#and nothing can help. nothing will help. nothing. literally not one word is reassuring to me despite knowing they mean well

[kirsteinsluvx]

royal knight!satoru x princess!reader - angst, fluff, forbidden relationships, eventual smut, 4.7k words. first fic kinda nervous lol!

Satoru had been sent off to battle, it's been weeks now with no news back from him, you spent your nights wondering if he was even alive, if he'd ever come back to you. While he was gone, it had been the worst few months of your life as a dreadful decision had been made for you.

You're in your private royal chambers when all of a sudden the door swings open, revealing a bruised satoru, he steps in locking the door behind him. He approaches you sat on the edge of you bed and gets down on one knee, kissing your hand. "I have returned, your highness." He says with a smirk like he always does, except this time he looks exhausted, he looks as though he came straight from the battlefield.

You help him up off his knees and get him up to sit on the edge of the bed, "Come here, get up" you whisper. He lets you help him onto the bed and a small grunt of pain escapes his lips as he winces from one of his bruises. Once you guide him to sit on the bed and he grabs your wrist lightly to pull you closer to him, wanting you to stand between his spread legs so he can look up at you.

"Oh God... what happened to you?" Your eyes fill up with concern as you cup his face studying the state of him, noticing the bruises and cuts from battle, how he reeks of blood sweat and smoke. he can tell that you’re upset and the sight of your eyes welling up with tears has his usual cocky smirk disappearing.

He sighs deeply and his hands go to your waist, the coldness of his hand seeping through your nightgown, he looks up at you "I got into a pretty tough fight... nothing I couldn’t handle though.." he reassures you faintly.

He reaches up to gently wipe the tears away with his thumb, he frowns when he sees the tears streaming down your face and he hates himself for making you cry, for making you worry so much. He pulls you closer towards him and presses his forehead against your chest as he whispers softly. "hey..I’m okay, please don’t cry.." he was always so gentle with you.

"I'm sorry, I just thought I had lost you" you sniffle your hand going through his hair.

He hums softly as you run your fingers through his hair, he always loved when you play with his hair and he sighs softly again at the feeling of your fingers running through his messy white locks as he relaxes into your touch.

He chuckles softly, his voice slightly strained. "you could never lose me princess.. I promised you I’d always come back.. you can’t get rid of me that easily". You laugh softly at that wiping your tears.

He buries his face against your chest, inhaling your scent and relishing the familiar smell of you, his strong arms around your waist keep you from moving away as he nuzzles his face against you.

After a few minutes of embracing each other, you say softly. "Let me take care of you... get u out of this armour, give you a bath, hm?"

He nods lightly in response, pulling away from you, his hands going to the straps of his armour, working on unbuckling them, however from the exhaustion of the fight his hand are quite shaking slightly and he’s struggling to undo the straps.

her softer hands covers his shaking calloused hands "I got it, don't worry.."

he immediately stops what he’s doing and allows you to take over, he can tell that you want to take care of him, which he secretly loves.

He places his hands lightly on your hips as you take care of unbuckling the heavy straps that hold his now damaged and scratched armour on. He looks up at you as you work on his gear and a small tender smile forms on his bruised yet handsome features, he was quite literally perfect you thought.

As you remove the last strap of his armour, his chest is now bare and exposed to you, his muscular torso now littered with bruises and scratches. a small wince escapes his lips as you run a hand over one of the nasty gashes on his chest, you flinch taking your hand back whispering a small sorry, he smiles slightly in reassurance, noticing the worried look in your eyes "Hey, hey.. I’m alright princess, it barely hurts im promise.."

"okay then.. im going to get the bath started..." your murmur wearily taking in his state, then you go to the your adjoining bathroom, filling the tub with hot water, aromatic essential oils and relaxing bath salts.

After a few minutes, Satoru hears the water has stopped running so he assumes his bath is ready. He stands up, still only in his trousers and he goes to lean against the door frame of the bathroom, he stands there and watches you as you prepare the bath for his beaten body, his eyes fixated on your figure as he just stares at you. You turn and find him watching you, you smile softly and go to take his hand. "come on..."

He smiles slightly as you take his hand, his larger hand engulfing yours as he intertwines his fingers with yours as you lead him to the bath tub he lets out a satisfied hum noting how nice the water smell, appreciating the effort you went to for him.

You turn away from him so that he can get fully naked and climb into the tub. he finds it quite sweet how you’re still shy even though you both have seen each other naked several times before, he laughs to himself and he starts unbuttoning his trousers and pushes them down his toned legs, stepping out of them until he’s completely naked before he slowly sinks into the warm water.

"hey..." You say softly as you go to kneel besides the tub, you get a washcloth to help clean him up. He smiles lazily his eyes filled with love and adoration for you, as you kneel beside the tub, his eyes following your every move as you start gently cleaning him up with the washcloth.

He grins cheekily, though you can tell he's tired from the way he speak, "not gonna join me?" To which you burst out giggling hitting him lightly with the washcloth"no way you pervert, you're covered in blood and dirt."He grins glad to see you finally smiling.

He likes the way you take care of him, he notices how you look at his injured body and he can see the concern in your expression but he doesn’t say anything about it, he just lets you nurse him he relaxes even more and leans back into the tub, his eyes half lidded, occasionally looking up at your concerned pretty face.

Once you're done cleaning him up, you come back with the towel, he silently stands up from the tub, the water dripping down his naked and bruised body as he steps out and he allows you to wrap the towel around his waist, his muscles still on full display as he stands in front of you, the material just barely clinging onto his sculpted waist.

You lead him back to your bedroom, intertwining his fingers with yours as he follows you. the towel riding dangerously low on his hips as he walks behind you, his eyes watching your lovely figure from behind. He can't help it when his gaze drops to your hips, admiring the way they slightly sway as you walk, the thin material of your night dress clinging to your lovely curves and accentuating them beautifully.

He tries to ignore the thoughts as he reminds himself that you had just spent over an hour cleaning and pampering him, he should be grateful and appreciate you and your concern instead of having such filthy thoughts about you now, he can't help it though it's been so long. Unaware of the lewd thoughts he's having you help him get dressed in clothes you found for him, you then sit him down on the edge of your bed and apply some ointment to his cuts.

You stand in front of him moving some of his damp hair out of his eyes, "how are you feeling now..?"He exhales softly, his expression softening slightly as he looks up at you and answers your question in a quiet voice. "I'm feeling a little better now.. thank you princess."

You study his face to make sure he's not lying about feeling better. Now that you had taken care of him, and he's not as shaken as he was when he stumbled into your room, you thought it was time to finally let him know. You stroke his cheek gently with your thumbs "I need to tell you something..."

He hums softly as you continue to stroke his cheek gently with your thumbs, his eyes still locked onto your pretty face as he gazes up at you, he can sense that you're hesitant about saying whatever it is you have to say, and it makes him slightly worried. He tilts his head slightly, his expression turning soft and patient as he looks at you, silently asking you to continue and to say what's on your mind.

"while you were away... a lot happened here..." you start off, your hands stills cupping his face as you step closer to stand between his legs.

He immediately becomes concerned and anxious as you say those words, his heart rate instantly picking up as he becomes worried about what you're going to say. He can tell that something has happened while he was off fighting and he has a feeling that it's nothing good. He reaches forward, gently grabbing your wrists as he silently encourages you to continue, his eyes locked on your face intently as he waits for you to speak.

You don't know how to word it, how to tell him without breaking his heart, so you just blurt it out. "im engaged now satoru" you whisper shakily. He looks up at you, his expression immediately changing to one of complete shock, pain and anger all at once. He feels like he's had the rug pulled out from under him, the words you had just said replaying in his head over and over, the realisation and shock that you're engaged now, not to him, but to someone else. He knew the day would one day come, but so soon, he couldn't believe it. He grips your wrists tighter as his jaw clenches, he's struggling to find something to say, his mind is in complete disarray as he just stares at you with an almost betrayed expression.

"What?" He whispers almost not believing it. "I'm sorry" is all you say, tears welling up in your eyes, the words sending daggers through his heart.

His heart clenches in his chest as you start apologising tears streaming down your face. His expression twisting into one of deep pain and anger but also of heartbreak and hurt.He doesn't want you to apologize, he just wants you to say that you're joking, to tell him that you're not actually engaged but the tears and sobs escaping your body indicates otherwise.He wants to pull you into his arms, to hug you and tell you that it's okay, but he's so conflicted, he's hurt.

He takes a deep shuddering breath, his grip on your wrists gone as he drops your hands. "Why.... how?" He manages to ask brokenly, his voice tight with suppressed anger and sadness.

"My parents" the king and queen, you hiccup trying to explain "they demanded it, i was meant to get married at 18 and im now 20 satoru they weren't going to wait much longer..."He scowls in displeasure as he hears that this was all the doing of your parents, his anger towards them instantly increasing as you explain that they had demanded that you get married and you were forced into it because you're now of age.

He runs a hand down his face as she tries to control the anger in his voice.. "Did you even try to refuse?"

"You already know I couldn't" you respond shakily. He feels his anger rising even more when you say you couldn't, he can only imagine how your parents made you feel and how they forced you into this engagement.

He lets out a sharp breath, his voice tight and low as he asks his next question.. "Who is he?"

"Prince Kento, of our allied nation... i think he's around your age..." you say weakly.

His heart clenches even more as you say that you're now betrothed to the crown prince of another nation, not only are you getting married off but you're also going to be away from him in another country... forever? Also the fact that he's around his age only adds more fuel to the fire of anger, jealousy and hurt stirring up inside him.

He forces himself to speak again, despite the tight feeling in his chest making it difficult to even breath.. "When's the wedding?"

"In three months" you choke out, the date had been haunting you ever since it had been set into stone.

He feels like he's going to be sick, the pain in his chest is unbearable as he seethes out his next words. "And you seriously agreed to this?" He knows he shouldn't be angry at you but he can't help it, he's angry at everyone involved.

"Please don't be mad at me" you sob into your hands as you stand before him.

He feels his heart twisting and clenching in his chest as you desperately plead for him not to be mad at you, your tears and sobs making it hard for him to breathe. He wants nothing more than to just pull you into his arms and comfort you, but the knowledge of your engagement is making it difficult for him to even speak.

"How can I not be mad at you?" He somehow gets out, his voice coming out strained through gritted teeth. Your heart completely sinks at that.

He clenches his jaw when you don't say anything, a mix of anger, hurt, despair and resignation building up in him. He still can't bring himself to look at your face, he's scared that when he looks into your tearful eyes, it'll just break him even more."Couldn't you have put up even a bit of a fight?"

"2 years I managed to stay unwed don't act like I didn't put up a fight." You bite back starting to feel frustrated that he's not being understanding.

He clenches his teeth even harder as you say that, the hurt and anger in his chest only growing even more worse with your words. He knew that you probably tried your best and put up a fight for two whole years to not get married, but the truth of the matter is that you failed in that fight and ended up getting engaged anyway. He finally manages to force himself to look up at you, staring into your teary eyes as he speaks quietly. "You still lost in the end.... you really let them win."

"Don't say that" you say trying to hold your ground wiping your face, and God does he hate to see you cry. The sight of you wiping your tears away, trying to hold yourself together while looking completely heartbroken and distraught, it's too much for him to bear. He wants to reach out and pull you tightly into his arms, to just hold you close and comfort you, but his own pain and emotions are keeping him from giving into his urge to do that. He grits his teeth, his voice getting even lower and more strained as he speaks again "It's the truth..."

"You're angry at me." you state blinking back more tears.

He feels his heart twist even more as you accuse him of being angry at you, his expression hardening even more as you speak. He can't deny that he is angry, he's angry at everything, angry at your parents, angry at you, angry at the entire situation, but most of all he's angry at himself. Angry at himself for even falling in love with you. A princess he knew he could not have.

He looks up at you, his blue eyes darkened

and pained as he speaks in an almost cold and emotionless voice... "yeah.. I am. Why wouldn't I be?"

Your heart breaks at his cold tone

"Satoru... please..." you reach for his hand.

He feels his throat constrict and his heart clench tightly as you softly speak his name in that pleading tone, "Don't." He growls out, pulling his hand away from your grasp and refusing to even look at you.

You feel sick with how he rejects you, your heart sinking even further.

His heart is in complete turmoil as he sees the way your face falls when he pulls away from your touch, his entire being is screaming at him to just pull you towards him and hold you close, but he refuses to give in to those urges, still angry and in pain over your engagement. He forces himself to keep his blue eyes averted from you and remain cold and unfazed as he speaks again. "You can't just expect me to act like everything is fine."

Seeing him act so cold towards you crushes you "Just listen to me please..." you please clinging to your nightgown your hands in small fists.

the sight of you looking so vulnerable and trying to hold yourself together,makes his heart ache in his chest and he silently hates himself for making you feel this way.

He takes a deep breath, trying to compose himself as he forces himself to keep his expression cold and distant as he nods for you to speak. "What?"

You then pour your heart out to him. "you're my first love Satoru, the first man to every understand me, the first man I ever kiss, the first and only man l've ever been with... you mean everything to me... if i could I would've married you in a heartbeat"

His breath audibly hitches as you whisper those words out, a mixture of emotions stirring up inside him as you admit that he was the first man you ever loved and that you were intimate with. Hearing you admit those things makes him feel a mix of anger, heartbreak and love. he hates how even now after discovering that you're going to marry another man, he still loves you so damn much. He grits his teeth, his heart twisting painfully as he speaks in a tight and strained voice... "And yet here you are, agreeing to get married to someone else... "

He was trying so hard to push you away now being cold.

"what do you suggest i do huh? you know they would never let me marry you..." you say letting him know the painful truth.

He scowls deeply, his heart clenching painfully at your question, knowing that you're right. He knows your parents would never let that happen, he was a warrior, an outsider, a mere knight, not of noble lineage, he was never going to be proper husband material for their precious princess... He scowls, his voice coming out low and bitter... "So you're just going to give up and listen to them? You'd rather marry some prince instead of fighting for us?"

His jaw clenched tightly as he continues speaking in a quiet, bitter voice. "You're just going to let them take you away and force you to marry someone you don't even love, just gonna be their obedient little princess?" He sneers.

"Don't say it like that..." you whisper,

He hates how you sound so defeated, how you're practically pleading for him to just... understand... and the worst part is that he does understand, of course he does.

"How else do you want me to say it?" He asks, his voice coming out low, bitter and cold. "I don't know..." you say shakily like you were going to burst into tears again.

His heart clenches at the sound of your shaky and vulnerable voice, at how your voice is sounding so small and close to sobbing again. He hates this, he hates how much he can hear the pain and hurt in your voice, hates how badly he wants to just pull you into his arms and hold you close, but the anger and hurt he's feeling is keeping him from doing so. He lets out a bitter and quiet huff, his voice coming out bitter and cold as he speaks again. "You're driving me insane..."

You step forward wanting to wrap your arms around him "forgive me... please forgive me..."He watches as you step forwards and reach out, your arms wanting to wrap themselves around him, your voice so shaky as you plead for him to forgive you, the sight of you looking and sounding so heartbroken finally breaks him.

In an instant, he's on you, his arms gripping you tightly and pulling you flush against his firm body as he buries his face against your neck, his hands clenching the fabric of your nightgown tightly.

"fucking hell... " He mutters against your skin. He holds onto you tightly, his big arms wrapping around you like a vice as he pulls you against his body, his face nuzzling into your neck, breathing in your scent as he struggles to control his emotions. He hates how much he loves you, he's angry, bitter, devastated, hurt. He lets out a shuddering breath, his voice coming out gruff and pained as he speaks into your skin... "I hate you so much right now... I hate you so damn much."

You nod, in his arms as you cling to him "I know... I know im sorry satoru im so sorry..."

He holds you against him tighter, feeling the way you cling onto him, the way you're sobbing into his chest as you continue apologising to him over and over again. It's driving him insane. He buries his face deeper into your neck, taking shaky breaths as he keeps you tightly in his embrace, his heart clenching at your sobs.

"Stop apologising... stop saying you're sorry..." He mutters in a low and pained voice into your skin. He can feel the way you're grasping onto him, he can feel the tears you're spilling into his chest, the way your body is shaking as you sob against him. It's killing him, he's never, not once, seen you this heartbroken and vulnerable before and he can't stand it.

"Please don't be mad at me please"

The words you whispered in a shaky and teary voice makes his chest twist painfully. He can hear the pleading tone in your voice, the way you're begging for him to not be mad at you, he can feel your body shaking against his own as you continue to cling onto him. He closes his eyes, his arms pulling you even more closely against him, his grip almost bruising as he answers you in a low and tense voice... "I'm trying not to be..."

He hates how weak he is to you, he hates how he can't deny you anything, how you can get under his skin so easily with just your words and pleas... no matter how angry and hurt he feels right now, no matter how badly he wants to lash out and take out all the pain and frustration he's feeling in that moment on you, he just can't do it.

He feels you tremble against him as he holds you against his body, the way your small body is shaking in his arms makes him feel even more frustrated and helpless.

He takes another shaky breath as he continues holding you against his body, his face still nuzzled into your neck as he mutters in frustration. "You're the bane of my existence."

He feels the way your body jerks slightly at his words, the way you stiffen ever so slightly at the harsh words that came out of his mouth. He knows he really shouldn't have said that, he really shouldn't, but the hurt and anger he's feeling right now are getting the better of him. He lets out a harsh, bitter scoff as he presses his face deeper into your neck, his lips almost brushing against your skin as he continues in that cold, low voice. "I wish I never met you"

He knows he's being harsh, he knows he's being an ass and that he shouldn't be taking his anger out on you, but right now, he can't help it. He's jealous, angry, hurt, so damn hurt at the reality of the situation.

He pulls you even closer to his body, his arms squeezing you so tightly it's almost like he's holding onto you for dear life. "and I hate that I still love you so goddamn much... "

"I love you I love you satoru please" you sob hard. He feels his body tense up even more, his chest clenching painfully when he hears you say those words, saying that you love him so desperately as you continue sobbing against his body.

"And I hate you. I do" He's such a liar, saying that he hates you while he keeps his strong arms wrapped around you, pulling you even more against him. He's a goddamn hypocrite and he knows it, but he just can't stop himself from acting the way he does around you.

Even through all the anger and hurt he feels, he still can't help but cling onto you desperately, not wanting to let you go. "Fuck... I hate you so fucking much... "

you pull away from his shoulder, your face nearing his. mere inches away from his lips "that's okay, you can hate me" you murmur so close to his lips, if hating you would help him feel better then so be it.

He tenses up more when you suddenly pull away from his shoulder, his body almost instinctively wanting to pull you back, but then you're so close again, your face only a few mere inches away from his, your breath brushing against his lips as you murmur those words he looks down at how inviting your lips look. The words 'hate me' leaves your mouth and it only pisses him off even more, his lips twisting into a scowl as he says back, his voice low and tense, his eyes fixed on your lips. "I hate your damn guts." He sees your lip quirk up slightly, he then instantly presses his lips to yours to which you eagerly welcome, your lips instantly molding against his, his arms tightening their grip on you even more.

The kiss is intense filled with hate, desperation, and passion. It is hot, messy and frenzied, filled with every emotion you're both feeling right now. He bites and nips at your bottom lip, his tongue licking and licking at the seam of your lips, almost like he's trying to devour you completely.

He deepens the kiss, wanting to taste every corner and inch of your mouth, his tongue and swirling around yours. His hands moving from your waist and slipping underneath the fabric of your nightdress, his calloused hands caressing and roaming over your bare skin, almost possessively as he kisses you hungrily, angrily...

pt. 2 coming soon! likes and reblogs much appreciated!!! hope u guys liked this ^_^

sword divider by @haonian

[bckybrnss]

it hurts my stomach // dean winchester x reader

summary • you wonder if your relationship with dean has officially run it’s course pairing • dean winchester x fem!reader warnings • angst with no happy ending, breakups/separation, dean’s been distant for a while, he’s kind of a dick in this one, dean & reader are falling out of love with each other, pain, overall very sad stuff, emotionally checked out of the relationship genre • angst word count • 1271 notes • stomach by aly & aj came up on shuffle and the idea hit me like a vision i immediately had to get this out simply for the line “i just can’t stomach being your ex-wife”

The boys were participating in their normal brotherly bickering. Dean, ever the grumpy of the two, was going on and on about how things went south on a hunt. Sam, the usual voice of reason between the two, was reassuring him that it was no big deal since the job still got done. You hated when they would bicker regardless of how big or small the issue was, usually being the one to constantly remind them that they were being stupid and ‘the only two I know who can say that they’ve literally been to hell and back for each other’.

It was silly really, feeling as if you had to test the waters almost three years into the relationship. The Dean you first met would’ve gotten a kick out of your silly puns and one-liners, it was one of the many reasons he fell in love with you in the first place. You were the comedic relief to Sam’s nagging, the one who kept him sane in the early days.

The motel room was thick with tension long after the argument had settled. It was mostly on Dean’s end, as Sam had gone on a walk to give his brother the space he needed. Dean was laying against the pillows, gaze fixed on whatever nonsense he could find on television to distract himself. He was halfway through a case of beer when you got out of the shower, figuring he must have made a quick store run while you were mid-hair routine.

It was an unspoken rule that whenever Dean made a store run that he would always make sure you got something sweet. Cookies, candy — hell, even the donuts in the convenience store display case would satisfy you. It’s been a long enough tradition that he couldn’t justify breaking that habit, going as far as putting his pride to the side after arguments and complicated hunts to come back with a bag of your favorite snacks.

That’s why it stung so much more to see the empty beer bottles on the nightstand next to him.

Normally after a hunt he’d be all over you, Sam giving you the space to make up for lost time much like he was tonight. Right now, it felt as if approaching Dean was the equivalent of detonating a bomb. He barely glanced your way as you made your way over to your side of the shared bed, shuffling closer to him as you settled under the blankets.

You could handle an angry Dean on a regular basis. Grumpy should’ve been his middle name with his constant bad moods, but you were the calm to his storm. This was nothing new for you.

Right?

“Did I ever tell you about the bossy man who walked into the bar?” You break the silence, matching your boyfriend’s gaze on the television. He muttered what sounded like a ‘No’ before taking a sip from a freshly opened bottle.

Now, make that four bottles on the nightstand. Two remaining in the carrier. You braced yourself for what came next.

“He ordered everyone around.”

Silence. Not even that smile where he pretends your jokes aren’t funny even though he’s crying with laughter on the inside.

A few years ago Dean would’ve laughed at your joke. Now you can’t help but feel as if you were the last person he wanted to be around. It was suddenly hard to breathe under the weight of the amulet around your neck.

“Dean… are you sure?” There’s a bewildered look on your face as he places the amulet in your hand, the one initially given to him by Sam.

“S’not like I’d let anyone else wear it.” Dean shrugs as he crouches down to your eye level, giving you a small smile. His arm wrapped around your shoulders as he held you close to his side. “I’m not afraid to let the world know that you’re my girl, either.”

“You’re such a sap.” You giggle, playfully swatting his chest before draping the necklace in place. Dean couldn’t help the smile that crossed his face.

“Only for you.” He teases in return. “It’s something until I can get a ring, but you’re it for me.”

You suddenly felt sick to your stomach at the memory. The thought of Dean, your rock, your protector, becoming a stranger had become the reality in recent months. The hunts were longer, the communication slowed, the affection disappeared, and intimacy was nonexistent. It wasn’t fair to you to always feel like the only one in this relationship.

Most of your time was spent in whatever motel room the boys scammed themselves into for the night. Dean didn’t want you on hunts unless it was absolutely necessary for you to be in their line of sight, so the most action you saw on a regular basis was walking to the closest diner for a bite to eat; sometimes ordering to-go so you could go watch whatever was on television as a way to entertain yourself. It used to be like clockwork — Sam would take his nightly walks so you and Dean could make up for lost time, but as of late it seemed like he preferred to catch up with a case of beer.

Dean takes one last swig of the bottle before wiping his mouth and standing, turning to grab his jacket and keys while mumbling some sort of goodbye under his breath, eventually exiting the motel room completely. The tears fall as soon as the door clicks and you’re left to cling onto one of the pillows for dear life, sobbing harder as his lingering scent hits your nostrils. You were hoping Sam would extend his walk and God knows wherever Dean went, not really wanting either Winchester to see you in your current state.

You found yourself at a crossroads. Was it still worth it to stay? Most of your relationship was spent on the road and living out of motels. Dean didn’t have the career path that would warrant him want to settle down long-term, and there’s no way you wouldn’t feel guilty for bringing a child into this lifestyle. It was sustainable in the early days when the two of you were younger, the combination of puppy love and high sex drives keeping you two attached at the hip. Now the two of you were getting older and you were wondering if it was ever going to be more than weapons, late night check-ins and random dive bars.

Would settling down even be the answer? There was a part of you that still yearned to be a wife and a mother, but you couldn’t live with yourself if you pulled Dean away from the only lifestyle he’d known. Realistically, he wouldn’t be able to be stationary for more than a few days at a time and he wouldn’t even know what to do with a pet, let alone a child. He’d get the itch to go back to hunting before the first box would get unpacked. You would never get that if you stayed and you loved Dean too much to just up and leave, but at some point you had to choose yourself.

Sam had beaten his older brother home, but you were gone before Dean had made it back. Packing everything into a bag you headed off to the nearest diner, grabbing a bite to eat before calling yourself a taxi. Your phone was going off with calls and texts from the Winchester boys, but your phone was on silent as the yellow cab drove you to the next town over.

[hinge]

Hinge presents an anthology of love stories almost never told. Read more on https://no-ordinary-love.co

[adustoflove]

This will always be a better option than arguing with people and attempting to control them. It's not great, but at least I can control myself by just leaving

[thelawfulchaotic]

When I am appointed to represent a child, my first action is to separate them from their parents and tell them the following things:

1. I am their attorney. I do not work for their parent or the judge or the cops. I don’t care what any of those people want.

2. My job is to listen to them and try and make what they want happen in court. (At this point I make a joke about how most people want me to get them out of trouble but if someone wanted to be in trouble I would do my best.)

3. What they tell me is confidential. It goes nowhere unless they agree to it. (If old enough, I talk to them about mandatory reporters, and how I’m a mandatory non reporter.)

4. I will give them lots of advice because I’ve been doing court for a while and I know a lot about it, and they don’t. It’s all really complicated, and if they don’t understand what’s happening it’s my job to help them figure it out.

5. They will make the decisions. (At this point I usually have to reassure them that I’ll help, I’ll speak for them in front of the judge, and I’ve got their back. It’s scary to have an adult say you’re in charge, most of the time.)

6. I tell them I know it’s absolutely wild to have some stranger come in here and say “hey, you can trust me!” and that I get if they don’t believe everything right away, because I plan to show them through my actions and my words that I’ll fight for them.

7. But nonetheless, I will treat them like a person who can make decisions, because they are living their life and I am not.

I do not:

Pretend to be cool.

Try to be their BFF.

Overwhelm them with detail.

Let their parents in the room until the kid asks for them. (I provide openings for this, and ask if the kid wants their parent to help them remember and understand.)

I want to emphasize I went into this job knowing nothing about how to interact with vulnerable populations, especially children. The training was minimal, and my role means that I can literally walk into a facility and get an unmonitored visit with a minor client one on one.

In my years of practice I have never felt threatened by a child, even one that was “violent” and “unstable.” It turns out just saying “hi, I think you’re a person with thoughts” is wildly successful? Now people treat me like I have special Child Whisperer powers. My powers are that I ask the child what’s up and I’m not scared to say things that are objectively awkward. I know nothing about anything.

[screampied]

PARTITION! g. satoru

ৎ୭ sum. your sugar daddy, satoru’s worst fear happened. he fears you’re too much of a spoiled rotten brat. screw riding in his expensive private limousine—you wanted to ride something else instead. (him, duh)

wc. 7.3k

warnings. fem! reader, sugar daddy gojo! au, age gap (early twenties + thirties), car sęx, bratty reader, unprotected, getting eaten out the window, tít job, reverse cowgirl, doggy, cunnīlingus, nanami cameo, slight alcohol consumption, size kink, cęrvix kissing, possessive themes (wearing waist beads w his initials), implied multiple rounds, he’s sooo whipped, bręeding.

➤ sd! gojo masterlist

“meet my baby here, sweets. charlotte.”

“satoru, what.”

as satoru had an arm slinked around your waist, brushing a thumb across the jewels that stuck against of of the many designer blouses he’s bought you within the past week, he hums. the two of you were staring straight at a limousine. it was icy blue like his eyes with a plethora of dark-tinted windows. to even top it off, it had ‘G.S limousine service, inc.’ carved into the side of one of the doors in bright, blue cursive.

you huffed, smearing your glossed lips together. “you named your limousine?”

“heh, well she’s yours now,” he hums, guiding you toward the slid open doors. “c’mon, there’s a club i wanna take you to. if we leave now, we can beat the press.” and satoru takes a peek at his gleaming, pricey watch. he helps lifts the back of your long skirt from touching the ground before you step in. immediately, you’re hit with flashing lights inside the luxurious car and its plush red seats.

“where to, sir.” a blond chauffeur adjusts his mirror with a sigh, taking a short glance at you.

satoru throws an arm around you, tugging lightly on his tie that’s tucked neatly in his suit. “ah, kento, meet my girl. and please—drive us to my private lounge,” satoru kisses your cheek as you sit, whispering in an impish, low tone. “buckle up, sweetheart. ‘s gonna be a bumpy ride.”

the seats were oh-so-soft, a violent hot color of maroon as the entire limo was lit up with nothing but dim flashing, flashing lights.

it was bright, the size alone was probably bigger than a simple normal bathroom. satoru saw you taking in the luxurious life like you always did, craning your head from left to right before peering at the empty wine glasses in front of you both.

“it’s so pretty,” you hummed, your head resting against his shoulder.

once you’re laid against him, you’re smacked with his signature loud cologne scent. it was always a scent you’d never forget, nor could you get used to.

it’s strong, making you take the citrusy manly aroma in silence every time.

with a raised brow, you look up at the white-haired man before timidly murmuring, “wait- what do you mean this is mine? like.. the whole thing?”

“yeah, silly girl,” satoru brushes a thumb around the center of your forehead in invisible circles.

you’ve grown to get weak with his tender touch every time. cerulean-iced eyes lock against you lovingly, and that’s when that cunning grin spreads at each side of his crooked lips. “think of it as an uh- surprise gift for the new year.”

with a pout, you open your mouth to complain. “satoru- last week, you just bought me-”

“a convertible, and i’d do it again in a heartbeat,” satoru whispers, planting another kiss near your temple.

your incoming words come to an abrupt pause, and the cute speechless look you gave him always made him hum in amusement.

one of the many things satoru liked- no loved about you, was that you were always so humble.

you were forever grateful, but you couldn’t help but be hesitant sometimes at how much he’d constantly spend for you. satoru continued to shower you with compliment though—constantly reassuring you that he wanted to splurge his money on you.

you were living the dream - literally.

embodying the life of a rich girl, a type of rich girl where you’d usually see in cheesy movies or sung in iconic songs by artists like gwen stefani.

even though it’s been a full-blown year, you’ve started to grow accustomed to the sweet luxury of being a sugar baby.

satoru gojo’s sugar baby.

but he wasn’t starting to see you as just his pretty ‘lil sugar baby though, that much was apparent.

satoru didn’t expect you to not only take his money but his heart too.

and he never minded.

he couldn’t put a price on that anyway.

“besides,” he grabs a clear, empty glass and an unopened bottle from underneath the fuzzy, red seat. with a flick, satoru removes the cork that is plugged near the top with just his thumb and middle finger. as he pours a small portion of wine inside, the velvet-colored liquid stains against all sides of the glass.

“what’s mine is yours, baby,” he takes a sip before sighing at the cassis flavor hits against his tastebuds, “ ‘s what my sweet thing deserves.”

as you’re still pouting, the limo continues to drive.

the windows were tinted, but it was clear as day when you looked through them to take a quick peel. as usual, the roads were quite busy with rush hour but it was a smooth ride nonetheless.

however though, you had to admit, you were getting a bit… bored.

satoru sat man spread, both of his wide legs taking so much unnecessary space before he contemptibly sighed again. with one of his arms still wrapped around you, you took a moment to take in his suave, handsome appearance.

he always was draped in nothing but tuxedos—

after all, without the whole sugar daddy side thing, you sometimes forget how satoru was a literal well-known businessman.

he never really went into the specifics of his work, but you knew he was the CEO of some private company.

satoru was a very powerful man, a man with a big net worth … but an even bigger heart.

the shoes that satoru wore were dress shoes of his own brand, of course. in the luminous, glittery lights of the inside of the limousine—the shoes were visibly spit-shined from top to bottom. his suit’s dark black, and the handkerchief that stuck out of his front chest had the imprints of your lipstick on it.

of course he kept that.

his hair..

it’s messily ruffled but somewhat presentable, slicked back as usual with a faint side part. over time, you started to notice how he was growing facial hair too.

it’s subtle, and you’d have to squint but you saw it. you saw how specks of white hair were trying to form down near his chin.

it was attractive nonetheless, and the thought of satoru growing a stubble had you squeezing your thighs together in shame.

after all, he was in his early-thirties so he was bound to grow some facial hair at some point. he’s always been a well-shaved man, but the image forever plagued your mind.

“yeees, sweets.” he snaps you out of your little fantasm, the near-empty wine glass still in his hand. he sits the expensive bottle of ‘screaming eagle’ near the limo’s bar that was covered with dozens of tiny, pretty rhinestones.

“h.. huh?” you stammer, blinking thrice.

shit.

the way you stared at him was like a deer in headlights. caught red-handed!

that same wry grin that stretched so slyly pried at both cracks of his lips before satoru tilted his head. “you’re starin’ y’know,” and you felt his hand placed on your thigh. “is my baby bored?”

“a little,” you admitted, hearing the loud screeching of tire wheels and screaming horns of other cars in the background.

only satoru could make you feel like you were the only girl in the world..

slowly, satoru dragged his pink tongue over his upper lip which was a bit damp from the scarlet-colored wine.

you sucked in a raucous breath - your thoughts turning more ‘n more filthy by the second.

his lips.. they were so perfect, naturally glossed, and forevermore had a plump downward curve. you could stare at them all day, and your eyes widened once a drip of wine started to trickle down the right side of his lip.

“ooh- excuse me. guess ‘m a bit messy today,” he throatily chuckles, feeling the coldness of the red droplet race down his skin. “would you be a doll ‘n lick that up for me, sweetheart?”

“okay-” you comply right away, positioning yourself on his lap.

satoru titters, cocking his head lazily toward the left as you get comfortable. cute, he thinks.

he could already tell how eager you were. also, he didn’t tell you the duration of the ride but it was probably about a good hour.

like hell could you even wait that long.

it felt like time was so cruel - standing still as you inched closer and closer toward his face. satoru laid man spread the entire time, eyeing you closely with his gaze never leaving yours.

he paws a big hand near your waist, hearing your pretty airy breaths pick up.

“stop looking at me like that-”

“aw, is it a crime to stare at my gi-”

satoru’s fatally silenced with a kiss.

it’s a rough one, and you couldn’t wait to run your tongue across the remnants of cherry-flavored wine that now started to drip down his chin.

it tasted sweet - a spicy cherry flavor, and you moaned once his knee aligned itself between your thighs.

his thigh was so bulky too, even underneath the lanky, slender slacks he wore. satoru was a particularly ripped guy in general — you knew his workout routine like the back of your hand, and sometimes he’d even let you do sets with him.

(sets that mainly consisted of you sitting on his back while he did push-ups orrrr sitting on his abs while he used barbells in his private gym)

“mhm~” you moan against his lips, hearing the competitive sounds of teeth rudely smacking against each other in vigorous sync.

each tongue’s on a dangerous mission, desperately trying to dominate the other and you couldn’t help but melt.

your twisting, hot tongue started to wander, creating a slippery snail trail near the crack of his mouth before nibbling on his bottom lip. “sa- satoruu.” you’d breathe, one hand giving his tie a needy, impatient pull.

“heyyy, you know i don’t speak whine,” he whispers, breaking away from your lips for a second.

your lips were already swollen, slickly shining with saliva that could’ve been an easily replaceable substitute for lip gloss. “use those words, sweetheart,” and it was like the more he spoke, the deeper his voice seductively pitched.

the knee that still rested between your sprawled open legs didn’t make things easier either. “tell me what you want ‘n maybe i’ll give it to ya, hm?”

with a huff, you mumble a soft, “you-”

“well yeah, me silly! elaborate for me though.”

“i want- i want you.. i want all of you satoru. right now,” you go into more detail, leaning in to paint a slope of wet kisses down his neck. satoru’s collar was a bit unkempt—some exposed skin showed above his collar which you then brought upon yourself to attack with kisses. “pretty please.”

“hah- but.. you already have me,” he inhales, groaning once he feels you starting to grind against his lap.

satoru’s touch was pure static..

his fingers couldn’t help but mindlessly roam, tickling against your bare skin that protruded through the minuscule squares of your ripped fishnets.

the stare you two shared was just so intimate, and he could almost already smell your lusty, loud arousal..

“mhm- y’know, what i want too?” satoru huskily whispers against your ear, grunting as your hips slooooowly rubbed against his visible boner.

hugely, it stuck out through his jet-black slacks. leave it to you to always make him hard.

“tell me.” you reply with a chastened frown, sliding a hand up his loose button-up. your hand enters underneath his shirt and his skin is so warm that it feels like his entire body is on fire.

right away, your curious palm gets a taste of his hardened abs that were nearly akin to the texture of a damn brick.

rigid, flexing muscles of satoru’s relax at your touch before he grabs a nice chunk of your ass.

“oh, nothing! ‘m just a.. ‘lil thirsty, sweets..”

♡ ♡ ♡

“ohmygod-” you’d squeal, cupping a clammy palm over your mouth.

when satoru said he was thirsty, you surely didn’t expect him to have you hanging out the window with your ass perfectly perked out.

with a single hand, he pulled up your skirt, raising it to the brink of your waistline while dragging your pretty lace panties to the side with a single thumb.

you were partially hanging out the window - safely though, he’d never let you fall.

satoru had an arm wrapped around your waist, one hand sliding down your thigh. vehemently, his tongue swirled circles around your clit before giving it one looooong suck.

his lips puckered, and he could already feel your hips starting to stutter against his mouth.

“mng- ‘toru,” you’d heave, wriggling your ass around his face. the tip of his nose started to rub up and down your slit too, and he’s shamelessly getting a whiff of your candied mess.

he was always so nasty, proudly spitting on your pussy, lapping it up before it dripped onto the thousand-dollar seats.

“mhh- wiggle that ass a little more for me baby, dance with my.. haaah- tongue,” he whispers airily, thumbing a fat finger near your pulsing clit. satoru found it so cute how you’d pulse every time he’d smear slippery circles around your pussy.

you just couldn’t help it!

you’re sucking in each ‘n every breath, sinking the edges of your teeth into your bawled knuckle to suppress your moans.

a strong gust of wind strikes you as the car continues to move, and you’re just meekly smiling at the cars that pass by.

from their points of view… the drivers are just seeing some random girl slightly hanging out a halfway-lowered limousine window.

in reality though,

you were getting eaten out while dozens of cars speedily drove past you.

through your slightly blurred peripherals, you saw satoru’s chauffeur who you remember hearing him address as ‘kento’ earlier, giving you a peer through his side-view mirror. he had his hands firmly on his steering wheel, scoffing to himself with a head shake.

he mumbled something under his breath as he looked away, focusing his browned eyes on the talking GPS that read him the directions to the destination.

from your sweet, repetitive moans, you couldn’t exactly make out what he said but from a quick read of his lips, you’d probably guess it was something like:

“i don’t get paid enough for this shit.”

as you’re still hung out the window, your legs part a bit - causing your eyes to widen.

satoru’s slurping you clean, skipping frisky plump fingers down your thigh before cupping his plump lips around your pussy. his head, it moves back and forth, ferociously shifting side to side like a damn madman.

you probably looked soo stupid. your mouth stayed open the entire time with your jaw forever dropped—dangling like an earring.

“fuh- fuuuck,” your trembling voice pitches higher, and you claw a hand near the back of your ass.

tightly gripping at a piece of your ass, it fits around your hand entirely before you turn to look back at satoru.

already, his chin’s got a pretty coat of your juices pouring down his jaw. his tongue was just hungry, wanting far more than just a few sips of his expensive screaming eagle..

you were far sweeter than any beverage, and satoru continuously took big, big gulps.

he treated his lips like a straw, pursing them to suck before slurping every single drop of you clean until you could barely hold your legs open.

“mhm- look at alllll this pretty fuckin’ ass,” he groans, removing your hand that was gripped on your rear.

with a whack! he hits it, humming at the cute ‘lil jolt of your shimmying body.

your skin jiggles in his face instantly, and you feel his curving tongue precisely slow its frantic pace down by the second.

there….

the tip of his pointed tongue stretched itself so far out that it clicked itself against your precious g-spot. “mng- spread y’rself wider, baby. ‘m not done with my.. hah- drink.”

“suh- sssatoru,” you’d drag out your whiny, pathetic words.

your brows formed into a furrow as your hands grabbed onto the edges of the rolled-down window. sweaty, perspiring fingertips imprinted the fogged glass as he licked every wet orifice thoroughly.

thankfully, some music was blasting in the background—seemingly drowning out your constant, pleading whines and whimpers..

satoru’s designer tie even gets a bit wet - you’re drip drip dripping, tears of glossy slick pouring flawlessly from both sides of your legs. he brings a thumb toward your hole, feeling your cute wriggles before spitting down your pussy.

slowly, the webby string trails a straight, sloppy line down and he licks it up — removing his thumb and starting at your hole before lapping his tongue down the bottom part of your pussy.

he’s wholeheartedly feral - animalistic, working his tongue until your brain turns into mush.

eventually, you ended up crawling back into the spacious limousine and landed on your back.

with your legs still spread, satoru lifts your thighs, continuing his feast. “mmph- get back here, sweets. ‘m not haaah- done,” he’d jibe each time he’d squint to see your cute weak pulse up close.

you’re impatient - desperate for your release so much that you could almost taste it..

it tasted sweet with a bit of tang, and the more you fantasized about your inevitable orgasm— the more more more you were starting to blank out all on his tongue.

“mnh- attaaaaa girl, let ‘toru get a nice good sip.” he’s still slurping you, a few excess juices smearing against his cheek.

satoru’s long, white lashes flutter open and close as he relishes in your treacly taste.

you just couldn’t stay still though.

with the way your hips cutely tossed ‘n turned each time his tongue delved inside of your sopping cunt, he’d think your middle name was ‘squirmer.’

time drags by for a looong time, not as long as satoru’s tongue though.. not by a long shot..

it flicked its way through each spot, munching proudly against your clit before your tummy tucked inward. your brain haywires, and with your mouth wide open — the only sounds that escaped were small, labored breaths.

you’re cumming, and your lashes frantically blinked at so many blinks per second. your muscles that were once tense relaxed as you’re finally succumbing to pleasure.

you squealed out that final, harmonic battle cry before your head plopped into the edge of the limo’s seat.

“fuck- fuck, fuuuck,” you’re whimpering, repeating the same swear like a broken record as you feel him grab ahold of your writhing hips.

his tongue’s length curved its way everywhere, creating a path to remember as it made itself known at all tender areas of your pussy.

“uh huh- that’s it, good girl. ride it out, riiiide it out, i gotcha,” he groans, laying his tongue fully flat. it’s a rose-like pink, soddened tastebuds sizzling in contempt once you’re ‘quenching’ his thirst with your sweetened arousal.

buzzing sounds went in and out of your ears as you just released huff after puff through your lungs. satoru’s lips were glossed with nothing but your slick, even more than they already were.

he gives your poor, convulsing clit its last finally smooches before reluctantly breaking away.

“hah- never a dull moment with her,” he licks his lips from top to bottom, grabbing out his lipstick-stained handkerchief before patting underneath his chin. “you okay, sweetheart?”

“ ‘m okay,” you breathe, still feeling tingles surge through every one of your veins that ran down your wobbly, numb limbs. your legs had it the worse.

you barely felt anything, and satoru helped you back to your feet.

it was a limo, so it wasn’t like you could exactly stand but you sufficed by crouching just below the fuzzy-made hood.

satoru lies slouched back - giving his lap a few playful pats before tilting his head at you. “c’mere, sweet thing,” and his voice was dripping with erotic silk.

his ocean-strong eyes zero down at your body, trailing up up up before eventually stopping just about your waistline.

your skirt was now off — pulled to the floor and so were your panties. you only had your matching blouse on. you got an idea though, and satoru watched you get on your knees. “oh..?”

“ ‘toru,” you speak in shortened puffs, still trying to get over your recent teeth-shattering orgasm. every sensitive axon and nerve located in your body was screaming at you, aching for more stimulation as time passed.

as your hands casually spread his long legs wider across the cushioned seats, you hummed. “remember those waist beads you ordered me a few weeks back?”

“mhm,” he nods, eyes never darting away from your wriggling body for a second.

satoru wondered what your game was.

as he was trying to prevent himself from smiling, he was starting to realize that maybe, just maybe you were starting to get just a liiiiitle bit spoiled.

as his legs were fully sprawled apart, you brought your hands toward the hem of the designer blouse that stuck against your skin. you honestly lost count of just how many clothes satoru’s bought you within the past year.

he watches closely - zeroing down at your figure, nipping on his lip as he stares at you leisurely pulling the piece of clothing off of you.

satoru’s seen your skin countless times, but there was just something about your body that he just couldn’t get enough of.

couldn’t get enough of you..

if he was being honest, he could stare at you all day.

“look. it fits perfectly,” you speak in a sweet tone, your thighs stuck together as you were still dripping from the inner crevices. you could feel yourself throbbing, and it took everything in you to not let out a moan.

satoru tsks, kissing his teeth once he’s now exposed to your skin.

the damn beads,

they wrapped around your waist and indeed fit your entire torso. his eyes studied the gold that went around your raised hips, whistling once he saw those two crystallized initials - his initials.

‘G.S’

the small two letters hung on one waist bead that was drooped low near your naval and an extra twin pair near the charms behind your back. “fuuuck- know that’s right,” satoru huffs, his breathing starting to get a bit heavy.

“all mine, heh- looks so damn pretty on you,” and as his eyes continued to meander down your skin, satoru’s head rests back against the softly cushioned seat. “hm- how ‘bout you model for me? show off that gorgeous body a little more f’ me.”

“say ‘please’,” you’d get on his lap, wrapping your arms around him. satoru looks up at you with a mere pouting scowl, a hand instinctively attaching itself to your hip.

“pleaaase, oh-pleaseeee sweets. don’t tease me too bad, you’re bein’ a bit of a spoiled girl right now,” he whispers, bringing wet, cold lips toward the corner of your neck. you moaned, feeling satoru’s free hand strum a few fingers down your waist beads.

they clank clank clanked, creating pretty jingle sounds at each faint movement before you started to move your hips.

“goddamn-” he holds in a breath, practically wordless as his eyes continued to rove.

briskly, you slowly turned yourself around, teasingly popping your hips to the dropping beats of the song that played through the limo’s speakers.

satoru’s suddenly short of breath, circling a thumb around the left cheek of your ass. he’s so hard, and you could feel it the more you rubbed your ass right up against thaaat particular spot.

he sucks his teeth once more, grunting as he feels the cloth knead against your skin so good..

“woman, you’re bein’ such a bratty tease right now..” and he could taste that round, large lump forming near the very back of his throat.

satoru shivers as your hands place on the crown of his knees, and you’re starting to rock rock rock back ‘n forth his throbbing boner. “hmph. the things i let ‘cha get away with, lucky ‘m not.. haah- fuck, bending ya over my lap, baby.”

“you talk a lot for a guy with a boner this hard, ‘toru.” you shrug, continuing the sensual jerking of your hips.

he’s grunting at every swift turn of your body, hearing his heart loudly thump through his ears.

the limo’s speed picks up a few miles and you could hear the grumbling from underneath the vehicle as you stayed quiet for a few seconds.

“mmh- fine, since you said please.”

as you’re still facing the other way, you reach for his buckle with your fingers brushing near the cold straps. you couldn’t see, so he grabbed your hand—guiding you where to unbuckle his slacks.

“f.. fuck, hurry up. you rubbin’ against me isn’t helping matters at all, y’know,” he tries to laugh but it comes out very dry.

satoru just wanted to be inside you, making you remember your place with a few sloppy strokes.

you giggled, hearing his pants and boxers sliiiide down to his ankles with a thud before jostling your rear way back against his leaning cock. it hung so cutely, and its tip was swollen with veins protruding at a few girthy sides.

with satoru still having a hold of your hand, he makes you touch the leaking head. “ooh,” you hum, twirling a thumb around his tender frenulum.

as you do so, he moans out the sluttiest moan, pretty white lashes squeezing shut for about three seconds to savor this moment.

“heh.. little girl,” he gutturally prowls, aligning his dick in between the crack of your fleshy mounds. it’s very hard, and you hummed at the warmth he provided. “go on then.. ride me in reverse, sweets. this the ride you wanted all along, hm?”

“yeaah,” you played along, almost seeing the weary smirk unfurl across his lips as he spoke.

you couldn’t wait any longer either.

you were throbbing persistently, every fiber of your being longing for satoru to ease his way inside of your pretty, sobbing cunt.

he was so big that your hand could barely wrap around the entity of his length. instantly, your palms met with various veins as you raised your hips moderately.

his vermillion-shaded tip carefully hovered over your dripping hole, and satoru’s just heavily breathing at your stilled body.

“mngh-” you released a rough, jagged breath once you were slowly making your way down on his cock.

like usual, you’re presented with that loving tiiiiight stretch that lasts for about a good four seconds.

satoru’s tip alone was big, and it pummeled through your insides as his inches started to leisurely disappear.

it’s such a lewd scene - a scene he wouldn’t mind replaying over ‘n over again in his head..

your pussy sings out sloshes of wet high notes in harmony, trying to take in his weighty shaft.

your mouth opens up on its own, and you’re breathing out colorful swears of ‘ohhh fuuuck’ ‘s as you continue to sink your way down.

from the both of you, countless breathy breaths were drawn from both raspy lungs as the mouthwatering penetration continued.

it felt like a squeeze pinching near your insides, tickling around you from the inside before adding pounds of pressure pressure pressure..

your hands go back to being placed on his knees, whimpering as his slick cock eases its way inside of your pussy. spongy, clamping walls hugged around him like a vice and your teeth were starting to feel that familiar chatter.

“god- always s- so fuckin’ big, ‘toru,” you moan, your bratty ‘lil façade shortly faltering once he’s finally buried balls fuckin’ deep.

the pit of your tummy was constantly heaving, cowardly sucking itself in and out at the sheer weight of his size before you eventually relaxed.

“perfect fit for my perfect… hah- girl.” he grunts, taking a quick peer down at your unbalanced thighs that struggled to move at first.

gradually, your hips started to move and greeted satoru’s lap with a sharp, rude slam. once you started to adapt to a rhythm, your hips rolled and rolled.

“agh- that’s i.. iiiiit,” he choked on his saliva, playing with the waist beads that danced against your torso as you moved.

satoru moans, feeling his fat base smush its way against your ass once you sat down. your hips were reeling, winding back into his pelvis like a wind-up toy.

with parched, hot skin amongst skin - the sounds echoed against the limo, nearly sounding over the music that played in the background.

satoru’s watching as you plop straight back into him before you sprightly wriggle your hips in a seductive circle.

“my, ain’t you a naughty girl..” he tosses his head back in overwhelming rapture, feeling his dick twitch inside you as the sloppy sounds continue.

it was hard not to hear - if it was anything satoru knew about your pussy, he knew that it was always, always vocal with him..

you’re slamming back against his lap every time, squeezing your palms against the crowns of his knees with your body twirling and falling back into his inviting lap.

if you kept riding him like that, he’d really be head over heels.

“ugh- yeah, girl. ride it, ride this dick like it’s yours because it fuckin’ is,” satoru grunts, feeling your cunt tighten for a second at his exact words. “heh- did my messy girl like that? like hearin’ that ‘m yours, sweetheart?”

“mhm,” you’d nod with your lips clamped shut.

he’s just so big, stretching through your insides with such ease. the once slow and steady beats of your heart were now thump thump thumping!

satoru’s bulbous-shaped tip had a hooked upturning curve, and fuck did you feel every sloping curve as you bounced up ‘n down on his cock.

it’s so good that your mouth’s pathetically watering from the inside, and you’re already starting to feel that burning sensation electrify through your aching, stretched muscles.

“mngh- look at this body, s… so damn-” and he pauses, clenching his jaw at the sloppy wet feeling of your barriers bear-hugging around his cock.

you’re just working your hips like it’s a full-time job, throwing them around in a circle so fast that even satoru could barely keep up.

with thighs upon thighs upon thighs, your skin sticks against his like glue. a trail of colorless slick smears down satoru’s leg and he moans at the loud slaps of zealous, clapping skin.

you’re sticky still, and he’s moaning louder once the speed of your hips quickens.

“yeah? yeah, better- fuckin’-ride-me,” and even though his voice faintly cracks, satoru still manages a sort of poised, cocky persona.

multiple ‘encouraging’ swats hit against the cheeks of your ass and you’re whining, putting your all into the movements of your jerking body. satoru’s snowy brows contort before he gives your waist beads a soft tug.

“do it, fuck me, baby. ‘n while you’re at it..” and as you’re still moving your hips, you feel a bit of paper rain down your back that’s starting to perspire with sweat.

“fuck-” satoru grunts smokily, staring as hundred dollar bills fall down your bare spine. “forgot ‘ta give you your allowance, might as well give it to you now.”

“hngh- satoruuu,” you whined, his cock hitting its way through every spot. it french-kisses near your clit before passionately making out with your cervix.

it located both spots easily, and the feeling had your toes curling inside of your four-inch heels.

satoru ended up tossing those same bills down your back, staring as it prettily fell down your body before landing on his lap and the limo’s cottony carpet.

“ ‘m gonna cum i think,” you moaned, slowing your turning hips in hypnotic, carnal arcs. satoru’s hands were brought to your waist with two thumbs pressed at each side of your hips. “ ‘m cummin’ satoru.”

“me too, s.. sweets,” he swallows, hissing silently at the unsteady bucking of your bouncing ass.

your rear jiggled at each slamming thrust, ricocheting against his thighs and it was just so mesmerizing to watch.

satoru’s feeling the scorching tip of his cock grow hot, and he’s starting to feel all types of contractions arise within his muscles. “god- tell me where to tell me where.”

“inside,” you moaned, bringing your hands toward your chest to cup to bouncing tits. you squeezed them, smearing a thumb around your hardened nipples before making yourself even more aroused.

it’s just so much to process.

your rutting hips, the loud squelches of your pussy, satoru’s dick driving through you repeatedly.. oh, you were in a daze.

“f- fuuuuck. be a… hah- good girl ‘n take it all then.” he groans, elated euphoria swelling within him.

you stuck against his lap so good, slickly sliding your ass back before going forward, then back into his pelvis again.

your movements alone left such a good taste in his mouth, and once he feels himself about to burst - he fuckin’ bursts.

a massive load spurts out of satoru, shooting deeply into your fluttering womb as your hips come to a freezing still.

you’re cumming too - whimpering as you’re gushing down on his cock while being absolutely filled.

wads ‘n wads of milky, gooey cum floods inside of you, plugging you to the fullest. you’re both moaning lowly, rocking against each other in rushed unison before you arch forward.

your ass was fully bent over, and satoru stared openly as he was still shooting such deep, frothy amounts inside of you.

you looked so pretty like this that he couldn’t help but mentally take a picture, widely peering at the foamy droplets of cum that started to trickle their way down his overwhelmed base—creating a sparkling white ring.

it’s still as thick - still as veiny, and satoru makes you raise your hips ever-so-slightly.

doing so, he stares at your soddened pussy that’s lewdly spitting out a few heaps of cum before hearing that cute wet ‘plop!’

“fuckin’ dirty girl..” he huffs, one hand softly caressing your waist beads. he takes a glance at the ‘G.S.’ initials that were engraved near the back side of the many other charms, and he sighs.

right as you’re pulled up to where his creamy tip was juuuust about to slide away from your soused opening, satoru gives your stuffed pussy a soft pat.

“don’t know who’s dirtier…. herrrr,” he mumbles, swabbing a thumb around your cum-covered hole before bringing it up to his mouth.

with a wet smacking ‘ccht’ of satoru’s lips coming together—he licks his thumb clean, cooing silently at the taste of himself like the filthy, filthy man he was. “or you.”

♡ ♡ ♡

after many, many positions, you found yourself losing multiple rounds with your shallow breath as if even breathing was a mere contest. he’s had you in position after position, folding you like a freshly baked pretzel. it’s almost like the two of you weren’t literally in a limousine.

you hoped his chauffeur nanami didn’t hear. that would’ve been well, embarrassing.

the drive felt like forever.. but, you honestly didn’t want it.. this to end.

you’re a mess, stuffed to the uttermost fullest with ribbons of satoru’s freshly hot cum messily tearing down every slick crevice of your thighs.

currently, satoru had you in one of his favorite positions.

doggy.

part of the reason why he loved it so much was mainly because of the perfect, jiggling view.

your ass - he loved seeing how it would react from each rude smack, swatting his palm over and over again at your cute, tender skin. the pads of your hands pressed firmly into the limo’s seats as he’s just giving you the pound of a damn lifetime.

“mngh!” you’d whine out, drooling from the sides of your jittery, spit-slick lips that refused to stay shut.

he’s effortlessly reaching all the right areas, swiftly pumping his way past that cute taut ring of your entrance that he’s grown to love.

that brief tight stretch nearly makes him lose his mind, and satoru then brings his hands toward your waist. “right there, right fuckin’ th— mmph!”

“shhh, you’re gonna.. hah- miss the best part, sweets,” the white-haired man cups a hand over your mouth.

slow strokes - deeper thrusts..

your eyes rolled ‘n rolled back, gasping against his palm once he sneaks a hand in between your wet thighs. with your waist beads tickling against his wrist, satoru gives your pussy a soft smack.

your wetness ‘splashes’ against the center of his hand, and it even pops out a cute sound too.

“uuugh- ‘m gonna… cum agaiiin,” you’d raise your ass in the air just a bit more, your voice turning more whiny within seconds.

your words were still a bit muffled with his hand covering your mouth, but he still made out your whiny, inaudible words—just barely. .

the sounds of fierce, sharp hips brutally clashing against skin every time made him groan. it’s a booming resounding ‘pop!’ or ‘pap!’ noise every time that makes your entire body ring instead of just your ears.

his cock’s searching through your wet, gripping walls as if it had some sort of life purpose.

“hah- me t.. too, sweetheart,” and fuck, satoru’s drowning in his sweat. “phew-” satoru brings the back of his wrist to wipe some from his forehead. glancing down, he stares at your jouncing ass before giving you one, snappingly deep thrust.

“pussy’s a fuckin’ workout- oh shiiiiit.” and satoru’s feeling you clamp clamp clamp down on him, giving his dick the work of its life.

you could feel the individual staticky pulses of your clit signaling messages to you that you’re just so close and you’re nearly salivating inside of your mouth.

soooo good.. for a moment you forgot the two of you were still in the back of a limousine.

he’s fucking you so good that you could barely think straight.

satoru’s still playing with your pussy, giving it spanks in between his robust thrusts.

his rotund tip beat red, an oxblood blush of red as he continued to ram a heart-shaped sloppy kiss toward your clit.

at that moment, your legs cutely retreated and your chest collapsed forward. “feels s.. sooo good satoru, ngh- ‘toruuu!”

as your body spasmed at the onslaught of his reckless, sloppy thrusts - your hips were all the way raised against his lap.

you’re losing track of thoughts as you’re harshly creaming down his shaft, murmuring out cute little babbles of ‘ooohs’ once you feel his angle deepen.

satoru brings a hand down your fleshy back, staring at your skin that was wetly decorated with sweat while studying the goosebumps that ran down your spine.

“ ‘m gonna.. hah- cum,” he groans, a few stubby fingers thrumming down the gold waist beads that wrapped around your waist.

he brings his thumb toward the tiny ‘G.S.’ initials before pressing his honed-shaped pelvis wholly into you with just a single, barbaric thrust.

“all mine, my pretty… hah- wife.”

wife?

you heard that — you definitely heard it, but part of you wondered if maybe satoru was just overly pussy drunk as usual.

but the thought alone - the thought of actually being his wife of satoru gojo, your sugar daddy, didn’t seem too bad.

as the image of you walking down the aisle crossed your mind, your throbbing brought you straight back into orgasmic reality.

“wait.. hnng- pull out,” you’d moan, another idea popping into your head. instead of satoru usually finishing inside, you had a better idea.

“haah- ‘kay,” he pants, his snapping hips working overtime as they continually mercilessly plunge deep into your heated core.

his rhythm was far slower, but his thrusts were always in such a hurried frenzy.

he’s close - so so close.

you’re still covered with his cum from before from the legs down, and it paints such a pretty canvas on you.

a lewd, erotic canvas maybe..

quickly, satoru ends up pulling out with a hand wrapped around his cock that painfully throbbed. it scrunched up a bit at the sudden coldness, already missing your clingy warmth before you flip over.

“h.. hm?”

“ ‘toru, put ‘em between here.” you spoke in a hushed tone, sinking your knees into the limo’s velveteen-made seats.

he hungrily stares at you with nothing but lust surrounding the entirety of his rounded, dilated pupils. at your sweet, breathy word of ‘here,’ you brought two hands up to your breasts.

“naughty… temptress,” satoru clicks his tongue. aligning his swollen dick in between the crack of your sweat-dripping chest, it easily sliiiiiides its way through.

he watches intently as you squeeze your tits together, glancing up at him with those pretty, siren eyes of yours that were starting to droop.

“mmh,” and as his tip disappears between the slot of your chest, you hang your head down, flicking your tongue across the tender slit of his shaft.

“f- fuck, ‘m gonna cum. can’t- hold it anymore, sweets,” satoru groans, his words so guttural ‘n low that they sounded almost like a growl.

he knew he wasn’t gonna last much longer, not when you were on your knees—stuffing his dick right between your perked tits.

he’s sloppily starting to thrust his cock in and out between the valley of your breasts and felt himself throb at each cute jounce they created amongst each other.

so …. soft.

satoru’s achy tip was forming into an angry shade of bloodshot red, and the entirety of his shaft was smoldering from the stimulation. after a few long milliseconds though—he finds himself shooting white blanks again.

he’s fucking between your tits as you held them together, spraying a nice sum of his load onto your chest. you gasp, a bit landing on your lip and you lick it.

satoru’s moaning - no, grunting as he’s finishing against your breasts. he drags a shaky hand through his tousled, white hair before letting off a deep, heavy sigh.

“ohhh… fuck,” he grumbles, the tips of his ears burning a fiery pink.

his limp cock now remains idle, still buried between your tits before you slide your tongue across the leaking creamed tip.

it’s so glossy, dribbling from all sides with his pasty mess plastered on the upper part of your chest. “didn’t know i had.. such a dirty sweethe- fuck.”

satoru pauses for theatrics — holding his breath, thinking he was still cumming, but he wasn’t.

his mind was simply playing tricks, and his jaw clenched once you lapped up the remnants of bittersweet tasting cum that splattered on you. you used your thumb to reach the spots your tongue couldn’t, and once you were finished, satoru bent down to pull you into a fervent, deep kiss.

you moaned against his lips as the limousine still created miles upon miles. you lost track of time, but you’d guess it’s probably been well over an hour's drive.

“mng-” satoru grunts into your lips, feeling your arms wrap around him. he still had his button-up shirt on the entire time along with his suit just above his torso. he’s tasting himself on your lips, grunting once he felt your hand tug on his ruffled black tie.

your tongue was sticky, swirling a circular pattern around the inside of his mouth before you sucked on his.

satoru allowed you to make him get underneath you, and he felt your legs crawling on top of him.

as you’re both still deeply making out — fighting each other with sharp slaps of teeth smacking against each other, you gingerly pull away.

“i’m your wife now?”

“h.. hm?”

“earlier,” you lick near the corner of his lip. “you said ‘m your pretty wife.”

satoru gives you a sleazy lopsided grin. he looked so pussy drunk that he almost forgot about that tiny piece of dialogue that spouted from his lips.

“ah, i did call you my wife, didn’t i, sweets?” and as a thumb caresses around your cheek, he hoarsely whispers. “well, do you want to be?”

bringing a wet, torrid kiss toward his bottom crooked lip, you hummed. “i do.”

“wish you would’ve told me sooner though,” he sheepishly says, giving his tie a few meek pulls. “i could’ve proposed the right way but.. this is fine too, i gues-.”

“shhh-” you silence him with yet another barrage of kisses, cupping his face.

satoru grunts, hearing the little jangles of your waist brands yet again as your hips laboriously swayed against him.

your forehead is pressed against his and its hit with a bunch of sweat from satoru.

satoru moans from your ardent, vehement kisses, his lips being left all plump, reddened, and not to mention swollen all because of you.

his dick twitches—a prominent vein striking near the left side as you steadily moved your dripping pussy against it in slow, ravishing rocks. “lie back,” you whispered, playfully pushing him back against the seat.

satoru reclines back with a ‘hmph’ and he raises a silvery brow at your audacity. “lie back ‘n let your fiancé ride you again.”

“heh.. yes, mrs. gojo.”

[danysdaughter]

After Hours

pairing | au!bucky x teacher!reader

word count | 7.8k words

summary | when bucky barnes keeps showing up early to pick up his nephew from school, it’s definitely not just about being a good uncle—it’s about the sharp, no-nonsense kindergarten teacher who won’t give him the time of day. one desperate club night and a locked bathroom later, you finally do.

tags | (18+) MDNI, unprotected sex, p in v, semi-public sex, rough sex, oral sex (f!receiving), dominant!bucky, flirty!bucky, modern au, cocky!bucky, no-nonsense!reader, slow burn to smut, mutual pining, enemies to lovers-ish, no description of reader, BUT reader does have surname (racially ambiguous as always), ABBOTT ELEMENTARY CROSSOVER (this is fanfiction so I can do whatever I want)

a/n | this is filthy you guys, based on this request, and after reading this if you haven't I beg you to watch abbott elementary, literally rewatching for the fourth time, it's everything and changed my entire personality

likes comments and reblogs are much appreciated ✨✨

ᴍᴀsᴛᴇʀʟɪsᴛ

divider by @cafekitsune

“You do realize we’re ten minutes late, right?”

The voice came from the backseat—small, unimpressed, and filled with the kind of quiet disappointment usually reserved for tax season and slow Wi-Fi.

Bucky glanced at his rearview mirror and caught sight of his nephew, Danny, hair flattened oddly on one side from sleep, Superman backpack twice the size of his torso, and the most judgmental frown a five-year-old could possibly muster.

Bucky cleared his throat, shooting the kid his best reassuring grin. “Ten minutes is nothing, buddy. Trust me. Back in the day, I once showed up to basic training a whole hour late.”

Danny blinked. “Did you get yelled at?”

“Oh, absolutely.”

“Did you cry?”

“…No.”

Danny leaned back in his booster seat like a seasoned war general staring down a doomed campaign. “Ms. Lane’s gonna be mad.”

Bucky huffed a laugh as he pulled into the parking lot, spotting a scattering of parents still dropping kids off at the entrance. “Your teacher’s not gonna be upset you when I explain. You’re five. You’ve got diplomatic immunity.”

Danny shook his head slowly, solemnly.

“Not with me. You.”

Bucky paused mid-parallel-park, one hand still on the wheel, his brow furrowing. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Danny didn’t answer. Just stared straight ahead at the entrance to Abbott Elementary like it was the last checkpoint before war. Like he was waiting for the music from The Godfather to start playing.

“You’ll see,” he said simply, grabbing his backpack straps like they were armor.

Bucky frowned as he helped him out of the car. “What’s with the dramatics, huh? She gonna throw a book at me?”

Danny shrugged. “She’s just… Ms. Lane.”

And with that, the kid marched ahead like a tiny soldier into the building, leaving Bucky trailing behind, wondering what the hell kind of teacher scared a kindergartner more than a DC-level supervillain.

He was about to find out.

Bucky followed Danny down the hallway, trying not to feel like he was walking into a parent-teacher trap. It smelled like crayons, wet sneakers, and disillusionment.

A cluster of teachers loitered near the front office—one of them with an armful of broken rulers, one loudly arguing with a printer, and one sipping coffee with the grace of a woman who’d already survived decades of nonsense.

He made a beeline for her. Elegant, composed, a pearl necklace that said “respect me,” and an aura of calm he hadn’t felt since his last decent nap.

“Ms. Lane?” Bucky asked, offering a smile that had gotten him out of more than one parking ticket. “Sorry for the delay, I was doing my sister a favor—her son, Danny? He’s in your class.”

The woman blinked up at him, unimpressed. He could practically hear the mental pen clicking as she filed him under Oh no, not another one.

“I am Mrs. Howard,” she said, calmly correcting Bucky like he'd just misquoted Scripture. “Ms. Lane is the other kindergarten teacher.”

Bucky opened his mouth to apologize, but she wasn’t done.

“She’s just down the hall. Room 3B.” Then came the pause. The head tilt. The look.

“Young man…” She gave him a once-over. Not flirtatious. Not judgmental. Just quietly disappointed—like he'd shown up to church in jeans.

Bucky blinked. “Yes, ma’am?”

Mrs. Howard offered a solemn shake of her head. “Good luck.”

And with that, she turned and glided off, coffee in hand, already done with his entire existence.

Bucky stood in the hallway for a second, frowning. How bad could this Ms. Lane be? What, was she going to quiz him on phonics or glare him into a coma?

The door was already open a crack, but Bucky still knocked first, because that’s what you did when walking into enemy territory.

There was no chaos. No screeching. No glue sticks flying through the air. Which was immediately suspicious for a kindergarten class.

Instead, he stepped inside to find… silence.

Twenty tiny heads bent over worksheets like they were prepping for the SATs. Crayons moved in eerie unison. No one screamed. No one licked a desk. A kid in the back raised his hand quietly—quietly—to ask if he could use the bathroom.

That was his first warning.

Because when were kindergarteners ever quiet?

Bucky hesitated in the doorway, feeling like he’d just stumbled into enemy territory. What kind of boot camp were they running in here?

Danny nudged him forward, but Bucky’s attention was already drifting to the figure at the whiteboard across the room—spine straight, skirt fitted, heels clicking as you scrawled a date across the board with clean, efficient precision. You didn’t look up. You didn’t need to.

You radiated authority from thirty feet away.

He half-expected to see gray hair, maybe glasses on a chain. Strict. Sharp. The kind of teacher whose name gets spoken in terrified whispers on playgrounds.

Then you turned around.

And Bucky’s mouth dried up instantly.

You weren’t old. You weren’t scary. You were stunning. Not just pretty—gorgeous. The kind of beautiful that hits you like a left hook. And you didn’t smile when you saw him. Of course you didn’t.

You just turned, one brow raised, assessing him like a problem you were deciding whether to fix or eliminate.

Bucky cleared his throat, defaulting to his most practiced, most lethal move: the smile. The one that had gotten him out of bar fights, jury duty, and once, weirdly, an IKEA return policy.

“Hi. Sorry—I’m Bucky Barnes,” he said, stepping inside. “Danny’s uncle. Rebecca asked me to drop him off today. It’s my first time—”

“Kids are supposed to be in class by eight,” you interrupted, voice calm, level, and sharp enough to slice drywall. “It’s eight fifteen.”

Right. Okay.

The smile faltered just a fraction.

You crossed your arms, waiting, watching him like you were unimpressed by his entire bloodline.

Danny, standing a little behind Bucky now, mumbled, “Told you so.”

Bucky sighed and shot him a look before stepping forward a bit, trying again with a little more Sergeant, a little less smug.

“Yeah,” Bucky said, holding onto the edge of that smile. “That’s on me. My sister got called in early, and I didn’t realize traffic near the school was… a situation.” He gave a little shrug, trying to soften the blow. “It’s only fifteen minutes.”

One kid—front row, bowl cut, way too invested—visibly winced for him as you took a step closer to him. Bucky barely caught the movement before he felt the weight of your stare.

“Danny,” you said, never breaking eye contact with Bucky, “you can go take your seat.”

Danny didn’t hesitate. He made a beeline for his desk like he was escaping a hostage situation, never once glancing back at his uncle.

You turned your full attention on Bucky then, your eyes sweeping him head to toe in a single motion so dry, so thoroughly unimpressed, it made his spine straighten instinctively.

“Fifteen minutes,” you said, voice still perfectly pleasant, “is long enough for a child to lose their morning routine. It’s long enough to miss foundational learning, to feel behind before they’ve even started the day. It’s long enough to build a habit of dismissing responsibility.”

Bucky opened his mouth.

You didn’t stop.

“Fifteen minutes late to school turns into fifteen minutes late to interviews. Fifteen minutes late to jobs. Fifteen minutes late to life. That might not seem like much to you, Mr. Barnes, but to a five-year-old trying to learn structure in an unpredictable world? It matters.”

A low “oooh” rippled through the class like someone had just witnessed a verbal assassination.

You turned your head—just slightly—and every single one of them went silent like a switch had been flipped.

Then you turned back to Bucky with a smile so polished it might’ve passed for genuine, if not for the gleam in your eye that said this isn’t over, and you will remember me.

“Have a good day, Mr. Barnes.”

He blinked. “I—”

“Have a good day, Mr. Barnes.”

His mouth shut. His posture shifted. He nodded, respectful this time. “Of course.”

You turned back to the whiteboard without another word, already moving on like he was just a bump in your perfectly structured morning.

As Bucky stepped out of the classroom, he glanced back over his shoulder one last time.

The kids were still silent.

You were still terrifying.

And now?

You were stuck in his head.

From then on, Bucky made a small but strategic adjustment to his week.

He got Rebecca to agree—grudgingly, at first—to let him handle school drop-off twice a week and pick-up three times. It was about being involved. Showing up. Being a solid, male figure in Danny’s life. A steady one. That’s what he told himself. And his sister.

And sure, maybe it was also because Danny’s kindergarten teacher was the most infuriatingly magnetic person Bucky had ever met.

Ms. Lane.

You.

Every time he stepped into that classroom—on time, now, thank you very much—you were there. Clipboard in hand, spine like steel, eyes that didn’t blink when he smiled at you like he’d invented it.

You never giggled. Never blushed. Never let him get so much as a twitch of a lip curl when he dropped a line like, “Careful, you keep looking at me like that and people are gonna think we’re in a PTA scandal.”

Nothing.

You’d just stare at him, arch a brow, and hand him a paper that said ‘Parent Reading Night RSVP – Required.’

At one point, he was pretty sure you gave Janine more reaction for sneezing glitter.

And the worst part?

The kids loved you. Danny adored you. Sure, you also partially terrified them all, but you had their respect. Which meant Bucky couldn’t even pretend to resent the way you owned every room you walked into. He just had to lean in, play along, keep showing up, and try not to let it get to him when you ended every conversation with a clinical “Have a good day, Mr. Barnes,” like he was some stranger in a waiting room.

So he tried harder.

He wore better jackets.

When Becs didn't have the time, he made Danny’s lunches look like they were packed by Pinterest moms.

He learned all the traffic patterns around Abbott to avoid being even one minute late.

He even tried calling you “Ms. Lane” in that flirty voice he’d once used on girls outside jazz clubs in Brooklyn.

You looked up from your lesson plans, dead-eyed, and said, “Are you choking, or is that how you normally talk?”

You were unshakable.

Immovable.

He was in hell.

Beautiful, dry, completely-uninterested-in-him hell.

And he couldn’t stop coming back.

The door creaked open just as you were nodding along to whatever Janine was rambling about—something involving manifesting healthy communication with her plants or possibly something about moon phases and exes.

You barely suppressed a sigh. You liked Janine in small doses. She was enthusiastic. Kind. Chronically incapable of taking a hint. And lately, she’d made it her personal mission to turn your life into a rom-com, complete with imaginary “will-they-won’t-they” tension and way too much commentary.

“See, what I’m saying is, if he keeps showing up early, that’s basically a love confession. And if you weren’t so emotionally repressed—”

The door opened and he walked in.

Bucky Barnes strolled into your classroom like he owned a portion of the lease. Jacket unzipped, sleeves rolled, hair an intentional mess. He gave Janine a familiar nod and then locked his gaze on you like he always did—like you were the only person in the room.

He smiled. That easy, smirky, I-know-you-hate-this-but-maybe-you-don’t kind of smile.

“Ladies,” he greeted smoothly. “Miss Teagues. Ms. Lane.”

You didn’t look up from your clipboard. “You’re early.”

“Yeah, figured I’d show up before the bell, for once.” He leaned against the edge of a desk, far too casual. “I hear being punctual really impresses a certain someone.”

You deadpanned, “My class is in the library for story time. They won’t be back for another twenty minutes.”

He grinned. “Guess I’ll just have to entertain myself then.”

“God, you two are so adorable,” Janine burst out, hands clasped like she’d just walked in on a Hallmark movie climax. “The way you flirt—so classic enemies to lovers. It’s giving Pride and Prejudice. But like, modern. And in a school.”

You didn’t even blink.

“Janine. Leave.”

You looked at her. Just looked. One long, unimpressed, soul-shearing glance.

“Right. Right, right, right,” she mumbled, fumbling for her tote bag. “I have… bulletin board stuff. Laminating. Paper… science.”

She took two steps backward, then paused, giving Bucky the most exaggerated wink a human could physically perform.

You didn’t react. You were too tired.

She nodded like she was passing the torch of your romantic destiny and literally backed out of the classroom like Homer Simpson into a hedge.

The door clicked shut.

Bucky exhaled dramatically, like he’d just survived a natural disaster. “She’s like a human glitter bomb. No warning. No escape.”

You didn’t look up from your clipboard. “She’s enthusiastic. It’s exhausting.”

He chuckled, low and knowing. “So I guess that means I’m not your type either.”

“You’re not glittery.”

“Oh, come on,” he said, stepping closer, that damn smile still lingering at the corners of his mouth. “I sparkle a little.”

You glanced at him then—slowly, flatly.

“You always this persistent?” you asked, voice dry as ever.

He tilted his head, hands sliding into his jacket pockets like he had all the time in the world. “You always this impossible to impress?”

You shrugged, tapping your pen once against the clipboard before setting it down. “Only with people who try this hard.”

He gave a low whistle, grinning like you’d just scored a point in a game he didn’t mind losing. “Damn, but I bet if I said I was here for the stimulating curriculum and not to see you, you'd kick me out.”

“I’d consider it,” you said coolly. “But I’m invested in Danny’s education.”

“Ouch.”

He stepped a little closer again, but not too close. Like he was testing a line with his toe, just to see if you’d swat him back or finally step over it yourself.

“I ever make you laugh, Ms. Lane?” he asked, real curiosity under the velvet of the question.

You raised an eyebrow. “Do you want a sticker if you do?”

His grin turned into something a little rougher. “I’d rather earn one of those gold stars I see on your discipline chart.”

You didn’t smile. Not quite. But there was a flicker in your eyes he caught anyway, and his grin deepened like he’d won something.

You turned back to your desk, flipping a folder open without looking at him again.

“You know,” he said, glancing around your empty classroom, “this is the quietest I’ve ever seen it. Kind of eerie. I was starting to think the kids were fake—like one of those training simulations.”

You gave a low, unimpressed hum. “If they were fake, they wouldn’t sneeze directly into my coffee when I’m not looking.”

He chuckled, eyeing your desk. “Is that why you’ve got three different mugs over there? Just in case?”

You didn't respond. But the faint upward curve of your mouth—blink-and-miss-it—was the closest he’d gotten to a laugh since the first day he met you.

It made something curl low in his stomach.

“I know I keep saying this, but I’m not just here to bug you,” Bucky said after a beat, his voice edging toward sincere despite the grin still playing at his mouth. “Danny likes it when I pick him up. Says it makes him feel cool when I show up.”

You looked up, just slightly. “He does like showing you off.”

Bucky’s smile softened, just a little. “Kid’s got good taste.”

Then his eyes slid back to you, the cocky glint returning. “Speaking of good taste—what are the odds I could convince you to grab coffee sometime?”

You gave him a long, slow blink. Not mean. Just… devastatingly neutral.

He added, “I’ll be on time. And I promise not to flirt with the barista.”

You opened your mouth—possibly to respond, possibly to destroy him—but before a single word could land, the bell rang.

Shrill. Loud. Unforgiving.

You sighed like the universe had interrupted you on purpose.

“Danny’ll be waiting for you outside the library,” you said, already picking up the clipboard again like this was over and done. “Probably trying to con the librarian into letting him borrow another comic book.”

Bucky hesitated. “So… is that a maybe on the coffee?”

You didn’t even look up. “It’s a ‘your nephew���s in the library.’”

He grinned, slow and crooked. “I’ll take that as a soft yes.”

You arched an eyebrow. “Take it however you want, Barnes. Just go get your kid.”

He turned toward the door, still smiling, still smug—but quieter now. And before stepping out, he glanced back one more time.

You were already back to your paperwork.

But you hadn’t said no.

Bucky was still smirking to himself as he stepped out of your classroom and into the hallway—clearly riding high off your non-answer like it was a personal victory.

And, as luck would have it, he walked directly into Principal Ava Coleman’s path.

She had sunglasses on indoors and a folder she clearly hadn’t opened all week tucked under one arm.

“Good afternoon,” he said politely, offering her a nod and a half-smile.

Ava turned so fast it was like she’d been waiting for this exact moment. “Oh it is now,” she said, eyes raking over him so blatantly Bucky actually paused mid-step.

She watched him until he rounded the corner, then turned on a heel and bee-lined straight for your classroom, heels clicking like trouble.

She leaned into your doorway with no regard for your personal space or your peace of mind.

You didn’t even look up as she strolled through your door, “Girl.”

You kept sorting worksheets. “Ava.”

She gave you a look like she just walked in on free tickets to a concert and front-row seats.

“Now that is the finest white man I’ve seen this whole year,” she said, plopping down into one of the tiny student chairs with zero grace and maximum chaos.

You glanced up, deadpan. “It’s March.”

Ava rolled her eyes. “I meant school year. Don’t try and be smart with me.”

You arched a brow. “Wasn’t trying.”

She pointed a perfectly manicured nail toward the door. “You better quit playing with that man’s heart before I mess around and pull rank.”

You blinked once. “I’m not playing with anything.”

Ava smirked. “Girl, please. You’ve got him showing up early on purpose. That man’s in here more than Gregory and he actually works here.”

You didn’t respond right away. Just gathered your things slowly, expression unreadable.

Then: “He’s annoying.”

Ava stood, smooth as silk. “Mm-hm. And yet he’s got you so annoyed you keep your lipstick fresh after lunch.”

You glanced at her, unimpressed.

“I’m just saying,” Ava continued, striding around the room like she owned it (she technically did, unfortunately), “if you don’t take him, I will. That man is gonna give me some fine, emotionally stable mixed babies.”

You looked at her. Just looked. Slightly disgusted, mostly exhausted.

“Ava. Seriously?”

“What?” she asked, clearly unbothered. “You’re the one over here acting like you don’t notice. Always so uptight, hair all sleeked back like you’re about to defend someone in court. Girl, this is a school.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose. “Ava, what do you want?”

“I’m going out tonight,” she said, waving a perfectly manicured hand like this was some kind of decree. “Clubbing. Drinks. Vibes. You’re coming.”

You didn’t even flinch. “Absolutely not.”

She pointed. “You’re coming.”

“No.”

“I’m your boss. You’re forced to. It’s in your contract.”

“It’s really not.”

“Also,” she added, shrugging, “you’re the closest thing to an equal I’ve got in this place. So you’re coming for moral support.”

You finally looked up, full eye contact. “Ava. No.”

She pointed at you. “Nine o’clock. I’m texting you the address. Now go home, let your hair down and let your scalp breathe for once. Wear something that says ‘I’m open to bad decisions.’ Not ‘I’m about to read you your Miranda rights.’”

You opened your mouth to decline again, but she was already halfway down the hall, yelling something about “energy healing” and “pre-gaming with affirmations.”

You sighed.

Loudly.

“You gotta stop lookin’ like someone stole your dog,” Sam said, nudging his shoulder as they walked toward the club entrance. “You’re killin’ the vibe.”

Bucky shot him a look. “You dragged me out.”

“I’m saving your sad, one-woman-man life,” Sam said. “You need to remember other women exist, Buck. The world’s bigger than that kindergarten teacher who makes you sweat like you’re back in basic.”

Bucky sighed, scanning the line outside the club. “You’re not gonna let this go, are you?”

“Nope.” Sam clapped him on the back. “C’mon. Maybe the actual girl of your dreams is in here.”

“Already found her.”

“You are so damn whipped, man,” Sam muttered.

Inside, the club was all neon glow and bass-heavy music. The air pulsed with energy and cheap cologne. Bucky kept his hands in his jacket pockets, jaw tense as Sam tried to steer him toward the bar.

And then he saw you.

You were standing near a tall cocktail table, back to him, dress hugging every curve like it was tailored by sin itself. That deep burgundy color against your skin, the sheer lace sleeves, the neckline that made his mouth go dry—fuck.

It was like the air got sucked right out of the building.

He stopped walking. Just… stopped.

Sam bumped into him. “What? Don’t tell me you already gave up—”

Bucky lifted a hand, pointing without looking away. “That’s her.”

Sam followed his gaze. “That’s Ms. Lane?”

Bucky nodded, dumbfounded. “Yeah.”

“She teaches kindergarten?”

“Yeah.”

Sam stared a moment longer. “I’ve never wanted to re-enroll in school so bad in my life.”

Bucky’s jaw worked. You hadn’t noticed him yet. You were talking to someone—smiling, even, which was a rare enough sight that it nearly took him out.

Then he saw who was beside you.

“Oh. Ava’s here too.”

Sam turned. “Who’s Ava?”

“The principal.”

Sam blinked. “You’re telling me the tall one with the long hair and wearing that is the principal?”

“Yep.”

“I’m calling Sarah,” Sam said, already reaching for his phone. “We’re transferring my nephews.”

Bucky didn’t respond. His eyes were locked on you—his teacher, his girl, his quiet obsession—laughing in a club with a dress that made his palms sweat. All those weeks of buttoned-up shirts and sarcastic dismissals, and now here you were, looking like a damn vision.

Sam nudged him. “You gonna stand there drooling or go say something?”

“I can’t.”

“Why?”

“I think I’m in love.”

Sam rolled his eyes hard. “God, you’re so dramatic.”

But Bucky didn’t hear him. You’d turned just enough for your eyes to start sweeping the room, and the moment you looked in his direction—

He knew you saw him.

And he knew everything was about to change.

The club pulsed around you—sweaty, crowded, way too loud—and you were already regretting everything.

You weren’t the kind of woman who went out on Friday nights. You were the kind who wrote parent emails about glitter-related injuries and kept a drawer full of emergency dry-erase markers.

The kind who dodged PTA moms like landmines and maintained a firm no-nonsense reputation because the moment you didn’t, someone’s child would be climbing the bookshelf like it was Everest.

But here you were. Burgundy dress, heels too high, lip gloss too shiny, sipping on a drink that tasted vaguely like regret and melted candy.

Ava was beaming beside you, obviously thriving. “Now this is what I’m talking about,” she said, swaying to the music. “You, me, outfits that should be illegal. This is the energy we need.”

You took a sip, trying not to look like you wanted to crawl out of your own skin. “I already want to go home.”

“You always want to go home. You're, like, emotionally married to your couch.”

You opened your mouth to reply, but then Ava froze—gasped like someone had pulled the fire alarm—and grabbed your arm with enough force to startle you.

“Girl. Girl. You will not believe who just walked in right now.”

You frowned, confused. “What—”

“Look.”

You followed her eye line. The club suddenly felt ten degrees hotter.

Bucky Barnes stood at the entrance, taller than anyone else around him, leather jacket open over a dark henley, hair tousled, mouth set in that stupid half-smirk like he knew he didn’t belong there and didn’t care. His blue eyes scanned the crowd like he was looking for someone.

And then they landed on you.

Oh no.

No.

“This is not happening right now,” you muttered, nearly tripping over your own words. “I have got to get out of here.”

You turned, already strategizing your exit route, but Ava threw an arm out in front of you like she was stopping traffic.

“Girl, forget you. Look at that man’s fine ass friend.”

You blinked, turning your head just enough to catch him—Bucky’s friend. Broad shoulders. Clean-cut. Smiling already like he knew how this worked. His eyes were on Ava like she was a problem he was already planning to solve.

“Hell yes,” Ava said. “That’s my man. Manifested. Claimed.”

You were too busy trying to make your brain reboot. Because Bucky was still watching you. He hadn’t looked away once. Like you were the only person in the club. His mouth curved slightly. Not cocky. Not playful. Just… locked in. Sure.

And damn him—you felt it. That same heat in your chest you pretended didn’t exist every time he came to pick up Danny. Except now, there was no desk between you. No escape.

And then, the inevitable.

The two pairs drifted toward each other. Like planets colliding. Like destiny had a sick sense of humor.

It was Ava who broke the silence first.

“Hi,” she said to Bucky’s friend, offering a hand like she expected it to be kissed. “Ava Coleman. Principal. Administrator. Visionary. And I know you’re about to buy me a drink.”

Sam blinked once, clearly amused. “Sam Wilson. Nice to meet you, Ms. Visionary.”

“Mmhm. I know.” Ava looped her arm through his like it was nothing. “Let’s go, future Mr. Coleman.”

You turned, shocked. “Ava—”

She didn’t even glance back. “You’re on your own, counselor. Don’t mess this up.”

And with that, she strutted away with Sam trailing behind her, clearly both confused and deeply invested.

You turned back to find Bucky still standing there.

Still watching you.

And now it was just the two of you.

No classroom.

No clipboard.

No rules.

Just you. And him. And the truth you’d been ignoring.

He smiled.

And you suddenly couldn’t remember a single reason why you ever told yourself he wasn’t dangerous.

Bucky stood there for a second longer, drinking you in.

The lace sleeves. The curve of your waist. The neckline that made his brain stop working for a solid five seconds. It wasn’t just the dress—it was you in it. Out of your usual uniform. Out of your guarded shell. Still composed, but softer somehow. Looser.

“You look—” he started, voice low.

“Hot?” you cut in, arching an eyebrow, mouth twitching just enough to betray your awareness.

He laughed, quiet, head tipping slightly. “I was gonna say amazing. But hot works too.”

You rolled your eyes and took a slow sip of your drink to hide the way your pulse jumped.

Bucky stepped closer, just enough to speak without raising his voice. “I didn’t think you went to places like this.”

“I don’t. Ava dragged me.”

You glanced past him, where Ava was already leaned over the bar with Sam looking both impressed and slightly alarmed.

“And now she’s dragging him,” you murmured.

Bucky followed your gaze and let out a soft chuckle. “Should we check on them?”

“No,” you said instantly. “Let natural selection take its course.”

He grinned again—less smug this time. Quieter. More real. The kind of smile that said he’d missed seeing you. The kind that made your breath catch a little deeper than you wanted to admit.

You took another sip, letting the pause stretch, then tilted your head at him.

The music pounded around you. People brushed past. The lights shifted.

But it felt like everything stilled between you and him.

“I thought maybe, outside the classroom... you’d stop pretending I’m not getting to you.”

Your grip on your drink tightened slightly.

You didn’t look away.

You should have.

But you didn’t.

Instead, you held his gaze like it was a contest. Like you were daring him to blink first. Your chin stayed lifted, eyes steady, but something behind them flickered—just for a second.

Bucky saw it. That crack in your wall. And God help him, it made his pulse jackhammer in his throat.

You tilted your head slightly, that same biting calm in your voice. “You really think you’re getting to me?”

He stepped in closer, slow, careful—not touching you, but close enough that the heat rolled off him like static. “No,” he said. “I know I am.”

Your throat worked on a swallow you tried to hide, but Bucky clocked it.

You were still composed. Still wrapped in that hard-earned edge of professionalism, like even now, in heels and lace, you could throw a behavioral chart at him and end the whole thing.

But your body betrayed you.

The shift of your weight. The way your breath hitched when he looked at your mouth.

You didn’t push him away.

“You always this arrogant?” you asked, voice like silk-wrapped steel.

“Only when I’m right.”

You opened your mouth, probably to put him in his place again—but then the music shifted, a heavy, pulsing bass dropping in from the DJ booth. A sea of people moved on the dance floor, but the space between you and him felt small. Pressurized.

His eyes dipped to your lips, then back up.

“Dance with me,” he said.

You blinked. “What?”

His smirk curled slowly. “You heard me.”

You scoffed, already shaking your head. “I don’t dance.”

“Sure you do. You just don’t want to with me.”

“Accurate.”

“But you will.” He leaned in, voice brushing the shell of your ear now. “Because I’m asking. And because for once, I don’t think you want to walk away.”

You hated how that made your stomach flip. Hated it even more when he held out a hand—not cocky, not smug. Just… waiting.

You stared at it.

Then at him.

Then, slowly, you slid your hand into his.

And that was all he needed.

Big win. Massive win.

He tugged you gently into the swell of bodies, his hand warm against yours, his other settling lightly on your waist. And when he pulled you close—closer than you’d ever let him stand before—you didn’t pull back.

You danced.

At first, stiff. Calculated. Like you were trying to make it not mean something.

But Bucky? He knew how to move. Knew how to guide without pushing, how to lean in just enough to make your head spin. Every time your hips brushed, every time his hand slipped an inch lower on your back, you felt it in your knees.

You hated him for being good at this.

You hated yourself more for liking it.

And when his lips brushed your ear again, breath hot and voice low, you barely heard the words over the music:

“Just admit it.��

You swallowed, refusing to answer.

He smiled against your skin.

He already knew.

You didn’t answer.

Couldn’t.

Because something inside you snapped the second his breath touched your neck. And the next thing you knew, your fingers were gripping his wrist, dragging him behind you through the crowd with single-minded purpose. Not speaking. Not thinking. Just moving.

Bucky didn’t ask where you were going.

Didn’t need to.

He followed like a man being led to his own damn salvation.

You found the restroom near the back—single occupancy, thank God—and yanked the door open, pulling him in after you. The lock clicked behind you just as his mouth crashed into yours.

It wasn’t gentle.

There was no space for that anymore.

You kissed like you’d been waiting weeks to do it—months actually. All teeth and tongue and heat, his hands gripping your waist like he still couldn’t believe you were real. You pressed him back against the wall, palms flat on his chest, lips dragging along his jaw, biting at the curve of his neck just to feel him shudder.

His hands roamed—your waist, your hips, sliding lower, greedy, hungry, completely unrestrained. His mouth returned to yours, catching your gasp mid-kiss as he backed you against the sink now, one hand curling around the back of your neck, the other on your thigh, tugging it up around his waist.

“You sure?” he murmured against your mouth, breath ragged.

You answered by dragging his lower lip between your teeth.

“Fuck,” he breathed.

He kissed you harder.

Sloppier.

Desperate.

The kind of kiss that said he didn’t care about the lipstick smudging or the way your dress rode up or how his belt buckle knocked against the porcelain edge of the sink. It was all teeth and moans and hands gripping too tight.

Your fingers slid under his jacket, then his shirt, pushing it up, needing to feel skin—hot, firm, real. You ran your nails over his stomach and he groaned like it physically hurt to be touched that way.

“You have no idea what you’re doing to me,” he panted.

You gripped his belt, pulling his hips flush to yours. “You’ve got a pretty good idea what you’re doing to me too.”

He looked down at you like he was already wrecked—and still starving.

Like this wasn’t enough.

Like it was never going to be enough.

Then suddenly Bucky let out a breathless laugh, eyes darting around the cramped bathroom as he made sure to lock the door behind you. “In here? Really?”

You smirked, stepping backward until your back met the cool tile wall, the sink brushing your hip. “What?” you said, voice teasing, eyes locked on his. “You’ve never fucked in a public bathroom before?”

He tilted his head, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Have you?”

You shrugged, that slow, calculated way that always made him insane. “First time for everything.”

He stared at you for a beat, eyes dark and full of heat—then moved.

He was on you in a flash, hands braced on either side of your head, mouth finding yours again in a kiss that tasted like restraint snapping in half. It was messy, all tongue and teeth, lips crashing together.

Your hands threaded into his hair, tugging, nails scraping against his scalp as he kissed you harder, deeper, needier. His body pressed into yours, firm and unrelenting, and you gasped when you felt the hard line of his cock against your thigh.

Then he dropped.

Literally—dropped to his knees, palms dragging down your sides with reverence and greed.

“Bucky—”

“Shh,” he murmured, voice rough as his eyes flicked up to meet yours. “Let me.”

His hands pushed your dress up slowly, worshipfully, bunching the burgundy fabric around your hips. He hooked a finger into your panties, pulled them to the side, and let out a soft, guttural groan.

“Jesus Christ…”

Then he dove in.

His mouth pressed against your cunt like he was starving, tongue parting your folds with a groan that vibrated against you. You cried out—soft, sharp—your hands flying to his hair again as he started to lick, slow and purposeful. Long, wet strokes that made your knees go weak.

One hand clutched the sink for balance, the other fisted in his hair as he sucked your clit into his mouth, groaning like you were the best thing he’d ever tasted.

You bit your lip to keep quiet—pointless, really. Your hips bucked against his face and he held you there, arms locking around your thighs, face buried between your legs like he had no intention of coming up for air.

“You taste so fucking good,” he growled, voice muffled as he licked deeper, tongue fucking into you before circling your clit again with maddening precision. “Been thinking about this since the first day I saw you.”

You choked on a gasp, head tipping back, the edge already building—too fast, too strong.

And he wasn’t stopping.

Not for anything.

Your grip tightened in his hair as Bucky’s tongue dragged a slow, torturous circle around your clit, only to suck it between his lips with a low, obscene groan that vibrated through your entire body.

“Fuck—” you gasped, breath hitching as your thighs threatened to close around his head.

He wasn’t having it.

His left hand braced against your hip, holding you open, steady, while his right slid up your thigh—palm rough, fingers sure—until he reached your slit. One thick finger slipped inside, slow, dragging along your walls as he moaned like he felt it too.

“You’re so tight,” he breathed against your cunt. “So wet for me. This pretty pussy’s been waiting for me, huh?”

You shuddered, jaw slack, hips rolling down onto his face and hand like your body knew exactly what it needed. He pumped the finger slowly, deliberately, curling just right to make your knees buckle. Then he added a second—stretching you, filling you—and the heat in your belly twisted hard.

“Oh my god—Bucky—”

“That’s it,” he murmured, eyes flicking up to watch your face as his fingers curled deep inside you. “Let me hear you, baby.”

His mouth returned to your clit, licking in messy, desperate circles while his fingers fucked into you faster—his rhythm syncing perfectly with your shaking body. Every thrust hit that spot inside you with aching precision, your thighs trembling as your moans broke free.

You weren’t composed now.

You weren’t silent.

You were his, unraveling in his mouth, pulsing around his fingers, the world narrowing to the slick sounds of your body and the obscene groans he made as he devoured you like it was his last meal.

“I could do this all night,” he panted, fingers curling hard as your hips jerked. “You gonna come for me? Gonna soak my fuckin’ fingers?”

You couldn’t even form words—only nod, only whimper, only clutch at his hair and the edge of the sink like you might float away if you let go.

“Come on, sweetheart,” he growled, tongue flicking your clit fast and filthy now, fingers pounding into you. “Come on my face.”

Your body clenched, the pressure snapping like a whip crack—your orgasm crashing over you so hard you cried out, hips shaking, thighs locked tight around his head. He groaned, licking you through it, fingers still working you until you were whining, pushing weakly at his shoulder.

He finally pulled back, mouth and chin glistening, chest heaving.

He looked wrecked.

And proud.

Bucky stood, chest rising hard, his jaw clenched like he was fighting off every urge he’d ever had. His mouth was slick with you, his fingers still glistening, and he looked down at you like you were the only thing tethering him to sanity.

Then he cursed.

“Shit—” he growled, hand dragging down his face. “I don't have a condom.”

You blinked, still breathless, still shaking.

Then you reached for his belt.

You pulled him close with both hands, grabbed his face, and kissed him hard—tongue sweeping into his mouth, tasting yourself all over him.

He groaned, loud and broken, his hands flying to your waist, gripping tight.

“I’m on birth control,” you panted against his lips. “It’s fine.”

He froze for half a second.

Then everything snapped.

He spun you around, bent you over the sink, and shoved your dress up around your waist again with a growl that sounded like it was ripped from his chest.

“Fuck, I’ve wanted this,” he muttered, dragging his pants down just enough to free himself—his cock hard, thick, flushed at the tip.

You looked at him over your shoulder, eyes dark, daring. “Then take it.”

He didn’t hesitate.

He grabbed your hip with one hand, the other guiding himself to your soaked entrance. He groaned when he felt how wet you still were, and then he thrust in—hard, deep, one sharp movement that made both of you cry out.

“Jesus—” he bit out, buried to the hilt inside you.

You gasped, your hands bracing against the sink, your head dropping between your arms as he pulled back and slammed into you again, rougher this time, like all the control he’d been clinging to shattered in one thrust.

His grip on your hips was bruising.

His rhythm? Relentless.

“Look at you,” he gritted, hips snapping into you again and again, cock dragging perfectly over your walls. “All that attitude. All that sass. And now you’re fucking dripping for me.”

You moaned, arching your back, pushing back onto him. “Shut up and fuck me.”

That did it.

He pounded into you, deep and rough, grunting with every thrust, each one sharper than the last. Your hands scrambled for grip, one of your heels slipping as he rutted into you like he was trying to claim you, pull every sound out of your throat that you’d refused to give him in daylight.

“Been thinking about this since the first time you called me Barnes like it was a threat,” he growled, one hand fisting in your hair to pull your head back. “And now you’re letting me fuck you in a goddamn club bathroom?”

You gasped, eyes fluttering. “Shut up.”

He fucked you harder.

“You love this,” he growled in your ear. “You love the way I feel inside you. Admit it.”

Your nails scraped the porcelain.

He yanked you upright against his chest, his cock still buried inside you, pounding you with punishing, perfect rhythm.

“Say it,” he demanded, voice ragged. “Say you wanted this.”

You moaned, nearly sobbed. “I—fuck—I wanted this—”

He groaned, low and guttural, lips dragging over your shoulder and hand drifting to your neck.

His hand on your throat wasn’t choking—just holding. Just claiming. His mouth was at your ear, breath hot, voice wrecked. You were bent over the sink but upright now, your chest flush to his, and your eyes—

He made sure they were on the mirror.

“Look,” Bucky growled, fucking into you hard enough to make the sink creak. “Look what I’m doing to you.”

Your gaze caught the reflection—and fuck, it was obscene. Your lips parted, cheeks flushed, sweat-damp hair clinging to your temples. His broad chest against your back, one hand gripping your hip, the other still around your throat like he was holding you steady so you couldn’t escape how good it felt.

Every thrust slammed into you from behind, deep and fast, his cock stretching you wide, hitting that perfect spot over and over until your legs were shaking.

You whimpered, unable to hold back anymore.

“That’s it,” he rasped. “Let me hear you. No classroom. No clipboard. Just you. And me.”

Your head tipped back onto his shoulder as his thrusts grew rougher, deeper, fucking you in front of the mirror like he wanted you to remember this—to see exactly what he turned you into.

“I can feel you squeezing me,” he panted. “So fuckin’ tight. You gonna come for me?”

You moaned, body tensing, orgasm coiling hard in your belly, your thighs trembling, the pressure too much.

His fingers moved down your stomach, finding your clit, rubbing tight, fast circles as he slammed into you.

“Come for me,” he growled into your ear. “Come on my cock. Let me feel it.”

You shattered.

It was sharp, messy, loud—your cry bouncing off the bathroom walls as your pussy clenched around him, body locking up, hips jerking uncontrollably. You came so hard you saw white, barely able to hold yourself up as your orgasm rolled over you in crashing waves.

“Fuck, that’s it,” Bucky grunted, and then he lost it.

His rhythm stuttered, a broken gasp tearing from his throat as he buried himself deep one last time and came inside you, hips jerking, breath ragged against your neck.

He held you tight, forehead pressed to your shoulder, still inside you, both of you shaking and panting, sweat-slicked and spent.

The mirror caught everything.

Two people undone.

Two people who couldn’t take it back.

And neither of you wanted to.

The room was quiet now, save for your breathing and the soft hum of music bleeding through the walls.

You blinked slowly at the mirror, still bent over the sink, your hair mussed, dress bunched around your hips, Bucky’s body heavy and warm behind you. He was still buried inside you, both of you barely recovered.

He exhaled, lips brushing your shoulder, then your neck. “Well, damn.”

You let out a breath that might’ve been a laugh if you weren’t still coming down from the best orgasm of your life.

He finally pulled out with a low groan, pressing a kiss to your shoulder as he did, and then helped smooth your dress back down over your thighs. His touch lingered just a second too long, like he wasn’t ready to let go of you just yet.

You straightened, turned slowly to face him, your expression mostly neutral—but your eyes were warmer than before. He saw it. He always did.

Bucky leaned back against the sink beside you, tucking himself back into his jeans with practiced ease, still watching you with that lazy post-orgasm smirk.

“So,” he said, running a hand through his hair, still slightly breathless. “Now that we’ve gotten the hard part out of the way…”

You arched a brow, lips twitching. “That was the hard part?”

He grinned. “Figuratively. And literally.”

You rolled your eyes, turning to check yourself in the mirror. Your lipstick was gone. Your cheeks were flushed. Your neck had the faint outline of his stubble. You looked exactly how you felt: fucked out and dangerously close to letting him in.

You dabbed at your collarbone with a paper towel.

He watched you quietly for a second, then said, softer now, “Come on, baby. Just one date.”

You froze.

He didn’t miss it.

“One date,” he said again, stepping a little closer, voice still low. “Not the club. Not the classroom. Just you and me. Dinner. Or drinks. Hell, coffee if that’s all I get.”

You looked at him, really looked.

He was flushed, eyes bright, hopeful in a way he hadn’t been in weeks. There was something real behind that smirk now. Something open. Unprotected.

You should’ve shut him down.

Should’ve said something cold. Dismissive.

But instead, you leaned in—kissed him, slow this time, less teeth, more tongue. Just a whisper of what could happen again if you said yes.

When you pulled back, your lips barely brushed his.

“You’re gonna regret asking me out, Mr. Barnes.”

He grinned.

“Not a chance, Ms. Lane.”

[hinge]

Hinge presents an anthology of love stories almost never told. Read more on https://no-ordinary-love.co

[yan-randomfandom]

How would yandere saja boys react to reader being a child of Gwi ma, but is nothing like him as in they want to help people?

Saja Boys x Demon!GN!Reader

a/n; i keep missing in my fics, i keep forgetting the plot!! so sorry anon,, i don't know what i'm trying to do in this one (⁠´⁠;⁠︵⁠;⁠`⁠) but i do love the new scenario!! tho sadly this isn't obviously yandere,,

— 👑

"Dying king with a crumbling crown," you hum, a teasing smile stretching across your feline lips. "Will he let the fire go out?"

Jinu sighs, absentmindedly plucking his strings. "As much as I love seeing two tigers, I think it'd be best if you take another form. It's creepy watching you talk with its teeth."

With a chuckle, you shapeshift into his bird instead, licks of fire dying as soon as it appeared. You made sure to keep the tiny hat on. "Yeah, sure, okay. Hey, that was a pretty bold move to your king. Y'know, my creator."

One of his demon companions snort. You snap your eyes toward the one with abs. "That's Jinu for you. Knows what he wants, knows what Gwi-Ma wants. As it's always been."

Jinu doesn't react, he doesn't reply—yet, you and the rest of the Saja Boys could tell he's deeply uncomfortable. He continues his focus on his bipa.

Baby coughs. "Look, I'll do the rapping, yeah?"

"I already said that—"

... After a while, you stare blankly as they get lost in their planning. Listening to every word. Paying attention to their movements. You can barely contain the frown itching to crawl on your—oh, wait. You have a beak.

"Master," Mystery suddenly calls, poking a finger on your wing.

You make an expression with your beady eyes. "Do not call me that. What is it, Mystery?"

His lips curl. "Why are you here?"

All your six eyes blink. The rest seem to be intrigued for your answer.

Of course, you're here to disrupt their plans. You don't say that out loud. Always so grateful that you and Gwi-Ma have cut connection, so even he can't hear your spirits.

"I believe I don't need to answer you," you shrug, earning some looks. You flatter your wings and stand on Mystery's shoulder instead. His smile grows. "Just keep doing your magic."

— 🐦‍⬛

You wonder what the Huntrix girls are doing right now.

Probably better than... whatever this is.

"Gwi-Ma is going to be so disappointed in us."

"What? No! The opposite! He'd be so impressed, we'll never have to be punished—"

"Master's waiting for us to move already."

Gwi-Ma this. Gwi-Ma that. Even if you're the literal spawn of the guy, it's still such a bummer with him being the only topic in this damn world. Well, aside from famine and destruction of your kind. Okay. Enough of this. You have to check on the girls.

Jumping off of Mystery's shoulder, you shift into your true form, pink fire dancing in your silhouette.

You thought you could quietly leave but—

"Where are you going?" comes Jinu's voice, inquisitive. Suspicious, almost.

Romance cast you a look. "You haven't even seen our rehearsal yet! Or, maybe, you'd like to see it live—"

You flow your fire to Romance's side, patting his head in reassurance. "I'll be there."

Maybe that's good enough to be convincing. Then, you leave.

— 🔥

In one of the farthest seat of the stadium, you sit and watch as the Huntrix practice for their performance. Put simply, they're amazing. You always did prefer acapella from the girls.

You've taken a human form, hopefully that will be enough for them to lay off if they spot you. Act like one of the staff who's slacking or whatever.

"So this is where you are," a familar deep voice mutters, and you immediately shoot up a hand to their face. A face that's come from a half-body in the seat next to you, the Honmoon tear strong in your senses.

Between your startled glare and fingers, Baby smiles in curiousity as his eyes glow. "I'm a little hurt. Didn't know you prefer the hunters."

You relax. Okay, cool. He found you spying on Huntrix. "No one will believe you."

A cough. You follow the noise on the floor and find three out of four other Saja Boys. Abby, Romance, and Mystery stares at you with something in their expressions—completely unreadable.

"Does Gwi-Ma know you're—"

Hmm. Darn. You interrupt whoever spoke. "Why are you all here? Did you come to look for me?"

You turn, seeing Baby's immense stare on you. But he doesn't answer. None of them do.

... Weirdos.

"Where's Jinu?"

Baby pauses, then points at the other side of the area.

You follow his direction and Jinu barely meets your eyes.

A frown makes its way to your lips. This human... This human is a wonder. You have Gwi-Ma's memories—while the others are fairly content with their sins, you know Jinu's so much more complicated than that.

Honestly. He'll know about Rumi's patterns in one way or another.

Someone pokes your cheek.

You sigh. "Mystery, stop doing that."

"Ah, no, I'm Abby. You're acting weird."

You? Acting weird? Haven't you always been? You look down on your patterns. An intricate design and color unlike the others.

The weight of your memories — not even yours, really — rumbles in the pit of your core. You don't like what you are, or where you are, or who you are. But, at the same time, you care so much. It's hard to think.

"I'm not answering that," you say eventually, using your higher position whenever convenient.

—

errmm my bad, also im trying to combine asks as I go ... hrrmmm eeemm hmmmm it's not working well

i tried to go with demon reader (anon1) and reader who hates the saja boys but loves huntrix (anon2) but for this one—they just really don't like what they stand for

[akiranzee]

IF U TAKE MUZAN REQUESTS CAN I PLS REQUEST LOVESICK HUSBAND MUZAN WITH HIS S/O PLEASSEE 😩😩

if u need more context then it’s still demon au and canon compliant but the only difference is that he’s Sooo soft around his wife. like absolute mush, worships her, says she’s his equal, blah blah. headcannons r fine!!!! whatever u wanna do w it, doesn’t matter if it’s demon or human reader

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ LOVESICK HUSBAND MUZAN WITH WIFE S/O!!

───────────── ♡ ───────���─────

𖹭 it was love at first sight, no matter how many times he and you doubt it.

𖹭 his love language? physical touch ‘cause he’s so bad at words of affirmation. 𖹭 he’s still the same, evil man you met, the only difference is that he was never evil with you. no matter how many times his demons — especially douma tell you that he’s just putting up a loving facade to mingle with the human world. 𖹭 but douma is so wrong. dead wrong. if only you saw the look on his face when he heard muzan’s voice from your shared room, “darling, don’t believe what that demon says, okay? he’s nothing but a lowly scowl, he doesn’t even equal up to you — hell, maybe you even equal with me.” 𖹭 a lovesick fool. douma concludes. because, 𖹭 one, he follows you everywhere, touches every part of your body, but he touches your stomach most, saying he’s gonna put his heir in their one day. 𖹭 two, he listens to every word you say, like that one moment where muzan was about to flick douma’s head off for the ninety-forth time, you stepped in bravely and told him he was too harsh with douma, so as for douma’s next punishment, he just flicked off half his head. 𖹭 three, last but not the least, muzan hates it so much when you spend time with his male demons, or just ordinary male humans. despite you reassuring him literally almost every night, his jealousy would still bubble up and get all protective over you, sending death glares all over to the poor male. 𖹭 yes. that’s how much power you hold over the most powerful demon in existence. 𖹭 it doesn’t even end there, he’s gotten even more handsy on you when you undergo fever three consecutive times, trying to persuade you in becoming a demon so that you don’t have to suffer, but of course, you reject. 𖹭 in your first fever, he was just a little bit calm on it, just constantly checking you from time to time, making sure you eat all your meals and herbs/medicines, and leaves you when you’re asleep. 𖹭 but, poor man got confused when just a day you’ve gotten better, you got fever again the day after, so he’s by your side for the next three days taking care of you, observing you. 𖹭 then, at the third time, he finally panics, sending all his demons, also akaza who’s on a ‘special mission’ to look for the blue spider lily, to gather all the best herbs and best doctors all around town. this is where he also just acts like your shadow. you wanna go to the bathroom? he’ll assist you alright. you’re smelling and sweaty? he doesn’t care and changes you gently (he’s trying). you don’t like the food or herbs or medicines? he’ll nastily put it in his mouth and kisses you as he makes sure the food or herbs goes down your throat. 𖹭 yes. that’s how unexpected this man could be. 𖹭 and yes, this is you having him wrapped around your fingers.

───────────── ☆ ─────────────

a/n: help this is soo bad i just can’t imagine a lovesick muzan😭😭 that’d be the end of the world alright.

© akiranzee || do not steal, plagiarize, or repost my works without my permission.

[rafesangelita]

♡ WHEN YOU KNOW, YOU KNOW - PROLOGUE :: nothing could’ve ever prepared you for the handsome kook that came crashing into your life.. quite literally. it’s hard to think that at one point you and rafe didn’t know one another, especially since you two have spent every passing day together for the last four months.

warnings: drug use, driving under the influence, reckless driving, rafe arguing with ward, descriptions of a mild injury, mentions of addiction and sobriety, blood, reader tends to rafe’s wounds, fluff, opposite of slowburn, forced proximity (?), time skip (from four months ago to the current day), slight angst

a/n: ahhhhh!! it’s finally here, and i couldn’t be more excited to share this with all of you!! all feedback is deeply appreciated <3 feel free to ask to be added to the taglist if you’d like!

links: series masterlist | next chapter

wc: 2.8k

rafe set a new record for himself tonight, and he wasn’t proud of it. not only did he lose count of the lines he snorted off of topper’s coffee table, he also had ward blowing up his phone. “aye, man, i don’t think you should be driving.” topper slurred, downing the alcohol in his glass. cleaning the residue from his nose, rafe shook him off, stumbling through the crowd of people in the living room before hopping in his truck and peeling out of the packed street.

jaw ticking, rafe cursed to himself when his phone started ringing, ward’s contact lighting up the screen. “i’m going home already, alright? yes— yes, dad! i know we have a meeting with some investors in the morning.. what? no i’m not fuckin’ high!” he rambled on, feigning offense when his father called his bluff. “just stop— i know, okay? i’ll be there in a minute—” before rafe could finish his sentence, he took a sharp turn, swerving onto the curb before hitting a light pole.

you were locking up the icecream parlor when you heard the high pitched squeal of tires against the pavement, a loud crash making you jump from your spot in front of the door. spinning on your heels, your eyes widened when you saw a black truck just feet away from the main street, smoke billowing from under the hood. unsure of what to do, you looked around to see if anyone was nearby, but of course, the strip was always empty at this time of the night.

“son of a bitch!” you heard someone groan before they tumbled out of the front seat, falling face down against the concrete. you gasped, dropping your purse before running across the street. “are you okay?!” you helped the stranger sit up, wincing when you saw blood dripping from his nose. he stared at you wide eyed, his pupils blown as you kneeled in front of him. he opened his mouth to speak but no words came out.

“it’s okay, you don’t have to say anything.” you reassured him, slipping off your cardigan before holding it against his nose. you noticed the open gash on his brow, your heart sinking when you saw his eyes soften. “we really need to get you to the emergency, do you have a phone?” rafe shook his head, leaning back against the tire of his truck. “no. well, yes, i have a phone.. somewhere.. but i can’t go to the emergency, not like this.” just then, rafe felt a sharp pain shoot up to his temple from his neck.

“yes, like this! you’re all scraped up.” you said incredulously. “no, i mean i’m not sober.” as if he was waiting for you to judge him, rafe watched as your expression didn’t falter. “i promise you, going to the emergency and getting help from a professional is a lot more better than not going at all. your truck can always be replaced; you can’t.” your words lit a fire in his chest, the sincerity in your tone making him crack a pained smile.

“i’ll go to jail for this, and i just can’t do that right now. i have to be somewhere in the morning, my dad will kill me if he finds out..” remembering that he was on the phone with ward before he crashed, he scrambled up to find the device, only to groan and plop back down on the street. still holding the pink cardigan to his head, you guided his hand to hold it for you. “what are you looking for? i can try to find it.” rafe let out a shaky breath, mumbling “my phone.” before you got up and spotted it near the tire.

turning it over, you held it up for him to see. it was completely shattered. “i don’t think it’s going to work..” you handed it to him, a bitter laugh falling from his lips. “what the fuck?” he breathed out, holding his head in his hands. you’ve never seen someone look so defeated before, your feet moving on their own before you could think. “do you think you can walk? my place is only five minutes away.” rafe looked up like he couldn’t believe the words that just came out of your mouth.

“your place?” he repeated, half shocked and half confused as to why you’d offer him help. “yes,” you nodded, taking his hand in yours, “i don’t have a phone there, but i can at least get you cleaned up..” rafe tried to weigh out his options, only to realize he didn’t have any. “are you sure?” he was truly at your mercy. “yes. here— just keep holding this to your head, let me go get my purse and we can be on our way.” you left him with your cardigan, running across the street and grabbing your bag before getting him up.

“i’m a lot stronger than i thought.” you joked, attempting to lighten the mood as you wrapped one of rafe’s arms around your shoulders. “fuck, what about my truck?” rafe leaned his weight on you, nearly making you topple over before you took a step. “someone will find it and call a tow, you could call the towing company tomorrow,” you explained to him, “do you have anything valuable in there?” rafe laughed, shaking his head. “just my piece of shit phone that has no value now.” he grunted, walking with a slight limp.

“hey, uhm, what’s your name?” rafe looked down at you, both of you sharing a glance before he looked away. despite him not being in the right state of mind, there was no doubting how insanely pretty you were. “y/n.. and yours?” why on earth were you getting butterflies right now? “rafe.” was all he replied before he started asking you an abundant amount of questions. rafe learned a lot about you in the short five minute walk to your camper. what you did for a living, where you currently worked for some extra money, what your hobbies consisted of.. along with being a pogue.

“so.. you live all alone in this pink camper in the middle of the woods? aren’t you scared some psycho will come across it and want to know who’s inside?” he asked, genuinely concerned. “a psycho?” you flashed him a playful smile, “like you?” rafe watched as you unlocked the small screen door, a chuckle threatening to slip from his throat. “i would laugh if it didn’t feel like i had a thousand needles stabbing me in my brain right now.” he swallowed thickly, accepting the hand you offered him to step in.

he was immediately hit with the smell of freshly baked cake and vanilla frosting. he loved it. “i know it’s really small in here, but you could just take a seat right there on that little couch and i’ll go get my first aid kit.” rafe did as you said, eyes darting around your space. pink florals, white lace trim, usually he’d be irked by this kind of decor, but for some reason unbeknownst to him, he didn’t mind it this time. rafe leaned back on the soft sofa, settling into the cushions while you scrambled for the little first aid kit somewhere in your bathroom.

spotting the small box on your little shelf, you grabbed it before making your way back to where rafe was sitting. he opened his eyes momentarily, finding you even more pretty now that darkness didn’t surround you two. he kept his gaze on you, watching as you took your bottom lip between your teeth. “sorry about this..” rafe took the pink cardigan away from his head, the fabric now stained with blood. “oh, don’t worry about it,” you smiled, “you needed it more than i did.”

pressing a damp cloth to his nose, rafe groaned when you applied the slightest bit of pressure. “i’m sorry!” you pouted, taking a seat next to him. rafe reassured you he was alright, a groan leaving his lips as he clutched his stomach. eyebrows knitting in confusion, you lifted his shirt, your eyes widening at the sight. he was scraped and bruised, a small wound adorning his lower abdomen. “here, lets get this off.” you pulled rafe’s t-shirt over his head, both of your cheeks heating at the compromising position.

“we could stop if this is too weird for you—” you shook your head, taking an ice pack out of your freezer. “no, it’s okay.” you pressed the cold bag to his skin, still wiping away the dried blood on his face. “i’m not sure how far you live, but i don’t think it’s a good idea for you to walk anywhere.” your voice was barely above a whisper, the sound of it soothing rafe more than any kind of medicine he could take right now. “don’t worry about me, i’ll be fine.” rafe watched your fingers dance across his stomach, your nails sparkling underneath the dim lighting of your camper.

you thought for a moment. “i guess what i’m trying to say is; i think you’re better off staying the night here..” you trailed off, meeting his gaze, “you’ll be able to get to a phone in the morning and call whoever you need to. you should just get some rest right now.” rafe was stunned. you wanted him to stay? “i don’t know..” he sounded uneasy, not because he didn’t want to, but because he couldn’t help but feel like he was imposing. “it’s okay, i swear! you could take my bed since there’s no way you’ll be able to sleep on this little thing.”

“no, no way, i’m fine with sleeping on the floor.” you smiled at him, eyes flickering down to his lips. “no, really, it’s okay, rafe.” he liked the way his name sounded rolling off of your tongue, “i’ve fallen asleep plenty of times over here, i’ll be fine on the couch.” you got up, wringing out the towel you were using to clean him up. “i just have one rule, though,” rafe held the ice pack to his stomach, humming as you grabbed some ointment and a couple of bandages.

“you can only lay in my bed if you’re clean.. and you need a shower.” the corner of rafe’s lips quirked. “if you want to see me naked all you have to do is ask.” you blinked, pushing his chest softly. “that’s not what i meant.” you giggled. “i’ll get you a change of clothes, just get in there for right now.” rafe was already too far in to look back. getting up with your assistance, you guided rafe to the bathroom before shutting the door behind him. “there’s clean towels and wash rags on the shelf!” you called from the kitchen, yawning as all of tonight’s events started to catch up with you.

rafe didn’t know what to make of all of this. one minute he was high out of his mind, crashing into a light pole with his dad on the phone, and the next he was inside some gorgeous girl’s camper getting tended to before using a strawberry scented body wash in her shower. what the fuck was his luck? taking his time in the shower, rafe thought about how he’d explain everything to ward tomorrow, from the towed truck to the cuts and bruises.

he wondered if ward would even care.

by the time rafe was done, he was stepping out of the bathroom smelling like a slice of strawberry cake with nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. he glanced over at the couch, your back facing him as you slept soundlessly. moving aside the pink curtain that concealed the doorway to your room, rafe slipped into the sweatpants you left out for him, settling underneath your silky soft sheets shortly after.

how was it that you just happened to be the only person around when he crashed? how did he crash right in front of where you worked? and why were you being so nice to him? rafe had so many questions and couldn’t think of any logical answers. he didn’t believe in fate, but looking back on it, that seems to be the only explanation. the next day he woke up to his clothes freshly washed and wearable again, your music playing softly in the kitchen. “good morning!” you chirped, your hair and makeup already done for the day.

“hey..” rafe was still shirtless, his eyes following your every move. “what time is it?” he took a seat at the little booth by the wall, his head no longer pounding the way it did last night. “it’s about to be ten. i was debating if whether or not i should’ve woken you up earlier, but you really needed to sleep.” you leaned back against the counter, admiring the handsome man in your camper. “your wallet should also be with your clothes there on that chair,” you started, “..so i was thinking; the little store just right outside of these woods has a pay phone that you can use.”

rafe nodded. “yeah, that sounds good.” he couldn’t think of the last time he woke up without not wanting the day to be over with already. “hey, listen— uhm, i owe you a huge one for everything you’ve done for me.. i apologize if it was an inconvenience in any way, but i really do appreciate you.” rafe got up, grabbing his wallet from your room. “here. please take it.” you looked down at the hundred dollar bills tucked between his fingers, shaking your head as you moved his hands away.

“absolutely not.” you laughed. “no, please, take it.” rafe got closer, opening one of your palms before closing it around the bills. “rafe, i don’t want it!” you backed away, “i’m serious.” rafe let out a sigh. he already knew how this would go, so instead of urging you to keep it, he placed the money on your dresser after he was done changing. “well i guess i’ll be leaving now.” you masked the disappointment on your face by offering him a smile. “yeah, i guess so..” without saying a word, you and rafe stared at each other before he wrapped his arms around you, the action giving you butterflies.

before you could say or do anything, he pulled away and left, leaving your camper feeling more emptier than usual. you walked over to the door where you watched him walk away until you couldn’t see him anymore, a pout on your lips as you did so. while you were sure that you would more than likely never see him again, you couldn’t have been more wrong. that day was the first of approximately one hundred and twenty one days, and counting, that you two would spend together. rafe came back to you the next day with a brand new pink cardigan to replace the other one you so selflessly let him ruin.

one icecream date turned into several, which then progressed into him coming over to your place with an overnight bag, his very own toothbrush now taking a spot next to yours. which then led to him picking you up and dropping you off at work, and so on until he finally said that you were his. you two spent the entire summer underneath the trees, rolling around in the grass as you two gasped each other’s names into your mouths, sharing sweet kisses and an even sweeter love that continued to grow with no intentions of ever stopping.

rafe had gotten sober out of fear that he wouldn’t remember what a love like this felt like if he was high all the time, and without judgement, you were there with him every step of the way. you stayed by his side when he felt like all hope was lost, and for that he could never thank you enough. although ward wondered where rafe would go off to, he didn’t bring himself to care as long as he was doing what he needed to do for the family business. with his dad off of his back, and you to come ‘home’ to everyday, he could say that he was finally, truly happy.

even now as you two sat in your favorite diner, sharing a milkshake and laughing at whatever the other was saying, you felt no worries when you and rafe were together, your heart threatening to burst at the seams everytime you looked at him. everything was perfect.. at least for now. all good things must come to an end, and when you two are threatened by none other than ward himself, the love bubble you two have been mindlessly floating in is suddenly popped.

taglist: @percysley @oceandriveab @archiveofvirtue @weirdowithnobeardo @mattyskies @ankoluvly @cnnamongrl @b3bybunny @littlelamy @nemesyaaa @lovinqbella @jeonmochi99-blog @corpsebridenightamare @whorelaud @mymvlody @idontknowwhyimhere33 @ursovaine

[inuiiwonderland]

Empire

Being crowned as empress of the Yuunkaedangon empire at the age of 17, you begin to start loving the new status and power. But it soon gets a bit boring and demanding the moment you turned 18. Harem? Heirs? Tf not!

Possible Au??

Words: 1.5k

Fem reader but I don’t really say any she or her in this.

-

One thing you hated since you were young was tradition. Being told that you can’t do things your way because it wasn’t “appropriate” or “right”. The day you were crowned as empress of Yuunkaedangon, you were only 17 years old. There was a huge celebration that day that lasted 4 days.

It was fun at first. Being in control, power, money, respect, especially at a young age. But soon after, it started becoming…rather a bit boring and annoying. The higher ups wouldn’t stop nagging you about what your next big step is. Most importantly, when are you going to start your harem?

You scoff at the idea. You just turned 18 and they are already asking -demanding- about possible lovers and heirs?

How annoying

Now your kingdom isn't shy when it comes to polygamy. Past ancestors are known for having the biggest harem any kingdom has had.(lots and lots of kids…). And you weren’t opposed to the idea either but you just didn’t feel like starting one now.

But it was only a matter of time of how much you can endure before you crack.

Which brings you here

The Roseheart family

Mrs. Roseheart stands before you with a deep bow. She presents you her son, Riddle Roseheart. He stands gracefully beside his mother.

Not bad

Riddle is definitely an attractive boy, but you really don’t care about having a consort at the moment.

Why can’t those annoying vassals leave you alone?

But the way Mrs. Roseheart dug her fingers into the boys shoulder after noticing your lack of interest. You can see the fear in the boy's eyes.

Interesting

With a heavy sigh, you accept him.

Mrs. Roseheart smiles before bowing before you. You stared them down from your gold throne. Not missing the relief on the boy's face.

That night Mrs . Roseheart leaves but not before whispering something in the boy's ear which causes him to nod. He turns to you, a little shy to be left alone with you now.

“Don’t worry, in here you are safe” You tell him. He stills for a moment. Processing your words in his head before he nods.

-

Having him by your side wasn’t bad. You were actually grateful for having someone intelligent and knowledgeable like him by your side. He has been a huge help to you when you are stuck with something regarding the kingdom. Now this isn’t to say you were dumb, you are actually a very intelligent and strong kid since you were young. You were taught great etiquette lessons, sword practice, literature, educated in arts, etc.

which made your father very proud.

But sometimes with all the vassal nagging at you every second that you breathed, kills your brain cells. Literally.

So having riddle is such a relief and a blessing. Though you won’t say that he’s a little…dedicated to his duties.

You were tired and agitated after another day of dealing with your vassals and their obsession with you having a heir.

Jeez, can they give you a break?

The moment you opened your door chambers you nearly went into cardiac arrest upon seeing Riddle on your bed with nothing but a robe.

You quickly turned around and asked him what he was doing. The boy was confused and also a little embarrassed before saying that as his duty as a consort, it’s his responsibility to give you an heir.

Sevens what’s with people and heirs?!

You sigh before telling him in the sweetest tone that he doesn’t have to do that. The both of you are still young and you don’t want to pressure him into doing something he doesn’t want to do. He tries to reason with you but you still refuse. It isn’t because he’s not attractive, which was his first thought and you quickly reassured him that wasn’t the case.

But you can also tell this is something his mother wanted him to do. So you told him that it wasn’t necessary. When he brings up the vassals and their demands for an heir, you tell him not to worry about them.

They aren’t important anyways

Before he could say anything, you give him a small kiss on his head before sending him off to his chamber.

You attended a ceremony, and if you’re being honest, you dont know whose it is or what it’s about. (It’s literally held in your palace and it’s for you)

You watch as different men and women flaunt at you in hopes of being picked. You can see in the corner of your eye riddle getting a little jealous.

How cute

You took a sip of your wine as you watched people dance and joke in laughter. Riddle sits by your side, enjoying a delicious tart made by one of your many favorite bakers. (The clovers will always get it right every time) your eyes roamed lazily through the crowd of people before halting at the sight of the kingsholar family.

The Sunset Savanna royals

The king and queens faces light up at the sight of you. They make their way towards you and riddle and you quickly down the rest of your wine. The three of you talk, politics, land, everything you can think of. Now the kingsholar are angels really but you weren’t really in the mood to talk. You nod along to whatever the king was saying and even smile or laugh here and there after he says something remotely funny.

As you and the king chatted, while his wife and riddle talked about how his life in the palace is, your attention shifts to the figure standing all alone in a corner. Sipping wine as a scowl is permanently attached to his face.

“And- oh?” He follows your gaze before chuckling.

“That’s my younger brother. Leona kingsholar! Wanna meet him?” And before anything could leave your mouth the man called him over. Leona scowls deeper at the call of his name, he downs his cup before beginning to walk to where the four of you are.

“Leona! Meet the empress of Yuunkaedangon! Empress, this is my younger brother and the second born prince of sunset savanna, Leona” you gave him a greeting as he did the same.

Now you have heard about the second prince of the sunset savanna, but you never saw what he looks like. After all, the second born prince rarely leaves his room, according to rumors and news.

And boy oh boy. you won’t lie, he’s a very beautiful man

“Ah! So me and my wife have heard about the beginning of your new…harem!” You froze. The glass of delicious tasty wine rested on the tip of your tongue at the king's words.

Don’t tell me

You lowered your cup. A wide smile spreads across your lips before asking him where he is going with this.

“Guess you caught on. Well, my brother has been having a little trouble I suppose, on finding a wife…or any girl really- and so I thought it would be a wonderful idea if you allowed him to join you and your harem” Oh he was serious.

Both Leona and riddle froze. Leona obviously had not a single clue that his brother was basically selling him out to you. (His words)

The king waited patiently for your response, while Riddle anxiously waited for your answer.

“And is Leona okay with this?” You ask. You didn’t want to force this man in your harem and make him think he doesn’t have a choice! The king blinks, not expecting you to ask him that. He then turns to the younger prince of Sunset Savanna and asks him.

“Well? Are you up for it?” Now everyone's attention was on Leona. He stays silent for a moment, thinking. You waited patiently for his answer. Leona eyes flicker down to see you gently caressing riddles hand that was wrapped around your arm. He can tell that you are really gentle with the redhead.

He scoffs before looking away.

“I don’t care”

“Excellent!” The king cheers. You look to meet Leona’s emerald green eyes. Kinda asking him if he was truly okay with it.

After all, eyes never lie.

-

The night the vassals heard about your new addition to your harem, they grew excited. For what reason? You don’t know. Something about sunset savanna now becoming new allies for the Yuunkaedangon empire and more land, trades, possible heirs (they whispered that part).

You brushed through Leona brown locks. He was looking at the new collection of hair pins, accessories, jewelry, and combs that you have bought for him upon his arrival. Riddle was sitting down on one of your many fluffy and comfortable chairs as he read a book.

You love how peaceful and soothing this moment felt. Leona's eyes were closed as he let you play and mess around with his hair. As much as he likes to act like he doesn’t like it, he loves the way your hands run and play through his hair. Your touch was soft and gentle. That’s what he first noticed when moved in. You were gentle.

You never raised your voice, hand, or did anything that would seem harmful to him or riddle. He’s obviously heard countless stories about emperors/ empresses treating their consorts/concubines terribly. But you…you aren’t like that.

He likes it

How gentle you are

But there’s no way in hell he’ll ever tell you that.

Nuh uh!

For now, he’ll enjoy your presence silently.

-

Riddle and Leona for now. I don’t know if I should do it as dormleaders ONLY or overblot characters (Jamil or Kalim, IDK HELP ME PICK)

Good night!👍🏻

[lostingrayrain]

hello hello!! i bought homicipher the day it came out and i'm so in love with it.. but there's no content whatsoever and i'm so sad 😭😭 could you write literally anything for any character.. i just need to see more homicipher content!!! 😭😭💗

I GOT YOU ANON I've clocked in like 20 hours since the release on November 1st omg....

I've been cooking up something for my first Homicipher post.....here's some general thoughts on the relationships/dynamics with the main guys.

Characters: Mr. Crawling, Mr. Silver Hair / Mr. Silvair, Mr. Gap, Mr. Hood, Mr. Machete, Mr. Scarletella

Word Count: 1454

Warnings: sfw, some mentions of canon-typical violence

Mr. Crawling

He loves you!! He loves you so, so, so much!!!

Do you love him?

He asks you that. A lot. He loves to be reassured that you adore him. And he's always vocal about how much he adores you.

He follows you everywhere, like a lost puppy. It's honestly so endearing and sweet. He's constantly on the lookout for you.

He also adores physical touch, once he knows it's fine. Other than the little headpats, he likes to touch your legs, especially your calves. In times of rest he's incredibly cuddly and loves to nuzzle into you.

Pet his hair and he'll melt immediately. It's so relaxing to him.

He's usually with you, but when he's not he's often on the lookout for gifts and trophies to bring to you. He just wants to make you happy, in any way possible. The second there's anything you mention liking or being fond of, it's a priority for him to see if he can scrounge it up.

If you'll let him, he'd love to touch your hair. He will play with it and make silly nonsensical braids and giggle quietly to himself all the while.

He's a bit of a chatterbox. He loves to talk to you. Any time he's been away he likes to give you little reports of what he's done or what he's seen. And he wants to hear all about your day or your dreams, too. There's never a time he won't want to hear what you have to say.

Mr. Silver Hair / Mr. Silvair

You are so very interesting to him! He wants to study you.

But not hurt you. Normally, he probably would have already dismembered you to watch how your body pulls together again, but since you're friends with Mr. Chopped, he's put aside that urge.

Instead it's been replaced by something else, though he doesn't really understand what it is. He's never felt it before. Or maybe he has? Maybe he doesn't remember? Could you help him remember?

Whenever you’re feeling ill, he finds that he wants to make you feel better. He’s trying hard to learn how to keep you together just as you are.

He’ll get you to lie down when it seems you’re feeling faint, and carry you to bed when you collapse in the middle of an errand. Before he realises it, he's massaging your hair. Think nothing of it. Your head hurts, right? So it makes sense to pet you.

He likes to watch you sleep. He can’t put a finger on why. He likes to tell himself he’s doing armchair research when he’s really just….zoning out.

He's extremely perceptive and observant. He's always checking your reactions to things and events to figure out what you like or don't like, or to try to understand how you're feeling in the moment.

He's the type to politely ask if it's okay to touch you before doing so.

He would never hurt you unless your urges became unbearable, in which case it's self-defense, right? He'll make sure you'll turn back to normal and he'll be there for you every step of the way.

Mr. Gap

He's probably...one of the strangest denizens of the otherworld. You're still not sure if he has a body. But he has helped you on multiple occasions. You've found yourself growing fond of him.

You often see him peeking at you from various holes and gaps. Sometimes he tries to get your attention, sometimes he doesn't. Sometimes he just watches.

When you find a bag in the underworld, you begin carrying it around with you.

He's usually inside, but sometimes not. You have no idea where he goes.

He'll often bring back little gifts like weapons or food, like some bizarre cat. When he finds out you like candy, he tends to focus on that.

He always asks for your heart before he gives you anything, and you always say no, and he always grumbles.

But somehow you'll always find those same things coincidentally in your path or somewhere in the room after you wake up, if you've taken a nap.

He likes to scope out newspapers and magazines too, and show them to you, especially if they feature himself. He's so proud of that.

Over time, his requests for your heart grow less and less frequent. Sometimes, you forget he used to ask you for it at all, until he suddenly pipes up with the query again.

Is his wanting your heart the same thing as wanting your love? Things to ponder.

Mr. Hood

He's quiet and reclusive but he's there for you whenever you need him.

You need or want anything? Just ask. He'll give it to you immediately with hardly a question.

No harm will ever come to you whenever you're with him, and he hardly lets you out of his sight. He's incredibly protective of you.

He loves to carry you in his arms or on his shoulder, whether you're small or not. It's no bother to him. He's more than strong enough.

Hand touches are so pleasant to him -- whether you're touching his hands, or he's touching your face. He's secretly touch-starved. As long as you don't shy away, he'll continue to hold onto you.

He enjoys quizzing you on your knowledge of the otherworld language. When things are slow, he’ll randomly ask you if you know the names of certain things.

Whenever you both encounter something new during your travels, he’s quick to ask you if you know what it is or outright tells you what it’s called.

He seems a bit self-conscious of having minimal form. What is under his robe? If you don't ask he'll be grateful. He doesn't know himself.

But if you're not repulsed by his anomalous form, that's just -- incredibly touching.

He claims to not understand love, but he'll never abandon you.

Maybe he doesn't understand. Maybe he's forgotten.

But there's something about you that comforts him, and makes him feel safe. Quite paradoxical -- he's the one doing the protecting, after all. But your presence soothes him.

Mr. Machete

He's just looking for a way to not be bored. And being with you -- somehow, it's fun.

Maybe because he's usually alone, so he doesn't often have anyone else to talk to. It's...fun to banter with you, even if sometimes your words confuse him.

It's unquestionable that he's the brawn, you're the brain of this duo. Maybe the beauty and the beast, too?

He's always, secretly, been a little bit of a coward. The second things don't look like they'll turn out well for him, he ditches and flees.

But, oddly, you give him the courage to stand against things or monsters he would have thought were impossible to defeat.

Sometimes, you die -- whether by accident or because something else got to you before he could. But he always sighs and waits for you to wake up again. If you're mad, it's a little funny. You were just too slow that time.

He likes sparring with you. You have to get faster, right? Your weapon is pretty funny, too. So small and yet somehow you manage to not get overwhelmed by him. He's not holding back. He never would. Right?

He likes to pick you up and sling you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Likes to hug you like a teddy bear, too. You're soft and warm. You feel nice against him.

He's not the type to ask, but if you made any indication of not liking anything, he'd stop. He doesn't want to break you.

Mr. Scarletella

You are his queen. He literally worships the ground you walk on.

You are so fascinating to him. He just can't believe he's found someone as perfect as you. Someone who likes to destroy and kill people, just like him? Immaculate.

You haven't and never will give him your name. That's fine. He can live with that, as long as you're with him.

You've likely given him something else to call you. It's not quite your name -- maybe it's not your full name, and he knows it, because he can't quite grasp your essence. But it's enough to be able to give a sound to the person -- thing -- he likes most in this world.

He likes to say that not-quite name, and he says it often, just to get your attention.

He's fascinated by everything about you -- including how small you are in comparison to him. He loves that he can easily dwarf your form and loom over you. It's exhilarating in a completely different way from mindless violence.

Speaking of which, his favourite thing is without a doubt to commit violence with you. There's a new urban legend steadily growing in the human world, of a pair of murderers characterised by their red and white umbrellas. You're the perfect perfectly awful duo, truly.

Even when he's not with you, he's always somehow got an eye on you. Most of the otherworld residents know by now who you belong to, and they'd never lay hand on the one cherished by the red umbrella man.

[moonstruckme]

hello, sweetie!! i've been reading your doctor!remus content for a while now, and i literally can't get enough of it. you write him so well, and i just can't help it when i binge through every fic you have of him. <33

is it okay if i send in a request? please ignore this if you're not taking any right now or if you don't want to write it. totally fair!!

could you do one where reader (female or gender neutral is fine with me) sort of breaks an ankle or an arm, and it hurts like hell? aside from pain meds, reader craves a hug or two from remus, but he's very busy and he almost doesn't have the time to visit reader?

again, don't feel like you have to write my request. i completely understand.

have a nice day or night. and remember to stay hydrated and take care of yourself. :) <3

Thank you angel, hope you're taking care of yourself too <3

cw: hospital setting, Remus is slightly negligent of his patients but don't worry they're all fine because I make the rules

doctor!Remus x fem!reader ♡ 759 words

Remus thinks that he handles stress well. He’s good at prioritizing, and he can juggle more patients than most when the hospital is at its busiest. Remus is often the one his colleagues call for when there’s a child in need of calming, frantic families who won’t let them work, or when they can’t think straight because they’re so overwhelmed. He prides himself on having his shit decently together at least while he’s at work. 

But, unfortunately, knowing you’re in one of the curtained rooms lined up in front of him and not being able to spend his shift sitting with you has Remus’ carefully wound concentration coming apart at the seams. 

He finds himself cocking his ear for your voice when he knows he’s only two rooms over from yours. The patient he’s meant to be paying attention to has to repeat the name of the medicine she takes twice before he gets it. One room over, and hearing your gasp makes him stop mid-sentence, standing up straighter. His patient asks if he’s okay. 

Remus does feel close to the appropriate amount of guilt when he rushes that last patient’s final checks before discharge. He resolves to steep in penitence later. 

You’re chewing your lip when he pushes your curtain open, your eyes flitting up to his with something like relief. 

“I only have a minute,” he breathes, pulling the curtain closed behind him before kissing you. “Hi, lovely. How is it?” He looks down at where you’re still holding your fractured wrist in your lap. “Have you not been seen to yet?” 

“They said a doctor would come soon.” You lean forward to kiss him again, hitting the corner of his lips. “And look, here you are.” 

Remus frowns. “Bailey should have been in here by now.” 

“I don’t mind waiting.” 

“You’ve been here over half an hour. Your arm should at least be stabilized while you wait.” He glances out the crack in between your curtains, trying to catch a glimpse of his negligent colleague. “How’s your pain?” 

“Rem, I’m fine,” you say. “Can we just—” 

“I’m going to go get him in here.” He touches your unhurt shoulder, giving it a brief, reassuring squeeze before he turns to go. More focussed than he has been since you arrived. “Just sit tight, it won’t be much longer.” 

“Remus.” The splinter in your voice halts him as his hand closes over the curtain. Remus turns back around. 

Your eyes are glossy. It shakes him in a way nothing else can, like none of the horrors of his work ever do. It’s not pain, he doesn’t think. There’s a raw quality to your expression. 

“I don’t want him to come in here yet,” you whisper. 

Remus finds his voice dropping to match your quiet. “Why?” 

“I just want you.” 

His heart shudders. “Sweetheart,” he says, compassion heaving his tone, “I want to stay here with you, too, but you know why I can’t be the one to treat you. It’s against the rules.” 

“I know, but I just—can we—” You blink harshly, trying not to cry. Remus feels sick. For someone who deals with other people’s pain all day long, it’s sort of pathetic what the sight of yours does to him. “Can I just have a hug before you go?” 

“Oh,” he murmurs. An ache in the back of his throat. “Yeah, of course.” 

Remus has moved closer to you without realizing, drawn by the need to fix your upset, so it only takes a half step to be able to get his arms around you. You put your head on his shoulder like you’ve been wishing for it for hours. 

“Is this alright?” he asks, careful not to press anywhere near your injured arm. “Don’t let me hurt you.” 

“This is good.” Your voice is a watery consistency. Relief seeps from your every pore. 

Remus feels it seep into him, too. He rubs between your shoulders. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to brush you off.” 

Your sniffle breaks his heart. “You didn’t brush me off. I know you’re busy.” 

“I always have time for a hug.” He presses a kiss into your hair. “It’s, like, half my job, you know.” 

“Are you hugging other girls?” 

“Only the very, very sad ones.” 

You make a sound he suspects might be a muffled laugh. “Guess I should count myself lucky I got some of your time, then. In between all these sad girls.” 

Remus hums. “I may have a bit of a soft spot for one in particular.” 

[blooddlusts]

WHAT A COINCIDENCE ⋆｡°✩ lee heeseung

( YOUR PHONE JUST DIED ) ── cheater! lee heeseung x fem! reader

synopsis: in which you catch heeseung with the person he told you not to worry about...

fic notes: cheater! lee heeseung x fem! reader, mentions of alcohol, cursing, heated argument, caught in the act of cheating, reader is a workaholic

kiara's notes: had this idea in the back of my brain for a while now. i guess sabrina's new song really gave me the motivation to actually write this lols

word count: 1.2k

the last time you checked, you weren't planning on going on to that club. as matter of fact, your whole day was completely revolved around the date that you and heeseung were going to have that night. it had been ages since you two had a date. granted, you had been working long hours at your job but still. the date had been circled in red marker on the calendar you two shared at your apartment and you couldn't help but feel giddy as you continued to look down at your watch counting down the minutes to be with him.

that was, of course, until your face dropped. the day you two had spent giggling with excitement about, the day that you had been looking forward to the whole week had plummeted with one text:

can't make it to our date today. something came up with work, maybe we can reschedule another day? i'm sorry for the last minute cancellation. love u

it felt like someone had punched you in the stomach —quite literally. you'd think after hearing heeseung complain about how you're hardly home, how he doesn't see you, how he wants to spend more time with you would mean he would put this date as a priority. yet, you knew better than anyone what it meant to be committed to work. you couldn't blame him. if anything the person to blame was yourself.

and so there you sat in your seat, staring at the text message, trying to find every way to let the fake smile sink into your lips. date cancelled, no plans for the night —you looked over to your co-worker and nodded. it turns out you were free tonight after all.

and so that's how you found yourself at the club. that's how you found yourself laughing with your co-workers as the music blared in your ears and you found yourself taking shots to ease the sinking pit in your stomach. but not even the alcohol could calm the knots that continued to twist your gut.

it had been hours since heeseung cancelled your date. and while you texted him back asking when would be best to reschedule, he didn't answer. no text. nothing. it was as if he had disappeared off of the face of the earth. and while you were used to him not being able to give direct answers, at least he would react to your message. but not tonight. it was complete radio silence.

you had to be drunk because now you could hear his laugh echoing in your ear. yeah, that has to be the answer. at least, that's what you say to reassure yourself as you grab the lonely shot that's waiting for you at the bar. you quickly take the shot while turning around to eye the crowded club in front of you. if only you hadn't.

if the punch to the stomach had been bad this morning, consider the following like someone had ripped your heart out and stepped on it in front of you. because there he was, fucking lee heeseung. his phone was out and he was there taking selfies with a girl who had her lips glued to his cheek. what the actual fuck.

you squeezed your eyes shut. you shook your head. this was a dream, it had to be. but as you opened your eyes to see him wrap his arms around the girl and press a kiss to her neck you realized that you were not trapped in a dream, rather, you were in a nightmare.

and yet, as you squinted your eyes. you could make out the face of the girl that was away from you. and this time, even after someone had stepped on your heart, it felt like they had just stabbed it. because the last time you checked, the girl that was gnawing at your boyfriend's neck just so happened to be the supposed "ex-girlfriend" heeseung told you not to worry about. you know? the one that he said he was "just friends with?" fucking bullshit.

you immediately called him, seeing what he would do. consider it a stupid action because you watched in realtime as he looked down at his phone, saw your name on screen and declined your call. so this was more important than the date?

it had to be the drinks that made you walk over to him. it was definitely the alcohol that made you shove his ex-girlfriend off of his neck. but no alcohol was responsible for you slapping him across the face. and in that moment, you could see heeseung go from complete anger to absolute wide eyes as he saw whose hand had slapped him.

he didn't say anything when you grabbed him by his wrist and proceeded to drag him out of the club. he didn't say anything when you yelled at his "ex-girlfriend" to "get the hell out of your face and go fuck some other asshole." in fact, he remained silent until you had his back pressed against the building as you two were outside of the club in the cold air with only the streetlamp to illuminate your faces.

"look, i can explain,"

"oh please, go ahead. explain to me why i saw you out there with your ex-girlfriend. explain to me why she was out there sucking on your neck. is that the so called 'work thing' that you had to cancel our date for?"

"oh come on, i was saving you the trouble,"

"what the hell are you talking about?"

"you know exactly what i'm talking about. every damn time i try to schedule any time with you it always gets shut down with work—"

"—so that's what this is about? my job? you think that's a good excuse for cheating on me with your ex out of all people?"

"it's not like that,"

"oh really. because you had your hands all over her two seconds ago. i asked when would be best to reschedule for our date and don't say your 'phone died' or any of that bullshit i saw you take pictures with her," you said as you started jabbing your fingers into his chest.

"look, she was lonely and she needed some company, okay? we're still friends—"

"—oh, so do you kiss all of your friends?"

"okay fine. you know what, you caught me. yeah, i was cheating on you, okay? and you know what, i honestly don't give a damn that you found out. because you know what, at least she cares about me!" heeseung snapped as he threw his hands up in the air.

"what are you talking about? i care about you?"

"please, stop lying to yourself. all you care about is your damn job. you don't have any time for anyone, you don't have time for your friends, and you definitely don't have time for us,"

it felt like a dozen of paper cuts had burned into your heart when those words escaped his lips. but clearly, heeseung didn't care seeing the tears prick your eyes. he made it clear who he had picked. and it wasn't you.

"fine. go back to her,"

"i was always planning to,"

reblogs, likes, feedback & comments are appreciated!

[fakesimp]

Oh lovelies, we're lacking of zzz men content. So here—

A few Headcanons for my favorite zzz men from me <3

Hugo being not much of a sweet tooth, yet also having hypoglycemic is a bit frustrating for him. And so if you ever mention that you want him to eat sweets when you're out on a walk with him in exchange you'll also hare with him, he'll definitely tolerate it. Eating the sweets together with you. Why not?

Hugo will definitely whisper sweet nothings into your ear just to get a reaction out of you. He'll bask into your flustered face, like he knows how attractive his voice is. And he'll use it to his advantage. Especially when you say that you like his voice.

Harumasa is a clingy man. He'll cling to you, dramatically telling you that he's sick (when he's clearly not) just so you can get him off from work. And it works, sometimes. You'll oblige into this dramatic moments of his. Sometimes you don't, and by you rejecting the idea to help him, you'll earn a pouty harumasa.

Harumasa will definitely cuddle you to seek comfort from his nightmares, at first, he won't hug you to sleep. But don't be surprised if in the middle of the night you feel a pair of arms wrapped around you, a familiar smell of a shampoo product strokes your nostrils, along with a few hair strands tickling your collarbone and neck.

Lycaon is actually easily flustered if you push the right buttons. And if you successfully fluster him, you'll have his tail wagging behind him, his ears folded downwards along with his hand covering his mouth. Letting out an awkward cough. And you can tell he likes it from how his tail is wagging behind him, betraying his calm and composed façade.

Lycaon screams act of service and word of affirmation, he'll follow you around, holding your shopping bags, complimenting you everytime you show him your choice of clothings or accessories. Reassuring you that you look stunning in anything you wear. And he definitely will buy you flowers, a bouquet of flowers that reminds him of you. He'll also keep one flower with him at Victoria housekeeping just so he knows when he needs to buy a new bouquet for you.

Lighter will always have candies with him, lemon candies. Out of the blue he'll offer some to you because he doesn't know how to initiate conversations, he's a pathetic hopeless romantic man. Yet also inexperienced with romance, so he'll ask a few things from you on what to do when people went out on a date. Though, there are moments where he'll take you out around the outer ring, with his bike. Taking you out to view the stars outside New eridu.

Lighter is a simple man, he'll be a putty in your hands if you ever decide to treat his wounds after he's done fighting in the ring. You'll have him just sit there, eyes staring at you like a lovesick man as you treat his wound with such gentle gesture. He never got that treatment, you're the first, and will be the last that he'll ever let someone entering his comfort zone.

Seth is a cutie, easily flustered. Just tease him a bit you'll have him red. Flirt with him, he'll malfunction. A stuttering mess even. But there are times when he's so oblivious to your flirts that you literally have to tell him that you're flirting with him, and it will definitely, once again, fluster the poor boy.

Seth never let anyone touch his tail despite how fluffy it looks (look at it, like how can you not have the urge to touch it?) but if you ask him nicely, he'll let you. And by Gods is he obsessed with how gentle you are with it, especially when you decide to brush his tail? He'll shyly ask you to brush his tail next time you meet. If only you know that ever since you brush his tail the first time, he purposely stop taking care of it just so he could feel your touch again.

Wise have a protective instinct due to his older brother nature, so he's definitely protective when it comes to you. Despite his protective self, he also respects your personal space. But when it comes to cuddling session? Sorry to say he'll pout if you don't let him cuddle with you. He'll even go as far as sleeping on the couch if you reject his cuddles. You literally have to softly coax him back to bed, because he's not going back to the bed until you convince him to that you'll cuddle with him.

Wise too gentle, too forgiving sometimes. Yet also too dense to realize that someone loved him, it frustrates you with how oblivious he is. Or, ..maybe he doesn't. Maybe he hides his feelings too well. You just need to see deeper into his actions, maybe you'll see bits of his reciprocation of your love.

©fakesimp • 2025 || Do not copy/translate/use for ai

Okay, that's all from meee, once again, disclaimer this is a few Headcanons from me about my favourite zzz men. Hope you enjoy it <3

We need more zzz men content, though the zzz women contents are all good food 🤤.

[melwnst]

────── ⋆⋅☆ DATING DEAN WINCHESTER HEADCANONS

⭑.ᐟI’m obsessed with this… kicked my feet and twirled my hair while writing this..🤭 should I make a part two?

word count. 1k

supernatural masterlist/full masterlist/support my work

──────────୨ৎ──────────

⭑.ᐟDean wouldn’t admit this, but he LOVES being the small spoon when you sleep. He feels protected and in a sense it helps him when he doesn’t want to feel alone, he feels safe. You’re the only one who knows, because Dean doesn’t want other people to see him as weak, or too attached-he has issues with how people view him.

⭑.ᐟhe doesn’t look like it from other people’s point of view but he truly is a sweetheart. Maybe it’s just with you, but he gets really soft. Like he’ll confess things to you at night that he wouldn’t tell anyone else. Whether it’s him being real about his emotions, or telling you embarrassing things that he did as a teenager that still haunt him. He’s so precious actually.

⭑.ᐟDean HATES when other people look at you. Not in a weird jealous and possessive way(only sometimes) but it’s mostly because he thinks he doesn’t deserve you, so whenever someone looks at you, he thinks you could just walk away from him. It’s not because he doesn’t trust you- he does and he knows you wouldn’t do it, but his trust and abandonment issues get the best of him sometimes and he can’t help but think like that.

⭑.ᐟon the other hand, when he does get jealous and possessive, let’s say at a bar on a night out when he feels confident, he gets like really pissed. He goes into starring contest with whoever’s eyeing you to try and intimidate them, and if that doesn’t work he gets vocal. It could be an agressive ‘can I help you?’ Or with a protective hand on your waist, he’d say something like ‘you need something?’. I don’t see him as someone who’s too agressive because he is intimidating so most times he doesn’t need to go too far, they look at him and just walk away cuz they know they have zero fighting chance.

⭑.ᐟokay. So, in bed? Yeah. He’s good. He’s literally Dean Winchester, there’s nothing he can’t do. Too tired? He’s got you, no need to lift a single finger, he’ll take care of you, even if it takes all night. However, because he’s a softie it’s not always rough. Sometimes it’s slow, he tells you he loves you, his pace doesn’t evolve, he does it just the way he knows you like or want it in the moment. When it’s rough, the aftercare is even better. He apologizes or makes sure for HOURS! That you’re okay and that he wasn’t too rough. You assure him it was perfect- but a part of him feels guilty sometimes although he had a great time. He likes slower sex better.

⭑.ᐟHE’S SO BIG OKAY THERE I SAID IT!!!!!!!

⭑.ᐟhe loves holding your hand like if he goes more than an hour without holding your hand or at least touching you in any way shape or form, he loses his mind. It soothes him, the way your thumb caresses the back of his hand, the way his thumb does the same at the back of yours. Sometimes you swear he thinks your hands are one big soccer ball by the way he holds both of your hands in his because he doesn’t wanna let go😭

⭑.ᐟhe loves physical touch but words of affirmation are his favorite. It wasn’t at first because it took him awhile to open up and not feel ashamed for feeling feelings- normal human emotions. But now? Not only does he worship you and lets you know, but he doesn’t go one single day without telling you he loves you, because with that job he knows tomorrow isn’t promised. On his side, he loves being reassured, so he loves giving you words of affirmation but he LOVES getting them. He enjoys feeling wanted and loved because he didn’t have that growing up.

⭑.ᐟhe loves driving around with you. Like at night if he’s bored he’ll just drag you to the impala and drive with no direction just so you can spend time outside of the bunker just the two of you.

⭑.ᐟhe also LOVES stargazing. Sam teases him about it, but he genuinely loves doing that with you. After driving around he’ll find a new spot and you’ll both lay on the impala watching the stars. It can last hours and neither of you mind, sometimes you don’t even talk you just hold each other and that’s enough.

⭑.ᐟhe doesn’t tell you but he hates the fact that you do this job too. If he could shield you from all of it, keep you in the bunker he would. He can’t, obviously- he knows that you do it for the same reasons he does, and it’s important to you, but he always gets this gnarly uncomfortable feeling at the pit of his gut before you go right when you find what the next hunt’s gonna be. You can tell- but you know it’s a touchy subject so you don’t bring it up.

⭑.ᐟsometimes he talks to you when you’re asleep (KILL ME NOW!!!!!!!!) like the first time he told you he loved you, he thought you were asleep- except you weren’t. So the next day you brought it up and you swear you thought he was about to cry of embarrassment. You obviously reassured him and told him you felt the same, so he felt better instantly. But that does kinda haunt him from time to time, he cringes when he thinks about it.

⭑.ᐟpersonally I think Dean loves bear hugs. He loves to hug you however- but bear hugs are his ultimate favorite. He tries not to do it when people are around, he’s not that fond of PDA, except at bars and what not- but when you’re alone he’s like a soft teddy bear, it’s so cute.

⭑.ᐟif you’re sick and beg him to stay away he will have the BEST time choosing movies and snuggling with you. He couldn’t care less about getting sick, he wants to be with you and try to make you feel better.

[hinge]

Hinge presents an anthology of love stories almost never told. Read more on https://no-ordinary-love.co

[wolviensabes]

Wolverine and Sabretooth in rut. You are completely screwed (literally).

Primal mutants = rut cycle. Obviously. Written in a headcannon style. NOT poly, the title looks a little misleading lmao. Not edited so pls ignore mistakes.

Minors DNI. 18+

Logan aka Wolverine

Logan gets crazy when he's in rut. He tries his best to keep his distance at first because he knows if he gets near you and smells you, he will lose all of his composure and throw you onto the bed.

He growls and huffs a lot, he's vocal about his needs and he warns you many times before he gives in. "This isn't like before...if I fuck you, I'm fucking you hard. Once I start I won't be able to stop." Logan's voice wavers with desperation as he tries to keep himself controlled.

The thought of him losing all his composure and pinning you down, making you take it, turned you on more than you thought, and he could smell it.

Logan gets a little cocky when he smells your arousal, and he drags you into the bedroom for some much needed relief...for the both of you.

He tries to be as considerate as possible, but in rut he's much more driven by instinct and focused on himself. He can't stop himself from driving into you and reaching his climax as soon as possible.

Something about him using you to relieve his primal need turned you on so badly, you laid as he wanted you, rutting into you from behind as he let out loud, guttural groans and growls into the back of your neck. He stretched you so good, and his thrusts always hit the right spots.

The marks he leaves on you are insane. He leaves bruises where he holds you, how he tosses you around the bedroom, his teeth and mouth leave various bites and dark love-marks. He doesn't mean to hurt you when he throws you around, in the moment he's blinded by his desire and he can't stop himself.

In the brief moments where he calms enough to recover some sense, usually only after cumming many times inside you, he will look you over to make sure you're not hurt. He wouldn't want to hurt you, but his instincts make it hard for him to control his strength sometimes.

He doesn't like you anywhere besides his place, and honestly...wear loose fitted clothes. Or nothing you really like. Because it's going to be shredded off your body. One time you wore one of his shirts and he ripped it off you without a second thought.

Logan's rut can last anywhere from two weeks to a month. He only experiences one per year, either in the fall or the spring.

He tries to disappear for most of it, fearing he will literally fuck you until your body can't take it anymore. But with your insistence, he relents and gives in.

He's so appreciative of you, you learn to help him not just with sex, but by making things as comfortable as possible. Ruts hurt. He is almost in desperate need of relieving himself, and you do what you can, even though he understands he can't constantly fuck you. There's always other ways you can help him.

When his rut comes to an end, he's more affectionate rather than needing to fuck every day. He tries to do things he knows you like as a thank you without being too mushy about it. He lets his actions speak for themselves.

"You doin' alright, sweet thing...? Nngh m'almost done...just a little more." He will grunt to you, either getting ready to plow you again or during, he does his best to reassure you with words even when it's hard for him to communicate fully.

Even if it's hard at first, you get used to it and it's a good thing to experience with him. It brings you both closer, having been there for him during it.

Victor aka Sabretooth

Dudeee please. Victor is quite literally an animal when he's in rut, he becomes 90% non-verbal, and all he wants to do is fuck.

The second you come home he slams the door behind you and grabs you, smelling your neck with deep inhales. His chest vibrates deeply, guttural growls escaping with each breath he took. His hands are firm around you, one hand moves to grab your jaw and tilt your head back.

You try to speak to him, but the only responses you get are growls and low snarling. You finally turn to face him, with great difficulty since he nearly imbedded his claws into your flesh. He huffs deeply, looking more wild than usual. "Victor...what's gotten into you...?"

He'd watch you constantly, rubbing himself all over you. Cooking? He's behind you, chest to back, rubbing himself against your body. Sitting on the couch, he's almost on top of you. He constantly is brushing against you, or holding you close enough to be touching him.

He grooms you regardless if you want him to or not. He will tear your shirt off and lick your skin, most of the time he aims for your tender spots. He licks your neck and ears, over your chest, your face, everything. If you try to stop him he snaps and growls at you, so you just sit there and let him do his thing.

He also surprisingly likes when you reciprocate. You don't have to lick him back, but messing with his hair or showering together is a good compromise. If you can manage to get him in the shower...he likes his musk and likes having his musk all over you.

Victor stalks you. He stalks you around his cabin and watches you clean or do whatever else. When you least expect it, he pounces on you and drags you into the bedroom. "M'sorry sweets, but you're gonna be sore as hell when m'done."

Victor is a lot more rough and unrelenting than Logan. He claws you and bites, he does make an effort not to cause any severe harm, but there's a first aid kit by the bed for a reason. There is a weak urge to hold back, but honestly he can't help himself.

He fucks you from behind 90% of the time when he's rutting, he gets the best hold on you from behind and he can really push his cock far inside you, plus you feel much tighter that way.

From behind he can also bite down on the nape of your neck, and he holds on as he completely ruins you. His teeth sink into your flesh while his hips snap into your ass over and over until cum is overflowing out of you.

Victor's rut can last anywhere between two weeks and two months. He also goes into rut twice a year, once in the fall and once in the spring.

Unlike Logan, Victor doesn't bother hiding his rut from you. He tells you what it is before he enters it, and he does give you the chance to disappear for the time if you think you can't handle it.

If you decide to stay while he goes through it then...you'll definitely be feeling it for two months. Nearly feels like he fucks you open, and not only that, but he is almost always buried lapping you. He licks, sucks, and cleans your sex, loving all your sounds of desperation. It just urges him on even further.

When his rut is over, he is visibly much more protective over you. You endured his brutality and slight aggression, now he wants you to stay at his home so he can keep you somewhere he can control.

Victor isn't one for words, he prefers to show things rather than say them. But deep down he's glad that you help him, he adores your willingness and it makes him feel more possessive over you. Big cat man purrs as he licks you clean after~

Ty for reading 🧡

Dividers by @/strangergraphics

Cover image from Wolverine Vol 8: Sabretooth War Pt 1 (2020)