against her grip, but she held you firmly in place. "Had enough?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

Gritting your teeth, you mustered all the determination you had left. "Not a chance," you replied, refusing to admit defeat.

The crowd went wild as Natasha delivered the final blow, knocking you out. She stood there, victorious, a small smile playing on her lips acknowledging your impressive performance. "Good fight," she said, extending a hand to help you up.

You accepted her hand, "Thanks, Natasha. You're incredible."

The room erupted in applause, and everyone from the observation deck descended to congratulate you. Fury, wearing a proud smile, gave you a warm hug. "Well done, Y/N. You're officially part of the team," he declared, his words filled with pride. He whispered, "I'm proud of you, Y/N," and it meant the world to you.

But amid the celebration with your new teammates, there was one person who didn't seem as thrilled. James "Bucky" Barnes, the Winter Soldier, stood in a quiet corner of the room, his expression inscrutable.

You had felt his presence throughout the entire match, his intense gaze sending shivers down your spine. Bucky's gaze lingered on you for a moment longer, then he turned and left the room, leaving you feeling more confused than ever.

Bucky went out of his way to undermine your confidence, pushing you to the brink of quitting time and time again. His words still fresh in your mind. "I don't think you're cut out for this, kid. This isn't a game. It's a matter of life and death. You’re not ready for this."

It hurt. You didn't understand why he was so determined to bring you down. What had you done to make him dislike you so much? Despite Bucky's relentless doubts, you refused to back down. You were determined to earn his respect, just as you had with the rest of the team.

So, every day, you trained harder, pushed yourself further, and proved your worth on every mission. Your hope was that one day, Bucky would finally see you for the capable agent you truly were and put his doubts to rest once and for all.

One day, as you were making your way to the gym, the sound of voices caught your attention. It was Bucky and Steve, engaged in a hushed conversation that seemed to revolve around you. Curiosity piqued, you tried to maintain a discreet distance, keen on hearing what they were saying. You knew it was wrong to eavesdrop, but you couldn't help yourself.

"Buck, I think you're being too hard on her. She's a good fighter and she's eager to learn," Steve argued.

Bucky's skepticism remained unshaken. "I'm just trying to watch out for the team. She's a liability, not ready for this kind of responsibility."

Steve being the optimist pushed back gently, his support for you evident in his tone. "I think you're the only one who feels that way."

Bucky's voice grew firmer as he explained his perspective. "She's only here 'cause Nick Fury vouched for her. There are others who deserve this chance more. I could name a couple who'd fit better on this team than her."

His words hit you like a punch to the gut, casting doubt on your worthiness. It was difficult to hear that the person you looked up to and wanted to prove yourself to was actually against you, even though Bucky's argument was valid.

You couldn't help but question if your acceptance into the Avengers was indeed solely because of Fury. You had always believed that your spot on the Avengers was earned through your skills and dedication. Bucky's doubts made you second-guess if you had truly earned your place.

"Buck, there's more to it than that," Steve replied, his voice steady. "Just be patient with her."

Unable to endure the conversation any longer, your heart felt heavy as you turned away, doing your best to conceal the hurt that washed over your face. With resolve, you changed your course and headed towards the field track, hoping a run would help clear your mind.

Later, as the sun set on the horizon, you were still out running laps. Your thoughts were racing, and your body was aching, but you couldn't bring yourself to stop.

"You're gonna wear yourself out if you keep pushing like that."

You jumped, startled by the sudden voice. Looking over your shoulder, you saw Bucky standing a few feet away, his arms crossed.

Caught off guard, you tried to put on a brave face. "I'm okay," you lied, attempting to hide the pain that was clearly etched on your face. Stopping abruptly had caused your feet to throb with discomfort.

Bucky, however, wasn't buying your façade. He narrowed his eyes, his concern deepening. "You're not. You're hurt."

In response, you shook your head stubbornly, your pride urging you to push through the pain. "I'll manage," you insisted, even though every step sent a sharp twinge through your feet.

Bucky's gaze remained sharp and unwavering. "You're not fooling anyone with that."

Deep down, you knew he was right. The pain was becoming harder to ignore, and your stubbornness could only take you so far. But in that moment, you weren't quite ready to admit defeat or show weakness, especially not to someone like Bucky.

Bucky took a step closer, his expression resolute. "Come on, we're heading inside," he stated, his tone leaving no room for argument.

“I'm okay, I can-." You began to protest, but he interrupted you firmly, "Y/N, enough. This is an order. You're only making my job more difficult by trying to tough it out. Let's go, and I don't want to hear another word from you."

Reluctantly, you fell silent and went along with Bucky, allowing him to guide you back to the facility. As you walked, you couldn't help but mull over his earlier words, "You're making my job harder by trying to tough it out." It left you wondering why he cared or felt responsible for you, especially when you believed he disliked you.

Once inside, Bucky seated you and fetched a glass of water. Taking a sip, you felt a wave of relief as it helped ease some of your fatigue. Then, without uttering a word, Bucky briefly stepped away, returning in less than a minute with bandages and medicine in hand.

Your curiosity got the best of you, and you couldn't resist asking, "What's all that for?" Your eyes were drawn to the medical supplies.

"Take off your shoes and socks," Bucky directed, his tone brooking no dissent.

"I don't think I need..." You began to protest, but a quick glance at Bucky's determined face made it clear that there was no room for discussion.

Letting out a sigh, you gave in and removed your shoes and socks. What you saw shocked you: your feet were in a terrible state, bleeding and covered with painful blisters, a clear result of your overly enthusiastic run.

You heard Bucky mutter a curse under his breath as he knelt down in front of you. "Bucky, seriously, I can handle it," you tried to protest, but he wasn't having any of it.

"Just stay put and let me take care of this." His voice was firm, and he got to work tending to your battered feet. Gently, he placed your feet on his lap, starting to clean the cuts on your soles. You winced slightly as the sting of the alcohol met the open wounds.

While he busied himself tending to your injuries, you found your gaze drifting to him. Bucky was undeniably handsome and hot, you couldn't help but appreciate his appearance. As your eyes met his, he suddenly looked up at you.

"Got something on your mind?" he asked, his expression as enigmatic as ever.

You blinked, realizing that you'd been staring. Heat crept into your cheeks as you stammered, "I, uh, have an issue with my shoes." You finally managed to say, though it wasn't exactly the eloquent response you'd hoped for.

Bucky, his expression unamused, retorted, "Well, that's clear." After he finished bandaging your wounds, he added, "But there's more to it than just your shoes."

"You can't be out here, pushing yourself so hard if you're going to injure yourself. This isn't a game. You must take care of yourself. You can't expect to get the full experience if you're going to hurt yourself." His words were harsh, but they were true.

"I know," you admitted with a sigh, guilt gnawing at you. "I just got caught up and lost track of time. It's not that bad."

Bucky raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "Not that bad?" He challenged you. "Then stand up. Let's see how not that bad it really is."

Your cheeks burned. You could already feel the ache in your legs and the throbbing pain in your feet. But you refused to show any weakness. Not now. Not in front of him.

"Fine." With a determined look, you pushed yourself up from the chair, wincing as you put weight on your injured soles. Your feet stung, and your muscles were sore, but you gritted your teeth and pushed through it.

Bucky couldn't help but scoff, clearly frustrated with your stubbornness and tendency to challenge him.  "You want to be part of this team, right?"

You nodded, your determination unwavering despite the discomfort. "Yeah, I do.”

"Then you need to stop being reckless and start acting like an Avenger. We can't afford to have someone on our team who's too stubborn to admit when they're injured. It's only gonna make things worse." he said firmly, taking a step closer to you. "Maybe you could start by, I don't know, following orders and not talking back every chance you get."

The harshness in his words took you by surprise, but they also cut deep. Because you knew he was right.

With that he left the room, leaving you behind to wallow in shame. You knew he was right. But it hurt, especially coming from him.

Weeks later, you received the news that you'd be joining the team on your very first mission. The excitement bubbled up inside you as you geared up for the assignment. But as the mission unfolded, things took a turn for the worse.

You spotted a group of enemies heading for a crowded area and impulsively decided to engage them without waiting for the team's signal or support. Your intentions were to protect the civilians, but your recklessness got the best of you. Your impulsive move led to a chaotic firefight, and in the midst of the chaos, a civilian stumbled into the line of fire, narrowly escaping harm.

Bucky, who had been keeping an eye on you, witnessed the entire sequence of events unfold. His anger and frustration boiled over as he watched you put not only yourself but also innocent bystanders in danger.

Inside the quinjet, as the mission concluded, he couldn't contain his fury any longer. "What the fuck was that, Y/N?!" he erupted, his voice echoing in the confined space.

"I'm sorry," you whispered, feeling an overwhelming sense of shame and regret.

"Sorry isn't good enough!" Bucky snapped, his intense gaze burning into you. You couldn't bear to meet his eyes, and instead, you cast your gaze downward, your hands trembling with the weight of your mistake.

"If you're gonna keep making mistakes like that, then maybe you don't belong on this team. You could've gotten someone killed back there." His words stung, but he was right.

Natasha stepped in to defend you, "Bucky, it was an accident, and it was her first mission. Everyone makes mistake.”

Bucky didn't back down. "Yeah, and accidents can cost lives, Nat. She need to be more careful," he retorted, glaring back at you. "You can't afford to be an idiot like that out there. What the fuck is wrong with you?" He yelled, his anger getting the best of him.

Clint said, "Hey! Enough. She's done enough of a beating already, I know she can do better next time."

"There might not be a next time," Bucky grumbled.

Confusion and worry welled up inside you. 'What do you mean by that?' you wondered silently, unable to find your voice.

Bucky's frustration boiled over as he remarked, "Maybe she should think twice about putting others at risk if she can't handle it."

You turned your gaze away, determined not to let the tears fall. Tony took charge of the situation, his voice steady and reassuring. "Alright, that's enough," Tony declared firmly. "We're all on edge right now after what happened. We all know she can do better, and we'll address it later. For now, let's just concentrate on getting back home."

The rest of the ride was filled with tension, Bucky's glare never leaving you as you tried your best to avoid his gaze.

Wanda noticed your discomfort and moved over to sit next to you. She placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder and asked gently, "How are you holding up?"

You appreciated Wanda's concern and gave her a small, grateful smile. "I'll be okay," you replied softly. "Just need some time to process everything. I guess I'm just a little overwhelmed."

Wanda patted your shoulder again, offering more comfort. "Mistakes are part of learning, especially on your first mission. Remember, the key is to learn from them and get better. Don't let Bucky's words get to you too much."

You let out a weary sigh, realizing the truth in her words. "Yeah, I know.”

The quinjet touched down on the landing pad, and a sense of relief washed over you as you realized you were finally back home. This was it. You were finally home. "We'll talk later, okay?" Wanda asked, giving you a sympathetic smile.

You nodded appreciatively at her and quickly made your way to your room. You wanted nothing more than to lock yourself away and forget the whole thing ever happened. But the guilt and shame were too much to bear.

About a month after the incident, news of another mission started to circulate rapidly around the Avengers' headquarters. The buzz of excitement and anticipation filled the air, and you couldn't help but feel a rush of emotions—both excitement and anxiety. This mission was your chance to redeem yourself after the missteps on your first assignment.

Determined to discuss your readiness for this new mission, you sought out Steve. As you approached his office, you noticed him engrossed in reading some files. You gently knocked on the open door.

"Hi Steve, may I come in?" you asked politely.

Steve looked up from the files and offered you a welcoming smile. He promptly closed the documents and gestured for you to enter. "Of course, come in Y/N." You stepped into his office, and he continued, "How are you doing, by the way?" Steve motioned for you to take a seat, showing genuine concern.

You settled into the chair across from him and fidgeted with your fingers, trying to find the right words. "I'm good, better than what happened last time..." You paused, your voice tinged with regret. "I'm sorry about last time..."

Steve's warm smile remained reassuring. "Hey, Y/N, that's okay. We all make mistakes," he said with a reassuring tone, "Don't beat yourself up too much about it, okay?" His kindness and understanding were a comfort, making you feel grateful for his leadership and support.

"So, what brings you here?" Steve asked with a welcoming smile.

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat. "I heard there's another mission in 2 days..." After a pause, you continued, "But I haven't received the assignment or briefing for it..."

Steve's friendly expression faltered, and he sighed. "Y/N, about that..." He looked genuinely conflicted. "We already have teams assigned to cover that mission. You don't need to worry about it."

Your heart sank, and you couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment. It was becoming increasingly clear that you were being sidelined. "Is this because of what happened on the last mission?" You finally voiced your concern, your tone a mix of frustration and hurt.

Steve must've noticed the change in your tone. "Y/N, there'll be plenty of missions, and you'll definitely join the next one, okay?"

You took a deep breath and forced a smile, masking the pain that was gnawing at you. "Ah, okay, Steve." You chuckled, though it felt forced. "That's alright, I was just curious.”

Steve smiled weakly, but you could tell he understood your disappointment. "Y/N..."

You got up from the seat, disappointment heavy in your chest. You knew this was likely Bucky's doing. "Thank you, Captain, for the information. Good luck on the mission!" With that, you turned and left the room, trying to hide your frustration and disappointment.

As everyone prepared to leave for the mission, they bid you farewell, their expressions filled with sympathy. You knew they felt sorry for leaving you behind in the tower. Watching them depart filled you with a profound sense of sadness, knowing you couldn't join them.

You returned to your room, aimlessly flipping through the channels on the TV, but nothing captured your interest. Your mind kept wandering back to the missed opportunity, and the guilt and frustration gnawed at you.

After a futile attempt at watching TV, you tried to occupy yourself with a book, but the words on the pages blurred together as your thoughts remained fixated on the mission. With a sigh, you put the book down, realizing you were too distracted to read.

Restlessly, you paced around your room, contemplating various ways to improve your skills and prove that you were a valuable member of the team. Maybe you could spend some time in the training room or review combat strategies. You knew you had to keep pushing yourself to become better.

Eventually, you settled on the idea of practicing your marksmanship in the training room. Grabbing your gear, you headed there with determination in your step, determined to make the most of your time while the team was away on the mission.

Inside the gym, you started with some intense punching and kicking exercises. It felt great to release your anger, sadness, and disappointment through physical exertion. As you pummeled the sandbag, you couldn't help but imagine it as Bucky's face, channeling your frustration and resentment into each punch and kick. You unleashed your emotions on the inanimate object, giving it your all to cope with the overwhelming mix of feelings inside you.

Sweat dripped down your face, mixing with the occasional tear, but you didn't let up. You wiped away the sweat and tears from your face. "What" punch "Do" punch "I" kick "Have" punch "To" kick "Do" punch "To" punch "Prove" punch "To" punch "You" kick "That" kick "I'm" punch "Just" kick "As" kick "Good" kick "As" punch "Them" punch kick punch kick.

Why were you treated this way? What had you done to earn Bucky's disdain? How could you prove your worth to him? Frustration boiled inside you, reaching its peak as you let out a guttural scream, causing the sandbag to plummet from the force of your final blow.

Panting, you collapsed on the gym floor, you were exhausted and emotionally drained, but you felt a strange sense of relief. You clenched and unclenching your fists. You flexed your fingers and winced as the pain shot through them.

You chose to ignore the pain and you slowly got up from the gym floor. You knew you had pushed yourself too hard, but it was the only way you could vent your frustration and anger.

Limping, you made your way towards the bench where you had left your belongings. The room felt heavy with the echo of your pounding. Your trembling hand found the familiar coolness of your water bottle, and you clutched it tightly, taking a long, refreshing gulp. The cool liquid soothed your parched throat.

Just as you were catching your breath, Bucky unexpectedly strolled into the room. His presence surprised you, you hadn't expected anyone else to be there, especially not him.

His gaze, sharp and perceptive, honed in on your movements, "Still trying to prove yourself, huh?" he remarked, his words hanging in the air like a challenge, his tone laced with doubt.

You met his gaze defiantly, refusing to back down even in the face of his skepticism. "I don't need to prove anything to anyone, including you," you replied, your voice steady despite the ache in your body. "I'm just making sure I'm ready for whatever comes our way. Maybe you should worry less about what I'm doing and more about why you're not on the mission with the rest of the team."

Bucky's expression remained inscrutable, his indifference a stark contrast to your determination. He nonchalantly shrugged, an aloof response to your pointed words.

Letting out an exasperated sigh, you couldn't help but roll your eyes, your frustration with him boiling over. "Whatever, Barnes. Keep your doubts to yourself."

You began packing up your belongings, a clear signal that you were ready to depart from his presence. You suspected he was still watching you, his intense gaze never wavering, but you wanted nothing more than to distance yourself from him. It felt like he was deliberately keeping you from the mission, and the resentment simmered within you.

After finishing packing, you headed towards the exit, but Bucky halted you by grabbing your hand. You turned around, irritation clear in your eyes. "What do you want, Barnes?" you snapped, trying to pull your hand away. “What the hell? Let me go!”

Ignoring your protest, he led you back to the training area, placing you in front of him. An uneasy feeling settled in your stomach. Did he intend to spar with you? The uncertainty hung heavily in the air, making the atmosphere tense.

You stood your ground, your nervousness growing with every passing second. "What? Scared?" Bucky teased, a mocking smirk playing on his lips.

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes, refusing to let his taunts unnerve you. You managed a fake smile and replied, "Of you? No. Why would I be?" Determined not to show any fear.

Bucky's smirk widened as he said, "Well, you should be." He locked eyes with you and asked, "Ready?" The challenge in his tone was clear.

You took another deep breath, squared your shoulders, and met his gaze head-on. "Alright, Bucky. I'm game. What's the plan?" Your voice remained steady, even as your nerves continued to buzz beneath the surface.

Bucky's lips curved into a smirk. He motioned towards the training mats, his movements smooth and practiced. "Just try to land a hit on me."

Without a moment's warning, he lunged at you, his attack swift and precise. You barely managed to block it in time, the impact sending a jolt through your arms.

Taking a moment to catch your breath, you felt a sting to your pride. "Just one hit?" you questioned, a mixture of disbelief and defiance in your voice. Did he genuinely doubt your abilities? Determination flared in your eyes as you prepared to prove him wrong.

He chuckled, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Don't get ahead of yourself, doll. Come on, you're starting to bore me." You gritted your teeth and launched into your counterattack.

The atmosphere in the training room grew tense as you continued your attempts to land a hit on Bucky. Each time you launched an attack, he seemed to anticipate your every move, effortlessly blocking your punches and kicks. It was as if he had an innate ability to read your intentions, and it left you feeling frustrated and somewhat helpless.

With each failed attempt, Bucky's smirk grew wider, and he let out a low chuckle. "Come on, Y/N," he taunted, his tone dripping with playful mockery. "You've got to do better than that if you want to stand a chance."

His words stung, and they fueled your determination. You were well aware that Bucky was pushing your buttons, trying to rile you up, but you refused to let it show. You had a point to prove, not only to him but to yourself as well.

You decided to take another shot, launching into a new round of attacks, hoping to catch Bucky off guard. But just like before, he expertly caught your wrist each time, preventing your strikes from connecting. Frustration gnawed at you, and you let out an audible groan each time he effortlessly pinned your arms behind your back and pushed you back.

Bucky didn't hold back with his taunts either. "Is that the best you've got, doll?" he prodded, his gaze locked onto yours. "I've seen other recruits do better. What happened to all those praises they were singing about you?"

Taking a deep breath, you tried to surprise him with a sudden kick, but Bucky saw through your move. He even managed to catch your legs mid-kick, causing you to lose your balance and tumble to the ground.

His voice dripped with mock disappointment as he quipped, "Doll, I expected better than that. That was just plain bad."

You took a deep breath, frustration fueling your determination. This time, you decided to go all out. You lunged at him with full force, no holding back, hoping to land a solid hit. His dodge and blocks were frustratingly precise, but you didn't give in.

Finally, you managed to back him into a wall, and you saw an opening. You went for a powerful kick, but he swiftly caught your leg, pulling it towards him. Before you knew it, you were pinned against the wall, your front pressed firmly against the hard surface.

"Doll, nice try," Bucky said, his tone edged with approval, "but you've still got long ways to go."

You groaned as he pinned you to the wall, frustrated since you couldn't beat him. "Fuck!"

He chuckled lowly, and you could feel the heat radiating off his body, his face mere inches from yours. "Language, sweetheart."

The feeling of his body pressed against yours sent tingles down your spine, and you tried to keep your breathing under control, your cheeks flushing.

Bucky seemed to notice your blush and couldn't resist a teasing remark. He leaned in even closer, his voice dripping with playful mischief. “What's the matter, doll? Is it too hot in here?" he teased, pressing himself closer to you.

Your blush deepened as he teased you, and you turned your head away from him, not able to meet his gaze. "You know what? You're seriously annoying."

Bucky's smile only grew wider, and he didn't let up. "Aw, come on, doll. Getting all worked up because you can't keep up?" he goaded, his warm breath tickling your neck. His face was even closer now, his eyes dark with a look you'd never seen before.

You huffed in exasperation, determined not to let his teasing get the best of you. "I can keep up just fine, thank you very much," you shot back, your competitive spirit coming to the forefront.

Bucky chuckled, the sound low and deep, sending a delightful shiver down your spine. "Well then," he challenged, his tone inviting. "Prove it. Try to break free from my hold."

Your breath caught in your throat at the suggestion, a rush of adrenaline surging through your veins. "Okay," you agreed, your tone confident. You decided to take Bucky's challenge head-on.

With a swift and calculated move, you attempted to break free from his hold, using all the skills you had acquired during your training with the Avengers. Bucky, ever the skilled fighter, didn't make it easy, but you were determined not to give in.

You tried and tried, but you couldn't seem to break free from his strong hold. You were both sweating, the effort causing the air around you to grow thicker and heavier. You could feel his chest pressed against your body, muscles flexing as he maintained the firm grip he had on you.

Finally, after what felt like hours, you were both breathing heavily, neither of you willing to give in. In that moment, with your bodies pressed together and the heat between you almost unbearable, something changed. You felt his hold on you loosen slightly, and you took the opportunity to spin around, pinning him to the wall.

A surprised chuckle escaped his lips, clearly caught off guard by your sudden move. His eyes, filled with desire, locked onto yours, and the tension between you seemed to reach a boiling point.

You couldn't help but smirk as you managed to gain the upper hand, "Huh, I wi-" But before you could finish, he swiftly turned the tables, pinning you back against the wall.

He chuckled, his voice low and husky. "Not quite, doll." He leaned in close, his breath hot against your ear. "Never let your guard down until you know your opponent is truly defeated," he whispered, his voice low.

You gasped, feeling the cool metal of his arm pressing against your skin. "You were saying?" he murmured, his voice low and husky. He leaned in close, his breath hot against your ear.

You bit your lip, feeling the tension between you reach a fever pitch. He leaned in close, his breath hot against your ear. "Never let your guard down until you know your opponent is truly defeated," he whispered, the words sending a shiver down your spine.

Your frustration bubbled up, and you couldn't help but shake your head in response. "That's not fair!" you protested, your voice tinged with exasperation. "I managed to break free from your hold. Doesn't that count for something?"

He chuckled, "Not it doesn't. You've still got a lot to learn. I could've easily gotten the upper hand on you again. The moment you let your guard down is the moment you lose the fight."

You clenched your jaw and stared into his blue eyes, not backing down from his challenge. "Okay enough with the taunting. I'm not afraid of you, Barnes."

His lips were so close, you could feel his breath against your skin. "You should be, doll," he murmured, his voice low and husky, sending a delicious shiver down your spine.

A moment passed between the two of you, and then, as if a dam had broken, he kissed you hard, it made you surprised, you gasped on his mouth and felt his tongue exploring you.

Your heart was pounding, the excitement building as you kissed him back. You tangled your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer as the heat between you grew.

"God, Y/N," he groaned against your mouth. His metal hand reached for your thighs, lifting you up effortlessly, wrapping your legs around his waist. He pressed you harder against the wall, his hips grinding against yours. You moaned at the friction, feeling your body responding to his touch.

The training room was forgotten as the two of you gave in to your desires, the heat between you driving you both wild. You knew it was a bad idea, but in that moment, you didn't care. All that mattered was the pleasure, the heat, the intensity of it all.

"Bucky..." You panted, feeling his lips and teeth exploring your neck, his tongue licking you, tasting you.

The sound of his name on your lips sent him over the edge, and he couldn't hold back anymore. His hands found their way under your yoga pants, gripping your ass. He bit down on your lip, drawing a small moan from you. You could feel him smile into the kiss.

"Fuck, doll. You like this? Me fucking you against the wall?" he groaned against your mouth.

You nodded, unable to form any coherent words. “Tell me, do you want more?"

"Yes," you breathed, your body trembling with need.

"Tell me," he ordered, his voice husky with desire.

"I want you, Bucky…. please."

"Beg for it," he growled, his hands moving to the front of your yoga pants. He tugged them down, the cold air hitting your wet core, his hand quickly finding its way between your thighs. You arched into his touch, desperate for more.

"Fuck, doll," he muttered, his fingers slipping into your panties, finding your wetness. "So fucking wet for me.” His fingers slid inside you, making you gasp, your hips bucking against him. "Is this what you want, doll?"

"Yes!" you cried out, your hands grasping at his shirt, trying to pull him closer. "Please," you moaned, your hips bucking against his.

He pumped his fingers in and out of you, his thumb rubbing circles around your clit, making you writhe and moan beneath him. "Such a good girl," he murmured, his free hand coming up to grip your breast. He groped you hard, squeezing and massaging you through your sports bra.

"Put your hands up," he commanded, pulling his fingers out of you. You complied, your hands reaching above your head. He pulled up your bra, exposing your breasts to him.

"Such a pretty little thing," he whispered, his breath hot against your ear. He took one of your nipples into his mouth, his tongue flicking over the sensitive bud. You moaned, your hips bucking against him as he sucked and nibbled on your breasts.

"So responsive," he chuckled, his hand reaching between your legs once again, his fingers dipping into your wetness. "Such a wet little girl. You're dripping for me."

"You like this?" He growled, his fingers rubbing your clit, his thumb sliding up and down your slick folds. He chuckled, the sound sending shivers down your spine, "Tell me were you already wet when we started sparring? Did you want me to pin you against the wall? To fuck you hard?"

You couldn't respond, the pleasure was too much. You were teetering on the edge, ready to fall over at any moment. "Please, Bucky..." you gasped, your hips grinding against his hand, desperately seeking release.

"You're a naughty girl, aren't you? You want me to fuck you, right here, in the training room, where anyone could walk in and see us?"

He was right, you didn't even think of that possibility. You shook your head, "No.. of course not... it's just the heat of the moment... It's just... we're alone right now."

"You sure about that, doll? Cause I'm pretty sure I heard someone walk by a few minutes ago. What if it was Clint? Or worse, what if it was Fury? I bet he would love to see this. His little protégé, getting fucked by the Winter Soldier."

You froze, your eyes wide.

"You know what?" He chuckled, "Let's put on a show for them. Let them watch. Let them see how you beg and scream for me."

“Cat’s got your tongue doll? Where are all the firey comebacks now? Nothing to say?” Your mind was in a state of shock. You tried to think, who was it? But Bucky was stroking you at a relentless pace, his thumb rubbing circles on your clit.  

"You want me to make you cum, doll? To make you scream my name?"

"Yes," you panted, you didn’t care anymore, all you wanted was release. Your body trembling as he drove you closer to the edge.

He reached up, gripping your chin, his eyes locking onto yours. "I've wanted to fuck your attitude out of you ever since you came to the compound, doll,” he said, his voice husky with lust. "Watching you fight, all that fire, all that passion, it makes me so fucking hard. You have no idea how many times I've wanted to take you right here, to show you who's in control."

You couldn't take it anymore, the pleasure building, "I'm so close... Bucky," you moaned. You were so close, and he was taking you to new heights. You couldn't stop yourself, you could feel yourself losing control.

"Yeah I can tell, you're tightening around my fingers. Are you going to be a good girl and cum for me? Beg for it, and maybe I'll let you," he teased, his fingers still pumping in and out of you, faster and faster, sending you over the edge.

"Please, Bucky..." you cried, your hips bucking against his hand.

He pulled his fingers out of you, and you whined in frustration. "What the hell, Barnes?”

"Now, now," he tsked, his fingers trailing down your stomach, and stopping at your hip. "You don't get to come until I say so, doll," he ordered, his voice low and dangerous.

"But, please, I'm so close," you begged, the frustration almost unbearable.

"I know, but you need to learn who's in charge, and it's not you," he said, his fingers tracing circles around your clit, making you moan. "You have to obey my orders, Y/N."

"What the fuck, Barnes!" You screamed at him feeling angry at how he toyed with you. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

He grabbed your hair and pulled it down making you winched in pain, "What did you fucking say to me?" He grabbed it harder when you didn’t answer him.

"Ouch." You winced in pain.

Bucky's eyes darkened and he tightened his grip. “First, you need to watch that mouth of yours." He was breathing heavily, his voice rough and commanding. "Or I'm going to shove my dick in it and put you in your place." he warned, his hand moving to grip your hair, forcing you to look up at him.

You gulped down at his threat. There was no mistaking the promise in his voice, but your pussy clenched at the thought of taking him into your mouth.  

"Second," he continued, his grip loosening slightly. "You need to learn that you don't get to question my orders, doll. You're going to be a good girl and listen."

You stared at him, unable to speak. He was serious.

"Answer me Y/N or I will leave you here, frustrated and wanting more," He threatened.

You could feel the heat pooling in your belly, his dominance and authority turning you on even more.

"Yes please, I'll obey," you said, your voice shaking slightly.

"Good girl, that’s more like it," he murmured, his metal hand coming up to caress your cheek. Bucky leaned closer and kissed your lips, his tongue sliding inside your mouth. He was sucking on your tongue and nibbling on your lips, his teeth digging into the soft flesh of your mouth. He kissed your cheek and moved down to your neck.

"Now, where are we?" He asked, his fingers back on your clit, rubbing in slow, agonizing circles. He was torturing you, teasing you.

He smiled wickedly, his hand moving from your clit and slipping inside you. He pushed two fingers inside your core and began pumping them. He started moving his hand faster and faster, the sound of his fingers sliding in and out filling the air.

You wanted to scream and yell at him, but you were unable to speak, the pleasure and the need for release overwhelming. You were panting and moaning, your eyes closed shut as you were trying not to come.

"Not yet." he growled. He pushed a third fingers inside your core and began pumping them. He started moving his hand faster and faster, the sound of his fingers sliding in and out filling the air.

"Beg," he commanded, his voice firm.

"Please, please, please, Bucky," you whimpered.

"Louder," he ordered.

"Please!" you whimpered, the desire and need taking over. "Please, Bucky, fuck my pussy and let me come," you begged. You felt your inside tightening, you need to come right now.

Bucky leaned closer and kissed you again, his tongue pushing its way into your mouth, exploring every inch. He moaned into your mouth, his fingers still pumping into you, his thumb circling your clit. "No," he said, and your eyes snapped open, meeting his blue ones. He smirked, seeing that you were close. "If you come before I tell you, I will punish you, doll."

Your eyes widened and your whole body shook with fear.

"Do you understand?" He asked, his fingers slowly pumping inside you.

"Yes, yes, I understand."

He chuckled, "You're a needy little slut, aren't you? You'd beg for my cock too, wouldn't you?"

"Yes," you moaned, the word falling from your lips without a second thought. "Please, Bucky, I need to come. I need your cock inside me, fucking me hard and fast," you begged, the words tumbling from your lips.

"That's a good girl," he murmured, his fingers picking up their pace. "You're gonna cum for me now, doll. You're gonna cum all over my fingers, and then, when you've recovered, you're gonna get on your knees and suck my cock. And when I'm ready, I'm gonna fuck you, and I'm gonna make you scream my name."

You moaned loudly as his fingers brought you closer to the edge, his words sending a thrill through you.

"You'd like that wouldn't you, doll? Having my cock buried deep inside you, fucking you senseless?"

"Yes, yes, yes," you panted, the pleasure building. He added another finger and curled them inside you, hitting your g-spot, and you gasped.

"That's it, Y/N," he groaned, his fingers moving faster. "Come for me. Let me hear you."

"I... I'm gonna..." you moaned, the pleasure building in your body. You couldn't hold back any longer, the pleasure overwhelming you,

"Come now!," he ordered his fingers working even faster, and suddenly, you exploded.

"BUCKY!" You screamed, your body shaking violently as waves of pleasure washed over you. Your body was trembling, and your juices were flowing freely down his fingers

"Such a good girl," he praised, his fingers slowing, drawing out the last of your orgasm, licking them clean. “Delicious," he murmured.

You panted, your body still shaking from the intensity of the orgasm. He lowered you to the floor, your legs shaky from the intense pleasure.

Bucky chuckled, seeing the confusion on your face. "Don't worry, doll," he said, leaning down and kissing you. "We're just getting started."

"On your knees," he commanded, his voice husky with desire.

Your knees trembled and you looked up at him. His eyes were dark, his pupils dilated with lust. You could see his cock straining against the fabric of his pants. You did as you were told, dropping to your knees. You looked up at him, your eyes locking onto his.

"Open your mouth," he ordered, and you obeyed. "Suck my cock." His voice firm and authoritative

Your eyes widened and your cheeks flushed with embarrassment as you watched him slowly unzip his pants, his thick, hard cock springing free. You stared at him for a moment, taking in the sight of him. The serum must did something to him, as his member was definitely bigger than any man you'd seen before.

"Now," he ordered, his voice low and commanding. "Don't be shy," he coaxed, his eyes dark with lust.

You slowly reached up and grasped his thick shaft in your hand, feeling the hot, smooth skin, marveling at the size of him. You felt a jolt of excitement run through your body as you stroked his length, feeling him twitch in your hand. You could feel yourself growing wet as you continued to stroke his cock, his member growing even harder under your touch.

His fingers tangling in your hair  "Now, put my cock in your pretty mouth, doll," he said, his voice thick with desire.

You lowered your head and opened your mouth, wrapping your lips around the tip of his cock. You licked the tip of his cock, swirling your tongue around it, tasting his salty pre-cum. He groaned, his hips bucking as you took more of his cock into your mouth, bobbing your head up and down.

You hummed around him, the vibration making him moan. His fingers tangled in your hair, pulling at the roots as you worked your mouth up and down his shaft, his cock hitting the back of your throat.

You felt a surge of pleasure run through your body as you sucked his cock, loving the taste and feel of him in your mouth. You could feel his grip tightening on your hair as you continued to suck him, your tongue dancing along his length.

You didn't have any practice beforehand, but you are naturally gifted hearing praises, such as "Mmm, that's it.”, "Just like that.", “Fuck, you are good.” and the way his thighs trembled beside your ears were a tell-tale sign that you were doing great.

"You look so good like this," he moaned, his hand holding onto the back of your head, guiding your mouth over his cock. "I've imagined you sucking me off before."

His words made you moan around him, the vibrations sending shockwaves of pleasure through his body.

"You're taking my cock so well, like you were made for it."

You whimpered around him, his cock hitting the back of your throat once again. The feeling of his cock throbbing in your mouth, the taste of him, and the way he praised you were pushing you closer to the edge.

"God, your mouth feels so fucking good," he moaned, his hips thrusting as he fucked your mouth. "Such a good little slut, aren't you, doll?"

You felt your pussy clench at his words, your arousal growing with every stroke of his cock. You bobbed your head faster, taking him deeper into your mouth, loving the sounds of his moans.

His fingers tugged at your hair, the pain and pleasure mixing together to send another rush of pleasure through your body. You moaned around him, the sound vibrating through his cock, causing him to thrust deeper into your mouth.

You whimpered, your eyes watering as he pounded into your mouth. You could barely breathe, his thick cock stretching your throat as he fucked your mouth. Your pussy throbbed, your arousal coating your thighs as he mouth-fucked you.

"Oh yeah, you love this, don't you?" He groaned. "You love choking on my cock." As he thrust his cock into your mouth, his hands travelled to your breast, squeezing them hard, making you moan.

He groaned as you continued to suck, his grip on your hair tightening, the pain sending another wave of pleasure through your body. He was fucking your mouth ruthless, the wet slurping sounds were the only sound in the room. And the sounds he was making was almost enough to make you cum.

It became harder to breath with each stroke of his cock meeting the back of your throat, tears pricked in the corners of your eyes, the pain and pleasure mixing together.

He looked down at you, the sight of your mouth around his cock was almost enough to make him cum. He pulled out of your mouth with a loud pop, leaving you gasping for breath and tears running down your face.

"Look at you, what a mess you are," he smirked, his eyes raking over your body. "You're such a dirty girl, aren't you?"

You felt your face flush, his words making your pussy ache with need. You whimpered, the need to be filled by his cock becoming unbearable.

"Do you want me to fuck you, doll? Do you want me to fuck you so hard, you can't walk tomorrow?"

You moaned, your body trembling with anticipation. "Yes, please," you begged, your voice hoarse. "Please, fuck me, Bucky." You couldn’t think straight, you had no filter, you were just saying whatever came to mind.

He grabbed a fistful of your hair and yanked your head back. "Say it," he growled, his eyes dark and dangerous.

"Please, Bucky," you said, your voice pleading.

"Try better than that," he said, his voice firm.

"Please fuck me, Sergeant," you whimpered, your voice laced with desperation. "Please fuck me hard and fast until I can't walk. Please use me however you want."

He smiled wickedly. "Your words, not mine. Be careful for what you wish for, doll."

He shoved you onto the floor, his body looming over you. "On the floor. On all fours now," he ordered, his voice stern and commanding.

You scrambled to comply, getting onto your hands and knees. Your heart racing as he positioned himself behind you.

"Spread your legs," he said, and you complied.

He knelt behind you, his hands roaming over your body, caressing your skin. You could feel his hands on your hips, his cock rubbing against your wetness.

"Do you have any idea what I'm going to do to you, Y/N?" He whispered, his voice low and husky.

You stayed quiet waiting for him. "I'm gonna make you scream and beg for me, I'm gonna make you forget everything, except my name."

His words sent a shiver through your body, his tone full of dominance and power.

"And when I'm done with you, you'll never forget me, Y/N. You'll always remember me, remember the way I made you feel."

You could feel his hardness pressing against your entrance, teasing you, tormenting you. His hands running over your ass. "But I'm not gonna go easy on you. You understand?"

"Yes," you moaned, your voice breathy. "I understand."

"Good girl," he said, and with that, he pushed his cock inside of you, filling you completely. You cried out, your body quivering as he stretched you. "Such a tight little cunt," he groaned, his hips snapping against you, his cock buried deep inside of you. "So fucking perfect."

You cried out, the pain and pleasure mixing together.

"Fuck, you're so tight," he grunted, his hands gripping your hips tightly. He started to move, his pace slow and steady, his cock stretching you with each thrust.

"Oh god," you moaned, your voice echoing in the room.

"You like that, Y/N?" As he slammed his cock into you, his voice full of lust.

"Yes," you moaned, the sensation driving you wild.

"That's right, doll, take my cock," he growled, his fingers digging into your hips. "Take all of it." He was rough, his pace fast and unforgiving, his cock filling you to the brim with every thrust. You cried out, the pleasure and pain mingling into a sweet symphony.

You moaned, your body shaking as he fucked you. He was pounding into you, his cock hitting all the right spots. Your body was on fire, your mind lost in a haze of lust and desire. "Who's pussy is this?," He asked.

"It's yours," you gasped, your body trembling.

"Say it again," he commanded, his thrusts growing faster and harder.

"It's yours," you repeated, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Fucking right it is," he growled, his voice low and husky.

He was pounding into you, his pace relentless. The room filled with the sound of skin slapping against skin, the smell of sex hanging heavy in the air.

He yanked your hair, forcing your head back and you whimpered. He kissed you, his tongue invading your mouth. His teeth dug into your bottom lip, making you moan.

"Who's a dirty little slut?" He demanded, his hips slapping against yours.

"Me," you gasped, the pleasure threatening to overwhelm you. "I'm a dirty little slut, Bucky."

"That's right," he growled, his grip on your hair tightening. "You're my dirty little slut, and I'm gonna fucking ruin you. You’re fucking mine."

Your body trembled, your muscles tensing as his cock slammed into you. You could feel the pleasure building, the pressure mounting inside of you. You were so close, and you needed him to finish you off. "Oh god, I’m so close," you begged, your voice desperate and needy.

"Not yet," he snarled, his grip on your hair tightening. "You'll cum when I say so, and not a moment before."

"Please," you begged, the pleasure becoming almost unbearable. "Please let me cum, Bucky."

"Soon, doll," he promised, his thrusts becoming more erratic. "Very soon." He knew you almost came and he decided to torture you further when his fingers finding your clit and he pressed down hard.

You cried out, the pleasure and pain becoming too much. "Oh god," you whimpered, your body trembling. "Please, I can't take it."

He slammed his cock into you, his balls slapping against your clit. "Yes, you can," he growled. "And you will."

You whimpered, the pressure inside of you reaching a breaking point. "Bucky, please please please," you begged, the pleasure threatening to consume you.

"Now," he commanded, his voice harsh and commanding. "Cum for me, doll."

You cried out, the pleasure exploding throughout your body. Your walls clenched around his cock, your muscles spasming. Your mind went blank, the world around you fading away. Your body was shaking uncontrollably as he fucked you through your orgasm, his hips snapping against you, his cock pounding into you.

You were exhausted, your body drained of energy. He continued to fuck you, his pace slowing slightly.

He slapped your ass, the sting of his hand sending a jolt of pleasure through your body. "Such a good little slut," he growled, his hips slamming against yours. "Taking my cock so well."

"Bucky," you moaned, the pleasure building once again. "Please, I can't take anymore."

"Yes, you can," he said, his voice low and husky. He slapped your ass again, harder this time. "You're going to cum for me again, doll."

"No," you protested weakly, your body trembling with exhaustion.

“Yes," he growled, his thrusts becoming more intense. "You will." His metal hand sliding up your stomach, between your breasts, and around your throat.

Your body arched, pushing your hips further onto his cock. The sound of his ragged breaths mixed with yours as you both raced towards your climaxes. "I'm close, Y/N. So fucking close."

His hands pinched your nipples, sending another shock of pleasure through your body. He sucked on them, the sensation almost too much for you. You whimpered, his lips capturing yours again. Your tongues swirled around each other, tasting, devouring.

His cock slid in and out of you, his pace quickening. His moans and growls echoed around you as his orgasm neared. He was so close. So was you.

"Please, Bucky," you begged, your pussy clenching around his length.

He tightened his grip on your throat and slammed his hips into yours. His free hand slid down to your clit, his thumb rubbing circles over it. His eyes meeting yours. his hips slapping against yours, his cock hitting all the right spots.

"Cum with me, doll. Don't close your eyes. I want to see those pretty eyes as you come apart."

Your entire body shuddered, his command sending you over the edge. Your walls fluttered around his length, milking him of his seed. Your body trembled, your muscles spasming as you rode out the waves of ecstasy. His breath becoming ragged as his own release neared.

"Fuck," he groaned, his hips slapping against you. "Your cunt is so fucking perfect."

"God, yes," you moaned, the pleasure threatening to overwhelm you.

He slammed into you, his pace becoming erratic as he neared his release. "Oh god," he moaned, his hips snapping against yours. "I'm gonna cum."

"Yes, Bucky. Cum inside me," you whimpered, your voice barely above a whisper.

Your words were enough to send him over the edge.

He growled, his grip on your hair tightening as he pounded into you, his cock filling you completely. He groaned as he cum, his body shuddering as his release washed over him.

"That's right," he groaned, his body going limp. "Take all of it." You felt him twitch inside of you, his hot release spilling into you.

You slumped forward, your body spent as it slick with sweat and cum.  You could hear Bucky panting behind you, his chest heaving. You rested your forehead against the floor, trying to catch your breath. You had never been fucked so thoroughly in your life. Your muscles were sore and tired, your pussy throbbing.

Bucky was still inside of you, his cock softening. He pulled out, his cum spilling out of you. You could feel his cum leaking from your pussy, dripping down your thighs. "Look at that," he whispered, his voice thick with satisfaction. "Such a pretty sight." He slid a finger between your folds, collecting the sticky mess, then he pushed it back inside you. You let out a small whimper as he slowly pumped it in and out.

Bucky turned you around, your head falling back against the floor. His face hovered above yours, his blue eyes burning with lust. He looked down at you, before he could say anything, you both heard footsteps approaching.

You were panicking as someone could see you in such state, strangely, Bucky seemed unfazed, his expression steady despite the unexpected interruption. Then the next thing made your heart skipped as you heard the doorknob turning. You could only pray the ground to swallow you whole.

Hey everyone, I hope you enjoyed the story! Apologies if the ending didn't meet your expectations, I'm considering a Part 2, but I'd love to hear your thoughts. I'm open to any feedback for improvement. Your input means a lot.

If you want to see more, please show your support by leaving a like. Thank you for taking the time to read!

A/N : Thank you so much for the kind replies and support! I'm really glad you enjoy the story, you have no idea how much that motivate me to continue writing. Please stay tune for part 2! Love youuuu xx

[supernova-stardust]

Bad Idea, Right?

jegulus | explicit minors dni | complete | word count: 9,351

direct sequel to "no one has to know what we do" on ao3

James has waited for months to hear from Regulus since he gave him his number after they hooked up in the ballet studio. He hasn't been able to stop thinking about him. So when he's out with his best friend, Peter, and receives a text from an unknown number, he instantly needs to know if that number belongs to Regulus. He's had a few drinks and before he knows it, he's knocking on Regulus' door begging to go inside.

OR

James Potter is whipped.

***

Based on Bad Idea, Right? by Olivia Rodrigo

Full fic after the break or on ao3

James wasn't sure what he was thinking when Peter had asked him to go out for drinks and he had agreed. Really, he never said yes to going out, let alone to this bar—The Leaky Cauldron—full of shitty IPAs and even shittier music. But here he was, drinking an IPA that tasted more like piss than beer and watching as Peter tried his best to flirt with his third woman of the night. It wasn't that Peter was unattractive or that he was a bad guy, far from it, but he lacked tact. No matter how many times James had tried to help him or played wingman, Peter always managed to fumble his words and come off as a creep, even when James knew he really wasn't. He was still his best friend, regardless of his lack of social skills. James hoped that some day he would find someone willing to look past his nervous flirting and see him for who he really was: a kind-hearted man with very little social finesse. 

His phone vibrated in his pocket. He attempted to ignore it, preferring to stay present when he was out with his friend, but by the third vibration he said fuck it and dug into his pocket. Peter was preoccupied anyway.

Unknown: is this james? Unknown: it's been a while, so i'm not sure if this is still his number Unknown: sorry in advance if this is the wrong number, i know it's late

James quirked an eyebrow at the messages, his heart racing at the thought of who it could be. Regulus. He was the only one who James had given his number too in quite some time, and if he was honest with himself, he had nearly given up hope to ever hear from him again. Instead of texting, he decided to call the number. He needed to know for sure that it was Regulus on the other side of that unknown number.

The phone rang four times before it was finally answered, a long silence stretching out before James heard a soft "Hello?"

He immediately made his way through the crowd of people towards the back exit, needing a quiet space to speak to the man he hadn't stopped thinking about for months. "Hey, is this Regulus?"

"Depends. Is this still James' number?"

"Yeah. Yes. I've been thinking about you, baby. I had almost given up on ever hearing from you again."

More silence. James began to doubt that he had handled this well. Maybe he was more like Peter than he had realized. 

"I've been thinking about you too, Daddy. Couldn't stop thinking about you, actually."

Fuck. Maybe nothing had changed between them after all. He felt the desperation to see Regulus, to be between his pretty thighs, growing just as strong as that first day he laid eyes on him. He knew in the first moment that he had seen him that he needed to claim him. Needed nothing more than to make Regulus his.

"What took you so long then?"

Regulus hummed. It sounded to him that Regulus was milking the time in an attempt to avoid answering his question. He almost didn't expect a response at all. 

"I needed to be sure that I wanted you again and that I wasn't just dick drunk. Come over?"

James laughed. "I'd love to baby, but I'm drunk drunk."

"Take a cab. I'll text you my address."

"Regulus, I—" James heard the line go dead, Regulus determining that the conversation was over and that James would, in fact, be going over to his place. He wanted to say that he had more self control than to simply show up at Regulus' beck and call, and yet… he knew he wasn't. He knew that Regulus would text him his address and he'd immediately pull up the rideshare app on his phone, entering the address given to him. 

He slid his phone back into his pocket and headed back into the bar in search of Peter. James might have been bailing on him in favor of seeing the guy he'd been fantasizing about since their last meeting, but he'd at least have the decency to tell his best friend that he was leaving early. He looked around until he saw Peter sitting alone at the bar, nursing his drink.

"Hey," James said, sitting down in the stool next to him.

Peter looked up at his voice. "Oh, hey. Wasn't sure where you went."

"Didn't go well, I take it?"

"Nah," Peter shrugged. "She told me she had a boyfriend, but I think she just wanted me to leave her be, so I came over here to grab another drink." He took a generous sip of his beer.

James felt his phone vibrate in his pocket, but he ignored it in favor of consoling his friend. "I doubt you'll find your soulmate in a bar like this anyway, man." He caught the attention of the bartender and ordered another beer. He figured he'd need it to give him a dose of bravery, even if it tasted like piss.

"I doubt it. But a quick fuck in the bathroom would do for now, y'know?"

"Not these bathrooms," James laughed. "They're disgusting. At least up your standards to the alleyway or something."

The bartender smirked as he delivered James' drink. 

"I think I need to head home after this one," James said, raising his drink and nodding toward Peter.

James felt his phone vibrate again and he pulled it out of his pocket, glancing at the push notifications.

Unknown: you're still coming over, right? Unknown: don't ignore me daddy

Peter looked over his shoulder at his phone and laughed. "Home, huh?" He took a sip of his drink. "Who's that?"

"Look, I—"

"It's fine, man. You haven't gotten laid in months now, I think you're due. So, tell me about her."

"Not a her, first off."

"Oh, yeah? Don't let the team find out about that one. They can say all they want that they're accepting, and maybe they are individually, but you know you'd never make it pro if the rumors start in the locker room."

James took a long sip of his piss-beer. "Yeah, I know. We're just friends anyway, it's not a big deal."

They sat in borderline awkward silence for a few minutes, drinking and avoiding touching the subject that Peter had brought up. James knew that Peter didn't have a discriminatory bone in his body, but he also knew that he was right. A desperate part of him wanted to call Regulus his boyfriend and he had to wonder how that would work if he had to keep Regulus a secret. He doubted that someone who was so used to being in the spotlight would feel okay with being a secret behind closed doors.

His phone vibrated on the bar.

Unknown: [unknown sent you one image]

Peter looked down at his phone at the same moment he did and smirked. "Just a friend, huh?"

"Pete, shut the fuck up."

"C'mon, I just wanna see what your friend sent you after asking if you were still coming over."

Unknown: i hope this is tempting enough for you to tell me you're on your way

"Yeah, he's definitely just a friend." Peter laughed. "C'mon then, respond. We both know you're going over."

"I probably won't," James said. He wasn't sure if he was trying to convince Peter or himself. "I have an early class tomorrow and then practice."

"Uh huh." Peter downed the remainder of his beer and leveled him a disbelieving look.

James unlocked his phone and opened the text thread. "Fuck." He could barely breathe as he looked at the image Regulus had sent him.

It was a mirror selfie unlike any that James had ever received. Regulus was sitting on the floor in front of a floor length mirror, his back to the mirror as he looked over his shoulder. The phone blocked his face from view, but he could see his artfully tousled black curls, tempting him to thread his fingers there. He sensed that if he could see his face, Regulus' pupils would be blown wide and a blush would be dusting his cheeks. He wore nothing but a black silk robe, pooling around his hips, revealing his bare back but hiding his perfect ass and thighs from view. The pads of his feet were visible, and James could tell from their angle that his legs were parted and his ass was positioned in such a way that if he was there in person, he'd need to get a taste. Fuck.

James: yeah, i'm on my way. lemme say goodbye to my friend and grab an uber.

James saved his number in his contacts, saving him as Baby. He was sure that he was still in Regulus' phone as Daddy, and if he wasn't, he'd be changing that as of tonight.

"So," Peter said, drawing out the 'o' in the word. "Definitely a friend?"

"As far as you're concerned, yeah."

Peter laughed. "I'll see ya tomorrow then, don't show up with any marks you don't want the guys to ask about."

James pulled up the rideshare app on his phone and nodded to his friend as he entered the address Regulus had provided to him into the request. "See ya." He paid out his tab and headed outside to wait.

In the car, he tried to calm his nerves, but it proved to be nearly impossible. The driver had music that he was unfamiliar with blasting and kept yelling over it to ask him questions. He ignored them, feigning being unable to hear over the music. He looked out the window to watch the city pass by rather than attempt to have polite conversation. He felt his phone vibrate in his pocket again and dug into his jeans to check the notification. He smiled when he opened the text to see Regulus checking in with him again. After two months of not speaking to each other at all, he felt his stomach flutter at the thought of Regulus being just as anxious to see him. 

Baby: eta?

He decided not to reply to the text. According to the GPS, he was only a few minutes away, and a small part of him wanted to make Regulus feel just a little anxious about not hearing from him. After all, Regulus had taken James' number when they saw each other those months ago and hadn't reached out until now. The least he could do was be patient for a few minutes. James had been patient for months. Regulus should be grateful that James wasn't making him wait to see him on his terms. Or at least, that's what he tried to convince himself. He knew deep down that the moment Regulus had texted him it was all over. James would trip over himself time and time again just for a taste of whatever Regulus gave him.

When the car stopped in front of an apartment building, James hopped out and made his way up the steps to a locked door. He pressed the button that corresponded to the apartment number Regulus had texted him, a loud buzz ringing out around him, and let out a breath he hadn't realized he had been holding. The door let out a quiet hum and he heard the lock click, indicating that he had been granted entrance. He couldn't help but wonder if Regulus was just as nervous as he was right now—waiting in his apartment at the door, peering out the peephole to see when James would arrive. He hoped that he was.

He finally arrived at the door labeled with the number Regulus had given him and as he lifted his hand to knock, the door flew open. Regulus stood there, draped in the black silk bathrobe that he had been wearing in the photo, looking like a fucking dream. Suddenly, all thoughts of irritation at not being texted sooner vanished. All that mattered was the man in front of him, draped in silk, but as James raked his eyes up those lean legs and the curves of his body, he noticed that Regulus was wearing an irritated scowl.

"Why didn't you text me back?" Regulus snapped, crossing his arms and blocking the entrance to his apartment by leaning against the frame of the doorway.

"I—" James was confused. He had never seen Regulus this cold and dismissive before. Why would him not texting Regulus trigger such a strong response like this? Especially when it had been months since James had heard from him.

"I know you saw the text. Your read receipts are on. So. Why didn't you text me back?"

"I was almost here. Can I come in? I'd rather not do this in the hallway."

"I'm not sure I want you to."

"Baby, come on."

"No." 

The door slammed in his face. Usually, having a door slammed in his face would discourage him, and if it was only about the sex, he'd have a far easier time getting that at the bar that he had come from. But there was just something about Regulus that drew him like a moth to a flame. He listened closely—the door hadn't been locked and he had only heard a few steps away from the door. He let out a breath and rapped his knuckles on the door. 

"Regulus?" he asked through the wooden barrier between them. "I know you can hear me. I'm going to open this door on the count of three. If you don't want me to come in, lock it before then, yeah? I'll leave if the door is locked." 

He didn't hear a response, but he hadn't really expected to. He counted to three and tried the knob. It turned freely in his hand and he pushed the door open to find Regulus standing in the entryway, staring at the floor. Suddenly, he looked so small and fragile to James. He hadn't thought until this very moment about the potential of him being the reason that Regulus would have avoided texting for this long. He knew what Regulus had said—I needed to be sure that I wanted you again and that I wasn't just dick drunk—but when he thought back on their first interaction, he realized what an ass he had been before they had hooked up. He wondered if those words he had said were making Regulus question James' true intentions here. He wondered if those words had made Regulus question his very self-worth.

I don’t date…

Have you ever had a hot quarterback want to fuck you in the dance studio?

…It can stay between us.

And fuck, he wished that he when met Regulus that he asked him on a date instead of casually fucking him in the studio. He had never wanted to date before, but everything about their chemistry had felt life-altering and brain-rewiring. When Regulus had kissed him, he felt like that was the first time he had truly been kissed—like every kiss before then had been to prepare him for how earth-shattering a real kiss would be. 

Every thought that had occupied his mind lately had been about Regulus. When the team had practice at the ballet studio last month, he had hoped beyond hope that Regulus would be the one teaching them again. When it had been a tiny woman with hair so blonde it was nearly white who had greeted him with a bright smile, he had almost felt bad for how coldly he had returned her greeting. He had spent the entirety of class thinking about what he and Regulus had done together in that very same space. When class had ended, he asked the woman—Pandora, he learned—about Regulus. She refused to give him a single detail, saying that if Regulus had wanted him to know anything then he would have reached out. It was obvious to James that the two of them were friends and that she was protecting Regulus, but the realization that Regulus needed to be protected from James because he had been such an asshole hadn't registered in his mind until this very moment.

"Why did you let me inside?" James asked in an attempt to let Regulus admit how he was feeling before James groveled over mere intuition.

Regulus' eyes snapped up, icy silver and full of something that James couldn't quite place. "Why didn't you text me back?" he threw back with venom lacing his tone, avoiding the question.

"Honestly? A few reasons. I was almost here being the main one. But I was also hurt that it took you this long to reach out to me. It made me feel like I had a little bit of the power back, I suppose. I wanted you to squirm for just a few minutes like I did these past couple months. For what it's worth, I'm sorry."

"I let you in because I'm stupid."

James flinched at that. "I think we can both agree that I'm the stupid one out of the two of us and that you're just far too forgiving."

Regulus quirked an eyebrow, his hurt and anger dissolving into something unreadable on his face. "I'm not sure which of us is more self-depreciating."

James gave a small laugh and took a timid step towards Regulus. "That's probably a tie, I'd wager." When Regulus didn't move away, James closed the space between them. "Why did you call me tonight, baby?"

Regulus looked away, a soft blush dusting his cheeks. "I—I just wanted to see you."

"Is that all?" James brushed a stray curl from Regulus' face and tucked it behind his ear. He used the movement to trail his fingers along Regulus' jaw and then with two fingers, tilted his face up so that he was forced to look at James. The blush on his cheeks deepened and it took every ounce of effort on James' part not to kiss him until they were both breathless. "I'm glad you called. I missed you, I couldn't stop thinking about you actually. I even asked your friend, or I assume she's your friend, Pandora? But she refused to tell me anything about how you were or—"

Regulus rose to the balls of his feet and pressed a tentative kiss to James' lips, interrupting his nervous rambling. He pulled back and looked at James, his eyes full of questions he was too afraid to voice, but James knew they were there. He had the same questions swirling in his own mind. 

"Regulus, what are we doing?"

"I'm trying to kiss you. What are you doing, Daddy?" Regulus purred, his voice thick with desire.

Every semblance of control James had over his yearning for Regulus snapped at the use of that damn word. He had never thought he'd be so turned on from someone calling him 'Daddy' but the moment Regulus—the most demanding brat he had ever met—had surrendered control to him and uttered the word, he was done for. And Regulus knew it too, used it to his own advantage, swaying James from having a serious discussion to get him to bend to his every whim. He wondered if Regulus had ever been the one to surrender control to him, really. He hoped to one day be able to make Regulus feel so safe and cherished that he did.

"Fuck, you're gonna be the death of me." James crashed his lips to Regulus' and every part of him felt right. These last few months he had felt like every part of him was slowly coming undone, unraveling at the seams. Even his coach had noticed a difference in practices, making him run more drills and sprints than usual. There was no way that he could continue to go on without Regulus in his life. Every kiss they exchanged felt like coming up for air after nearly drowning. Their tongues explored one another and it was like returning home after far too long away.

Regulus pulled away after what could have been five seconds or five hours, James wasn't sure, but the whine he let out at the loss of contact was embarrassing. Or, would have been embarrassing if he was a proud man. He had just come to the conclusion that he would sacrifice all pride in exchange for even just one more kiss from the man in his arms. 

"Shh," Regulus soothed as he snaked a hand down James' arm and threaded their fingers together. "Come to my room?"

"Anything." James said too quickly.

Regulus quirked an eyebrow. "Anything?" he asked deviously. "You may regret that."

James hummed, pretending to think about the statement. He didn't have to, he knew that Regulus could ask anything of him and he'd do everything in his power to make it happen. "Doubtful. Lead the way, baby."

Regulus took his hand and lead him down a hallway and into an open door. A large bed sat in the middle of the room, draped in black silk and plush cream blankets. Thick forest green drapes were drawn and a floor length mirror that James recognized from the photo Regulus had sent him earlier sat in a corner next to a vanity set. The entire room was the pinnacle of comfort and elegance and felt so very much like Regulus, he couldn't help but to smile. Regulus pulled him into his body and pressed a kiss to his mouth before pushing him backwards towards the edge of the bed.

"Sit," Regulus said. 

"Feeling bossy tonight, baby?" James purred.

"I'm always bossy," Regulus replied as he stepped forward. James opened his legs so he could stand between, reaching out to pull Regulus in close. Regulus hummed and trailed a finger down James' jaw, his eyes hooded and hazy with desire. "You just caught me off guard the first time."

"You seemed to enjoy it all the same," James said. He turned his head towards Regulus' trailing finger and caught it in his mouth, swirling his tongue around the digit and hollowing out his cheeks as he sucked. He reached up and slid his hands under the silk robe to grab Regulus' ass. 

"Safe words?" Regulus asked, pulling his finger out of James' mouth and looking down at him with an unreadable expression.

"Isn't that my line?"

"Not tonight, Daddy."

James moaned. He couldn't remember a time that he'd ever allowed the roles to be reversed. He always preferred to control the scene, to know everything that would happen, but something about Regulus made him want to relinquish that control. He trusted him, even if he barely knew him. He knew he'd be safe within the walls of this room with him.

"Red means immediately stop, in need of aftercare. Yellow means stop, check in. Green means good to go, please for the love of God, don't stop." Regulus nodded along as James spoke. He gently removed his glasses for him and walked away to place them on the nightstand next to the bed and then returned to his spot between James' knees. James leaned forward into his body and then he felt the sharp sting of a palm on his cheek. 

"I didn't say you could touch me yet," Regulus said coldly as he stepped back, removing James' hands from his body and leaving him sitting alone on the bed fully clothed. "Color?" His voice softened as he checked in.

"Fucking hell," James massaged his cheek. He had never had anyone slap him before, in or out of the bedroom, and it stung in a way he wasn't expecting.

"James, we can't continue if you won't answer me."

"Sorry, yeah, green. I'm green. Never been on this side of it, responding is harder than I thought."

Regulus' eyebrows raised in surprise, his face softening in concern and trepidation. "Let's pause, yeah?"

"I said I was green, baby."

"I know, I know, but—"

"Keep going, please. I'll be so good for you, beg so pretty if that's what you want." James would do anything.

Regulus seemed to be lost in thought for so long, James wasn't sure that he would continue, and then he slipped away once more and walked over to the opposite side of the room where a dresser sat against the wall. He picked up his phone and began to fiddle on it and just when James was about begin to beg, music filled the space around them. Regulus placed his phone down on the dresser and opened a drawer, pulling out a black box. He held the box as he walked back over towards the bed, placed it on the bed behind James, and then slowly strode to the middle of the room to stand in front of James, but just out of reach. He began to slowly untie the silk robe, his long fingers moving with purpose, working the knot in methodical movements that were intended to drive James insane. When the knot was undone, Regulus pulled the silk tie from around his body and threw it at James. He moved his hips to the music the entire time, rolling his body and driving James crazy with want. He could feel his cock quickly thickening in his jeans, becoming uncomfortable with neglect.

As he danced, the robe gaped slightly, giving James all too brief glimpses of Regulus' toned body, his abs flexing with movement, and red lace panties. James' mouth watered, wanting nothing but to tear through the lace and get a taste of what was hidden beneath it. Regulus inched the robe down off of his shoulders and turned his body, arching his back and giving James a show of the silk slowly being removed. He barely caught a glimpse of the red lace cupping Regulus' ass perfectly before his face got covered with the robe being thrown at him. He quickly ripped it off his face and gaped at the view of Regulus swaying his hips as he walked towards him. 

"No touching," Regulus warned as he approached.

James nodded, though he wasn't sure if he could abide by the rule. Regulus crawled onto the bed, nestling his knees on either side of James' body and resting his hands on his shoulders as he began rocking his hips in time with the music. At first, Regulus hovered, avoiding touching James as well, but then he leaned in. He began grinding his hips on James, both of them moaning at the friction. It took every ounce of self control that James had to keep his hips still and his hands firmly placed on the bed as Regulus ground himself on his cock. One of Regulus' hands slid up from James' shoulder and buried itself into James' curls. He gave James a sloppy kiss and when he pulled away, a trail of spit connected them. 

Regulus pushed at James' shoulder and he allowed himself to fall back, laying on the bed with his feet off the edge and staring up at the beautiful man before him. "Fuck, you're gorgeous," he said, unable to stop himself from verbalizing the observation.

"I know, but I think you've seen enough, Daddy." 

James' brows knit together in confusion as Regulus reached forward, grinding his hips into James as he did. James moaned at the friction, the sharp zipper of his jeans digging into his swollen cock and kissing him with a combination of pleasure and pain. He heard Regulus rummaging into something, the box he assumed, and when he sat back he held up a blindfold in question. 

"Fuck," James moaned. "Yeah, okay. Whatever you want, baby. Just… please let me out of my clothes first?"

"Aw, poor Daddy. Fully clothed while his baby is dripping with desire." Regulus placed the blindfold on the bed next to him and dipped his fingers into his panties. James could feel his fingers swirling in the wetness gathered there through his jeans, nearly bucking his hips at the feeling. When Regulus pulled his hand away, his fingers were soaked with his arousal. He sucked his fingers into his own mouth, moaning as he pulled the fingers away and pushed them against his lips as his tongue swirled around them. James groaned and pushed his hips up into Regulus' body, seeking more friction as he watched.

"You're not going to cum until I let you, Daddy." Regulus made quick work of removing James' shirt and then shifted his hips so he had access to James' belt. He made a show of unlatching the belt and sliding the leather through the loops before holding the belt in front of him. "Hands?" 

James looked up at Regulus' face as he held out his hands in offering. He felt Regulus wrap the belt around his wrists, looping the leather confidently, latched the buckle, and then checked the tension with his fingers. Then, Regulus picked up the blindfold and secured it over his eyes, preventing James from both seeing and touching what he most desired.

"Color?"

"Green."

"Good."

He felt the weight of Regulus leave his lap and whined at the loss of him. Left fully alone on the bed, he writhed in need. The loss of his sight was a sensation that heightened all other senses in his body and his leaking and aching cock began to overwhelm all of his nerves. He heard a rustling of fabric and then froze when he felt Regulus' fingers begin to work at the button of his jeans. He unzipped the fly of his jeans tortuously slow and then James felt his jeans being pulled by the loops. He canted his hips to aid in the removal of them and then felt Regulus' hot breath against his cock through the thin material of his boxer briefs. 

"Look at you," Regulus breathed, nuzzling into his aching cock. "So hard for me and I've barely touched you. Leaking and desperate for me."

"Just for you, baby," James said as he thrusted his hips into nothing, seeking friction and finding none. 

"Such a little slut for me," Regulus said. "Sluts don't get to cum though, do they?"

James let out a desperate whine. He could tell from Regulus' voice that he was no longer near his cock and his suspicions were confirmed when he felt the bed dip next to his head. 

"Especially when they lack manners. You can't even beg properly." Regulus continued. "You'll have to work extra hard to cum, Daddy."

James felt Regulus crawling closer and then Regulus was hovering over his mouth, hot pleasure nearly dripping into his mouth. Regulus was so close, he could practically taste him. He let out a whine and lifting his head in an attempt to meet Regulus' body with his mouth, desperate to please.

A rough hand buried into his hair and held him in place. "Mind your manners, Daddy. Ask me nicely to sit on your face. Beg for my cunt, like the needy slut you are."

"Please, baby. Please let me taste you." Every thought had left James' mind, the only thing that mattered was dipping his tongue into Regulus' body. "I'll do anything you say, please, please. Baby, I just need to taste you. Please."

Regulus hummed and released his hand from James' hair. "Maybe you can be trained," he said, mimicking the words that James had said to him just a few short months ago when their roles had been reversed. "If you need to safe word, reach up and tap me three times. Show me, Daddy." James contorted his hands so he could follow the direction given and when Regulus was satisfied that James knew how to get his attention, he lowered himself onto James's face. He let out a loud moan as James dipped his tongue into him, grinding into James' face. James moaned right along with him—unable to see or touch, his senses became overwhelmed with everything that was Regulus. He rocked his hips as he continued to lick and suck and bury himself into Regulus' wet heat. He felt Regulus' breath hitch, aware of every movement the man riding his face made, and then Regulus was cumming. James' mouth flooded with the heady taste of Regulus' orgasm and he continued to lick him through it, relishing in the warm liquid pooling in his mouth. 

"Fuck," Regulus moaned, grinding his hips down into James' face. "I knew we could put that mouth to good use."

James groaned, circling the bundle of nerves at the apex of Regulus' thighs with his tongue, hoping that Regulus knew he agreed with the sentiment. 

"How many times can you make me cum, Daddy?"

James' hips bucked, seeking friction he knew he wouldn't find. He continued to lick and suck at Regulus above him, desperate to please the man riding his face. It didn't take long for Regulus to cum again and as James fucked his tongue into him, he felt Regulus ride the wave of one orgasm right into another, the taste of him sweet in his mouth. His hips were constantly moving of their own accord now, James barely aware of his own body, and wholly focused on Regulus' pleasure. He had decided that if he couldn't feel physical pleasure of his own, then he would tune himself into Regulus'.

"Do you want to cum, Daddy?" Regulus asked the question, but pushed himself so firmly onto James' face that he could hardly breathe, let alone answer. James moaned at the feeling and gave himself earnestly to Regulus for his pleasure, sucking at the nerves and tasting Regulus orgasm again. 

Regulus let out a breathy moan, riding James' face through his orgasm, before he spoke again. "You've been so good for me, keeping that mouth busy to make sure I cum. So, so good. I think you get rewarded for being so well behaved."

When Regulus raised his body from James' face, he whined at the loss. He heard Regulus laugh darkly. "Little slut misses my cunt already?" A finger trailed his body, starting at his neck and working down his chest to a nipple, then pinched. "Answer me."

"Y-yeah. Miss it so much, baby. You taste so good. I could live off that cunt."

"Hmm," Regulus hummed in consideration as he continued to trail his fingers up and down James' torso. "If I let you cum, do you think you'll be able to fuck me and cum inside me after?"

"Inside? Reg—"

"I'm haven't—I'm still clean if you are. I have an IUD. Sorry, uh… Yellow? I shouldn't have brought this up while you're… like this."

Regulus began fiddling with the blindfold and James pulled his head away in a desperate attempt to make Regulus stop. He didn't want to break the scene, he had felt himself slipping into a subspace for the first time and wanted to allow himself to relish at the feeling. "No, baby. Green. I'm good. Better than good. I want that so bad, desperate for it actually."

"James, I'm the one who called the safe word… I have condoms, it's fine—"

"I don't want them, you only called the safe word because you felt like you were coercing me. You're not. I want this. I want you." James was desperate to make Regulus understand that he was fully aware of the decision, that he was truly fine with the decision. He hadn't been with anyone since he and Regulus had hooked up and if he was honest with himself, he didn't want to be with anyone else anyway. He trusted when Regulus said he had birth control and if he didn't… well, he'd even be okay with the consequences of that too. Fuck, Regulus made him feel insane.

He heard Regulus let out a breath, a long stretch of silence weighing heavy between them. Then, he felt a hand rubbing his cock between the thin material of his briefs. He hissed at the contact, his cock neglected for so long it grew hypersensitive. "Well, then you're going to have to answer the question, Daddy. Will you be able fuck me after I get you off?"

Regulus pulled his hand away and James chased his hand with his hips, desperate for the heady mixture of pleasure and pain that was the feather light touch of his hand on his cock. He nodded, shameless in his search for pleasure from the man who held him in the palm of his hand. 

"Words, Daddy. If you won't answer, I'll just have to use one of the toys in that box instead while you lay here, pathetic and needy, listening to me cum all by myself."

"Fuck, baby. Yeah, yes. Please. Can I cum? Can you make me cum?"

"Well," Regulus purred. "Since you asked so sweetly."

James felt his boxers being pulled down from his hips and he shifted his weight to help, his cock sprang free and he hissed at the feeling of the fabric when it brushed against his sensitive skin. Before he had adjusted to his cock free from the confines of his underwear, Regulus had taken him into his mouth, swallowing his entire length in one fluid motion. He pulled back, brushing the flat of his tongue against the underside of his cock, then swirled his tongue around his sensitive tip. Regulus pushed his tongue into the slit, lapping at the pre-cum gathered there, then sucked his cock back into his mouth, taking him all the way to the back of his throat. He continued to bob his head, hollowing his cheeks and sucking before relaxing his throat and taking him impossibly deeper. James moaned, pushing his hips in time with Regulus' movements before he felt himself on the edge of his orgasm. 

"Reg, baby, I'm gonna—" Regulus gripped his thighs and pushed himself down, holding James deep to spill down his throat. James thrust his hips as he felt himself dissolve into pleasure, the hypersensitivity lending itself to a powerful orgasm. He felt Regulus pull away and he whined at the loss of contact. 

Regulus crawled up his body and ripped off the blindfold. James blinked a few times, adjusting his eyes to the light of the room after being deprived for so long. "Hi, baby. You look so pretty with your lips swollen from sucking my cock."

"You have a big mouth for someone who still can't use his hands," Regulus teased. James watched as Regulus reached over him towards the box on the bed. He rustled around until he found what he was looking for and instead of leaning back into James' body, he pushed himself up and away. James stared at his ass as he walked across the room, missing the warmth of his body, but relishing in the view. Regulus dragged a chair from the vanity in front of the bed where James was perched and sat down, propping his feet on the edge of the bed on either side of James' knees with a cherry red vibrator in his hand. 

James sat upright, his legs dangling off the bed, and shifted his body closer to Regulus. "Baby, what are you doing?"

"You're going to watch until you learn to keep your mouth shut." 

"You're really gonna fuck yourself with a vibrator that's my favorite color and expect me to be quiet?"

"If you want to fuck me after, yes." Regulus turned on the vibrator, the hum of the toy filling the space between them. "I am more than happy to fuck myself until I'm satisfied if you decide not to learn your lesson, it won't be me going home with an aching cock."

Regulus leaned back into the chair, opening his legs wider to offer James a perfect view of how soaked he was before he brushed the toy over the sensitive nerves. James whined as Regulus moaned in pleasure, his cock already half hard from the view before him. Regulus pushed the vibrator inside of him and writhed, rocking his hips and crying out in pleasure. James could practically taste the orgasm building inside Regulus already. 

"Baby, you're so fucking pretty, I wish you could see yourself."

"Maybe I was wrong about you," Regulus said between moans, fucking himself on the vibrator without inhibitions. 

James hummed and leaned forward, dropping his bound arms between his knees so he could get himself closer to Regulus. "Wrong about what, baby?"

"Maybe you can't be trained after all." Regulus gasped, arching his back as he rode through another orgasm.

"Probably not," James laughed darkly. "I've never let anyone boss me around before. Give a man a little credit for his efforts? You're irresistible after all."

"Fuck it—" Regulus turned off the vibrator and tossed it on the bed next to James as he lowered his legs. He reached forward and undid the buckle of the belt binding James' arms together and massaged the skin there, ensuring that he hadn't lost any feeling in the limbs. 

James laced his fingers into Regulus' dark curls and pulled him in for a sloppy kiss, his head spinning at the taste of himself on Regulus' lips. "We could still use the toy, you know."

Regulus raised an eyebrow in question, giving James a nonverbal prompt to continue.

"You could keep fucking yourself with that toy, which I loved watching by the way, holy fuck— And I could fuck that tight ass of yours at the same time."

Regulus sat in the chair staring for a moment, seemingly too stunned by the suggestion to speak. 

"If you don't want—"

"I want. I've just… I've never done that before. Both, at the same time."

"I'll make it so good for you, sweetheart." James leaned in for a quick kiss. "Get on the bed for me on all fours, yeah? I'm assuming you've got lube in this box of yours." He leaned back towards the box and rummaged through until he found a bottle of lube. As he searched, he felt the bed shift with Regulus' weight. When he looked back over, he saw Regulus on the bed with his ass in the air, staring at him with a glassy, contented expression. James picked up the discarded vibrator, turned it on, and handed it to Regulus. "Don't stop, baby."

He watched as Regulus adjusted his body so that he could fuck himself on the toy and moaned at the sight. Gripping Regulus' ass, James parted his cheeks and lapped at the ring of muscle while Regulus continued to writhe and moan beneath him. When James had determined that Regulus was thoroughly relaxed, he coated his fingers with lube and gently pushed in one finger. 

"You take me so good, baby. Fuck, it's like you were made for this." He continued to work Regulus open, pushing his finger in and out in time with the way Regulus was moving the vibrator. He coaxed a second finger inside and felt Regulus tense at the change. James used his other hand to rub soothing circles into his ass, whispering sweet words to relax him. "Just breathe, baby. You're doing so good. So good for me."

Regulus preened, relaxing almost instantly at the praise. He pushed his ass into James further, begging for more with his body instead of his words. James continued to work his fingers, opening him gently so that he would continue to relax into the feeling. He knew it would burn when he pushed his third finger in and when he did, he heard Regulus take in a sharp breath, but he didn't tense like he had earlier. Instead, he rocked into his hand, never once faltering in fucking himself with the vibrator. James felt the vibrations up his arm and groaned at the thought of how obscene it was going to feel to be inside of Regulus in just a few short moments. He continued to scissor his fingers, working Regulus open and prepping him to avoid the burn as much as possible. 

"Daddy, if you don't fuck me soon I'm going to lose my mind."

"I just want to make sure you're ready, baby." James moved his fingers slower, teasingly.

Regulus whined, pushing his ass back into James' hand. "Please, I'm fucking ready and you know it."

James hummed, pretending to be deep in thought and stilling his fingers. "I'm not sure you're begging nicely enough, baby."

"Please, Daddy. Please, I need your cock." Regulus arched his back impossibly further, tempting James with such a beautiful view he couldn't resist.

"Well, since you asked so nicely, baby." James pulled his fingers away and slicked his cock with lube before lining himself up at Regulus' entrance. "Remember to use your safe words, baby. If it hurts, pull the vibrator out, okay? It shouldn't hurt, just relax into it."

Regulus nodded.

"Words, baby." James was so close to losing his self control.

"Yes, Daddy. If it hurts, I'll stop. Now for the love of God, please fuck me already."

James laughed darkly and slapped Regulus' ass for the bratty behavior before he began to slowly inch himself inside. Regulus moaned, a needy and wanton thing, and James felt him slow the movement of the vibrator as he pushed himself into his body. The vibrations traveling through Regulus' body into his cock made his breath hitch with pleasure. He paused his movements when he bottomed out, waiting for Regulus to squirm or begin moving the toy again before he fucked into him with reckless abandon. 

"Fucking—Move, James."

James slapped his ass again, not moving an inch. "That's not who I am to you right now, baby. And that's not how you speak to me."

"You're having a real fucking power trip for someone who was tied up a few minutes ago."

"You're having a real fucking power trip for someone who's filled up in every hole." James leaned forward and shoved two fingers in Regulus' mouth, pushing them deep and making Regulus gag from the surprise. When the shock subsided, Regulus moaned and swirled his tongue around. "I'm going to fuck you now and the only thing you're going to say is please and thank you, Daddy."

Regulus nodded around his fingers and James pulled away so he could finally move his hips. His pace was relentless, ignoring the pace that Regulus had set with the toy and fucking into him for nothing but the pursuit of his own pleasure. Regulus moaned and writhed beneath him, pushing his hips back into James in an attempt to keep pace. The vibrator continued to buzz, sending both of them into heightened sensitivity, and James knew that despite his earlier orgasm, he wasn't going to last long. 

"Please," Regulus moaned. His back was shiny with sweat and when he looked over his shoulder at James, he noticed that his usual waves were stuck to his forehead. His cheeks were flushed with pleasure and James nearly came at the sight of him completely undone beneath him. 

"Please, what, baby?" James asked as he continued pounding into him.

"Wanna cum. Want you to cum. Please, Daddy."

"Want me to fill you up, baby?"

Regulus let out a loud moan and James felt his body tense in pleasure.

"Fuck, baby. I've got you, cum for me one more time. I'll give you what you need."

That was all it took for Regulus to become undone and at the feeling of those muscles tightening and relaxing around him, James came hard and fast. He thrusted impossibly deeper inside of Regulus and spilled every drop inside of his body, marveling at the feeling. 

Regulus pulled the toy out of himself and switched off the vibration before chucking it to the side on the bed and going completely limp beneath him. James collapsed on top of him, wrapping his arms around him and pulling him in close as he turned to his side, spooning Regulus while still inside of him. He didn't want to be apart yet. He needed this closeness after the intensity of what they had just done together. He kissed Regulus' shoulder and hummed a mindless melody to himself, completely sated and satisfied. 

After a few minutes, it was Regulus who broke the silence. "James, you-you're still inside of me and we're disgusting."

"Shh, sweetheart. One more minute." James felt his eyes growing heavy and his cock softening inside of Regulus' body.

"If we stay like this for one more minute, you're gonna fall asleep. We're sticky and gross. I can't sleep like this. Let's shower."

He felt Regulus pulling away and teasingly bit down on his shoulder, earning himself a rare laugh from Regulus, and then Regulus did pull away and James let out a whine. He opened his eyes and while his vision wasn't great without his glasses, it was clear enough to witness the eyeroll reserved just for him. Regulus held out his hand in offering and James groaned as he grabbed it and got up from the bed, allowing Regulus to lead him into the bathroom down the hall.

James watched as Regulus leaned over to adjust the water on the shower, staring at his ass and the evidence of his orgasm dripping out onto his thighs. He stepped closer and brushed a hand along Regulus' upper thigh, trailing up slowly, and gathered the cum leaking from his body onto his fingers. Regulus hitched a breath and leaned in, encouraging James to push his fingers inside of Regulus' ass. 

"Not satisfied?" Regulus asked on a breathy moan.

"More like you make me feel insatiable. Besides, you wanted me to fill you up. Seemed like a waste to have it dripping out of you already." He pumped his fingers a few times before pulling them out and smacking his ass playfully. "Shower's ready, yeah?"

"Hmm? O-oh, yeah." Regulus stepped into the stream of water and James followed right after, letting the warm water soothe his tired muscles. They went through the routine of showering, exchanging sweet kisses and pulling each other close. They washed each other's bodies and hair and James felt like he could cry over the small acts of intimacy that they shared. When they finished, Regulus turned off the water and James toweled him off slowly, methodically. He made sure to touch every part of his body with the plush towel, immediately followed by soft kisses. When Regulus was dry, James wrapped a towel around his own hips and kissed him gently, reverently. Savoring the taste of him on his mouth, he hoped that Regulus would know how precious he was without words.

"It's getting late…" Regulus murmured between kisses.

James kissed him again, pulling his body impossibly closer. "Can I stay?"

"James, listen—"

"If you want to keep this casual, I get it, I just…"

Regulus' brows knit together. "You're the one who said you don't date, James. The shower together was pushing my boundaries of domesticity for a casual hookup."

"I know what I said—"

"Look, it's late—"

"No, let me finish. Please?"

Regulus sighed, pulling away slightly and James shivered at the loss of him. "Fine, but can we put clothes on first?"

"Yeah," James nodded. "Yeah, let's get dressed and have some tea or something."

They padded back to the bedroom in silence and Regulus pulled out clean clothes from his dresser. James picked up his discarded clothing from the floor and winced at the idea of pulling them back onto his body when Regulus wordlessly handed him a pair of sweatpants and a threadbare band tee. 

"They might be a little tight, but that's the closest I've got to your size."

"Thanks, sweetheart." James smiled and pulled the clothes on. Regulus was right that they were a little tighter than he'd usually prefer, but they were still more comfortable than his jeans would have been. He grabbed his glasses from the nightstand and placed them back on his face.

Regulus' body was lost in the sea of baggy sweatpants and over-sized tee that he picked for himself and James smiled at the memory of meeting him for the first time and having to pull off so many layers that he lost count. He followed Regulus out of the room, down the hallway, and into the kitchen where he filled a kettle with water and placed it on the stove to boil. 

"I—"

"Peppermint?" Regulus asked, effectively stopping James from beginning the conversation he was itching to have. "I also have lavender?"

"Peppermint is fine." He answered. He let the silence draw out between them as Regulus worked to prepare their tea and when he was finally handed a steaming mug, he followed Regulus into the living room and sat next to him on the couch. 

"Okay, now you can finish."

"I want to take you on a date."

Regulus quirked an eyebrow in disbelief. "A date? This coming from the man who said he doesn't date."

"I don't—"

"And yet here you are, asking me for something you don't do?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

James let out a breath, gathering his thoughts and his nerves. "I really like you—"

"You don't know—"

"Let me finish. You said I could finish." James looked at Regulus earnestly, begging him with his eyes to listen to what he had to say before reacting. 

Regulus leaned back into the couch and waved a hand for him to continue. 

"I don't date. I haven't ever wanted to until I met you. And maybe this is fucking crazy, I feel fucking crazy, but I feel like I've known you my entire life. Like I've known you in every life I've ever lived. Like I've loved you in every one of them. And sure, we don't know each other very well here and now, but I feel like I know you. Like I could grow to love you in this lifetime too. Those months where you had my number but didn't reach out? I felt like I was missing a limb I never knew I had before I met you. I didn't seek anyone out in our time apart, I mean— Fuck, the guys on the team made fun of me for not taking home girls when we'd go out like I usually did. For ignoring everyone who threw themselves at me. None of them were you. I don't expect us to just magically fall in love and live happily ever after, but I really want us to give this a real shot." James finally looked up at Regulus. His eyes were red rimmed and tears gathered there, on the precipice of being spilled. "Don't cry, baby, I'm sorry—"

"Do you mean it?" Regulus' voice was small and shaky, like he was afraid to be this vulnerable.

"I do. But I need you to know before you agree to go out with me that we'd have to keep us a secret. At least until after the drafts. I-I really want this, I really want us, but I've been working my entire life to get into the NFL and they're just…"

"You can't be openly queer in football." Regulus said, his voice hollow and empty of emotion. The tears gathered in his eyes rolled down his cheeks and James leaned forward to wipe them away with his thumb.

"Not yet. I can be the first, but I need to get drafted first. I'm willing to be the first, if it means I get to keep you, as long as you know what kind of attention would fall onto you too."

"What kind of attention?"

"The homophobic kind. The picking apart everything about you and your life kind. The transphobic kind, undoubtedly."

Regulus flinched.

"I don't need an answer tonight, it's late and it's a lot to think about—"

"Ask me again."

"Regulus…"

"Ask me again."

"Can I stay the night?"

"Yes, James. I'd love that. But on one condition."

James smiled. "Anything for you."

"You have to take me out to breakfast in the morning. On a date."

"I'd be honored, baby."

[jinx-xxed]

hey love, I found your acc really randomly and I’m in love with your writings oml. If you feel comfortable with it, I want to request a commandmentleader!meliodas x goddess!Reader from 3000 years ago ( female or not idk) so reader basically is Elisabeth but with for example her actively fighting or something like that. ( I’m sorry if it’s not really detailed, englisch is not my first language.) 🤍

Heart of Battle

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

A/N; Hello hello, thank you so much for the request!! I’m so sorry it’s taken me this long to get around to it omg 😭😭 I’m very glad you like my work and I hope you enjoy this one!! Also sorry if any plot points are wonky, it’s been a while since I’ve had a refresher 🫠

Summary; Taking matters into your own hands sometimes isn’t the best idea.

Content; Goddess reader, Stigma era Meliodas, first Holy War, angst to soft fluff, battle, blood and injury, protective Meliodas, you disobeying orders, fighting demons, Meliodas saves you, he cleans you up afterwards

Wc; 1.9k

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

“Where is she?”

The flaps of the commanders tent open to reveal Meliodas, his brows scrunched with confusion as he peers around the space, clearly looking for someone. His great sword is still strapped to his back, fresh from a recent battle he won to the surprise of nobody. The three generals inside the tent—two humans and a fairy—are gathered around a map scattered with different little pieces to represent their armies and the ones of their enemies. They’re spread out in such a way that it’s hard to tell if one or the other has the upper hand.

“Who, sir?” One of the human generals asks.

The other smacks his breastplate, a knowing smirk on his face. “The goddess, obviously.”

Meliodas nods. “I’ve looked all over camp but I don’t see her. Do you know where she is?”

The fairy hums. “I think last I heard she was heading to some place in the west. Around here?” He floats down towards the map and puts his finger on a little village. One that’s completely surrounded by dark purple figures.

Meliodas feels something in his chest sink as he looks at that map. The area the fairy pointed to had been blocked off by Stigma troops because it became so overrun with demons that nobody was able to get in—it was too dangerous. He remembers how upset you’d been when the order to not go near the west had been announced earlier that day.

“There are still people there! People who need our help. I can do it, I can save them.” You had protested.

You’d been shot down instantly. Everyone told you it wasn’t worth the risk and that you’d die if you tried, including him. He’d made you promise you wouldn’t attempt anything before he left on a recon mission. You looked him in the eyes and told him what he wanted to hear; he should’ve known better than to trust your word. You’ve always been too kind, too willing to put others before yourself, and now you’ve done it again. Perhaps for the last time.

Fear surges up inside of Meliodas so fast he feels dizzy. He curses loudly before turning on his heel and running out of the tent. As soon as he’s outside, his wings of darkness are unfolding behind him and he’s blasting into the sky. He feels the worried gazes of comrades down below, wondering what sent him into such a frenzy, but he’s gone so quickly that no one can linger on it.

He’s never doubted your abilities, he knows how strong you are. But he also knows when and where to pick battles and he knows that this is far too much for you. The closer he gets, the more he can feel you, his second half. He can feel how much you’re struggling, how quickly your strength is diminishing. It makes him use his power to boost him forward, the wind blasting against his body.

He just hopes he’s not too late.

» ☆ «

Blood is sticky on your skin.

You have no idea what’s yours and what’s the demons’ anymore.

Massive, hulking bodies lay strewn all around you and yet when one goes down, it seems there’s two more to replace it. You don’t know how long you’ve been fighting for, your mind instead focused solely on the survivors that huddle in the safety of a small ditch behind you. There’s only four of them—a man, a woman, and two children. None of them are related but they’re the only ones who managed to survive the massacre that happened throughout the area.

You wish you could’ve gotten here sooner, that you could’ve done more. You wish Stigma would’ve been more generous with their troops instead of giving up immediately, deeming this spot unworthy of their help. You also wish you were stronger so that the endless onslaught of demons wasn’t so daunting and you weren’t on the brink of collapse.

You can’t even escape anymore, your wings long since cut and torn, blood turning the white feathers red. Your only choice now is to stay and fight until whatever bitter end is going to meet you and hope the demons will be too focused on your corpse to notice the survivors.

You explode a demon in a flash of golden light, sweeping an arc of power through another. Their roars are deafening against your ears, their steps thundering against the ground beneath you and making your already shaky stance even shakier.

You know you should’ve listened, everybody told you the risks weren’t worth it. But leaving innocent people to die at the hands of the demons without even trying to save them didn’t sit right with you. You’d only told a few when you left, word no doubt spreading quickly across the camp. You were gone by the time anyone could stop you, heading out entirely on your own on what many would call a suicide mission. Even Meliodas had told you to stay put earlier, giving you that stern look of his as he did.

You have no doubt that he’s angry at you and you wonder if he’s back from his own mission yet. If he’s learned of your fate.

You’re torn from your thoughts when one misstep puts you in the hands of a gray demon. You let out a choked yell as the thing roughly grabs you by your wings, bunching them together and crushing them further. You wriggle and squirm as you’re lifted higher and higher, your chest heaving with the effort and pain. You try so desperately to ignite your powers but all you get is a few golden sparks at your fingertips. You’ve used everything you have.

Tears mix with the blood and soot on your face, blurring your vision so you can barely even see the thing about to deliver your death. It stares at you curiously, its teeth clicking together at the prospect of a tasty meal. Some of the demons around it grumble and whine, wanting some for themselves. It’s like being dangled above a pit of hungry lions, all ready to tear you apart.

Just as the gray demon’s mouth opens, its attention shifts to something in the sky. There’s a surge of dark power so strong you can feel it in your core, the hair along your arms rising. Then, in the blink of an eye, the demon that holds you is split in half. It lets out a guttural, pitiful moan as it begins to fall, its clawed hand releasing you at last. You barely even register the fact that you’re falling, your consciousness hardly holding on from the pain drumming throughout your body. You just manage to see all the other demons around you suffer the same fate—a clean slash through their middles that sizzle afterwards with black fire.

You prepare for the ground to meet you, to obliterate the rest of your bones, but you fall into familiar, strong arms instead. You manage to blink through your tears and look up to see Meliodas, his green eyes full of concern while he takes in your sorry state. “Just in time, huh?” He says gently, a sort of sad expression on his face. You know how much he hates seeing you hurt, and how much he hates the fact you did this without him. He sighs. “We need to get out of here before the demons regroup.”

“Wait- the survivors-“ you choke out, no longer having the strength to do anything else.

Meliodas turns to look at the four peeking their heads out of the ditch who found safety in the fact that the roars of the demons have finally gone quiet. They seem wary of him when he walks up to them and he finds he has little patience when you’re actively dying in his arms. He bluntly tells them of a safe path to the east, one that will lead them to a camp that’s full of soldiers and other survivors. Once he at least makes sure they’re heading the right way, he jumps into the sky and begins his flight back to the Stigma base.

Meliodas holds you tightly while being careful of your multitude of injuries. His warmth is a welcome comfort, one that allows you to relax just the slightest bit.

As soon as he lands back in the Fairy Kings Forest, he’s demanding a healer and buckets of water. When people see your sorry state, they’re quick to listen. You’re brought to a quiet, secluded area lush with soft flower beds and shade provided by the trees, away from the hustle and bustle of the rest of the camp. Meliodas lays you down gently, your head propped up on his legs while a fellow goddess kneels down beside you. A soft golden glow emanates from her hands, spreading warmth throughout your body as her powers slowly but surely heal you.

Your breathing becomes easier, the massive gashes along your limbs steadily close. Meliodas tries to wipe off as much of the blood and grime as he can in the meantime, using gentle movements with a warm rag as you lay there. It’s all very peaceful, a needed respite after the hell you’d gone through.

You’re not sure how much time passes before the goddess is finished. You only notice when the hum of her powers disappears. “There, she should be fully healed. She’ll just need plenty of rest and nutrients in order to make a full recovery.”

“I’ll make sure it gets done. Thank you.” Meliodas replies with a nod. The goddess gives a small bow before taking her leave.

There’s an uneasy silence that stretches between the two of you, heavy with the words waiting to be said. You keep your eyes closed as if that will make it go away. You’re more than content with lying there in the flowers and forgetting how much of a failure you were today. But that’s not an option, of course.

“I told you not to go there.” Meliodas begins, his voice uneasy with his emotions. “Everyone knew it was too dangerous. Including you.”

You huff a breath through your nose, finally opening your eyes to meet his. “Mel… you know I couldn’t just leave it. We need to try and help everyone we can during this war or else there won’t be anything left.”

“That territory is basically like a dead zone because of how overrun it is. You were insane to go there alone for only four people.” He insists.

“Yes but that’s four people who will get to live another day, who may make the decision to join the cause and help us.” You retort. You take his calloused hand into yours, his thumb instantly rubbing along the back of your hand soothingly. “I know it was reckless of me and I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have worried everyone- worried you like that.”

He looks at you for a moment, tracing your features with his eyes. He sighs in defeat and you smile, knowing you’ve won. He leans down to kiss you, the messy blond strands of his hair tickling your face. The kiss is quick and sweet, simply a confirmation that you’re still here. He straightens himself and holds your cheeks lovingly in his hands. His head tilts. “Promise me next time you decide to do something so stupid you’ll bring me along?”

You laugh, taking one of his hands and bringing his knuckles to your lips. “I promise.”

[aviiarie]

⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ SIMPLE COMFORTS — platonic kagaya, tengen, mitsuri, inosuke & reader !

synopsis. how do they comfort a friend when they are upset? warnings. crying, mentions of food/eating. notes. PLATONIC. gn!reader. hurt/comfort. headcanons. 1.8k words.

— KAGAYA

it isn't really a surprise that kagaya has one of the most comforting presences. he might seem unapproachable—being the leader of the demon slayer corps, and all that—but if you can manage to get over that fact, then he is the best person to seek out for comfort.

oftentimes though, you don't need to seek him out at all. he is like a bloodhound when it comes to sniffing out when you're upset; there's no hiding your feelings, because he sees right through you.

on bad days, when a simple mistake is enough to bring you to tears, he will be there to kindly offer to take a walk around the estate together.

he won't force you to talk about what is troubling you; if you would prefer to not speak, then he is more than happy to fill the silence with idle comments about the pleasant weather, or how pretty the wisteria looks when it is fully bloomed.

if you do want to talk, then he is already leading you to a quiet spot and sitting you down on the soft grass so you have a little privacy. he'll sit right across from you, taking your hands and giving them a gentle squeeze.

that's enough to break the small amount of composure you had, and the tears begin to flow.

anything you need, he will happily give. comforting touch? he's pulling you into his arms and holding you against his chest, letting you press your tear-stained face into the front of his clothes without complaint. words of reassurance? he's whispering comforts into your ear while you cry, rubbing circles across your shoulder.

when you're ready to talk about what has been on your mind, then he is there to listen, chiming in with his own advice and guidance. if you aren't looking for suggestions, just somewhere to vent all of your frustrations, then he is willing to sit there and just listen.

no matter what you need, his presence is soothing, and spending a little time with him is sure to quell the surge of emotions spilling over.

“shh… it’s alright. i’m here because i want to help you, [name]. just take your time, and let it all out; i’m not leaving anytime soon.”

— TENGEN

tengen on the other hand, is rather... outspoken, when it comes to comfort.

he isn't one to shy away from his feelings; when he cares about someone, he will make sure they know it, and when he is upset he will be anything but quiet about it. the same rule applies when he is offering comfort to his loved ones: if you are upset, he will not rest until you are soothed.

it's an unstoppable force meeting an immovable object. don't want to talk? that's too bad. you made the grievous error of being friends with him, and he will not leave you alone until you tell him what is wrong.

it's a little overbearing, but it comes from a genuine place. he just wants to see you feeling better, and he will achieve that through any means.

his first suggestion is to go out to eat—paid for by him, of course. he’ll take you anywhere you want, no matter how far away or pricey it might be. if you aren’t up for going out in public, that's fine too! that just means he will simply have to cook you a meal himself.

he also gives amazing hugs. like, 10/10. he’s very big and very strong, so being in his arms feels like the safest place in the world. if you ask for one, he will drop whatever he is doing and scoop you up into a hug.

he doesn't let go until you do, so if it means you're just standing there, quietly sniffling into the front of his clothes, then so be it. he isn't one to complain, he'll just keep patting your back comfortingly.

tengen is also a problem solver. he’ll wait until you’ve calmed down a little bit, but as soon as your breathing is steady and the tears are cleaned from your face, he’s sitting you down and getting you to properly explain what is bothering you so much.

from there, he does his best to work out a solution together, to either solve the problem or help ease it so it isn’t stressing you out so much. if it’s a person who is upsetting you, then he will deal with them himself. (no one gets to make his friend cry and get away with it.)

overall, tengen’s comfort is somewhat pushy, but surprisingly effective. by the time he leaves, you’ll forget why you were upset at all.

“come on, let's go get some food, and something to drink. we'll have you feeling like your usual self soon enough!”

— MITSURI

if you're upset, mitsuri is upset. if you're crying, so is she. she can't help it! she's an emotional person, and nothing brings out her emotions quite like her friends. so the sight of your tears, the way your face crumples up, your cheeks glistening... oh, someone grab her a tissue.

she'll pull herself together quickly though, long enough to realize exactly what you need: comfort!

a hug is what she offers at first, and oh my, her hugs are healing. you thought tengen's were good? no, mitsuri is the queen of hugging.

there's something in the way she pulls you to her chest, draping her arms over your back with just the right amount of pressure to feel comforting without being stifling. even if you're bigger than her, she has a way of making you feel so small and protected in her arms, with how she murmurs comforts in your ear while tracing lines up and down your back.

stay there as long as you need, she won’t mind. she'll just keep pressing you close to her, humming soothing words into your hair.

she's normally affectionate towards her friends, but that affection doubles when she notices you're down. when you’re walking, she'll loop her arm through yours, bump your shoulders together and squeeze your hand. along with physical affection comes an onslaught of reassuring words, everything from letting you know how brave you are, to complimenting you on your outfit.

behind the endearments though, she is so nervous. all she can think about is how you're feeling, what's bothering you, what she can do to help...

mitsuri is torn. she doesn't want to be pushy and pressure you into telling her what's wrong, but she wants to do what she can to help you feel better, and how can she do that if she doesn't even know what is bothering you in the first place?

if you do decide to tell her, don't worry, she's an excellent listener. once you're done, she'll interject with her own advice and opinions, but while you explain to her what is going on, she's focused only on your voice, nodding along seriously.

if it's a problem she can help with, then all the better! she’ll jump at the opportunity.

it it's something outside of her control, then she'll turn her focus to making you feel like yourself again as soon as possible.

her methods include copious amounts of self care, hot spring baths, trips to your favourite restaurants, etc. etc.

in the end, it's hard to feel upset when she's pampering you so much. she's always there for you, and she'll make sure you know it!

“d-don’t worry! i’m gonna help you feel better, okay? we’ll get through this—you and me! i’m here for you, every step of the way!”

— INOSUKE

inosuke has no idea how to deal with you when you’re upset. he barely understands his own emotions, so trying to figure out yours is extremely difficult.

he's confused at first. he looks around but there isn't any danger in sight, so he cannot understand why you are crying.

his first instinct is violence. by the time he sees your tears, he’s already got his swords in his hands, yelling at you to tell him where the threat is so he can destroy it for you. trying to explain to him that no, i’m just upset takes a while but he eventually gets it.

his second instinct is food. sharing food is his love language, so when he realizes you need comfort, he’s running off to find you something delicious to eat. whatever you like, he will track it down. something sweet? something sour? fried food? desserts? it’s on its way.

by the time he's returned, shoving a piece of the food straight into your mouth, you've already stopped crying. he'll wait patiently until you're finished eating—not even trying to steal bits of your food like he usually does.

only then will his third instinct will kick in: asking you directly what is wrong.

when you explain your issue, he returns to his first instinct. is someone messing with you? point him in their direction, he'll kick their ass. even if it's something less tangible, he's still prepared to physically fight it. burnout? grief? bad day? he has two swords for a reason, nothing is too tough for him!

it might be a little frustrating, explaining to him again that no, there is nothing to fight. please put your swords away, inosuke. but rest assured there is nothing but care and worry behind his brashness. he's upset that you're upset, but he doesn't quite know how to fix things, so he resorts to what he does know how to do. it irritates him to. o end, not being able to solve your issue because he wants to help you, truly.

unsurprisingly, he isn't the best at problem-solving with you. what he is good at is distractions.

remember when i said food is his love language? well his second one is roughhousing. it's like cuteness aggression, but in a friendship way. he sees you, and is so overcome with feelings of platonic love for you that he just sees red.

before you can blink, he's tackling you to the ground.

he'll get annoyed if you don't fight back, but he's surprisingly receptive to your limits. he doesn't push you too far or actually hurt you, he just enjoys the rush of adrenaline that play-fighting with his friends gives him. and if it serves to divert your attention, then that is just a bonus.

once you've had enough and shove him away, he just grins at you. with a seemingly endless supply of energy, he's pulling you to your feet and dragging you along on his next escapade, pushing your problems to the back of your mind in favour of whatever he has planned.

his logic is simple: if he can't help you sort out your problems, the least he can do is make you forget about them for a while. and that is exactly what he does.

“you're no fun when you're all sad like this. i want my friend back, so you gotta feel better soon, okay?”

© aviiarie 2024. do not copy, repost, translate or use my work to train ai.

[ash5monster01]

Learning to Love

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x FemReader!PlusSize

Warnings: 18+, langauge, angst, fluff, mentions of bullying, body image issues, fat shaming, fake relationship, eventual smut, minor enemies to lovers trope.

Summary: It's not uncommon for you to be shamed for your size, it is however uncommon to be told that no one would ever date you because of it. Rafe on the other hand is used to being called a jerk, that is until he is accused of seeing people for only what's on the surface. It's purely coicidental you two meet right after these accusations are thrown your way. So even though you two don't know each other, and probably never would've looked the others way before this, now you're both going to prove a point. It's simple really, prove others wrong and don't fall in love. Easier said than done.

word count: 3k

→ Part 1

Masterlist

You're used to crude comments, truly. Living in the Outer Banks has proven nothing other than the fact that kooks will always be cruel, even if it's towards other kooks. As long as you're in a bathing suit, something is going to be said. Which is proven true as you lie on the beach, book in hand, and sunglasses hung low on your nose. It's your only day off and you were going to enjoy it. Soak up the sun as much as you can because summer would fade away before you knew it. You had only chosen the two piece bathing suit to get more of a tan, maybe a little extra sun. It's only twenty pages into your book you hear two boys snickering not far from your own set up.

"Look a beached whale, should we call the authorities?" your ears burn red only slightly, after all you were used to it. Honestly you could care less anymore.

"God, she has to know that's gross" the other responds after his bellowing laughs have calmed down. They truly can't be that stupid they don't realize how loud they're talking right?

"No decent looking, hell self respecting man would ever date a girl like that" this punches the air out of your lungs. You knew your body type wasn’t considered attractive. This was common knowledge, but to hear someone say you couldn’t possibly ever date an attractive man is something else entirely.

“I know I wouldn’t” the boys laugh again, hands clapping together as they stare you down like you were the most disgusting thing on this beach.

You’re not upset about what they were saying. You survived highschool after all. Your school had already been divided by kooks and pogues, add in the big girl and that’s a recipe for disaster. You’ve heard the most vile and mean things a person could say. Somehow you came out of it with still a little self respect, hell even some confidence, because if you were anything at all it was strong. You had dated here and there, never had anything stick though. Maybe that’s why this comment resonated so hard with you. No matter how decent a person you meet maybe you’re bound to end up ugly and alone because an attractive man belongs with an attractive girl.

Rafe has had to attend hundreds of useless business meetings since his Dad died. He had wanted this. When he was nineteen and trying to prove to his Dad that he was worth it, but now he was gone. He had no one to impress anymore and at twenty three he carried the burden of being the CEO of an entire company with his last name on it. So that’s how he finds himself inside of dark clubs at noon, sharing a scotch with guys willing to play dirty to get what they want. He often wonders why he had wanted this life so badly. Everything he had believed in for so long was now gone. His Dad, the treasure, and now even kooks and pogues. Ever since his sister had found that treasue social classes had been practically eliminated or at least weren't acknowledged like they were before. All of this had now left Rafe without a sense of self and he desperatley needed something to change.

"Man, why can't they hire pretty waitresses to look at anymore?" Levi, a coworker slurred as he watched their waitress walk away. Rafe noticed her shoulders stiffen because she had heard what he had said. He hated he felt guilty over it.

"It's a bar, not a strip club" Matt, another coworker teased and Rafe rolled his eyes. Four years ago these guys could've been his best friends, and he would've teased the waitress right along with them. Now things were different, he was different.

"I happen to think she's cute" Rafe told them before finishing the last sip of his scotch. He knew when he got back to the office people would give disapproving looks but he didn't know what to do with himself anymore. It was like he was just floating and letting the tide drag him along wherever it wanted to.

"Yeah right" Matt snorted out a laugh and Rafe gave him a confused look as Levi started to laugh along with him.

"Seriously Rafe, you’re way out of her league" Levi told him, his shoulder bumping with his own.

"No I'm not and there is no such thing as leagues" Rafe told them with a pointed look but the boys just continued to laugh anyway.

"Yes there is and the only one's in Rafe Cameron's league are tall hot blondes with legs for miles and tan skin smooth enough slide on" Matt said and Rafe felt his stomach clench as they spoke. Had he unintentionaly maintained a type, only taken someone for their looks? Flashes of ex girlfriends went through his mind and he had realized after all this time he had only taken women for surface things.

“That can’t be true” Rafe shook his head and the boys just chuckled.

“Admit dude, you’re an asshole and you like pretty little things. Nothing wrong with that” Levi said as he slapped his back, taking another sip of his own scotch. Rafe however realized there was everything wrong with that. Yeah he’s been a jerk his whole life but had he ever actually dated a girl he liked? Someone with substance?

“Hell would freeze over the day Rafe Cameron dated someone other than a supermodel” Matt pointed with the scotch in his hand and Rafe just shook his head, eyes scanning over the small crowd that littered the bar. For the first time he was seeing people he never would’ve noticed before.

He wondered if this was a side effect of his life before. Privileged kook, popularity, a need to impress everyone around him. Had women become a part of all of that too? A side effect of a need to please, to be the best. Had he been wasting years of actually meeting someone with a personality due to his natural self destructive ways? God he hoped not. Then again he couldn’t recall ever really liking the girls he dated, he usually just tuned them out and used them when he needed to make an appearance with a date. He had never actually dated someone for fun. Worst of all he hated that everyone knew this of him. That he dated for appearance instead of happiness. He wanted to change that.

You could only take so much of the harassment coming from the two boys on the beach, so after three hours you declared you’d had enough sun and started to pack your things. When the cover up slipped over your head you didn’t miss the applause coming from them. Rolling your eyes you grabbed your bag and started the hike up the beach. You needed a drink.

Rafe hadn’t been able to shake the thoughts over the girls he dated. After a very long recollection of every girl he had ever brought around he couldn’t think of one he actually enjoyed spending time with. With this in mind he dismissed Matt and Levi back to the office, claiming he’d find a way back on his own. He needed more time to think about this, and a stiff drink to go along with it. So that’s how he found himself now sitting directly at the bar and not inside the dark booth. The whiskey in his hand suggested he wasn’t making it back to the office anytime soon.

Normally he wouldn’t remove his focus from the drink in his hands but when a bag is slapped on the counter top beside him he finds himself lifting his head. The girl claiming the seat beside him is dressed in stark contrast to his own attire. He’s still in his work suit, tie loosened around his neck, but the girl beside him has clearly just come from the beach. Her hair is wild and wrapped in a bun a top her head. A red bikini strap peaks out the collar of the white coverup. Her breasts had left wet spots slightly see through to the red fabric of her top, like she had left the beach in a rush.

“Hit me with the usual Randy” she calls to the bar keep and Rafe can’t tear his eyes away from her. She’s bigger, sure, but the dip of her hips and small pouted lips have Rafe every bit of intrigued. He can’t help the thought of her being a girl he might’ve never noticed before escape him. He wanted to notice her now.

“Rough day?” Randy smirks at her when he’s back, a tall glass with a dark liquid set in front of her. She takes a sip before responding.

“Every day is a rough day” she mutters and Randy just chuckles before walking off to serve other customers. It’s only when your eyes lock with his own Rafe realizes he has been staring this entire time. “Let me guess, you got something to say just like everyone else today”

“I, what?” Rafe doesn’t expect the coldness from you and how strong willed you are with it too. You aren’t scared of him, he isn’t used to that.

“Listen I’ve had my fill of assholes today so if you don’t have anything nice to say, keep it to yourself” you told him before turning back forward and taking a large gulp from the drink in your hand.

“Got someone bothering you?” Rafe asked finding his cool. He finally got himself to tear his eyes away from you, eyes scanning over the liquor bottles behind the bar. You turn to look at him, eyes drawn together in confusion.

“Not one specific person, everyone for some reason thinks they have the right to comment on my appearance” your words get him to turn back at you. Normally men don’t make you nervous but when you watch him eye you up and down you can’t help the way your heart accelerates.

“I happen to think you look just fine” the scoff that falls from your lips shocks him.

“I’m not looking for your pity, I happened to over hear today that no decent self respecting man would date me so let’s not lie to each other” you tell him and Rafe now feels the air knocked from his lungs. He can’t believe anyone would say that to you. Let alone to your face.

“If it makes you feel better I was told today that I only date woman for surface things” now you were the one drawing your eyebrows together in confusion, looking to the mystery of a man beside you.

“Surface things?” you question the stranger and he chuckles, his rings clinking on his whiskey glass.

“Appearances, apparently I’ve never looked deeper” this has you chuckling right along with him, lifting your own drink to your lips.

“Look at us then, two sides of the same coin. Makes you wonder if there really is anyone out there actually happy with who they ended up with” you say mostly to yourself, knowing this perfect stranger on a normal day would never look your way but you also would never find yourself thinking you had a chance with him.

“I think there is, at least the people who weren’t chewed up and spit out by the world” the optimism is what shocks you the most when he speaks. A hope for something better down in there.

“I wish I was one of those people” you find yourself saying and the boy turns to look at you again, eyes scanning over each of your features.

“Maybe we should prove them wrong” now you’re laughing, looking bewildered towards the boy beside you.

“And how do you suppose we do that?” you ask and he smirks, clearly having some sort of plan.

“We date. I prove to my coworkers that I date someone for more than just their looks and you prove to all those assholes that you can date a guy as good looking as me” he gestures to himself, as if his body is some of God’s best work. You scoff at his clear cheekiness but actually find yourself considering.

“I don’t even know your name” you laugh, trying to remind yourself that this ideal is completely absurd.

“Rafe Cameron, nice to meet you” his hand reaches across the bar, you take notice of how long his fingers are. With the shake of your head you find yourself putting your hand in his own.

“It’s not that simple” you tell him and he just smiles, dimples forming around his pressed together lips.

“Isn’t it though?” he says, a sparkle of amusement in his eyes and you sigh, finally removing your hand from his own.

“Date? As in fake date?” you ask and he nods, his head tipping to the side.

“Exactly, an agreement of sorts. We both benefit from each other, everything to gain and nothing to lose” he tells you like he’s already worked out every way this could end.

“We just met” you inform him and he shrugs, implying this wasn’t an issue.

“I’ve seen people date over less” he tells you and you sigh, holding your hand out to him. He looks are your empty palm confused and you quickly roll your eyes.

“You can’t take me out ion a date without my number dream boy” you tell him and he smirks while grabbing his phone out of his pocket and placing it in your hand. He watched as you meticulously open his contacts and punch in your number. You’ve named your contact ‘baby ❤️’ but he doesn’t get your real name until you type it into other names.

“Y/N? I like that” he smiles at you and you chuckle, clicking on the profile photo to take a selfie.

“We’re already off to a bad start if you want to stop liking people for just their surface things” he likes how quick witted you are and you don’t allow him a response as you lean into his personal space. “Can’t be a real girlfriend if I don’t have a profile picture in your phone”

You smile so easily and he instantly notices how beautiful it is. He’s not looking at the camera anymore but leaning in and taking in the sweet scent of your perfume mixed with the sunscreen and salty skin. You were like a walking beach and he loved that more than anything. That is how he finds his lips pressing softly against your cheek as the camera shutter clicks on his phone. Your body has chills that you have to brush off quickly as you look at the entirely real looking photo on his screen.

“If I didn’t like what was on the surface you would never be my fake girlfriend” he finally says as he takes his phone back before you could text yourself his number.

“I don’t like how easy this is for you. Are you sure I’m your first fake girlfriend?” you ask and he laughs, eyes falling on your face again.

“The first and the only” and you decide that coming into an agreement like this with a stranger shouldn’t be this simple.

“Then we need to lay some ground rules” this has him raising his eyebrows as you grab a napkin from the bar. He watches as you leaned over, searching for a pen behind the bar. Unashamedly he took the opportunity to inspect your ass, admiring the curve and thanking the see through fabric for revealing the cheeky bikini bottoms that laid over your large curves. He had never openly allowed himself to be attracted to a bigger girl. but now he was briefly wondering what it would be like to be suffocated by one.

“So, what’s these rules?” he smirked at you once you were sat back upright in your seat. He watched as you popped the cap off the pen with your teeth and leaving it in your mouth.

“Don’t worry pretty boy, I’ll keep them simple” you tell him, dropping the cap from you lips into the bar. He felt himself flush slightly at the nickname, watching as your neat and loopy handwriting moved across the napkin.

1. Must actively text/call/interact for a week before first “official” date.

2. PDA must be limited

3. Don’t catch feelings, no matter what

4. Attend whatever event your fake significant other asks of you

5. Most of all, don’t tell anyone, ever, that this is fake

“PDA must be limited?” you roll your eyes at the fact this was the only rule he questioned but you sign at the bottom of the napkin anyway.

“I don’t want to waste all of romantic gestures on something that isn’t real” you explain to him and he nods, sliding the napkin in front of him.

“I have a lot of work dinners I would like you to attend” he says as he signs the napkin.

“I’ll try my best” you tell him and now he’s furrowing his eyebrows at you.

“It’s your rule” he points at the napkin, more confused with you than when you first walked in here. “What could you possibly be busy with?”

“Work” you tell him and he still looks confused which you find adorable. Now rule number three only applies to you.

“Every night?” he questions and you chuckle as you return the pen to the other side of the bar.

“Usually, comes with the territory” and you laugh as he continues to try and process what you’re saying.

“What territory?” he asks and you smile, finishing the drink in front of you.

“My bar” and you gesture to the building around you. Rafe suddenly realizes why you know the names of the workers and why they know your usual drink order.

“You own this place?” and you nod, sliding off your seat and grabbing your bag. You also grab the napkin, now signed by you both.

“Don’t forget rule number one handsome” you tell him before heading towards the exit, determined to have a good rest of your day off. Rafe can only watch as you walk away, baffled any of what just happened actually occurred.

“Randy, I’m gonna need a refill”

Taglist: @sublimepenguinpeach-blog

Comment if you want to be added to the tag list :))

[fumifooms]

Firefly Wedding is so…

It’s so

It’s them. It’s "It’s just a firefly, they’re meant to die soon. Why should I care about the sick, or the poor?"

It’s "I was purposely trying to scare you and push you away to see how far you were willing to go with your act, how desperate you were to play with my feelings as if I was a fool, but it didn’t work."

It’s "I know you’re just using me but now I care. Please keep using me. I need you to need me."

It’s choosing to give her her freedom anyways. Because your love is no longer all about you, no longer selfish. Because this love isn’t just a shallow balm to soothe your complexes anymore.

It’s being betrayed, finally facing the lies and no longer pretending you both don’t know that this is a farce, but desperately wanting to keep it going anyways. It’s "I should hate you now. Why don’t I? Hey, tell me we’ll go through with the plan, tell me you’ll marry me after all. Otherwise, why am I still here? Why don’t I want to leave? You act like you don’t need me but I still need you."

Like that’s so revolutionary for a yandere story. The self-delusion is strong, denial that things have changed despite it being impossible to truly believe, BUT HE STAYS. It’s no longer selfish 😭😭

"I don’t care about you anymore, I won’t help you. Get yourself killed for all I care." <- Jumps to her rescue 3 milliseconds later when she almost falls down a ladder/roof. It happens twice. The ‘lying and trying to emotionally distance yourself from something to protect yourself and not get hurt’ defense mechanism is blatant and it’s failing really bad.

It’s "My sense of duty and goals to have accomplished something useful in my short life are making me do this, but I do want you to stay with me." The yandere stuff here gets turned on its head because what he says is empty where it matters and meaningful where it matters. It’s knowing that if Satoko asks him not to kill anyone he won’t, but knowing that he won’t give up on her no matter what, even if she’s unattainable, even if she’s sickly, even if she pushes him away like just before. It’s so thinly veiled for "I’m determined to see my goal through, but that’s not what I want. If you just so happen to take me away and I don’t try to run away hard enough then we can elope and be free. I want to have an excuse to leave with you. Please give up on marrying me. Please don’t. I want that, but I can’t."

It’s "If I didn’t burn brightly in my short firefly life, then what was the point?"

Except that burning brightly doesn’t have to mean making big achievements, or being useful to your family.

It can be living happily, living for the ones you love, fighting for them. It can be worth to risk it for things that actually matter to you.

It’s giving your heart to someone, figuratively and literally. To lend it to them even if it might get used or battered, for as long as it beats to use your body to protect them, even if you have to sacrifice yourself. A love that burns bright into a bonfire before they both turn to ashes. Unwise but wholehearted.

It’s despite even that, needing grandiose gestures to be able to trust that this is real. It’s needing external cues that prove it to feel safe in their love existing, other people to confirm that he’s not crazy, that this is happening and this is how they both feel. Their love has been fake, both being a warped love and being a lie, only being out of necessity or because the other was the only one willing to offer it to them, offering comfort, safety, support and care. And showing that they care is the most loving of all. It’s despite everything falling back into old habits that "Oh if she was miserably worried for me then that means she’s not indifferent to me! That’s good!" And then once again being taken aback by her, by her earnestness and by her will. Because oh, no, this goes deeper than that. She cares. It’s love.

It’s opening your heart up to love, and both being punished and rewarded for it.

But most of all it’s

And it being the most loving thing he’d ever heard

Firefly Wedding is so…

And yet it’s also

The complicated and hurtful nature of love and the joy and light it brings are two sides of the same coin, because that’s what inevitably happens when you care about something. But caring about a firefly isn’t a waste even however short lived it is, or how hard the loss will inevitably hit you. Isn’t their light just such a wonder to witness?