#when i say that i want to be overwhelmed by his touch this is what i mean

[insidekatmind]

An important proposal~Jude Bellingham

Wearning: +18, smut.

The Dubai sun is shining brightly, and you feel the warm breeze caressing your skin as you walk along the resort’s private beach. Finally, after a year together, this is your first vacation just the two of you. It was his idea to choose Dubai, away from the paparazzi and fans, and now, seeing him relaxing on a lounger, you know he made the perfect choice.

You’re wearing your favorite bikini, the one he loves. It’s a little daring, you know, but it’s exactly what you wanted: to capture his full attention. You notice his gaze on you from afar. He’s staring at you without even trying to hide it, sunglasses pulled low on his nose as a sly smile forms on his lips.

“You look amazing,” he says when you get closer, his voice deep and warm as always.

You stop in front of him, hands on your hips, and look up at him with a sly smile. “Just a show? I thought I was so much more.”

He stands up from the lounger, moving closer. He gently takes your hand, his touch firm and reassuring. “You’re so much more,” he murmurs, his eyes twinkling as he scans you. “But honestly, in that bikini… you’re testing my ability to keep my cool.”

You laugh, feeling incredibly comfortable with him. “I thought we were here to relax, not test each other.”

“Being with you is relaxing,” he replies, looking down at your lips. “But you constantly remind me why you’re the most incredible woman I’ve ever met.”

Your heart races as he pulls you closer, his hands gently resting on your hips. “Maybe we should take a bath,” you suggest, trying to divert attention, even though deep down you enjoy being the center of his world.

“Yes, but only if you promise that we’ll lie on the sand together and watch the sunset afterwards,” he says, his tone a mix of sweetness and desire.

The two of you spend the afternoon in the clear water, laughing and playing like two teenagers in love. Every now and then you notice his eyes returning to you, and you feel beautiful under his gaze.

As the sun begins to set, he surprises you by leading you to a gazebo set up on the beach. The table is decorated with candles and rose petals, and the view of the sea at sunset makes everything even more magical.

"I can't believe you planned all this," you say, sitting down and looking up at him with gratitude.

"I wanted this vacation to be perfect," he replies, taking your hand on the table. "This is our first time alone, away from everything. I want you to know how much you mean to me."

You feel overwhelmed with emotion, but manage to reply, "It doesn't matter where we are, Jude. As long as we're together, it's perfect to me."

You exchange a smile that says it all, and as the sky turns orange and pink, you feel like in that moment nothing could be more perfect than the two of you.

He leans over the table slightly, his gaze softening as he takes you in. the flickering candlelight dances across his features, emphasizing the gentleness in his eyes.

"you know, there's something I've been wanting to ask you," he says quietly, his voice carrying a hint of vulnerability.

"what love?" you ask softly.

Jude takes a deep breath, his fingers lightly tracing patterns on the back of your hand. there's a flicker of nerves in his eyes, but his touch remains steady. "it's... a big question," he begins, his gaze meeting yours. "something that's been on my mind for a while now."

You look at him waiting for him to speak. His nerves are more prominent now, but he tries to keep his voice steady. his fingers continue to hold onto yours, almost like an anchor to his nervous tension."you know I love you, right?" he asks, a note of tenderness in his voice. "how much do you mean to me?"

You no longer look at him. Jude smiles slightly at your affirmative response, but there's still a hint of hesitation in his eyes. he takes another deep breath, gathering his thoughts. "i've been thinking about our future," he says, his voice quieter now. "about us. and i...i want to ask you something."

"What love?" you asked softly as you looked at him lovingly.

Jude looks at you intently, nerves still fluttering in his eyes. he's quiet for a moment, as if steeling himself for your answer.

"i...i was thinking... about getting married," he finally says, the words tumbling out like a flood. "i know it's soon, but...i can't imagine my life without you. i want us to build a future together. i want to spend the rest of my life with you."

You smiled sweetly and moved closer to him, straddling him while caressing his bare chest 'marriage?' you smiled sweetly. "Mr. Bellingham, I like the sound of that."

As you straddle him, he instinctively puts his hands on your hips, holding you close. a look of relief washes over his features at your words, and his eyes soften visibly.

"you mean it?" he asks softly, his voice filled with a mixture of awe and excitement. "you'd...you'd actually marry me?"

You give him a kiss on the jaw. "Yes love, I will marry you" you say excitedly.His arms wrap around you tightly, pulling you even closer as he savors your words and your closeness. a mixture of happiness and relief washes over him, and he buries his face against your neck for a moment, inhaling deeply."you just made me the happiest man alive," he murmurs into your skin. "we're really doing this, aren't we?"

You hum in response and kiss him as you position yourself better astride him not caring that you're on a beach. Jude moans softly against your lips, his hands gripping at your hips slightly, holding you in place. He's acutely aware of your position, but the thrill of it only adds to the heat blossoming between you. Jude deepens the kiss, his tongue tasting you with a combination of sweetness and growing desire.

You grind against him while kissing him and pulling his hair, Jude groans louder, his body responding almost involuntarily to your movements. His hands on your hips start to guide your movements, holding you tighter against him as you pull his hair. The intimacy of the moment is heightened by the fact that you both are on the beach, your bodies shielded only by the soft light of the lanterns. "you're driving me crazy," he mumbles between kisses, his voice hoarse with desire

You gently detach yourself from his lips without ever moving away "I love you Jude" you say and go back to kissing him continuing to move your hips on him his eyes flutter closed at your words, a look of raw emotion passing across his face. when you return to kissing him, he responds hungrily, his tongue tangling with yours.

You can feel the effect your movements are having on him as he grips you tighter, his body responding eagerly to your every touch."i love you too," Jude whispers against your lips, his words filled with a mixture of love and desire. "more than you can possibly imagine."

You smile and ride him on his beach bed the contact between your private parts covered with your costumes makes you moan .

Jude leans back on the beach bed, his hands still resting on your hips as you move against him. the friction between you is maddening, even through the thin layers of fabric. His body is taut with want, and your every movement elicits a deep moan from him. "you have no idea what you're doing to me," he groans, his eyes darkened with desire and lust.

Jude reaches up, his fingers tangling in your hair as he pulls you down so your face is right above his. he looks at you, his eyes burning with need and love."i need you," he whispers, his voice rough with want. "now."

You pull down his swimsuit and you move your swimsuit bottoms a little as you position yourself on top of him "so big" you murmur trying not to moan loudly.

Jude gasps softly as you move over him, your words sending a jolt of pleasure and need through his body. his hands grip you tighter, his fingers digging into your skin as he tries to hold on to control."you always know how to drive me crazy," he mutters huskily, his eyes fixated on you. "now you're just teasing me."

you let him enter you and lean on his muscular arms. Jude guides himself into you, holding you against him with a deep, guttural moan. his arms wrap around you, his muscles bunching as he tries to keep his own balance under your touch.

"oh god," he groans, his breath coming out in ragged gasps. "you feel so good,you're always so tight babydoll".

Jude buries his face against your neck, his lips trailing kisses down your skin as he slowly starts to move, holding you close against him. The feeling of you enveloping him is almost maddening, and he struggles to hold on to his control."i could never get enough of you," he murmurs into your ear, his voice soft and rough. "everytime it's like the first time."

You moan and try to move your hips faster but jude stops them gently. "no love i want to make love to you, i don't want it to be just a simple fuck" he says softly kissing your neck.

Your moan is cut short as he gently restrains your hips, his words sending a mix of surprise and desire through you. You can feel the earnestness in his words as he nuzzles your neck, his kisses soft and tender against your skin."i want it to be special," he whispers, his breath warm against your ear. "just us. nothing else.

Jude keeps his movements steady and slow, savoring every moment, every touch. there's a gentle, sensuous rhythm to his movements that makes you shiver with pleasure. Jude holds you close, his eyes locked on yours, the depth of his love and desire for you clearly visible."you're so beautiful," he whispers, his voice thick with emotion. "and you're all mine."

"All yours Jude, I love you. I'm so lucky to be your wife" you moaned softly as Jude guided your movements gently .

He moans in response to your words, the truth and passion in them sending a wave of heat through him. his hand moves to your face, his thumb brushing against your cheek as he slows his movements even further, drawing out the moment."and i'm the luckiest man alive to have you as my wife," Jude murmurs, his eyes glimmering with tenderness and love. "nothing could ever compare to this moment, with you in my arms, like this."

You smile and kiss him softly as your bodies continue to move forgetting that you are on a beach. Jude kisses you back softly, his lips lingering on yours for a moment. the sound of the waves and the soft breeze around you adds to the intimacy of the moment, making it feel like the whole world has faded away, leaving just you and him in this perfect moment."i'd stay like this forever if i could," he whispers against your lips, his body still moving gently with yours.

His hands roam over your body, touching you gently, his fingertips tracing patterns on your skin. the desire between you is tangible, but underneath it all, there's a tenderness and a deep, soul-bonding love."i'm never going to get enough of you," Jude says, his voice little more than a ragged whisper. "you're everything to me."

You moan softly as you feel him increase the speed of his movements a little. "Jude is so beautiful" He responds to your moan by moving a little faster, the desire building between you. he looks at you with a mixture of love and lust, his eyes dark with need.

"so are you," Jude pants softly, his voice thick with emotion. "you're the most beautiful thing I've ever laid my eyes on. and you're all mine now."

Your heart warms hearing those words and you blush "i've always been yours jude". He smiles gently and caress your blushing cheek. Your words send a wave of love through him, and he can't help but lean in to kiss you again. the moment is electric, filled with the intense connection between you both.

"i know," Jude whispers softly, his voice gentle and caring. "and you always will be. because there's never been anyone for me but you. and there's never going to be."

He kisses you back just as sweetly, his arms wrapping around you tightly as you both reach the peak together. he gently caresses your back, his own body still shuddering with the intensity of the moment.

"i love you so much," he murmurs against your lips, his voice soft and filled with tenderness. "nothing will ever change that."

A/n: Appreciation for the post Jude made. He so beautiful!

[perdidosbucky-yyo]

This might be my fav chapter yet!!!! 😩🙌🏼🙌🏼🙌🏼🙌🏼

Bucky traded lazy kisses with you as your tears slowed, and you had no idea if it was his mouth that had your heart pounding and the crushing weight of everything that surrounded him.

Tingles, tingles everywhere 🥴😩 I just love their hold and pull dynamic it's addicting

“You’re putting a wall up,” he said, frowning as you grabbed your phone charger before he could. “Don’t shut me out, please.”

What does he expect?!! (I still felt a pang in my heart when he said this)

“This has been a lot, all of it, but we can’t go back and change it, and you know I can’t let you go because we’re meant to be together,” he said, his eyes searching yours. “You feel it. I know you do.”

How many times would he say that until you agreed? “Just because you think fate stepped in-”

How does he manage to sound unhinged and reasonable at the same time? 😭 I'm honestly starting to see his point

Bucky was hot on your heel and you didn't make it two steps out the door before he had a hand on you. “You’re upset with me. Putting up more of that wall.”

that wall 😩 he clearly despises the wall she puts up, he's had a tiny taste of her kind and vulnerable side and can't stand the thought of going back, he wants her vulnerable, raw, exposed, all to himself :')

“And you can push all you want, but I’ll just pull you closer,” he smiled, making you huff when he actually did so. “I’m not afraid to let you burn me.”

THIS MAN 💀 we're gonna die in his arms aren't we?

“Because even arguing with you makes me happy,” he sincerely stated. “And now all I want to do is find a way to put a smile back on your face.”

Ok but why does this make me so happy???

“You’re infuriating,” you whispered when he touched the corner of your mouth and made it twitch in a small smile. “Impossible.”

“I know,” he whispered back, running a hand through his hair. “Listen, you’re tired and you’re overwhelmed, which is completely my fault. Am I right?”

He was placating you now, and it was sadly working. “Fine,” you said, touching his hand, the metal one. “I don’t think I said so earlier, but thank you for finally telling me the truth,” you said, calmer than you were moments before.

HOW DID HE DO THAT???? RUNNING A HAND THROUGH HIS HAIR??? His hand on the corner of her lips??? I'M SAT. I was literally just as mad as reader and he really managed to calm me down too 🤯 excellent writing bestie

This was nothing like the slow, languid kisses from minutes ago. This was dominant, claiming, threatening to rob you of the air in your lungs, like he wanted you to feed your own breath into him. He either forgot Ray was there, or he simply didn’t care.

I- 🥴 this man doesn't care if she hates him or not does he? He's like a predator playing with his food, but at the same time he's so soft and wants nothing but to make her happy🥺.... My toxic trait is that I love him 🫡

“You're certainly keeping him on his toes,” Ray said, not driving off until he made sure Bucky was in his vehicle, too.

I could say the same thing about you Navy😩😂😂

I'm so scared of what comes next with Clark, he gives me the creeps jsjsjs more than Bucky tbh😂

But wow reader is learning to tame her beast and I'm so excited to see how that goes 😏

Hold You Tight: Part 16

Pairing: Club Owner!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Fic Summary: The owner of The 107th wants you to be his girl whether you like it or not.

Part 15 | Series Masterlist | Part 17

Chapter Word Count: Over 5.4k

Chapter Summary: Bucky tries to pull you closer when you want to pull away, and someone else in your life my not take no for an answer.

Chapter Warnings: DARK AU, arguing, tension, slight harassment, kissing, reference to stalking, inner turmoil, manipulation, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?), more warnings to come.

A/N: More Hold You Tight! Thank you for sticking with me! Bucky edit by the beautiful @nixakimbo ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky traded lazy kisses with you as your tears slowed, and you had no idea if it was his mouth that had your heart pounding and the crushing weight of everything that surrounded him. It was so much to unpack. Every encounter with him seemed to be that way. Something blindsided you or suffocated you, but you hadn't been at all prepared for what he just shared. And how could you? He didn't keep photos of his mother around, and you hadn't gone poking around online.

Would you have found out the truth if you had?

He followed your lips when you pulled away. “It’s okay,” he whispered, pulling you back in.

It wasn’t okay. Nothing was okay. Though it partially made sense now why he was moving so fast. He believed if he met you then that you would've fallen in love and been together to this day. Because he didn't seek you out then and lost so much time, he was packing everything into a rushed time span. Dating, meeting his friends, getting you into his place. He was moving things along at an accelerated speed, and you were barely keeping up with the ride.

“No.” The muffled word against his lips somehow rang out loud and clear enough for him to stop, but you put a hand on his chest in case he tried to lean in again. “Why are you punishing me?”

His eyes rounded. “You think I’m punishing you? Jesus, why would you think that?”

“Because of how you went about all of this. I know you were desperate, and I get the drive behind some of your actions now,” you said, which you refused to excuse. You got it but couldn’t excuse it. “Your response of ‘where’s the fun in that?’ when I said you couldn’t just ask me out like a normal person? You almost seemed to delight in intimidating me. Why?”

If you saved his mom, why do this?

“I didn’t delight in that. I played it wrong,” he admitted in a quiet voice, surprising you. “I approached it like…”

“Like everything else in your life where you have everyone under your thumb through fear. You did the same thing to me.” You laughed just a little. “In a way, it worked because I’m officially afraid to try to leave you.”

Had things blossomed between you two organically, you’d like to believe that things would’ve been better. Healthy. There was always the chance that a relationship might’ve come to an end because life was like that. But if he frightened you enough to stay forever, he’d never have to worry. The stars would still align as far as he was concerned.

“I don’t want you to fear me or what we have,” he whispered, reaching for you as you scooted back.

“What we have? Tell me, do you think your mom would be proud of your actions to obtain me or ashamed?” You couldn’t believe that was the kind of man she raised, to put fear into the heart of the person he supposedly loved.

He flinched. Actually flinched. You might as well have raised a hand to him. “She…” He swallowed. “She would’ve wanted us together.”

“Like this? By you not giving me a choice?” you asked, pushing yourself up. “I need to go home.” There would be no getting through to him and this revelation was doing your head in. One cup of coffee wasn't enough either.

He got up to follow you. “Why are you rushing off?”

“I have a shift today, and I have to go home and shower,” you said, grabbing some of your things. “Don’t worry about dropping me off. I’ll get a cab.”

“What? No, you-”

“You put money in my account, so it’s not like I have to worry about paying for it. And it’s not like I’ll be alone either since you’ll have me followed whether I want it or not,” you said as a matter of fact.

“You’re putting a wall up,” he said, frowning as you grabbed your phone charger before he could. “Don’t shut me out, please.”

“I’m not shutting you out. I’m trying to process the gigantic bombshell you dropped on me,” you said, stopping to look at him when he grabbed your arm. “Bucky-”

“This has been a lot, all of it, but we can’t go back and change it, and you know I can’t let you go because we’re meant to be together,” he said, his eyes searching yours. “You feel it. I know you do.”

How many times would he say that until you agreed? “Just because you think fate stepped in-”

“Fate brought you into my club, but I gave it a much-needed push to bring us together after leaving things to chance for so long,” he said, tugging you closer and putting his other hand on your cheek. “You can’t tell me you don’t care about me in some capacity. You’re just afraid to admit it because it isn’t conventional in your eyes, but you don’t have to be afraid of how you feel.”

How could you truly fall in love with him when he orchestrated everything from the start? “Feelings or not you’re still going to force me to move in with you soon, and that scares me,” you said. Your wings would forever be clipped.

“We should’ve been living together and married by now,” he argued, keeping a tight hold on you. “I know I’m making you move in sooner than you want, but beyond safety it’ll give us a chance to really know each other before we get married.”

Talk of marriage had your heart thudding. The man would probably force you to marry him sooner than you wanted. “You said you already know everything about me,” you said. At least he thought he knew you. The vision of you he built up in his mind scared you, too. He couldn’t keep you on that pedestal.

“But you don’t fully know me yet, and I don’t know what it’s like to live with you. The experience will bring us closer together.” His smile was full of hope. “We can read together, do movie nights, dance in the kitchen.”

“Bucky-”

“We can exercise together, in and out of bed,” he continued, your breath hitching as he rubbed his nose against yours. “Don’t you already feel closer to me now that you know we're meant to be?”

A quick knock on the door followed by a long one saved you from answering. “It isn't check-out time, is it?”

“No. That would be Ray,” Bucky headed to the door and kept you back a small distance before he answered. The man really was protective, wasn't he?

“I’m sorry to intrude,” Ray said, giving you a polite nod before he leaned in and whispered something to Bucky. Whatever was said to him made his face harden. The entire change in his demeanor worried you.

“Kotyonok, let’s get your bag and get you back to your place so you can get ready for work,” he suggested, his smile tight.

“What’s the matter?” you asked.

“I’ll tell you later,” he answered, kissing your forehead. “And before we go, I know you suggested taking a cab, but please let Ray take you back to your place. It would make me feel better.”

The hint of a plea in his voice and the look in Ray’s eyes kept you from protesting. “Fine, Ray can take me home. Just give me a second to change out of these pajamas,” you said, a bit surprised that Bucky wasn’t offering to take you home himself. “But you are going to tell me later what’s going on, right?” you asked.

“I will, but I need some answers myself first. Get changed. I’ll get your bag,” he said, gently guiding you to the bathroom so you could change and officially ending that conversation.

Ray was still by the entry door once you came out, looking a bit stiffer than usual, too. You stole a glance at Bucky as the three of you headed to the elevator, catching the anger etched in his features as he gripped your bag handle tight enough that you thought it would rip. They were leaving you in the dark about something. You weren’t sure if you could take any other bombshells.

“Ray may need to pick you up from work instead of me, but I’ll message you if that’s the case,” Bucky said, fixing his hair in the elevator reflection. “And… we may need to talk about your girls’ day out.”

“What about it?” you asked, already knowing where he was going with this.

“If you can cancel or reschedule it,” he replied.

You stared hard at him. Where was that coming from? “No, it's tomorrow, and I’m not cancelling or rescheduling. And don’t you dare use Zemo as an excuse to get your way,” you snapped. Even if it was a valid reason, you didn’t want to hear it.

His jaw clenched, but he looked sad as he glanced at you. “I just don’t know if it’s a good idea.”

“We talked about this. If it’s a safety issue, Ray agreed that someone could watch out for me. That should keep me safe,” you reminded him. You’d be fine. “Right, Ray?”

The blonde stared straight ahead. “That isn’t my decision,” he said apologetically.

Your shoulders slumped. For a short time, you thought he could be on your side or at least help give you some slack. “Right. Because you don't get to make decisions, and neither do I. You’re a bodyguard, I’m just a doll,” you said, looking straight ahead, too, and pulling your hand back when Bucky tried to take it. “Please, don’t.”

“Kotyonok…” Bucky sighed as the door opened. You marched out, not waiting for either of them. “Wait.”

You headed straight for the desk, feeling sadder when you didn’t see Natasha. “Checking out, please,” you said, sliding the room card over to the woman standing there.

“Of course. I hope you enjoyed your stay.” She looked behind you likely at Bucky before giving you a smile. “Ms. Romanoff also wanted to remind you that you have a place here if you need one.”

“I’m sure I’ll take her up on that soon,” you said, turning your head to glare at Bucky. While his expression was stoic, his eyes told you he didn’t want you to be upset with him. “And make sure she adds an inconvenience fee to the damaged wall bill. She’ll know what I mean.”

“I’ll be sure to do that,” she smiled. “Take care.”

Bucky was hot on your heel and you didn't make it two steps out the door before he had a hand on you. “You’re upset with me. Putting up more of that wall.”

You didn't speak until Ray walked past you to get his car. “You’re trying to get me to cancel my day out with my friends, after you went through the whole charade of buying me a new dress for it and everything. And after what you told me about your mom.” You took a breath to try to calm down. “Yeah, I’m upset, and yeah, you’re supplying me with the very bricks to build that wall.”

“I said we may need to talk about it, I didn’t flat out say you weren’t going,” he corrected you. He might as well have. “I know it means a lot to you, but-”

You held a hand up. “No. There are no ‘buts’ in this. For all you keep taking from me, I don’t ask for much. I really don't,” you stated. In fact, you’ve shown lots of restraint. “Who knows how many moments I’ll get like this with my friends once you move me in.” He wasn’t about to take this small thing from you after everything.

He titled his head. “You think I’ll keep you from them?”

“Part of me thinks you will, yes. Because as soon as I think that there’s hope, the second I think that we could be closer together while you loosen the reins, you say or do something that puts me back in your full control,” you said. He had to see that. “And every time you do that, like you are right now, it makes me want to push you away.”

“And you can push all you want, but I’ll just pull you closer,” he smiled, making you huff when he actually did so. “I’m not afraid to let you burn me.”

“You keep saying that. Give me a match or a lighter and we’ll test that theory,” you said. He burst out laughing, the sound loud in the morning air as your eyes widened. “Why are you laughing?” you asked incredulously. How could he laugh when you were still worked up?

“Because even arguing with you makes me happy,” he sincerely stated. “And now all I want to do is find a way to put a smile back on your face.”

You exhaled. He was so in love with the idea of a relationship with you that arguments appealed to him? Anyone else would've walked away by now.

“You’re infuriating,” you whispered when he touched the corner of your mouth and made it twitch in a small smile. “Impossible.”

“I know,” he whispered back, running a hand through his hair. “Listen, you’re tired and you’re overwhelmed, which is completely my fault. Am I right?”

“Yes,” you sighed. He hit it right on the nose.

“And maybe I was rash in suggesting that you cancel your plans, but I need to take care of a couple things before we discuss that more,” he said, leading you to Ray's car before you could protest. “You just have a good shift, okay?”

He was placating you now, and it was sadly working. “Fine,” you said, touching his hand, the metal one. “I don’t think I said so earlier, but thank you for finally telling me the truth,” you said, calmer than you were moments before. He should've told you from the start, but it couldn't have been easy reopening old wounds regarding his dad.

His gaze softened. “Thank you for letting me.”

“And whatever Ray told you or whatever’s going on, just breathe, okay?” you begged.

He took a deep breath. “I’ll just think of you and it’ll help,” he said, adding in a low voice as he pulled you against him. “And this.”

This was nothing like the slow, languid kisses from minutes ago. This was dominant, claiming, threatening to rob you of the air in your lungs, like he wanted you to feed your own breath into him. He either forgot Ray was there, or he simply didn’t care.

By the time Bucky stopped kissing you and helped you into the car, you didn’t want to look either of them in the eye.

“I love you,” he whispered, kissing your temple and shutting the door as your heart flip flopped. God, he was insufferable. Confusing. Obsessed.

“You're certainly keeping him on his toes,” Ray said, not driving off until he made sure Bucky was in his vehicle, too.

“Someone has to,” you said, staring out the window. “I’m going with my friends tomorrow. I don't care if he makes you drag me back,” you said. Unless your life was in some sort of immediate danger, there was no reason for you to skip out on meeting up with the girls.

“So you’re aware, the suggestion of you moving your day out has nothing to do with wanting to control you. He’s upset because of the news I delivered and he wants to keep you close,” Ray explained, making you feel a little bad.

“So, that news was the reason why you both changed your tune, and you can't tell me what that news is,” you guessed. If you were in some sort of danger though, surely Bucky would’ve said so. “He told me about his mom. How I saved her.”

Silence filled the vehicle. “So, you know the truth,” he said after a minute, his voice neutral. “Are you okay?”

“I’m trying to be,” you answered carefully. You really were.

“That’s all you can do,” he said before adding under his breath, “No good deed goes unpunished.”

You snorted. “I guess I'm living breathing proof of that.” It was ironic how an act of kindness put you on this path. “And as much as I don't like to wish pain upon people, I hope Bucky's dad got whatever he deserved.”

Winnie, from the short time you knew her, was nothing but wonderful. Bucky said the dahlia painting in his office served as a reminder that he would never do to you what his dad did to his mom. He would never set you up to take the fall for anyone else, wouldn’t let someone else hurt you if he could help it. He would forever stand by you.

Was pushing him away doing you any good?

“He did,” Ray promised you. “And I say with complete sincerity that I hope today is very uneventful for you after the time you've had.”

Your nose scrunched as you laughed. “So do I, Ray. So do I.”

Ray was kind enough to wait outside of your place as you showered and got ready for work, and didn't push you to talk more before he dropped you off at the shop. He was even kind enough to stop so you could get another cup of coffee. It helped improve your mood.

“There she is!” Kate smiled when you walked in. “Little miss not-so-single anymore.”

“Hey,” you giggled before you paused. “I didn't know you were working today. Did you switch shifts with someone?”

“God, the schedule’s all messed up. Mrs. Crandle called out for some business thing-”

“Business thing?” you asked, your brows pinched. She hardly ever took time off for things like vacation let alone a business thing without informing her staff.

“Yeah, I’m not really sure about all the details, but Lorraine ended up switching the whole schedule around. Mya’s coming in later, and I had to come in early, and your shift’s ending early.”

“What?” you frowned, checking the schedule to make sure. She was right. Your shift today was almost cut in half. “Would’ve been nice to get a text or something.”

The assistant manager wasn't bad to work with, but she could be a little forgetful with things like that. If Bucky hadn't just put money in your account, you may have been more upset over having half a shift cut. After the night and morning you had though, maybe an afternoon off wouldn't be so bad.

“She probably forgot since you were coming in at your normal time. Who knows?” Kate shrugged. “You know, I half expected Clark to be here waiting for you. Seemed really eager to see you yesterday.”

“Yeah, about that.” You looked toward the door, your body tense in anticipation even though he wasn't there. “Why did you tell him I was working today?”

“He’s kind of a regular, and I didn't really think about it. Then Mrs. Crandle brought up your boyfriend and…” Her face fell as she stopped cutting stems, which made you feel bad when she glanced your way. “Crap, I did something wrong, didn't I?”

You weren’t about to go into specifics regarding your personal situation. “I just don’t want customers to know when my shifts are unless I’m specifically working on an order or event for them, okay?” you said, hoping she understood that it was a general request.

Bucky was not getting in your head about your safety.

“Okay, as long as you aren’t mad,” she said. You gave her a smile to assure her that you were okay. “So, tell me about your new boyfriend.”

You filled her in as much as you could to make it sound believable, just like you had with Addison. Like her and Mrs. Crandle, Kate was excited for you. And they would never know the full truth.

As your shift went on, you were surprised you hadn't heard much from Bucky. It was for the best though. He was clearly dealing with something. As much as you didn't want to defend him in your mind, it had taken a lot for him to talk about his parents. To show you some of the damage done to his body. It was a vulnerable moment. Did you owe it to him to be vulnerable, too?

Wait, why did you owe him anything?

“Heading out?” Kate asked once your shift was up.

“Yeah,” you replied, glancing at your phone. You wondered if you should text Bucky before you decided against it. You'd let him know once you got to your place that you wouldn't need a ride. “Just call me if you need me to come back in.”

“Don’t worry about that. Enjoy the rest of your day!” she smiled.

Satisfied when you didn't see Bucky or Ray’s car waiting for you either, you decided to take a walk. It was a nice day, and you needed the fresh air. You hoped the weather was nice for the winery. You’d have to take photos to look back on what was going to be a fun time.

“Hey!” you heard someone shout after a few minutes of walking.

You stopped when you spotted Clark waving at you from the other side of the street. You barely waved back before he joined you. “Hey. What are you doing here?”

“Oh, I was just in the neighborhood,” he smiled, pushing his glasses up. “You done working already?”

“Yep,” you said, adjusting your bag. “And I should really-”

“Could we talk for a minute?” he asked.

You hesitated before nodding. “Sure,” you said, falling in step beside him.

“You know, I actually went to the shop to buy you flowers yesterday. I was going to buy you some roses,” he smiled.

Oh, God. “You were?”

“Yeah, but you weren’t there and… It doesn’t matter,” he smiled, shoving his hands in his pockets. “But I was thinking… Maybe we could grab a coffee sometime? My treat.”

The hopeful look in his eyes made a pit form in your stomach. “Clark, I’m seeing someone,” you said, his blue eyes dimming. Hadn’t Kate said that Mrs. Crandle brought up that you were in a relationship? “It’s fairly new, and I don’t want to mess things up,” you explained, though he wasn’t owed an explanation.

“I didn’t want to believe it,” he mumbled, kicking a small rock on the sidewalk. “Well, if it’s fairly new, I'm sure you can get coffee with other people.”

“Get coffee with people? Yes. But this kind of sounds like a date, and I don’t think that’s a good idea. I’m sorry,” you said. That would feel like cheating even if you didn't consider it a date, and you weren't that kind of person.

“Then we won’t call it a date,” he grinned.

Maybe you were feeling paranoid, but there was something weird behind his smile. “You just got out of a relationship, and I don’t want to send mixed signals by agreeing to go with you.”

His smile shook a bit. “It's just a coffee.”

“Is it?” The longer he stared, the more odd things felt, and you didn’t like it. “Listen, when you find someone else to give flowers to I’d be happy to pick some out for you.”

“I don't understand.” He laughed, but it sounded bitter. “You’ve always been nice to me.”

“Well, yeah. You’ve always been kind, too, when you come into the shop.”

“Too nice for someone like Bucky Barnes,” he muttered, his smile disappearing completely.

You gaped at him, almost faltering in your step. “What did you just say?”

“I said you’re too nice for someone like Bucky Barnes,” he said louder, his ire clear as day. “You think I don’t know about his reputation? He’s dangerous, and you’re too good for him.”

“How do you know I’m dating him?” you asked. And what did he know about his reputation?

He was quiet for a moment. “Mrs. Crandle said his name, and she has no idea what kind of man he is,” he said, making you feel uneasy. “I don’t think you do either.”

Oh, you knew plenty. “I appreciate your concern, really, but it’s nothing for you to worry about.”

“Well, I do. And I just don’t see why we can’t have one cup of coffee together,” he said, flashing a smile again. “It’ll be fun.”

“Because you know I’m seeing someone,” you said. He knew it before he bumped into you, but was still pushing for you to go with him. “And I also kind of make it a rule not to date customers,” you added, stopping when you got to your building. You walked faster than you thought.

“Well, rules should have exceptions, right? And if Bucky cared so much, where is he? Why wasn’t he waiting to pick you up and take you home?” he pressed, his eyes narrowing when you dug into your purse. “Maybe he doesn’t care about you as much as you think.”

Your next breath came out shaky. He hadn’t raised his voice at you, but you didn’t appreciate the third degree, or the implication that Bucky didn’t care. “Because he’s a busy man who sometimes works both days and nights. I don’t expect him to drop everything just to take me home.”

“If you took a chance on me, you’d never have to worry about things like that.”

You were starting to feel nauseous. “Well, sometimes I like the quiet after the bustle of the shop, so walking helps me decompress. And I can't take a chance on you when I’m seeing someone else.” Why was he being so pushy?

He took a small step closer. “You know, it’s dangerous to walk home alone.”

You took a step back, your keys between your fingers. “You’re right about that,” you agreed. The only reason you did so today was to take back a little control, which didn’t seem so smart now.

“I can start walking you home if you want,” he smiled, towering over you. Was he always so imposing? “When’s your next shift?”

You managed a smile in return, but it was extremely forced. “Clark, that’s really not necessary, but thank you for the offer. Enjoy the rest of your day.”

He gently took your arm when you turned toward the door, worry crawling up your spine when his hand tightened a fraction. You suddenly wish you had Bucky or Ray around. “I really don’t mind.”

“My boyfriend will mind, and I’m sure you can understand that. So it’s a no on the coffee and the walks home,” you said gently but firmly, pulling your arm back and rubbing the spot where Clark grabbed you. He wasn’t listening. It somehow felt worse than Bucky and you couldn’t pinpoint why. Was it because Clark tried to act nice? “It’s been a long few days, and I’m going to get some rest. Have a nice day, okay?”

His eyes narrowed again, but it was his chilling smile that unnerved you. “I’m sure I'll see you again soon. We’ll have to get that coffee,” he said, walking off before you could say another word.

You rushed into the building once he was out of sight, your hands shaking. It may have been from the confrontation or the combination of everything. Maybe Clark was just lonely and latched on a bit because you were nice. Hadn't Bucky done something similar?

But if Clark wanted to see you, why hadn't he just gone into the shop if he knew you were working?

Double checking your locks once you were in your apartment, you took a breath and stared at your phone once you sat down. You had to talk to Bucky. He answered within a few seconds of you calling.

“Kotyonok, is everything okay?” he asked, sounding both happy and concerned to hear from you.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t it be?” you asked, hearing a few other men speaking in the background.

“Because you’re calling me and not texting. And you sound a little off. What’s wrong?”

“Everything’s fine,” you lied. How did he recognize that you felt off? “I just wanted you to know that the assistant manager changed my shift, so I went home early.”

“Wait, you’re already home?” he asked. The background noise suddenly stopped. “Did you get a cab? Please tell me you didn’t walk back to your place.”

“…Fine, I won’t tell you that.”

Bucky let out an impressive string of curse words as you pulled the phone away from your ear. “That’s not safe. You know it isn’t,” he hissed, but you knew he wasn’t actually angry with you. Just the situation. And bumping into Clark today and Zemo the day before, he had a bit of a point. “You did that on purpose, didn’t you? Because I said it may not be a good idea to go out with your friends.”

You closed your eyes. He was not going to make you feel bad. “I just needed a breather, okay? And I made it home just fine.”

“But did you? How do I know someone didn’t follow you?” he asked. Clark’s face flashed in your mind when you stayed quiet. “…Kotyonok, did someone follow you?”

“No one followed me that I know of,” you said. You really didn't have any idea. “But… I did bump into Clark. He was in the neighborhood.”

“Clark? That guy from the shop who tried to give you flowers just happened to be in your neighborhood when I wasn't around?” he asked, fury seeping into his tone as you winced.

“I… I’m sure it was a coincidence,” you said. Placating him in this wasn’t going to work, but you had to try.

“That isn’t a fucking coincidence and we both know it. Did he say anything? Try anything?”

You shut your eyes. It would be like ripping off a band-aid. “He asked me to go get a cup of coffee with him, but I told him I was seeing someone.”

He chuckled humorlessly. “He asked you out?” he asked, making you shift in your seat. “Why the fuck do I not have a file on him yet?!” he snapped at someone in the background.

“I’m working on it, boss!” you heard someone promise. “Should I call-”

“No. I’ll call him myself,” Bucky growled.

Who was he talking about? “Bucky, it’s okay. The guy asked me out and I said no,” you assured him. You weren't going to go out with Clark. “I’m sure women throw themselves at you every day and you turn them down.”

“They don't ‘bump’ into me in my neighborhood. And had you told me you were leaving early, I could’ve made sure this guy didn’t go anywhere near you. I don’t even want him near your shop until I know more about him,” he said, his anger not lessening. “If he tries anything, I will tear him apart piece by fucking piece,” he promised you, the intensity in his tone making your throat go dry.

“That isn’t necessary,” you whispered.

He sighed. “Why would you deliberately put yourself in a spot like this just to prove a point? Be pissed at me, I can take that, but do not risk your safety,” he said, adding in a quieter voice, “I couldn’t take it if something happened to you.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, hating how guilty you felt, how worried he sounded on your behalf. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to worry you,” you said. It was stubborn and dumb on your part, and now you were afraid that Bucky really would try to cancel your day out tomorrow. You couldn’t let him. “I’ll make it up to you, okay?”

“Make it up to me?” he asked. That seemed to get his attention. “How are you going to do that?”

“I’ll…” you began, steadying yourself. Natasha said you had power, and maybe you’d have to test that sooner than you expected. “Stay at your place tonight.”

You could hear a pin drop from the quiet. “You’ll stay the night?” he asked, his voice moving like lava through your veins.

“Yes,” you whispered, hammering the nail in the coffin.

“Give me two hours and I'll come get you,” he said, his voice strained, eager. “Be ready.”

“I will be.”

God, you hoped you knew what you were doing.

Oh, Clark. He's a problem now, isn't he? What do we think Ray told Bucky? And what's going to happen when you spend the night? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[susiekern]

10. the one with the talk

warnings: swearing, mentions of sexual activities

word count: 838 (it's short, sorry)

masterlist

You’ve spent the last half an hour pacing around the hotel room, head filled with nervous thoughts. Terrified of the conversation that will probably happen in a few minutes and a little mad. But you’re not sure if the latter is directed at Megumi or yourself. This talk should’ve taken place a long time ago, and while you knew why you hadn’t started it, why didn’t he?

Did he have different reasons than your own? What if for him it was just a way to get something without any strings attached? But if that’s the case, would he act like he did this morning? Or talk to you in general? Usually, one-night stands or fuck buddies don’t cuddle after they’re done, don’t talk about their day, or spend time together outside of the bed in general, right? So many questions and not even one solid answer.

“Hey.” You are so lost in thoughts, you don’t even notice when Megumi enters the room and stands in the doorway. He looks tired, and his voice is a little raspy, but you blame it on the day with his family. He mentioned they were quite tiring before.

“Hey.” Your response is almost shy as you stop pacing and look at him.

“How was the event? And the concert?”

“Good. Yeah, it was good. I’ve met some followers at the expo, and The Fallen were amazing, like always.” You answer, watching as he slides his jacket off and hangs it over the chair that’s next to the big window. “We should talk.”

Megumi smirks hearing the sudden confidence behind these words and nods.

“Yeah, I think so.” There’s a tension in the room when you both sit at the edge of the bed, facing each other. “I’ll start. Just… let me finish before you say anything, okay?”

“Sure.” You nod and put your hands on your lap to stop yourself from fidgeting.

“I never wanted this to play out like that. When we met, I should’ve apologized for how my words came out; it wasn’t my intention to sound rude or hostile. Then it gave me some weird satisfaction, fighting with you, but I didn’t realize why until that night at Supernova. When you get excited or angry, your eyes glisten, and there are so many emotions on your face, it makes me feel alive in a way. Kind of like when I’m making music. It’s almost addicting. And after Supernova I’ve realized we don’t need to fight to get it, because every time I kiss you, it’s there too. Then we started meeting on the roof, and I don’t even know when you broke your way into my mind. I don’t know when I started caring and falling for you, y/n. You got me addicted, and I don’t want to let go; I don’t want it to end. And if you let me, I’ll try to show you what it means to me.”

For a second or two, all you can hear is your heartbeat. It’s racing, trying to escape your chest like it wants you to give it to Megumi. Funny, because it feels like you’ve already done it. His eyes didn’t leave yours for even a moment, and there’s sincerity and hope glistening in them.

Once before, you thought about how they remind you of a forest you could get lost in. You don’t know when, but you did. And there’s no escape route; you wouldn’t use it anyway.

“I’d let you do anything, Megumi, even break me. ‘Cause I have no idea when I started falling either. But suddenly you were on my mind almost constantly, and as much as it was infuriating, it felt right too. Fuck, even at the date with Yuta I couldn’t help but compare him to you, and it was just nice because his smile and touch didn’t make my body and mind stupid like yours do. I’ve never felt that way about someone, and I think I’d regret it if we didn’t at least try to figure it out.” Your voice and hands are trembling from emotions. Are you nervous? It doesn’t matter, because when Megumi takes your hand in his and smiles at you, it’s gone. The only thing left is the peace and overwhelming comfort you find in this small smile.

“So, should we try?” He asks, intertwining your fingers and giving your hand a gentle squeeze.

“Yeah, let’s try.”

For now, it’s enough. Trying is more than you could’ve asked for, and it seems you’re both content with that. You spend the rest of the night in each other’s arms, either talking or lying in comfortable silence, taking in the warmth and comfort of being with the other person. Once in a while, Megumi gives you a soft kiss on the lips or the top of your head, whispering gentle words. Barely awake at this point, you catch a few that make your heart clench.

“You’re like a rain that washes my heart of the dust and salt, dear.”

tag list (lmk if you wanna be added!): @nytylie @fresa-luna @syrooo @zaranobiyuyu @jvpit3rr @pandabiene5115 @good-mourning0 @pearlydays @irwinchester @pxppetmxster @ivydoesit23 @zayuriluvs

[thenewestxmen]

(Suicide warning*)

Wade has been acting really weird lately. When I come home from work every day, he’s on the couch, staring at the TV. Our TV is broken and doesn’t even work… he’ll just stare at the empty, dead screen. When I scoop him up in my arms, he’ll rest his head on my neck. Wade loves physical touch, but his returned gesture just seems so empty. Every time Wade returns from a mercenary job, he returns with more and more of his own blood smelling off of his clothes. Ive tried to ask him what’s going on, but being that little shit he is, he won’t tell me. One day, he walks in the door from a merc job. Today’s the day I ask Wade. I’m sitting on the couch, standing when I see Wade tremble through the door, holding his arms. Like, literally holding his arm that was cut off. Instead of cracking a joke, he just goes into the bathroom.

“Bub? You good? That looks like a nasty wound. Let me help you.” I say, offering some help. Wade doesn’t even look at me. He just continues to walk to the bathroom and locks the door behind him, running the shower. 

Yup, something’s most definitely wrong. He comes out a bit relieved, finally cuddling up close to me, rambling. But something he said stuck out to me.

“Logie bear, I love you. And no matter what happens, nothing you can ever do would ever change that. If anything were to happen to me, and I mean ever, it would never be your fault.” He continued on with his ramblings, I didn’t really think anything of it, I mean it was Wade, he said a lot. But that stuck out. We fell asleep in each other’s arms and I fell into a dreamless sleep, that is until I hear the window open. I flinch away, and turn to see Wade, sitting on the window sill, ready to jump. My heart sinks. I jump out of the bed and run after Wade, but he jumps. We live on the highest story in the entire apartment complex… he just jumped 6 stories. 

“Wade!” I shout after him. I hear a thunk below me and everything seems to fast. I run out of the apartment and race down the stairs. When I get to the bottom, the most sickening sight… Wade had landed on the bicycle rack… his limps barely hanging onto his torso. I freeze, unable to think about what just happened. Wade just killed himself. It’s like the X-men’s fate all over again. 

“Wade… Wade, no, no, no, no.” I say, finally moving towards wades limp body. I pull him off of the bike rack, holding him. His limps are in the moment regenerating themselves. That good. But what do I do? Wade just killed himself, he’ll do it again. I have no choice but to just carry him back to the apartment. Blood drips onto my hands and the smell of wades blood is overwhelming. I reach the apartment and set Wade down on one of the kitchen tables chairs. I don’t know what to do… do I restrain Wade so he doesn’t do it again, do I just talk to him?! All I can think of doing is watching him slowly gain consciousness and have him explain. I wait, and wait. As his limbs grown into being usable, Wade stirs. I perk up when I see his big brown eyes open.

“Logan? Oh… Logan, let me expl- -“

“No! You don’t get to explain! You just jumped out of the window and fell 6 stories! You tried to die, you left me here to watch you die! You…” the words flood out of me as I stare at wades eyes, glossy with tears. 

“Logan… you remember what I said to you earlier, that it wasn’t your fault?”

I nod. How could he do this…?

“I meant it. I love you so much and I didn’t want to hurt you. I’ve just been going through I rough patch. And honey badger, I can’t die, so good for you, you’re stuck with me.” He can’t be serious, can he?

“Wade… you tried to kill yourself. How could you? I love you and I don’t want anything bad to happen to you, even if you’ll heal… you tired to die and I was right there…” I say, almost trembling. Wades arms have gone from stubs to his usual length. He can tell I’m emotional and worried, so he stands (barely) and walks over to me, sitting on my lap, wrapping his arms around me. The first tear slips down my cheek, then the next. Why does everyone I love die? Why does Wade want to…?

Wade look down to me, “Logan. I love you. I’m going through a rough patch. That’s all.” I try and understand, but it doesn’t click.

“Let me help you… please. Please let me do something, anything.” I say. Not sure what else to do, but it’s all I can think of. How to help Wade. Wade nods, and gives me a gentle kiss on my lips, not minding the crying or the tears. The rest of the night, I can’t sleep. I make a coffee, drinking it with my eyes glued to Wade, sleeping. The next day, I have to work. The entire day, it’s filled with anxiety and I can barely focus. The second work gets out, I run home. Wade is reading some romantic book on the couch. He smiles when he sees me, he knows I was worrying based on how he looks at me. Although it’s probably obvious, I’m sweating from running home and the anxious line on my brow gives me away.

“Don’t worry Honey Badger, just reading some sexy romantic literature.” He says.

Good. I sit next to Wade, nuzzling his neck. 

“I can barely read though, not with my dyslexic ass.” Wade says chuckling. I start to read the book to him. I’m a little concerned about how dirty this book is, but Wade seems to enjoy the awful love tropes.

The next few weeks, I make sure to check in with Wade, making sure he’s ok. Anytime he isn’t, I cook him a nice meal, cuddle, and praise him like the gorgeous man he is.

authors note: This… this is what I live for; the drama and romance. Anywho, thanks for the likes and reposts and following and such:)

[fangdokja]

He’ll destroy you—because that’s how much he loves you.

❤︎ Synopsis. Trapped in a twisted game of obsession and desire, you become the prize in a love that isn’t meant to be. With every breath, you’re pulled deeper into a darkness that promises nothing but your total ruination.

♡ Book. Forbidden Fruits: Intimate Obsessions, Unhinged Desires.

♡ Pairing. Yandere! Scar x Fem. Reader, Yandere! Geshu Lin x Fem. Reader, Yandere! Jiyan x Fem. Reader, Yandere! Xiangli Yao x Fem. Reader

♡ Headcanons. Unholy Possession - Part 1

♡ Word Count. 4,184

♡ A/N. No yandere WuWa and MLBB x reader content? Fine, I'll do it myself.🫰🏻 As an author, I'm saying it now, Scar is my favorite yandere to write, third is Geshu Lin. WuWa Yanderes Supremacy.

♡ Scar.

Scar was the kind of man whose touch didn’t just linger—it consumed. Searing, unrelenting, and threaded with a cruelty so precise it felt surgical, his every movement seemed designed to carve his presence into your very being. He didn’t love, not in any way that resembled humanity. His idea of affection was a twisted theatre of chaos, where he choreographed the fear and desperation of his chosen prey like an artist crafting a masterpiece. And now, you were his magnum opus.

When Scar’s eyes found you, it wasn’t with the gentle curiosity of someone discovering a potential partner. No, his gaze was an oppressive weight, a predator’s fixation dissecting every inch of you with the cold precision of a scalpel. To him, you weren’t a person—you were an anomaly, a lamb that had strayed into the wrong flock. His lips curved into a smile that didn’t reach his mismatched eyes, a smile that promised nothing but ruin.

"Do you know what happens to lambs when they wander too far?" he had asked that first night, his tone light, almost conversational. But there was no mistaking the undercurrent of menace that crackled in the space between you.

His voice wrapped around you like smoke, suffocating yet intoxicating. And when he leaned in, his breath hot against your ear, the world seemed to shrink until it was just the two of you—the hunter and the hunted.

"They meet the shepherd," he whispered, and you could hear the grin in his words, sharp and cruel.

From the moment he chose you, the rules of your existence shifted. He didn’t need to announce his intentions; they bled through in every lingering touch, every knowing glance. Scar didn’t pursue—he ensnared, weaving an invisible web around you that tightened with every passing moment. Your defenses, meticulously constructed over a lifetime, crumbled beneath the weight of his attention.

His hands—gloved, yet uncomfortably warm—lingered too long against your throat one night. Not to harm, not yet. Scar was a man who enjoyed the build-up, the anticipation. He pressed just firmly enough to feel the erratic rhythm of your pulse, quickening under his touch. His mismatched eyes locked onto yours, the coldness in them a stark contrast to the heat of his breath against your skin.

“You look at me like I’m the monster hiding under your bed,” he murmured, his voice silken and laced with something sinister. His grip tightened, just slightly, enough to steal the air from your lungs and leave you gasping. “But darling, monsters don’t dream of you the way I do. This isn’t monstrous… it’s devotion.”

And devotion, in Scar’s hands, was a weapon. It wasn’t the warmth of an embrace or the gentle security of love. No, his devotion was smothering, a fire that consumed everything it touched. When he finally claimed you, it wasn’t an act of love but a declaration of conquest. He stripped away your defenses with the precision of a predator toying with its prey, savoring every crack in your resolve. His touch was a dance between extremes: slow and deliberate, then sudden and overwhelming. He wanted to see how far he could push you, how deeply he could carve his presence into your mind and body.

Scar wasn’t a man in those moments; he was a force of nature. Wild, unrestrained, yet disturbingly calculated. His mismatched eyes glinted with an intellect that never stopped analyzing, even in the throes of his most primal desires. He spoke to you throughout, his words a double-edged sword that cut deep into your psyche.

“You’re perfect like this,” he’d whisper, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. His breath came uneven from exertion, but his voice remained steady, unyielding. “Fragile, trembling, still trying to fight. Don’t you see how beautiful that is? It’s why I chose you.”

Scar’s passion left its mark on you—bruises blooming like macabre flowers across your skin, bite marks that ached with every movement. He traced them afterward with a reverence that bordered on obsession, his gloved fingers skimming over the evidence of his control. Yet his praise was never without a barb, his words designed to bind you tighter to him.

“You’ll never leave me,” he’d say, his grin sharp enough to cut. “Not because I won’t let you… but because you’ll realize no one else will ever know you like I do. No one else can.”

And he was right, wasn’t he? Scar didn’t just see you; he dissected you, peeling back the layers of your mind and exposing every hidden thought, every buried fear. It wasn’t just physical—though his dominance there was absolute. He infiltrated every corner of your being, reshaping you into something uniquely his.

Resistance, he said, was the spice of the game. Submission, however, was his art. He didn’t demand it outright; he coaxed it with a skill that made you question if it had been your idea all along. Scar didn’t break you; he remade you. Every fragment of your will bore his mark, every thought and breath tied irrevocably to him.

Even in the rare moments of reprieve, his presence lingered. The scent of him clung to your skin, his words echoed in your mind like a brand burned into your psyche. Solitude brought no relief—it only amplified the weight of his shadow, a constant reminder that you could never escape him.

“Run, little lamb,” he’d taunt, his voice a velvet caress that sent shivers down your spine. From the shadows, he’d watch, his mismatched eyes gleaming with dark amusement. “You can try to leave the flock… but you’ll always belong to your shepherd.”

In the end, it wasn’t the physical chains that held you. It was the labyrinth he built in your mind, the web of terror and desire that left you questioning where he ended and you began. Scar wasn’t just a man—he was a storm that unraveled you, a force that consumed and remade you in his image. And no matter how far you ran, no matter how fiercely you fought, you knew one thing with terrifying certainty:

Scar would always find you.

────────────

♡ Geshu Lin.

The rain had not relented for hours. Each droplet crashed against the shattered stone walls of the forsaken outpost like a drumbeat of despair. The relentless downpour seeped into the cracks of the ruins, merging with the decay and isolation that enveloped the place. Inside, the wavering glow of makeshift lanterns painted jagged shadows across the damp, cold room. The light danced erratically, reflecting the fractured reality of your situation—and the man who loomed over you.

General Geshu Lin. His name lingered in hushed tones among his own troops, spoken with reverence and fear alike. A specter on the battlefield, wielding a greatsword wreathed in black flames that had devoured countless lives. Yet, in this moment, he seemed almost more apparition than man. The rain streaked down his angular face, his eyes—dark, calculating, and haunting—fixated on you with an intensity that bordered on inhuman. It was as though he wasn’t looking at you but through you, dissecting your very essence.

“Do you know what this rain is?” he asked, his voice low and rough, a chilling whisper that slipped under your skin like a blade. He didn’t wait for an answer. “It’s not just water. Each drop is a fragment of the past, a memory dragged from the depths of time. The Retroact Rain is merciless. It unearths what should stay buried. Cruel, isn’t it?”

Your throat tightened as you tried to form words, but nothing came. The weight of his presence pressed against you, suffocating and unyielding. He chuckled softly, a sound devoid of humor, and crouched down, his face perilously close to yours. The faint scent of smoke, rain, and something metallic clung to him, a grim reminder of the battlefield he never truly left behind.

“No need to answer,” he murmured, his gloved hand brushing your cheek with a touch that was as unsettling as it was deceptively gentle. “Your silence speaks volumes. Fear. Hatred. Maybe even a flicker of defiance. It’s all written on you, plain as day. But don’t worry. I’ll strip those away soon enough.”

His fingers trailed down your jawline, leaving a burning imprint in their wake, before tilting your chin upward, forcing your gaze to meet his. The chains wrapped around his greatsword rattled faintly, as if stirred by an unseen force. The weapon rested against the wall, its dark flames pulsating softly like a living thing. The glow of his Tacet Mark on his neck shimmered faintly, an ominous sigil of the power he wielded with unnerving ease.

“They called me a monster,” he said, his voice conversational yet laced with an edge that made your pulse race. “And maybe they were right. Monsters are necessary. Someone has to shoulder the burden of sacrifice. Someone has to do what others can’t. What others won’t.”

His lips curved into a smile, but it was cold, predatory, devoid of any real warmth. He leaned closer, his breath ghosting against your ear. “Someone has to take control.”

Your wrists throbbed against the restraints that bound you, the coarse material digging into your skin with every futile struggle. He noticed, of course. He always noticed. A faint smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth as he straightened, towering over you like a judge preparing to deliver a sentence.

“Still fighting. Good,” he remarked, his tone almost amused. “I’d hate for this to be too easy.”

The air in the room grew heavier, oppressive, as though the very atmosphere conspired against you. He reached for his greatsword, lifting it with a casual grace that belied its massive size. The black flames licked at the blade’s edges, casting eerie, shifting shadows across the walls. The chains coiled around the hilt moved slightly, their motion serpentine, as if alive.

“You remind me of the soldiers who followed me into the Battle Beneath the Crescent,” he mused, his gaze distant for a moment, lost in memory. “Brave. Loyal. Utterly doomed. I told them to stand firm, and they did. To the bitter end. Do you know why?”

You couldn’t speak. You wouldn’t. And he didn’t need your answer. His smile vanished, replaced by a chilling resolve that sent a shiver down your spine.

“Because they trusted me. Just as you will.”

The room seemed to darken, the flickering lanterns dimming until only his eyes shone in the gloom, twin beacons of dominance and inevitability. He crouched once more, his free hand reaching out to brush a strand of damp hair from your face. The gesture was grotesquely intimate, a mockery of tenderness.

“The Retroact Rain,” he murmured, his voice soft, almost coaxing, “has been kind to you. It’s shown me glimpses of who you are—or who you were. I’ll keep those pieces, you know. The ones worth saving.”

His hand slid to your throat, resting there with a possessive weight that left no room for misinterpretation. His thumb pressed lightly against your pulse, feeling the frantic beat beneath his touch.

“This fear,” he said, his gaze piercing yours, “is exquisite. But it’s wasted if you let it control you. Surrender it to me. Surrender everything.”

The rain outside intensified, the relentless pounding against the walls echoing like a war drum. His grip tightened, not enough to hurt, but enough to remind you of his strength. His lips quirked into a smile that was equal parts wicked and triumphant.

“By the time this storm ends,” he promised, his voice a dark caress that seeped into your very soul, “you won’t remember who you were before me. You won’t want to.”

The greatsword’s flames surged, casting long, writhing shadows that seemed to consume the room. And as the rain continued to fall, a terrible realization settled over you. The Retroact Rain wasn’t just dredging up the past. It was carving a future—one shaped entirely by him.

────────────

♡ Jiyan.

The silence of the night is a palpable thing, a viscous shadow that clings to the edges of your consciousness. It seeps into your lungs with every breath, thick and unyielding, and it presses against your chest as though some unseen force is trying to carve you out from within. Outside, the wind howls, a mournful dirge that scrapes against the walls of the crumbling refuge you call home. Its wails weave through the cracks and crevices, whispering unspoken fears into your ears. But it is not the wind that holds you captive in its thrall.

It's him.

Jiyan.

Even his name feels heavy on your mind, a weight that anchors you in the pit of your dread. He is a force of nature, an unyielding constant in a world reduced to chaos and decay. Like the stubborn weeds that grow through fractured concrete, he thrives where nothing else can, his presence unshaken amidst the ruins. His quiet authority, once a source of fragile comfort, now feels suffocating. Where you had once seen stability, now lies control—unyielding, inescapable.

The walls shudder faintly, as if they too sense the storm approaching. The sound of footsteps—measured, deliberate, each one echoing like a death knell—draws closer. When the door finally groans open, it feels as though the room itself inhales sharply, bracing for his arrival. There he stands, framed by pale moonlight. The faint silver glow spills over him, casting sharp lines across his features. His gray-turquoise hair, tied back with meticulous care, gleams like a blade’s edge in the dim light. Shadows seem drawn to him, coiling at his feet like loyal hounds, elongating his already imposing figure.

His eyes, a piercing yellow that cuts through the gloom, find yours immediately. They do not waver, do not soften. Instead, they bore into you, dissecting and cataloging every nuance of your expression. His gaze alone is enough to pin you in place, your pulse pounding in your ears as though your body is trying in vain to escape his presence.

“You’re awake,” he says, his voice a deep, resonant murmur that vibrates in the hollow spaces of the room. It’s soft, but it carries a weight that makes your skin prickle. His tone is not accusatory, not overtly threatening, yet there’s something about it that freezes the words in your throat.

You manage a stammered reply, barely audible over the suffocating quiet. “I couldn’t sleep.”

The faintest shift in his expression—a flicker of displeasure—is enough to send your heart racing anew. He steps into the room, his movements precise, economical, like a predator conserving energy before the pounce.

“Lying does not suit you,” he says, his voice as calm as ever, though the edge beneath it is unmistakable. “You forget how well I know you. The tension in your shoulders, the way you avoid my gaze…” His steps bring him closer, each one shrinking the space between you, each one pressing his presence deeper into the air around you. “Your body betrays you.”

You shrink back, instinct overriding rationality. But the room offers no refuge, its corners bending to his will. He watches you with an intensity that borders on clinical, his head tilting slightly as though he’s analyzing an intricate puzzle.

“You’re pushing yourself again,” he says, softer now, though the quiet in his voice is no less oppressive. His hand rises, and you flinch, though his touch is surprisingly gentle as he brushes a stray lock of hair from your face. The juxtaposition of his tenderness against the weight of his presence sends a shiver down your spine. “You think I don’t notice?”

Your lips move, forming a protest that never finds its voice. His fingers linger for a moment before retreating, but the impression of his touch feels burned into your skin.

“You’re fragile,” he continues, his words laced with a kind of reverence that feels more like a warning. “This world would devour you, piece by piece, if I weren’t here to stop it. You have no idea how close you come to the edge, every time you push yourself too far.”

“I… I’m fine,” you manage, though the tremor in your voice betrays the words.

He’s closer now, close enough that the warmth of his breath ghosts across your skin. His lips curve—not into a smile, not quite. The expression is something darker, something that feels like possession. “Fine?” he echoes, his voice low, dangerous. “Is that what you tell yourself when you wake up shaking? When you stare at the walls as though they’re closing in on you?”

Your breath hitches, the truth of his words striking too close. He notices, of course. He notices everything.

“Do you think I don’t hear you at night?” he asks, his voice dropping to a whisper that coils around you like smoke. “Do you think I don’t know every fear, every nightmare that haunts you? You’re an open book to me. I’ve studied every page.”

He reaches for your wrist, his grip firm but not painful. It’s a restraint, a reminder, an unspoken assertion of his control. “You’re precious to me,” he says, and though the words are soft, there’s a fervor in them that makes your stomach churn. “Too precious to destroy yourself with your stubbornness. Too precious to risk… anything.”

His other hand rises, his fingers tracing the line of your jaw with almost unbearable tenderness. The contrast between his touch and the darkness in his gaze is dizzying.

“Do you understand?” he murmurs, his voice now so quiet it’s nearly lost beneath the sound of your own heartbeat. “I won’t let anything harm you. Not this world. Not the monsters that lurk in its shadows. Not even you.”

His words sink into your mind like jagged hooks, their implications too terrible to ignore. He’s not speaking of protection in the way you once believed. This isn’t about safety. It’s about ownership, about the lengths he’s willing to go to keep you tethered to him.

The room feels smaller, the air heavier. His presence is an all-encompassing force, leaving no room for resistance, no room for thought beyond the relentless weight of him. You can’t look away, can’t even breathe without feeling his control tighten around you like a vice.

“You don’t need to fear anything,” he says finally, his voice soothing in a way that only makes it more terrifying. “Not when I’m here. Not when I’ve already decided that nothing will ever take you from me.”

The finality in his tone is absolute, a decree etched into the fabric of your existence. And as his shadow stretches further, swallowing the fragile light of the room, you’re left with the chilling certainty that this safety he offers is a cage from which there will be no escape.

────────────

�� Xiangli Yao.

He didn’t mean to frighten you—not at first.

Xiangli Yao prided himself on control, a rationality that pulsed through every measured action, every carefully enunciated word. It was this precision, this disarming grace, that had first lured you into his orbit. His quiet smile when he explained the intricacies of Metalmorph, the way his prosthetic hand moved with unnervingly organic fluidity, had been hypnotic. The gleaming alloy, cool and unyielding, had brushed against your skin more than once—too close, too familiar. It had always been under the guise of work, of science, of truth. And you… you had believed him.

Until the moment you realized you couldn’t leave.

He had always been gentle. That was what you clung to as the door slid shut behind you with a hiss, the locks engaging with an audible click. The room was silent save for the soft hum of his machinery, the faint, otherworldly glow of his prosthetic casting spectral shadows on the walls. It was cold. Too cold. You wrapped your arms around yourself, but his gaze pinned you in place. Those sharp, discerning eyes, glinting like a scalpel under sterile light, carved through the facade of normalcy you’d so desperately tried to maintain.

“You’ve been avoiding me.” His voice was calm, almost conversational, but there was a weight beneath it that made your pulse quicken. “Why?”

The question hung in the air, unanswered. You opened your mouth to respond, but his head tilted, a predator’s patience glinting in his eyes. He didn’t want an excuse. He wanted the truth—or rather, what he’d already decided was the truth. Xiangli’s entire existence revolved around dissecting enigmas, peeling back layers until nothing but raw, trembling essence remained. And now, you were the puzzle laid bare before him.

“Did you think I wouldn’t notice?” he asked softly, his steps intentional as he closed the distance between you two. “The hesitation in your voice. The way your eyes dart to the door when you think I’m not looking. I’ve studied systems more complex than you, my dear. And none of them have ever escaped me.”

The air grew thick, suffocating. He loomed over you, his prosthetic fingers brushing your cheek with a paradoxical tenderness that sent a shiver down your spine. You flinched, but he didn’t pull away. Instead, his hand curled under your chin, tilting your face upward to meet his gaze. The metallic whir of his joints was almost imperceptible, but in the stillness, it sounded deafening.

“Do you understand what happens to machines when they malfunction?” he murmured. “We don’t discard them. We repair them. We make them better.”

There was a flicker of something in his eyes—something dark, unyielding. A promise. He’d make you better, too.

When he kissed you, it wasn’t soft. It wasn’t romantic. It was an invasion, a claiming. His lips were cold and relentless, his grip on your jaw unbreakable. You pushed against his chest, your palms meeting the unyielding surface of his prosthetic plating. But he didn’t move. He was an immovable force, and you were nothing more than a variable to be corrected.

“Shh,” he murmured against your lips, his breath hot in contrast to his frigid demeanor. “You’ll understand soon enough. This… this is necessary.”

The room spun as he guided you to the edge of his desk, his movements precise and practiced. Every touch, every press of his body against yours, was calculated. He didn’t rush. He was a scientist, after all, and you were his latest experiment. The trembling of your hands, the quickening of your breath, the way your pulse thrummed beneath his fingertips—each reaction was cataloged and dissected in the labyrinth of his mind.

“Do you recall what I told you about the Court of Savantae?” he questions lightly, his warm lips brushing the shell of your ear. “About the secrets I uncovered there? The sacrifices required to unlock the universe’s truths?”

You whimpered, a sound that only seemed to spur him on. His prosthetic hand traced the curve of your neck, the metal cool and unyielding against your fevered skin. He’d designed it himself, every joint and plate a testament to his brilliance. And now, that brilliance was turned against you, a weapon wielded with terrifying precision.

“Sacrifice is inevitable,” he continued, his voice a low murmur. “But don’t be afraid. I’ll be by your side every step of the way. Guiding you. Shaping you.”

His hand slipped lower, the cold metal sending jolts of sensation through your body. You hated the way your body betrayed you, the way his touch elicited a response you couldn’t control. He noticed, of course. He noticed everything.

“Fascinating,” he muttered, his lips curving into a faint and gentle smile. “Even now, your body’s reactions align perfectly with my predictions. You truly are extraordinary.”

Tears blurred your vision, but he didn’t stop. He pressed closer, his breath hot against your skin, his words a cruel mockery of comfort.

“Don’t cry,” he chided gently, his prosthetic hand wiping away a tear that had escaped down your cheek. “This is all for the greater good. For our future. For you.”

The room seemed to close in around you, the shadows deepening as his presence consumed you. There was no escape, no reprieve. He was everywhere—in the air you breathed, in the trembling of your limbs, in the relentless cadence of your heart.

And as he leaned in, his lips capturing yours once more, you realized with chilling clarity that he wasn’t just your captor. He was your architect. Your creator. And he wouldn’t stop until every piece of you belonged to him.

────────────

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General TAG LIST of “Forbidden Fruits”: @uniquecutie-puffs , @ikevampharem , @tnsophiaonly , @mokingbrd78k , @cooldeermagazine , @mimitk , @xileonaaaa , @acacia-koi , @purple-obsidian , @waterfal-ling , @jjune-07

[yappaccinocookie]

they kidnapped me!

Heya! I just want a story of cookies going into your world, shrunk you down into a size of a cookie but you still remain as human, and you were pretty scared that anything in earthbread could kill you but rather...they decide to take care of you! (Especially some cookies too)

this request was lovely oh my gosh, how come i never did this?! sorry for the delay I have been gone for a long time. there are not that much characters, since I wrote for the ancients like in the last post I decided to not write for them although this prompt is so fitting for them. also, nothing here is meant to be romantic it's strictly plotanic because dough x flesh isn't really my thing...

LOWERCASE INTENDED!!

you weren’t sure what was more terrifying: the fact that you had been shrunk down to the size of a cookie or that the cookies themselves were the ones who did it.

it all started when you stumbled upon a strange glowing object in your home. you didn’t even get a chance to touch it before a group of cookies appeared out of nowhere, looking at you with wide eyes and murmuring amongst themselves. one of them muttered something about “balancing the scales” and, before you could react, everything went blurry.

when you came to, you were no longer towering over the cookies. in fact, they were towering over you. your hands were still human, your body still the same—but you were their size now, and the world around you felt impossibly big and dangerous. "uh oh?" you heard one of them say.

"dude, what did you do to me!? im tiny!" you say, or maybe squeaked. your voice was embarrassingly high pitch now. the cookies melted in panic

"d—dont worry were gonna take good care of you! our world is full of candy." you weren’t sure if that was supposed to be comforting or terrifying.

Espresso —

"Well?..."

espresso clicked his tongue, crossing his arms as he looked down at you. “calm down,” he said, as if that were the easiest thing in the world. “you’re not the first anomaly i’ve dealt with.”

despite his sharp tone, he quickly set to work creating solutions for your new size. he built a small platform for you to stand on while he worked and even crafted a tiny cup for you to sit in. “this should keep you from getting underfoot,” he muttered, clearly more focused on solving the problem than comforting you.

while he wasn’t exactly warm, he did make sure you were safe at all times. “you’re fragile like this,” he said bluntly. “try not to get yourself killed while i figure this out.”

he's responsible, but very boring to be around. espresso is not the best care–taker, he's straight forward and doesn't sugar coat anything despite the sweet ingredients he's made with (other than espresso)

Latte —

"So much misfortune, are you alright?"

latte gasped when she saw you, immediately kneeling to your level. “oh no, you poor thing!” she said, her voice full of concern. “this must be so overwhelming for you.”

she wasted no time casting protection spells around you, ensuring nothing could harm you while you adjusted. she even used her magic to create a soft bubble-like barrier for you to rest in.

“i know this isn’t ideal,” she said gently, “but we’ll figure it out together. for now, just focus on staying safe, okay?” her warmth and patience made it easier to trust her, even in such a strange situation.

latte is like the mom friend who gives you a safety lecture and bakes you cookies afterward. unfortunately, she also has a tendency to overthink things, which means you’re probably stuck listening to her brainstorm solutions for hours while you sit in your little magic bubble.

Caramel Arrow —

caramel arrow cookie stared at you for a long moment, her expression unreadable. “this… is going to be a problem,” she said finally.

she didn’t waste time sugarcoating things, immediately taking charge of your safety. “you’re too small to fend for yourself,” she said matter-of-factly. “stick with me, and you’ll be fine.”

she fashioned a small carrier out of her cloak, tucking you inside so you could travel with her. while her demeanor was serious, you noticed how she always made sure to keep you in her line of sight, her sharp eyes scanning for any potential threats.

caramel arrow doesn’t mean to be intimidating, but she has the energy of someone who’s always ready for battle. she’s the type to keep you safe while also making you feel like you’re in a military training camp. “don’t touch that. don’t wander off. and definitely don’t make noise.” stricter than my mama, at this point don't do anything.

Crunchy Chip —

crunchy chip cookie frowned when he saw you, his wolf sniffing at your tiny form curiously. “you’re… smaller than i expected,” he muttered.

he wasn’t one for words, but his actions spoke volumes. he quickly ensured you were safe, his wolf often curling up around you protectively. “stay close to me,” he said gruffly. “the world’s dangerous at your size.”

though his tone was harsh, he went out of his way to make sure you were comfortable, even sharing his rations with you. “don’t make me regret this,” he muttered, though his actions showed he genuinely cared.

crunchy chip’s wolf is more affectionate than he is. you’ve caught the wolf trying to lick your face more than once, while crunchy chip just stands there, awkwardly pretending he doesn’t see it. compared to your wolves when u went outside normally, this wolf smelt very edible...

Moonlight —

moonlight cookie’s expression softened when she saw you, her glow casting a calming light over your tiny form. “oh, little one,” she said softly, her voice like a lullaby. “you must be so frightened.”

she used her magic to create a serene, dreamlike space for you to rest, ensuring nothing could harm you. “here, you are safe,” she said, her tone soothing.

she treated you with gentle kindness, often sitting with you and sharing stories of earthbread to help ease your fears. “you are far from home,” she said softly, “but you are not alone.”

moonlight cookie’s magic is so relaxing that you’ve accidentally fallen asleep mid-conversation more than once. she doesn’t mind, but you’re starting to wonder if she’s doing it on purpose to keep you from stressing out.

Clover —

clover cookie’s eyes widened when he saw you, his harp nearly slipping from his hands. “oh dear! you’ve been… reduced!” he exclaimed, kneeling to your level with genuine concern.

he immediately began to sing a soothing melody, hoping to calm your nerves. “there’s no need to fear,” he assured you, his voice gentle and reassuring. “we’ll find a way to fix this, but for now, let’s focus on keeping you safe.”

clover fashioned a small pouch from his satchel and carefully placed you inside, humming softly as he carried you around. “don’t worry,” he said with a smile. “i’ll make sure nothing harms you.”

clover’s idea of “keeping you safe” involves serenading you at every opportunity, even if it’s not entirely necessary. you’ve had to politely remind him that a song won’t stop a cakehound from chasing you, but he insists it’s for morale.

moral of the story: get espresso cookie...

[swiftiethatlovesf1]

Toto's obsession p.8

Hey guyss, I hope you enjoy this part and if you've missed part 7 or if you want to read it from the beginning here's my masterlist :)

The sound of the front door closing echoed through the quiet house. You stood there for a moment, unsure of what to feel. George had left without saying much after the proposal, his face a mask of conflict and frustration.

Toto’s arms around you quickly brought you back to the present. He pulled you close, his lips brushing your ear as he murmured, “We’ll give him time. Tonight is about us.”

You nodded, looking up at him with a soft smile, though your heart still ached for George’s acceptance. Toto cupped your face, his thumbs brushing gently against your cheeks, and leaned in to kiss you.

At first, the kiss was tender, but it quickly deepened, his possessive need for you evident in the way he held you. He lifted you into his arms effortlessly, carrying you to the bedroom as your laughter filled the air.

The night became a celebration of your love. Toto’s passion was overwhelming, consuming. He whispered promises against your skin, vowing to cherish you forever. His touch made you feel like the most precious thing in the world. Wrapped in his embrace, you felt safe, adored, and utterly his.

The next morning, sunlight streamed through the curtains. You stirred to find yourself still tangled in Toto’s arms. His strong frame was warm against yours, and his hand rested possessively on your waist.

Tilting your head, you found his piercing blue eyes already on you. He smiled, a rare softness in his expression that made your heart flutter.

“Good morning, mein Liebling,” he murmured, his voice husky from sleep.

“Good morning,” you replied, leaning in to kiss him lightly. “Last night felt like a dream.”

“It was real,” he said, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “And I’ll make sure every day feels like that for you.”

You blushed, burying your face in his chest as he chuckled. Then his tone grew serious. He shifted slightly to look at you.

“I wish I could stay here with you longer. This…this is perfect. But the next GP is coming up, and I’m needed there.”

Your heart sank a little, but you understood. “I know. It’s your job, and you’re amazing at it. I’ll be here when you get back.”

He tightened his arms around you, as if the thought of leaving you was unbearable. “I don’t want to be away from you for even a moment. Maybe…maybe you could come with me?”

You hesitated. “What about George? He’s still upset, and I don’t want to make things worse.”

Toto sighed, his jaw tightening slightly. “George will come around. He has to. I’ll make sure of it. But right now, I want you by my side. I want everyone to know you’re mine.”

His words sent a shiver down your spine, and you nodded slowly. “Okay. I’ll come with you.”

A satisfied smile spread across his face. He kissed you deeply, as if sealing your agreement.

The days passed quickly, and soon you found yourself boarding a plane with Toto to the next GP. The excitement in the air was palpable, but a sense of nervousness lingered in your chest.

This was the first time you would be attending a race as his fiancée. Though you were thrilled to support him, the potential scrutiny weighed on your mind.

Toto, however, was calm and collected. His hand never left yours throughout the journey. He reassured you with quiet words, his presence a steady anchor.

By the time you arrived at the paddock, you felt more confident, ready to embrace your new role by his side.

The paddock buzzed with activity. Toto was immediately drawn into meetings and briefings.

“I’ll be tied up for a while,” he told you, his hand resting possessively on your waist. “But if you need anything, call me.”

“I’ll be fine,” you assured him with a smile. “Go do what you need to do.”

He kissed your forehead before disappearing into the Mercedes motorhome.

Left to your own devices, you decided to explore. Soon, you found yourself among the other WAGs. They welcomed you warmly, chatting about the race, travel, and life in the F1 world. Their easy camaraderie helped you relax, and you began to enjoy yourself.

However, your moment of peace was short-lived.

While walking through the paddock, a small group of photographers spotted you. They immediately began calling out, asking for photos.

Trying to remain calm, you smiled politely and nodded. But their persistence was overwhelming. They peppered you with questions, their cameras flashing incessantly.

Before you could answer, a familiar, commanding voice cut through the chaos.

“Leave her alone,” Toto’s voice rang out, firm and protective.

All heads turned as he approached. His expression was a mixture of authority and irritation. He stepped in front of you, shielding you from the cameras.

“I won’t have you hounding my fiancée.”

The word hung in the air, and a stunned silence fell over the crowd. The photographers exchanged shocked glances, their questions momentarily forgotten.

Your eyes widened as you realized what he had just revealed.

Toto turned to you, his gaze softening. “Are you alright?” he asked quietly, ignoring the murmurs and flashing cameras around you.

You nodded, your heart racing as you tried to process the sudden shift in attention. “Yes, I’m fine,” you managed to say.

With his arm protectively around you, Toto led you away from the crowd, leaving the stunned photographers behind.

As you walked, he leaned down and whispered, “I’m sorry if I surprised you, but I couldn’t stand by and watch them treat you like that.”

“It’s okay,” you assured him, your voice steady despite the adrenaline coursing through you. “Thank you for standing up for me.”

He stopped, turning to face you, his hands resting gently on your shoulders.

“I meant every word,” he said, his voice low and sincere. “You’re mine, and I’ll always protect you.”

You felt your cheeks flush at his words, the intensity of his gaze leaving no doubt about his feelings.

As the two of you walked back toward the motorhome, you couldn’t help but wonder what the fallout from his declaration would be. But in that moment, all that mattered was the man beside you.

[manchestereyes]

it is you

summary: @/danisnotonfire: I wonder how biology can explain the physical pain you feel in your chest when all you want to do is be with someone D:

When Dan gets permission to spend a week with Phil in December, he has a stunning realisation.

rating: T

word count: 2.1k

tags: 2009, fluff, light angst, skype, falling in love

notes: written for the 2024 @phandomgiftexchange for @someone-stole-all-my-fruit! I hope you're having a wonderful holiday season! <3 2009 phan is always such a joy to write, so thank you so much for this lovely prompt!

Read on ao3

@/danisnotonfire: I wonder how biology can explain the physical pain you feel in your chest when all you want to do is be with someone D:

***

It’s not fair .

It’s so incredibly unfair, Dan thinks, that he should have to suffer this much when he’s already dealt with so much bullshit in his life. Why can’t Phil be right here? Or better yet, why can’t he be with Phil, far away in Manchester where reality can’t touch him?

Well. He knows the answer to that second question. But knowing doesn’t help the situation at all. Maybe that’s why his heart squeezes again when he glances back at the selfie Phil’s just sent him. Really, those puppy eyes should be illegal. It’s sure as hell making Dan want to do something that could land him in prison anyway…

His eyes flick back to the text he just sent, heart squeezing all over again at the insanity of it all. He should be happy he (barely) got permission to stay at Phil’s for a whole week, right? His mum’s breezy “Yeah, go ahead” shouldn’t be affecting him this much. It’s just how she is. Dan should know this after eighteen God-awful years.

And yet. And yet. After meeting Phil’s mum and dad last weekend, Dan can’t help but feel that old cavernous hole rip open anew. How come Phil got the perfect family and Dan ended up with his sorry excuse for a mum and dad who barely noticed if he was there or not? Sure, Phil’s regaled his own problems, how he doesn’t feel like he could ever come out to them, but Dan would still take a cordless hammer drill over the shouting that fills his sleepless nights. At least Phil’s parents actually like each other.

More than that, they like Phil. Dan knows he wasn’t planned, that he had thrown a baby-sized wrench into their world travel dreams. He can’t count how many times his dad had hurled those words at him when Dan fucked something up in the way only he can. 

Dan can’t remember the last time they looked at him with pride in their eyes. Meanwhile, Phil’s mum had greeted him with a hug that told Dan immediately where Phil had gotten his irresistible cuddle skills from.

His phone buzzes again then, a beam of light through his dark thoughts.

Phil: A week!!! I know it wasn’t the reaction u wanted but Dan we get a whole damn week together!

Ok, yeah. That was a pretty big thing to look forward to. Even if it still blows Dan’s mind that Phil wants to see him. Maybe that’s what pushes him to reply, despite the overwhelming pain weighing him down.

Dan: ur not gonna get tired of me before the end of it?

(He’s not being pathetic, he swears. It’s just all he can think about right now.)

Phil: Dan!!! Don’t ever say that plz. I could never get tired of u <3

And there it is. Seven little words, one emoticon. And somehow it means more to Dan than he could ever express. A smile crawls up his face before he can bite it back. (Not that he wants to.)

Dan: <3 thank u phil. i think i needed to hear that tonight

Dan sends the text before he can think twice about it. If these last few weeks are anything to go by, he shouldn’t have anything to worry about. Yet there’s still a voice screaming at him that it’s too much, that Phil doesn’t actually want to hear about all of Dan’s issues, that he’s just like his schoolmates…

Phil: Then I’ll say it a million times as much as u need. U really are the coolest person I’ve ever known. I can’t believe u wanna be with me tbh

Dan: rly? ur not just saying that?

Phil: Really honestly and truly. You’ve gone to reading festival when I still get stressed at youtube gatherings. You were a world of warcraft kid when I could barely tell my friends I liked buffy. I wish I had even a bit of ur confidence some days :3

Dan: rly? but u were in faintheart and the weakest link and you’ve been on youtube for years when i was almost too terrified to post my first video

Phil: So was I! But that’s the thing, Dan. I did those things scared shitless and they haven’t gotten any easier. I think u know by now that internet Phil and real Phil are entirely different people, yeah?

Dan: hmmmm ok. hey speaking of real phil can we continue this on skype?

No sooner had Dan sent the message than his laptop bleated with the old familiar ringtone. Like a figment from his wildest dreams, Phil’s pixelated face fills his screen in seconds, his positively giddy smile sparking a matching grin of Dan’s own.

“Really Dan, I can’t believe we get to have a whole week together!!” Phil claps his hands and his frame grows blurry for a few seconds. Dan can only guess he’s bouncing on his bed and his eyes squeeze shut at the adorableness of it all.

Yet a hint of that darkness still lingers, drawing bars across Dan’s heart. “I’m just glad to get away from here for a while,” he sighs. Then, hoping to erase the pout that appears on Phil’s face, he adds, “And to see you, obviously!”

Phil sticks his tongue out in response, the frame jiggling as his face comes closer until his ocean eyes take up half the screen. Dan is surprised to find his voice growing serious. “Dan. You know you can talk about anything with me. It kills me to know how rough you’ve had it. I wish I could’ve been there before but, well, I’m here now at least? And maybe that counts for something?”

“Phil.” Suddenly, Dan’s shifting his laptop onto his propped-up knees, pulling it closer and wishing more than anything that he could jump through the computer screen and into Phil’s arms And maybe it’s the pain in Phil’s eyes, a pain Dan’s felt a thousand times worse yet would do anything to prevent Phil from feeling, maybe it’s the hope in Phil’s voice--something melts away any of the trepidation he had before. 

“Phil, are you kidding?” Dan bursts out. “Of course it counts! I mean, I think it’s safe to say we’re best friends now, and isn’t that what best friends do?”

“I mean… I would hope we’re a little more than best friends by now?” And good lord, the smirk that crawls up Phil’s face and fills the bottom of the screen should be illegal. It’s so much that Dan has to tear his eyes away from the screen and stare at his tiny TV and dresser for a minute.

Not for the first time, it hits him that he’s really here , speaking to Phil in the very room where he spent countless hours watching that same man. How many times has he dreamed of kissing him, of holding him, of dancing through the streets of Manchester? How long has his heart ached for someone to ease its burden? And now… that someone is here, giggling from his laptop speakers and fulfilling every one of Dan’s hopes and dreams far better than Dan ever thought possible. 

It should be too good to be true. And yet, after everything he’s been through, doesn’t he deserve this one good thing?

They’re both silent for a few seconds until Phil asks softly, “Dan? What are you thinking about right now?”

“Oh, I dunno.” Dan picks up the bear he’s had his entire life from the nightstand and strokes its ears absentmindedly, something he’s always done when he’s nervous. When he speaks again, he chooses his next words carefully. “Lots of things, I guess. It’s just wild that… well, you know how long I’ve watched your videos. I don’t know if I’ve ever had a best friend. Not until now. Not until you.” A blush rises in Dan’s cheeks then, but he means every word.

“Dan. I mean, I had kind of picked some of that up, but are you sure?” Phil’s voice is just as soft as Dan’s, almost reverent. And yet some nasty part of Dan’s brain expects to see those blue eyes darken when he whispers “Well, yeah” in response. Surely this was too much. Surely Dan was too much for Phil, like he was for everyone. Surely Phil was about to…

Melt into the purest smile Dan’s ever seen from him? “Oh my God, I--I feel the exact same way.” Dan is shocked to find Phil’s next words tinged with relief. “I think you know how I always had the same group of friends through school, right?” Dan nods. “Well, they’re all great, but I… never felt as close to any of them as I do with you. I never felt like they got me, you know? And then you come along in my Twitter replies and suddenly you’re the only person I ever want to talk to. And somehow, you want to talk to me too? I feel like I’ve won the lottery here.”

Dan wants to take those words and lock them up in a box that only he can touch. Never in his eighteen years did he ever think he’d hear something like this. He’d barely even let himself hope for it. His heart squeezes to a point where he knows he won’t forget this moment, not as long as he has Phil. It’s a perfect moment he so deeply wants to live in forever.

So is it any wonder his voice catches and tears prick his eyes when he finally finds the strength to speak? “Really? God, I had no idea. And here I thought you had this perfect amazing life, all because your parents clearly lo--clearly care about you so much and you’ve had the same group of friends pretty much forever. I don’t know what that’s like.”

Dan can’t say why he freezes up at the word love just then. He’s just discussing Phil’s relationship with his parents, not declaring his love for Phil. Right?

Wait, does he love Phil? The rapid pace of his heart and the smile fighting to break through his face tell him yes, yes, a thousand times yes but he can’t say that here. Not on Skype. Not when there’s 300 kilometres separating him from Phil’s arms. He just has to keep his heart locked tight until their week together.

Of course Phil’s response makes that impossibly difficult. “Dan. Fuck, you don’t know how much I wish you knew how that feels.” The ache in his voice combined with his anxious fringe tugging has Dan squeezing his bear with everything he has in him just to expel some of his overwhelming feelings. 

“And sure, my parents are great and all, but I feel like they don’t get me. My mum still thinks the movies and things I’ve done are just a fun little hobby that can’t lead to anything. She doesn’t understand why I’m travelling to Ireland every other weekend, and my dad keeps telling me about these boring jobs I don’t want. I wanna see what else I can do with this YouTube thing, but it might not lead to anything. And then I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

By now, the tears have broken free and are streaming down Dan’s face. He doesn’t know exactly why, but he has a feeling they have something to do with the fear trapped in Phil’s eyes.

And yet, they’re not only sad tears. Sure, Dan’s heart is breaking just a bit for the boy on his screen, but it’s also light and airy for the first time since he was a tiny child. That’s when it hits him.

This light, airy, snuggly feeling-- it’s safety . Here in this tiny bubble with Phil, Dan feels safe. It’s unfamiliar, sure, but it’s not scary. He’ll be okay, as long as he has Phil.

It’s this thought that he holds tightly onto over the next few years. Even when the walls are closing in on him and Dan can barely breathe, Phil is always there--in his phone, across Manchester, and soon across the hall. 

Even when he’s sure he can’t feel any worse, he’ll be okay one day. Because he has Phil. And in the moments Phil’s heart shatters hard enough for the both of them, Dan is right there with cuddles and sweets and whispered words of comfort, whatever Phil needs in that moment. Because they’re Dan and Phil. And whatever they go through, they’ll go through it together.

If only eighteen-year-old Dan could see how well things would turn out. Yet as Dan thinks back on this moment fifteen years later, he thinks some part of him did know in a strange way. So much has changed, yet Dan is still that bright-eyed little boy with a dream at his core. And he still has Phil by his side.

[mattsfavouritewhore]

Just Go Part 2 - Chris Sturniolo

a/n: sorry for the long wait!! enjoy

summary: Does chris really want you like you want him?

PART 1: just go

Your breath catches in your throat. Did he really just say that? Chris shifts behind you, his arm tightening slightly around your waist as if he regrets the words but refuses to let go. You don’t move, your mind racing. The heat of his body against yours feels different now—charged, electric, impossible to ignore.

“Chris,” you finally whisper, barely finding your voice.

“I didn’t mean to say that,” he mutters, his tone softer but strained. “Forget it, okay?”

You turn in his arms to face him, your noses almost brushing. His features are shadowed but no less intense, his eyes searching yours like he’s trying to read your thoughts. “Do you really want me?” The question escapes before you can stop it.

His hesitation is brief, his gaze dropping to your lips before snapping back to your eyes. “You have no idea,” he murmurs. And then his lips are on yours.

The kiss is fiery, urgent, years of suppressed feelings pouring out in a single moment. He groans against your mouth, his hand sliding to your lower back and pulling you flush against him. His body is solid, warm, and the feeling of him so close sets your skin alight.

You respond instinctively, your fingers threading through his hair, tugging gently as his lips trail to your jawline and then your neck. The sound that escapes you is unintentional but seems to fuel him further. His hands roam your body, memorizing every curve as his mouth moves lower, nipping and kissing at the sensitive skin of your collarbone.

“Chris,” you gasp, your voice trembling with need.

“Tell me to stop,” he whispers against your skin, his breath hot and heavy. “If you’re not ready, I’ll stop.”

But you don’t want him to stop. Not tonight. Not after the way he made you feel safe, wanted, protected. “Don’t stop,” you say, barely recognizing your own voice.

He pulls back just enough to meet your gaze, searching for any hesitation. When he finds none, his lips crash back into yours with a newfound intensity. His hands make quick work of the oversized shirt you’re wearing, leaving you exposed to him. He pulls back slightly, his eyes raking over you like you’re a masterpiece.

���God, you’re so beautiful,” he says, his voice thick with desire.

His mouth is on you again before you can respond, his kisses trailing down your neck and over your chest. The sensation sends shivers through you, your body arching into him as he takes his time exploring every inch of your skin. His hands are firm yet gentle, holding you as though you might break, while his lips make you feel like you’re on fire.

When he finally lays you back on the bed, he hovers over you, his eyes dark with want but soft with something deeper. “You’re sure?” he asks again, his voice almost reverent.

You nod, reaching up to pull him down to you. “I’m sure.”

What follows is nothing short of breathtaking. Chris takes his time, his movements careful and deliberate, making sure you’re comfortable and completely with him. The way he touches you, the way he whispers your name, the way he looks at you—it’s like he’s worshiping you.

The build-up is slow and torturous, each touch and kiss igniting something deeper within you. When he finally enters you, he pauses, his forehead resting against yours as he lets you adjust. The connection between you feels almost too much to bear, too intimate, too perfect.

“Are you okay?” he asks, his voice strained with restraint.

“Yes,” you breathe, your hands gripping his shoulders. “Please, Chris.”

And then he moves, setting a rhythm that has you gasping and clinging to him. It’s overwhelming in the best way, every sensation heightened by the emotions coursing through you. You lose yourself in him, in the way he feels, the way he makes you feel.

His pace quickens, his grip on you tightening as he brings you closer to the edge. The sounds he makes—the low groans, the way he murmurs your name—push you over, your release crashing over you in waves. Chris follows soon after, his body trembling against yours as he collapses beside you.

For a while, the only sound is your labored breathing. He pulls you into his arms, his lips pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “You’re amazing,” he says, his voice laced with affection and exhaustion.

You fall asleep in his arms, feeling safer and more cherished than you ever have before.

But when you wake up the next morning, the bed is cold. Chris is gone.

a/n: lmk what you guys think!!

[faithshouseofsmut]

We shouldn’t be doing this|| Kimi Raikkonen x reader

Warnings- teasing any p in v

Summary— you’ve been sneaking around with your brothers best friend

We shouldn’t be doing this” you mumble against Kimi’s lips as the two of you rush to take off your clothes.

“Why scared your brother would find out?” Kimi says kissing down your jaw to your neck.

“He’ll freak out”

“You keep saying that and yet you keep coming back” Kimi says his hips grinding against yours making you let out a small moan.

“He’s going to start getting suspicious” you gasp as Kimi nips at your breast, his lips working their way down your body.

”You do realize I have to explain the hickies” you huff wrapping your fingers in his hair.

He grins “you just have to come up with a good excuse”

You bite down on his shoulder feeling a mark there will definitely be the truth of what you’ve been doing with his older best friend. His hands were working your body like he knew your body better than you did, he seemed to

Instantly know all your weak spots

“Kimi we really shouldn’t -'' you moan but you can’t make you stop him as he slips in between your legs.

“You really want me to stop?”

His voice is low and husky, and it sends shivers down your spine and your head nodding as you can’t find the words.

”That’s what I thought” he says before leaning down and capturing your lips with his own.

The two of you stayed in that kiss for a few minutes, the passion between you was strong and it sent your head spinning in the best way possible.

”If you want me to stop you have to say so” he whispers against your lips. You feel breathless from the way he’s made you feel, your skin feels like it’s on fire as you look up at him. You don’t want him to stop, not when he makes you feel like this, you need him.

Slowly you reach up and cup his cheek “please don’t stop”

“That’s what I thought” he says, a smirk on his face as he pushes you back down into the mattress.

His lips trail down your body teasing you as he goes, a teasing hand trailing after his lips. You’re shivering as he goes lower and lower down your body

The fire in your body is growing, his touch stoking the flames as his hand finally reaches the place you need him most.

”Kimi” you gasp as his fingers work their magic on your sensitive skin.

His smirk only seems to grow as the sound of his name falling from your lips spurs him on. His fingers continue to tease you, bringing you right to the edge but refusing to let you fall over it

He’s enjoying teasing you but you’re going crazy

Every time you think he’s going to make you fall he stops, the teasing is becoming too much for you.

“Please” you beg him looking down at him

“Please what?”

He knows what you’re begging him for but he wants to hear you say it, you know that and it’s embarrassing. You bite your lip, you want him so bad. You can’t imagine anyone else making you feel this way you want no one else but him.

“Please, I need you” you gasp begging him

He gives you a satisfied smile before pulling his fingers away from you. Before you can protest you feel him slide between your legs making you let out a moan.

“I’ve been thinking about this since the last time” he whispers into your skin.

Then he pushes into you slowly and you can’t think anymore. The only thing you want is him, you’d sell your soul to have him.

The way he looks at you makes you shiver as he starts to move, every touch and every kiss leaving you breathless.

Your eyes flutter shut as you let the overwhelming sensation take over. It feels incredible, he makes you burn with need and lust.

“Look at me” he grunts in your ear nipping at your earlobe. He wants to watch you as he makes you his, his eyes burning as he stares into your own.

You let the noises fall freely from you, knowing he likes the way he makes you sound.

Your voice encourages him to keep going, his hands running up and down your body as if he can’t get enough of you. He’s addicted to you the same way you’re addicted to him.

“Kimi, I can’t-“ you gasp out.

He lets out a low chuckle at the sound you’ve made, if he can make you say his name like that he’s doing everything right.

He’s watching you closely, he knows that you’re close just by how your breathing has changed.

You can barely take it anymore, your head is spinning the pleasure is too much. You’re completely breathless as he continues to bring you closer and closer to the edge.

”I’m so close, please don’t stop” you gasp.

As if he could stop at this point, you can tell by the way his hips falter that he’s close too. He’s not going to stop now.

He reaches up and captures your mouth in a heated kiss, his hand still working your body as his hips move faster.

Your entire body is wound tight, you can’t hold back anymore and you crash over the edge. He follows soon after and you cling to each other coming down from the high.

Your entire body is covered in a thin sheen of sweat and your breaths come out in pants as you cling to each other. You’re both breathless and spent

“Now how are you going to explain the hickies?” He teases looking down at your chest.

You hum a little as you look at your chest and it’s covered in love bites and hickeys. You know trying to find an excuse is going to be a struggle as you look at the dark purple bruises marking your skin.

Kimi seems pretty proud of himself as he looks at the evidence of his work.

“Maybe I’ll say I feel down the stairs” you say trying to think up excuses that aren’t going to sound pathetic.

“Very believable” he sarcastically responds to your excuse. You can’t help but laugh a little at his comment. Despite the hickies you can’t regret it, the times you get with him are too good.

You and Kimi settle down in the bed holding onto each other, your head on his chest. He’s playing with your hair and you’re drawing shapes on his skin. Despite the circumstances the moment feels so loving and you can’t help but wish things were different.

“Yeah you’re lucky you are worth this” you giggle before leaning up and kissing him softly.

He laughs but allows you to kiss him, his thumb gently tracing over the hickies he’s given you. The two of you lay there together enjoying each other’s company, his hand gently rubbing your back in soothing motions. It’s these quiet moments that you treasure, before reality would come crashing back in and you’d have to act like there was nothing going on between you.

[charleslelurk]

lestappen + edging + ruined orgasm!!

For you 😘 Probably sappier than "ruined orgasm" would normally be interpreted, but that's sort of my MO

Lestappen + edging + ruined orgasm

From here

If Charles loses his mind, this is how it will happen. Right here, right now. 

Charles has no idea how long Max has been at it. He'd let Charles come once with his mouth, hours ago, to take the edge off, to make this possible, and now he's brought Charles nearly there again a half dozen times. He keeps switching between fucking Charles and licking him, has fully eaten his own come from his first orgasm back out of Charles and slicked him all back up again with spit. 

Charles's entire body is quaking, muscles having minds of their own as his body feels overwhelmed, a live wire ready to snap and crackle. Max has to pin his legs down with an iron grip around his thighs every time he goes back in with his tongue because Charles can't stop from kicking his legs out to attempt to relieve some of the way his body feels on fire from Max's ministrations. 

Max pushes his cock back into Charles. 

"So good for me, so good," Max lisps, and Charles throws his head to the side, eyes closed. Even hearing Max speak feels like too much at this point, knowing he is pushing those words past his puffy lips that have been on Charles's rim again and again tonight. Charles needs to be put in a deprivation tank if he is going to survive this. He is sweating, chest bright pink, cock painfully hard and leaking, mind delirious. He's going to kill Max.

Max grinds into him deeply, not even thrusting, knowing that would end his playtime with Charles. Instead, he presses his hips flush to Charles's and pushes him up the bed with it, uses his hands on Charles's wrists, pinning them above his head, as leverage to force his blunt cock as far into Charles as it will go. Charles is shaking with it; the feeling of being full is everything he needs but also what is lighting him on fire. He's oversensitive and grinding his teeth and knitting his brows and tightening his abs and moaning like he's in pain and–

Max pulls his arms to trap both of Charles's dainty wrists in one of his hands and reaches between them to gently hold Charles's angry cock. Charles just about chokes, could not imagine it could get worse, but Max hasn't touched his cock since the first time he'd pressed into Charles and he'd nearly forgotten his cock existed for the last twenty minutes with how much the rest of him feels like bubbling lava. 

"Max, I–"

Max removes his hand quickly, instead runs it up Charles's side from the dip of his waist, across the washboard of his ribs, and into his arm pit. 

"Color?" Max asks. 

Charles closes his eyes again, focuses to get the right word out of his mouth. "Green."

"Good, good."

Max is still grinding his cock into Charles, slowly and deeply, like kneading bread dough. Charles has proved for hours though. He feels like he's sinking into a tar pit, outside his body as he tries to bear it, tries to be good for Max. He will get to come when Max wants him to, and it will be worth it, it always is. He tries to breathe deeply, past the way his slowly building orgasm is about to bubble over again and he won't get to come again. 

"Charles?"

Charles thinks he hums in response.

"Charles, open your eyes for me."

Charles does. He yanks up his eyelids to allow the light in and see Max above him. His hips have stilled as he looks down at Charles with a knit brow. 

"Color?"

"Green," Charles says quietly. He's fine, he can do this. He just needs his skin to stop feeling like it's going to be peeled off if Max doesn't let him come soon. 

Max pulls out and Charles shakes with the feeling of being empty, missing the pressure and stimulation of something inside him even if it was way too much, had his blood burning and his dick aching and his chest heaving. 

Max pins his legs down and Charles prepares to feel Max's lips on his rim again. Despite himself, he clenches his muscles, preparing for the next torture. He closes his eyes. 

He jerks in surprise when Max presses a gentle kiss to the inside of his thigh, just a brush of lips against his sensitive, ticklish skin. 

"Baby?" Max sounds worried. 

"Max?"

A rough hand strokes down his thigh, his legs no longer pinned. "You're coming."

"I am not."

The hand keeps stroking his leg. "Yes." Max's voice is quiet with shock, but also like he doesn't want to scare Charles, like he's a deer ready to wave its tail in surrender. 

It's not possible. He can't imagine what Max thinks he's seen, how he could mistake it. Charles would know, his body wouldn't still feel like this, ablaze and as hot as the sun's surface. 

Charles peels his eyes open again to look down his body at Max. He follows Max's gaze to the spill of come on his stomach, silvery and glistening, his cock spilling the last of his unsatisfactory orgasm onto his skin. 

Inexplicably, Charles whines. 

"Charlie?"

Max's hand running up and down his thigh is suddenly too much, it's all too much, Charles can't do it anymore. 

"Red," he says, and then lets out a heaving sob from his chest, closing his eyes again. 

Max immediately tries to bundle Charles into his arms, but Charles is too overwhelmed, it just makes everything worse. "No, no, no, no, no."

Max finally figures out Charles is saying no to him and puts a few inches between them. "Baby, what can I do?"

But Charles can't articulate anything else past the way he still feels wound up even though his dick is soft, and somewhere in his abdomen his orgasm still feels mostly built and none of it was worth it. 

Charles finally tunes back into Max when a bottle of water is shoved into his hand. The shock of the cold plastic snaps him out of it for a moment and his eyes stop watering for long enough for him to get the cap off and chug half of it. 

"Can I?" Max asks and Charles blinks a few times and realizes Max is perched on the edge of the mattress, a warm cloth in hand. He wants to clean Charles off.

"I– I don't know." He doesn't realize until the words are out of his mouth that he is speaking French, but it's simple enough that Max can understand. Charles still feels overwhelmed, his brain stings to use too much and his skin is sort of on fire still. He's mouth-breathing he feels so out of it, panting like a dog trying to get a respite. He thinks if Max touches him, he might start having a fucking breakdown all over again.

Max offers the cloth to Charles instead and Charles takes it with a shaking hand. Max watches Charles fumble through wiping off his own stomach, hands twitching like he wants to help the whole time. 

They don't immediately go to bed. Max makes Charles eat, and then makes Charles do his skincare routine so he won't be grumpy in the morning. Doing something a little normal helps calm Charles down even though he can still feel the live wire in him somewhere, like he hasn't come all week long. 

By the time they are back on the mattress, Charles can bear to have Max touch him again. And his brain is working enough to talk. Max questions him about how it felt, all of it. 

"But were you overwhelmed good, or overwhelmed bad?"

"I was being so overwhelmed I was going somewhere else." Charles says into Max's chest, face buried against the soft cotton of his Red Bull t-shirt.

Max takes a shaky breath. "That's when you should use your safeword, of course. That's bad bad."

"I wanted to come when you wanted me to come. I wanted to go as long as you wanted."

Max laughs without humor, chest jumping against Charles's face. "Charles, you don't push through like a workout, that's how you get hurt."

"Oh."

Max cradles the back of Charles's head to hold him more firmly against his chest. "You have to take care of yourself." It sounds like I love you.

[zmorak]

The blue light blinds him, but he keeps his eyes open, refusing to look away as Edwin leaves. And Edwin does leave, back ramrod-straight and shoulders tense, a posture Charles knows to mean he's barely holding it together.

Edwin leaves him, because he has to, because if Death catches him he'll end up back in Hell. Charles doesn't begrudge him for the leaving part, he understands why Edwin leaves. He tries to understand why he doesn't turn around one more time.

The blue light subsides and it's strange -- he feels warm for the first time in ages, almost as if sunlight was tickling his skin. It feels foreign, not exactly wrong but uncomfortable all the same, and he shivers in surprise.

"HELLO, CHARLES."

He doesn't startle when the words greet him behind his back, he knew She was coming, he knew it was only a matter of time. He turns around slowly, begrudgingly, stretching those last moments of freedom as much as he can will himself to.

It's not the first time he sees Death -- the many close calls over the years made him all too familiar with her, the shockingly kind smile forever burned in the back of his brain. Still, standing face-to-face with her is another matter entirely, and it's like he's never seen her before.

She towers over him, despite somehow being a few inches shorter, her presence overwhelming and all-encompassing, and ringing in his ears with an echo of the organs he remembers from his church days. She's looking directly at him, deep dark eyes drilling into his very essence, endlessly patient and horribly understanding. He doesn't feel afraid all of a sudden, but it still burns in a peculiar way, a sting of anticipation and a mouthful of grief.

"I'm not going," is the first thing he says, his voice breaking around the protest, sounding petulant even to his own ears. She tilts her head, curious, and he wonders if he's imagining the amusement in the corners of her lips.

"I am not going," he repeats, irrationally emboldened, a straw-made argument slowly taking form in his head, "He can say he's satisfied with his care all he wants, but he cannot tell me whether my business is unfinished or not. That's mine to decide, innit?"

He's rambling, he knows, sticking together words as he sees fit, uncaring whether they make sense or not. He's not sure what he's hoping to achieve -- he's not so disillusioned to think that he'll convince Death to let him go, but maybe, maybe if he stalls long enough, Edwin will barge in with another solution that will fix him, and they'll be able to run away together.

"If you really think about it, my business is forever unfinished - can't stop caring for someone, am I right? He can't tell me I'm done with caring for him, he can't tell me he's satisfied with all that when I know he's not. Is this really finished business when one of the parties is lying? And even if he's telling the truth, he doesn't get to make the final call, it's my afterlife, and if I want to fade into oblivion I will fade into oblivion, damn it-"

She's laughing. Death is laughing at him -- well, it's more of a chuckle, but the sentiment remains. It's a nice chuckle, deep and smooth like hot chocolate, ringing quietly in the air. He gawks at her, jaw falling open in bafflement. He's pouring his heart out in this dingy little attic (and isn't that ironic?), and she's laughing at him? Something starts building underneath his skin, red and angry and ugly, but it disappears just as quickly when She looks at him, the laughter fading out in the air.

He's not sure what he expects -- an apology, maybe, an explanation for sure, anything to clarify the situation. He gets none of that. Instead,

"WILL YOU TRUST ME?," She asks, and just like that, all the fight rushes out of him, his shoulders sagging in defeat. No more drawing it out, he surmises, as She holds out a hand to him in invitation.

He takes her hand and closes his eyes.

.

.

.

.

.

There's a touch on his forehead, sun-warm and feather-light, and the air around him suddenly starts smelling like spring. He opens his eyes as She leans away, smiling still, the touch of her lips on his head trickling down his body like a blessing. Nothing happens.

"I... I don't understand," he breathes, searching her face for any sort of explanation. She waves her hand, and an image pops out in the empty space next to her, a little cloud like a TV screen. And there, clear as a day, is Edwin -- when he first found him, during their first case and then every next one, in their office, in Port Townsend -- every little moment they shared, flashing before his eyes, making him dizzy.

He doesn't dare hope when he looks back at her, but any doubt he has disappears when She gives him the tiniest of nods, approving,

"FEELS LIKE HEAVEN, DOESN'T IT?" She asks, still so kind and patient, but there's true joy there too. His breath hitches in his throat, tears he didn't realise were flowing freely coating his lips in a salty layer. It feels too good to be true, and yet when he looks at Death, he knows in his heart it is real. She cradles his cheek, wiping some of the droplets away, and he dares to close his eyes. She's still looking at him when he opens them, and steps away when he finally finds his legs again.

"GO, CHARLES ROWLAND," she says instead of goodbye, "YOUR HEAVEN AWAITS."

He doesn't need any more encouragement.

Charles Rowland runs.

“You don’t have to worry, Edwin’s the best in the biz. I’d know, I was sort of his first case - “

“Yes, well, be that as it may, if you do not feel assured of the quality of our services you are not required to employ them. On the other hand, there is the matter of payment…”

—

“Don’t ever say that again.”

“Huh? Say what?”

“You were not my first case.”

“What? Why not? I mean, I was the first ghost you helped.”

“Because cases are closed. They are closed, and then the client leaves.”

“Oh.”

“Quite.”

“Well… well the case is only closed when the client is satisfied, yeah? And I’ll only ever be satisfied if I’m with you. So by definition my case can’t ever be closed. I’m never leaving you, Edwin.”

—

“What about you, Charles?”

“What about me what, Crystal?”

“I mean, I know Edwin’s some kind of weirdo exception because he’s not supposed to be here. But you’re basically just a normal ghost, right? And if all ghosts have unfinished business - what’s yours?”

“I don’t really have one, either - “

“His first client.”

“Huh?”

“The first ghost he saw and chose to help. The case was never closed. A perpetually unsatisfiable client.”

—

“Edwin, no!”

“Charles. I have read every book, consulted every witch, wizard, or warlock. You cannot be cured. Either you move onto your afterlife, or you fall into oblivion. There is no other way.”

“No, Edwin, please - “

“I am satisfied with my care.”

“No, no, please.”

“I am your unfinished business, Charles. And your unfinished business is done. I am satisfied with my care.”

“Edwin, NO!”

“I am satisfied with my care.”

“No!”

[herewithinthevoid]

𝖇𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖙𝖍𝖑𝖊𝖘𝖘𝖑𝖞 𝖊𝖓𝖗𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖚𝖗𝖊𝖉

𖹭

uncensored artwork of moth shigaraki and my oc lyssa by Abysmal0 on my bluesky and twitter

[cathnospam]

Content Warning: College MHA AU, Oral (F! Receiving), Bakugo being Bakugo, Reassurance, SoftDom!Bakugo

You cried during sex and it freaked Bakugo out…

“B-bab—-y/n?!” The soft concerned look on his face in contrast on what he was just doing between your thighs was almost enough to make you break into a chuckle.

Not knowing what personal space is he cupped your chubby tear stained cheeks with his warm sweaty palm and rubbed the wetness away the best he could, “Why didn’t you use the safe word?!”

You blink, you could feel your high slowly wearing off if it wasn’t for his knee rubbing up against your clit. He didn’t even realize he was so close. “Huh?”

“Did I hurt you? Why —why didn’t—“

The tears just flowed naturally from your face, this was your first time with him and this new feeling of passion left you overwhelmed, his kissed, his curious touches, the groans and pants coming from you both as you rolled around in the messed up sheets of his bed.

His mouth was just as curious and intense as his hands, and in Bakugo fashion he gave it his all, looking up over the valley of your pretty breast to take notes of your reactions; to watch your face change when his tongue flicks in a new area, his lips practically made out with your lower ones which drew out a slurry “Katsuki~” and whine, which turned him on so much he kept doing so until he slid his thick muscle inside you, his ego inflated in ways he didn’t think could hearing you whine and moan for him, he grew confident, shaking his head back and fourth, in circles softly groaning while the slick mixture of his drool and your arousal. His forearm holding down your thighs to get a wider view of your his pretty pussy.

Who knew he was such a messy eater.

But he stopped, you started crying.

The blonde would first hurt himself before he ever hurts you, especially after giving him the chance to share such an intimate moment . He panicked.

“Katsuki, it’s okay.” You cut off his stammers, his voice was already cracking, you tend to forget how sensitive he really is under that hard exterior. You rose your back up on the headboard and pulled him down, his arms changing you in on the side of you, “I wasn’t in pain. It was the opposite.”

“How, dumbass you fucking—“

“Shut up.” You try to keep a deadpanned face, but the scent of your pussy on his breath made you subtly bite your lip, it was hot. “Well first off you were overstimulating me. Secondly, sometimes we can instinctively cry when something feels good or overwhelming, kinda like when you see people cry during weddings. They’re…happy tears.”

His face was pouted, small beads of sweats trickling down his forehead, and cheeks so warm and squishy you pinch ‘em to get a reaction out of him, “Tch….i knew that.”

“….I was really making you feel good?”

You smile, landing a slow kiss on his slightly thinner ones and tugging his fattier lower lip, you nod, “You made me feel really good. So good I cried. It’s a compliment.”

Bakugo ponded for a few seconds,finally relaxing his body to let you hold him for a moment, your heart beats laid in sync with each other, enjoying the quiet ambiance of his dorm , naked and comfortable.

“Do you still wanna keep going or wanna try again later?”

“Only…only if you want to—-I mean I do obviously, but I don’t wanna make it weird.”

“You couldn’t make it weird if you tried I wanna keep going….i was close.” You fake pouted at him, a crack of the smile came from Bakugo, he sighed in fake annoyance rising up,

“Then lay back,” He says as he pulls you by your thighs so you can lie flat on your back, “this time don’t cover your mouth when I eat you, okay? ….You sound hot.”

“We won’t hear the end of it in class tomorrow…”

“I don’t give a fuck.” His last words were muffed by his lips pressing against your sticky gooey pussy.

[dcvilbcy]

If Lorcan was being honest, he hadn't fully given into the idea of getting back together with Tim back on the rooftop. It was too exposing, too overwhelming. "Back together" - is that what this was? Certainly not apart anymore. Or some secret third option where they could be with each other as much as they wanted in the evening, but only stare at each other from a distance in the daylight? Lorcan didn't know, but before he could think of more options of what to call this stage of relationship, Tim's lips were pressed to his cheek and that hand was touching bare skin. Skin that needed that touch so badly.

And that was when he gave in. Lorcan could feel a collapsing of the walls he'd built up in his chest, finally feeling safe enough and bold enough to melt into his ex. Not an ex anymore, his brain helpfully supplies, something else entirely. Something that he was choosing not to name for now, or else he might just get distracted from how good it felt to give in.

"I was," I still am, "I would make you anything you wanted," Just say the word, "But I'm definitely not going to complain if you just wanted to keep touching me." Please don't stop. He spoke between peppering kisses, a hand coming up to the back of Tim's head and carding through his curls, leading their lips together with a guidance far more confident than Lorcan actually felt.

Tim's confident swagger blows away at Lorcan's admission.

"I'm sorry," he says, tilting his head forward to rest their foreheads together. "I'm just not used to fully functional adult Lorcan. You used to be so adorable acting all mature running around with his apartment and new job. Almost like you were trying to impress me."

It had worked. Fresh out of high school, and Tim thought they'd be together, if not forever, than at least many more years.

"But now you are that adult, and it's undeniably sexy. So if you want to make me food, I'd love some just as long as you're okay with me being right behind you and touching you everywhere I can."

He kisses Lorcan's cheek while his hands move to the hem of his shirt, slipping under to touch the smooth skin of his back.

[ickygojo]

𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐒, fetishes & turn ons . . . 𝐎𝐇 𝐌𝐘 .ᐟ

wc. 893

( # ) SYNOPSIS: gojo, geto, toji, sukuna & what i think some of their kinks would be.

( # ) CONTENT: mdni // dead dove. afab! reader. oral (f), overstimulation, p in v, begging, teasing, praise & degrading, cockwarming, slight somnophilia, daddy kink, nippleplay, consensual non con.

GOJO . . . enjoys overstimulation, especially when it comes to giving you head. your clit is already sensitive to the touch, so much so that he cannot place a finger on your bare clit without you gasping and squirming, shooting sensations pulsing from that area. he has to rub you over your clitoral hood, so that there’s at least a soft, cushiony barrier between your most sensitive parts, and his roughened thumb; but when it comes to his mouth, it’s just heavenly. the way he laps you up, tongue peeking into your hole as deep as it will go, pushing in a finger as his mouth works on your clit, sucking and swirling. after a bit, you start to get overwhelmed, the sensations coming from your abdomen making you squirm almost out of his grip. “mmhnnn.” satoru shakes his head slightly, wrapping strong arms around your already shaking thighs. “please, no more, i can’t take it.” you plead with him, just before his mouth releases your clit with a wet and sloppy ‘pop’ before telling you, “you’ll take as much as i want you to. you’re mine.” viciously sucking at you until you’ve came, again and again.

GETO . . . likes cockwarming. sometimes it was while he was on the game, noticing you walking around the house in damn near nothing, whistling to get your attention. he would pull his shorts down just enough, motioning for you to come sit on his lap. of course you had no issue with this, discarding your panties to go sit on his lap, with his cock buried deep inside of you. sometimes you would wiggle around and earn a harsh slap to your ass, or what he could reach of it. other times he was thrusting into you after losing, or even winning a match. you didn’t mind, as long as he was giving you attention. sometimes cockwarmimg geto was a little different, like when he is tired and needy, snuggling with you in bed. he can feel your ass pressed against him, and whether you were trying or not, you made him hard. sometimes he will pull off his shorts, sticking the tip against you and if you’re wet enough, it slides right in. you can hear him hum softly, settling in, feeling the warmth of your walls, he wraps his arms around you to sleep for the night. once he wakes in the morning, and realizes his cock is still hard and inside of you, he fucks you awake.

TOJI . . . has a daddy kink, ironically. it started off as just a joke, him calling himself big daddy, or telling you he was your daddy; and at first, you didn’t know how to feel about it, but weeks of thinking, and possibly some subliminal conditioning from your lovely, perverted boyfriend had changed your mind. “do it, slut.” he was hovered over you, tip of his cock pressed against your slick hole, teasing, but only enough to have you frustrated and almost begging. he wouldn’t put it in until— “say it.” he demanded of you, hand coming up to grip your soft cheeks, keeping your focus on him. you wanted to, but it felt so foreign on your tongue, saying it when you were alone just to get a taste of the word in your mouth. “daddy?” you finally let it slip, your voice light and airy, the word coming out almost as if it were a question. “that’s it, good. say it again, like you mean it.” less demanding this time, but he still wouldn’t put it in until he was satisfied, and he could tell it was bothering you. the way you wiggled your hips and tried your best to push yourself down onto his cock, but it was useless in that position, lying on your back you were helpless beneath him. “daddy please.” this time it sounded better, more natural as the words just fell off of your tongue, begging him to finally wreck you; to which he did, until you were a crying and cumming mess.

SUKUNA . . . likes cnc. he rather enjoys watching you squirm and cry beneath him, begging for him to stop. you’ve already established a safeword, and he always confirms it before going into a scene; knowing that if that word fell from your lips, he would stop immediately. “baby, what’s your safeword?” he asks you, and once you respond he begins to push himself onto you, feeling up your thighs, squishing soft skin and pushing his rough fingers between the warmth of them. “please..” you whimper, knowing it turns him on to hear you beg. he ignores you, his free hand pulling your tank top down to reveal your chest and already budding nipples. with his head dipping down to put one in his mouth, his other hand worked his way up your thighs and right against your panties. “please, stop!” you protest, gasping at the feeling of his teeth, nipping and sucking before releasing their grip, his fingers down below pushing past the fabric of lace, plunging themselves into your sweet dripping hole. “you know you want this, that’s why you don’t fight me.” the man snickered at your obedience, the way your hole clenched around his fingers when he spoke. “relax, enjoy this.” he hums, pumping his fingers in and out until you’re begging for him to let you cum.