#and can you believe this is only the first one

[zephyrchama]

Can't stop thinking about the brothers calling MC "master" since that new teaser trailer came out. The game is called "One Master to Rule Them All." It's always been called that. This massive potential has been right in front of our eyes the whole time.

Lucifer, who only uses it in private when he's feeling particularly devilish. He wraps his arms around you, looks you right in the eye, and asks, "how does my master feel today, hmm?"

Mammon, who has an empty wallet and the urge to gamble: "Maaaster! Can I borrow some cash? I can, right? I'm your first, after all. I'll just take it from your wallet."

Leviathan, who wants to go to an anime collab cafe but is too anxious to go alone, so he begs you: "Please! Master! It's only open this week and I just have to collect all 24 limited edition cafe coasters! It'll be easier if we go together!"

Satan, who catches you when you stumble and jokingly asks, "are you okay, master?" He likes seeing the little sparks of wrath in your eyes that mirror his own.

Asmodeus, who thinks the word is hot and enjoys your reaction when he comes to steal you away from other people by saying "hey! I need to speak with my master. I'll be borrowing them for a while. I'm sure you don't mind."

Beelzebub, who hungrily stares at the food in the fridge with your name on it. He knows he needs to butter you up to have any chance of success: "Hey master, are you gonna eat that?"

Belphegor, who uses it at the most unexpected times. He texts the group chat, "does anyone know where our master is? I can't find them." It sets off a long chain of messages. "Master's not in their bedroom?" "Master? Haven't seen 'em." "Did you try yelling 'master!' and seeing if they respond?" "I saw master getting something to drink about an hour ago." "Master, are you reading our messages? I know you are." "I can't believe master is ignoring us." Several crying emoji are sent in quick succession.

Solomon and Barbatos, who witness the brothers doing this on occasion. Solomon turns to the latter and says, "You never call me your master. Want to give it a try?"

Barbatos looks at him with barely repressed revulsion. "I only have one master, and that is the Young Master. If you ever make such a joke again I will have you tried in court for lese-majeste."

[iarchmybaculaa]

Pairing: Ex! Jungkook x reader

Warnings: Jungkook is subjectively a little toxic, Mentions of an ongoing divorce, possessive! Jungkook, Girl Dad! Jungkook, unprotected sex (don't do that irl), oral sex (f receiving), Slight brat reader, Jeon Jungkook is a menace, reader is implied to be black

Word count: 5.2 k (I think)

🎧: Woo- Rihanna

For: @hobicakess and Paige💗

Jungkook is good at a lot of things

Hes a fantastic singer. He dances very well (even if he likes to fein shyness at parties). Jungkook can cook, he can multitask seamlessly and (almost) effortlessly, and he can put Jinhae to sleep in a matter of minutes… It would be much easier to list the things that Jungkook isn't good at.

Jungkook isn't very good at sharing.

He doesn't like sharing food, clothes or people.

You think it may be his biggest if not only flaw.

Jungkook considers the people in his life his. He doesn't expect them to have the same importance in someone else's life, as they do in his. And he doesn't expect them to think of other people the way they do of him, either.

You don't know if it's because he fears that he'll be replaced, or because he was raised as an only child. But whatever it was, Jungkook let it consume him. Holistically.

You remember how he had reacted when Yoongi- his mentor,had taken on a new intern. Jungkook and Yoongi had attended the same highschool within a few years of each other; and had met again when Yoongi was a TA at SNU. Yoongi had taken Jungkook under his wing, as less of a student, and more like a little brother; and their bond lasted way beyond college. Yoongi was so proud of Jungkook that he was practically All he spoke about. Jungkook had gotten used to things being that way.

Then one day, all of a sudden, Yoongi was no longer “Jungkook, Jungkook, Jungkook”; he was all “Jimin, Jimin, Jimin” much to the Younger's chagrin.

To his credit, Jungkook was nothing but nice to Jimin during the time he worked for Yoongi. He bought him coffee once in a while and even invited him out for drinks whenever the opportunity arose. Jimin was cool. Jungkook would even go as far as to say that Jimin was his friend. Jungkook barely knew the guy! He had nothing against him.

It was Yoongi he was pissed at.

Yoongi was the one who owed Jungkook his loyalty. Yoongi was the one who had nursed Jungkook through his first hangover, and held him when he cried about failing a class. Yoongi was there when Jungkook got his first, off campus apartment. Yoongi was Jungkook 's Yoongi.

At first, Yoongi didn't understand it. It made no sense that Jungkook seemed so fond of Jimin, yet he soured whenever the latter's name was mentioned. It gave him whiplash. It went on for a solid month and a half of Jungkook's scowls and petulant pouts for Yoongi to finally realize that something was deeply wrong, and that he needed to get to the bottom of it.

It took 2 bottles of soju and 3 glasses of whiskey for Jungkook to crack. His reasoning was so funny that Yoongi almost didn't feel bad for laughing at him. All it took to pacify Jungkook was for Yoongi to give him a hug, followed by a quick

“you'll always be hyung's favourite, Kook-ah.” as he ruffled his hair.

Jungkook was only 22 when that had happened. And he'd like to believe he's grown a lot since then.

He's advanced enough in his career that he's not Mr. Bang's payroll anymore, but rather pays him. Jungkook has grown in a literal sense too, having had a growth spurt one random day after he turned 23 (there was no containing him once he realized that he was 6 feet tall) .

Jungkook has (helped) create life; your daughter Jinhae. It's the thing he's proudest of, second only to marrying you.

But Jungkook is only human.

So it's only natural that he feels an itch rise on the back of his neck everytime he picks Jinhae up from your apartment, and all she can talk about is your new boyfriend.

He got so…irritated the more Jinhae babbled on about “Woo- Woo” that he felt a little silly. But who could blame him? He would be holding Jinhae 's hand as they walked through the park for their daddy daughter time, and every other sentence would be about this ‘’Woo Woo”.

Seokjin had once joked that she had switched from being 'Daddy's girl' to 'Woo-Woo’s girl' , and Jungkook 's body took a screenshot. He shot Jin a look so vile, that the older stayed quiet for the rest of the day.

Jungkook really had tried to ignore it as best as possible. And he (thought) he was doing fairly well until that evening, when Jinhae had let it slip that:

‘’Mama kissed Woo-Woo today.”

He had just picked her up from her taekwondo class, and was about to pull out of the parking lot when Jinhae gave him the oh so lovely news.

Jungkook isn't a monster, he thinks he's let this little charade go on for much longer than was respectable. He wasn't going to let that slide.

He took a sharp left and sped down the highway. If he wasn't so caught up in his head, he would've heard Jinhae 's excited scream of:

“YAY! we're going to Uncle Yoonie's house’

You had just finished taking a long, warm bath. Your feet had been aching, and your back felt worse than it did before you had gotten your epidural. You needed a break; desperately.

The silence in the apartment was a welcome change.

You loved Jinhae with all your heart, but children were tiring to deal with alone. Children could be incredibly difficult, just for the fun of it. Especially spoilt, almost-five year olds who are used to their daddy obeying their every beck and call.

God forbid you didn't do “ the voice” right, after reading “The little Prince” five times in a row! suddenly you were public enemy number one.

At least you could bask in the fact that Jinhae never threw (noisy) tantrums or threw things, but you felt that she had quadruple the attitude your hus- ex, accused you of having.

But tonight, the only attitude you have to worry about dealing with, was from Kim when you researched the earliest seasons of Keeping up with the Kardashians. What can you say? There's truly nothing funnier to you than upper class white women trying to be relatable. To this dat, their target audience was a mystery to you. You can't think of a single person whose biggest problem was how many times their name got googled in a day. You find it hard to take anything they ‘’go through' seriously, because if we're being honest, people really are dying Kim!

You walk out of the bathroom wrapped in a soft white robe.

You reach for the the lilac, silk pajama set laid out on your bed. You had bought it from an online lingerie store, after a few glasses of wine a few weeks ago. You had been so…bored that you did the most exciting thing your numb brain could come up with in that moment.

You scoff at your past self. It was more cute than anything, not nearly as scandalous as some of the items you have hidden in the back of your closest. But you're not complaining.

The shorts are a bit shorter than you expected, but the silk is soft a high quality, and the lace that lines the top isn't itchy at all. You untwist your bun, and your braids cascade down your shoulders. You grab the bottle of black castor oil from your dresser, and run the nozzle along the parts. You sigh as you reach up to massage your scalp.

It's in little moments like these that you miss Jungkook the most. You hate to admit, but you used to be just as spoilt as Jinhae. Jungkook used to pamper you in every way possible. He would oil your scalp for you, order your hair products months in advance so that you'd never run out, and give you massages whenever your shoulders stood too rigid.

But you didn't have Jungkook anymore. You suck your teeth in annoyance at yourself for thinking about him so much.

You had just finished applying your vitamin c serum to your face, when you heard an incessant pounding on your door. You pause your music just as Kali Uchis asks if she can get a kiss. You're confused as to why someone is knocking on your door, when you have a very obvious doorbell attached to the frame. It's even stranger given what time it is.

You slip your feet into your cow print night slippers, as you step off the plush rug that lay on the floor in front of your vanity; and unto the floor.

The slippers slap against the floor as you walk towards the living room, and to whoever the hell wouldn't stop pounding on your door at 9pm on a Friday.

You throw the door open, ready to demand an explanation when you stop dead in your tracks.

To say you're surprised at who is standing at your door would be an understatement. You're not sure who you were expecting to see, but it certainly wasn't Jungkook. You're even more surprised to see him without Jinhae in tow.

You don't think that you've been alone with Jungkook for more than a few minutes at a time since the divorce; and even so, Jinhae has always been just a few feet away.

You feel worry start to settle in your stomach.

“Where's JJ? Is she okay?” You ask, praying that what came out of his mouth next isn't bad news.

He chuckes. It's a sound that comes from deep inside his chest and reverberates across the empty hallway. It's an empty laugh, with no humour behind it. It makes a chill run up and down your spine.

“Jinie is fine. She's with Yoongi; and she's the last of your worries right now” he says.

For once, Jungkook hasn't cracked a single smile the entire time he's been in your presence. It's obvious that he's mad, but you're not sure at what. You're not sure that you vare.

He isn't wearing a suit right now, and you can't recall the last time you'd seen him in anything but.

Jungkook worked extraordinarily long hours. You knew that working late and being burnt out would be a part of his life, especially the more his business grew, but it hadn't phased you at the time. There was nothing to be phased about.

At the time, Jungkook always put you first. And when Jinhae was born, he did the same thing. There was never a time where he had left you to fend for yourself with a newborn. He had been there through it all. From colic, to 3 am feedings to explosive diaper changes. He had never let you feel alone as a parent, or in your marriage.

Until around 8 months ago that is.

8 months ago, you feel like Jungkook had just stopped trying.

You know for a fact that Jungkook is terrified of being poor. It's why he always has another merger to make with one of his three companies, and dips his toes into every industry imaginable. His influence spanned over tech, real estate and even clothing. You think Jungkook's fear is understandable, you don't think it's fair. It was teetering on the edge of paranoia and greed.

He was trying so bad to make sure that he could take care of his family, that he wasnt.

He would get home from work after Jinhae went to bed, and left before she got ready for school. You had spent one too many nights falling asleep on the couch waiting for him to come home; only to wake up in your bed the next morning with a handwritten note on your bathroom mirror. They were sweet and all..but not much more.

As much as you appreciated the affirmations, his words meant nothing when there was no action behind them. Promises to come home home early the, family outings that never happened… You felt like you were a kid whose love was expected to be bought with money, and placated with empty commitments all over again. You could count on a bouquet of roses being delivered at your door every morning, more than you could count on your own husband being there.

You hated it.

You were starting to hate him.

It had gotten to a point where Jungkook had just given his secretary reign over his personal phone. You almost lost your mind when you had called him to ask what he wanted for dinner once, and she answered and told you that he was busy.

You could hear Jungkook 's laughter in the background, and the noise was not a professional setting. In fact, it sounded a lot more intimate and cozy. Like a restaurant or small bar. You felt sick to your stomach. You couldn't even get the chance to talk to Jungkook about it, because you barely saw him.

The look on his face when you served him the divorce papers in person at his office was borderline comical. His eyes had widened so far out of their sockets, that you thought the expression was causing him physical pain. You had said nothing. You simply handed him the papers and stayed long enough for him to read the heading. He clearly wanted to communicate through words on paper, so who were you to not oblige him with some?

As far as you know, Jungkook had never signed the papers, but he did follow all the other conditions you had outlined in your petition for separation.

He got an apartment for you and Jinhae in a building he didn't own, and was never late for any pickups or dropoffs, save for once when he had the flu.

A part of you had forgotten how young Jungkook was.

The suits he wore aged him plenty. Not in an old, haggard way, but in a way that made him appear more refined and serious than he actually was. His hair was always cut short and clicked away from his face. The collars of his shirts were always ironed to sharpness. Hell, he even wore sensible shoes.

If you hadn't seen every inch of Jungkook 's body before, and gone to college with him…You would have pegged him for an uptight dogooder. You're sure it helped him get taken seriously in the corporate world, but overtime, it was as if Jungkook had forgotten his roots. As if he had morphed into a no nonsense, mormon-esque version of himself.

But the Jungkook standing before you now, is the Jungkook you know and lov- respected. Jungkook who proudly wore his colorful sleeve of tattoos,silver hoops through his lips and a stud in his nose. The Jungkook who liked to wear cargo pants and oversized shirts with stomper boots he could barely walk straight in.

You knew he had showered before he had come over, because his hair was still curly. He hadn't blow-dried it. His hair is much longer than it was when you had last saw him. It fell past his eyes now. He had started growing it out sgain because Jinhae told him she wanted to. At least, that's what he had told you.

What had really happened was that Jinhae had been asking a lot of questions about “ when appa wasn't so old” one Saturday when they had gone out for ice cream.

“Appa, Mommy says your hair used to be w-eally long and pwetty. Can it come back? Mommy misses it.”

Jungkook hadn't cut his hair again since.

“Aren't you going to invite me in?” He asks, one eyebrow raised at you.

You fold your arms across your chest.

“I'm not sure why I should. Besides, I don't think that this is a good time.”

“Oh? Why's that? You lip expecting someone else,princess?’ He takes in your attire from head to toe. His eyes linger for a little too long in your chest. His voice goes deeper as he struggles to finish his last question.

You don't answer, and it makes his eye twitch.

It's so ridiculous, yet so on brand of him to create a hypothetical scenario in his head and get all eaten up about it. He takes a deep breath.

He doesn't want to blow his fuse. Not here, Not yet.

“ I need to talk to you. Inside. Please.” He asks, but it's not really a request.

You roll your eyes and turn your back to him as you walk away.

He pulls his bottom lip between his teeth as he watches your ass jiggle in the tiny shorts. He enters behind you, and the door closes softly with a click.

You walk over to the fridge and grab the unfinished can of Arizona Iced tea, and a glass from the cupboard. You were looking forward to having a glass of wine tonight, but if you were going to talk to Jungkook… you needed to be stone cold sober.

“You want anything?” You ask, as you pour the content into the glass. “ I think I have some b-”

“What I want is answers.” He says simply, leaning in the arched entryway.

You look at him with confusion written all over your face, before your pettiness takes over.

“ Oh yeah? Well I wanted signed divorce papers, and yet here we are.”

You take a swig from your cup and let the sweetness of the drink coat your tongue.

You see Jungkook release a breath so deep that his entire body shakes.

“ Who are you kissing in front of my kid?”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” he says with his arms crossed against his chest. “Who are you kissing in front of my kid?”

You're getting irritated now, because for one, what the hell is he talking about, and two…Who was Jungkook to talk to you like that?

“Jungkook. First of all, she's our kid. And secondly, I have no idea what the hell you're talking about. And even if I did… I wouldn't tell you jack shit. What or who I do is none of your business.”

Jungkook pushes himself off the threshold and starts walking towards you. His steps are slow and strong. His strides are long,and he has your back pressed into the counter in a matter of seconds.

You haven't been so close to Jungkook in so long, that everything about him overwhelms you in the best way possible. He smells so, so good. He smells like sandalwood and warm vanilla. He smells like home. His proximity to you is dizzying, and you can only pray that you'll keep it together.

He puts his arm on one side of you, leaving your left completely open. If you wanted to get away from him, you could. You stayed in place. It tells him everything he needs to know.

“Have you completely lost your fucking mind Y/N?” He questions. He reaches for your left hand and your heart sinks down to your ass. The diamond of your wedding ring glitters under the lights hanging from the the ceiling. The princess cut stone is practically mocking you.

“What do you think I gave you this ring for huh? Fun? Fucking decoration?” He jests, “You know, for someone who never shuts her big mouth up about divorce, you sure keep this on don't you baby?”

You don't deny it. There's no point in doing so. You know that if you do, he'll lift the ring upwards. And you know that when he does, he'll find the unmistakable circle of a tan line wrapping around your ring finger.

He strokes his thumb against your cheek, and you almost preen at his touch. “Who's ‘Woo- Woo’ baby?”

“None of your business.” You bite out.

“When are you gonna get it through your thick skull, that you are my business?!”

He runs his hand through his long hair, and you can see his face so much better. He's as beautiful as you remember and he's right in front of you.

You don't know who leaned in first, but you do know how soft lips feel as they press against yours. You fell the metal of his lip piercings touch the roof of your mouth as you suck his lip into you mouth.

He puts his hand under your ass, and your legs wrap around him on instinct. He lifts you and bring you over to the cool marble of the kitchen island.

His hand tugs on the hem of your blouse, and you pull away from him.

“Kook, we can't.” You whine as you pull away.

Jungkook uses his thumb to wipe some of the spit from the corner of your mouth, and fixes your shirt so your boob is no longer at risk of spilling out.

“Okay baby, we'll stop and we can talk over dinner. Do you want me to make something or do you want to get takeout?” He asked as he pulls away from you.

He doesn't get very far, because you wrap your legs around him, and pull you back to him.

“Wait- I didn't really mean that.” You whisper. Jungkook has a sneaking suspicion that you weren't just talking about telling him no.

“You want me baby?”

You nod your head yes, too embarrassed to open your mouth lest your voice shake.

He cradles your face, and tilts it upwards so you have no choice but to look him in the eyes.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.” You answer affirmatively, reaching forwards to capture his lips again.

Youre not even thinking about the Pandora's box that you might be opening; and quite frankly? You don't care.

You're acutely aware that you wont be able to blame your decision on being drunk or tipsy. The only thing driving you was a burning need to have Jungkook deep inside you (where he belonged).

He litters kisses along your neck as he slides his hand down your shorts. Your hips buck forward on instinct, and you shudder as you feel his fingers ghost your clit.

“Why are you naked under here?” He growls out. grip tightening around you waist. “I'm starting to think that you were expecting someone tonight.” he muses.

He spreads your folds with two fingers, reveling in the way your arousal leaks out of you and unto his fingers.

“ Is that why you're so eager, baby? Hm? Is that why you're so wet? You decided that you were gonna get fucked one way or another? Is that it?”

He asks each question as he thrusts his fingers in and out of you. It shallow. He doesn't allow you the pleasure of going further than his first knuckle. You try to grind down on his digits, but he holds your hips down with his free hand.

“Whoever you've been giving my pussy away to, hasn't been doing a very good job... have they?” He groans as you clench around him.

“Jungkook please. I want-”

“Shh baby, I know. I'll give it to you I promise. Just give me one first” he begs as he speeds up his circles on your clit.

He sinks his teeth into the sensitive spot on your neck, and you cum almost instantly. Your body shakes and you wrap your arms around his neck as your pussy convulses around his fingers.

You barely have time to recover before he's pulling your shorts down, and cleaning up the mess you made. He catches the slick of you orgasm on your tongue just as it starts running down your leg.

He goes at your pussy like a man starved. You cry out the moment his tongue enters you. You ride his tongue with vigor, gripping unto the counter for stability.

Jungkook pulls away from you for moment. His mouth is shiny from your juices, and his eyes are already so blown out that you want to fuck him even more.

He guides your hand to his hair, and encourages you to grab the tendrils.

“Use me, baby” he instructs.

His voice is so gravelly and raw, that you can do nothing but oblige him.

You grip the roots of his hair and push his head back between your legs. You both moan when he starts lapping at you again. You hold his head in place, guiding him where you want him; where you need him.

The second time you cum, your legs closed so tight around his head that Jungkook thought he had died and went straight to heaven.

You pull him away from your core by his hair, and bring him up to your face. You clean his face with your own tongue, and lean in to kiss him so you both taste like you. Your chests are still heaving when Jungkook carries you to your room.

He lays you gently on the bed, and takes his shirt off at the same time you toss your blouse over your head. He's about to undo the strings of his sweatpants when he stops cold in his tracks..

“ Shit, baby…I don't have any condoms. I didn't plan on this-”

“ It's okay,” You reassure him “ I'm clean. Are you?”

Jungkook looks a little scandalized. “Of course I'm clean, I haven't - I havent been with anyone except you since before we started dating.” His honesty shines so brightly in his eyes that you almost want to pull him into a hug.

You release a shaky, nervous breath you didn't know you had been holding.

“ Good. I want to feel you, all of you.”

The bed sinks as Jungkook climbs over you, one leg on each side of your body.

You've missed this view. Him on top of you, chain swining in your face, and big doe eyes filled with lust for you and only you.

He takes a hairtye from around his wrists, and pulls his hair into a low manbun. His cock is already painfully hard, red and leaking from the tip.

You spread your legs as Jungkook nestkes in-between them. He lifts one of your legs over his shoulder, and presses a soft kiss to your calf.

He rubs himself between your folds, mesmerized by how quickly your wetness coats him.

He lines himself up with your entrance, and pauses.

“Are you sure you're ready baby? I don't want to hurt you.”

“ Is that it? Or are you scared that you don't hold a candle to ‘Woo-Woo’ my” you jest. Jungkook doesn't find it very funny.

He pushes himself into you, but as wet as you are, you're still so, so tight. Your pussy is so warm…hot even, that Jungkook almost cums the moment yes fully sheathed in you.

You're just as tight as he remembers, tighter even.

You both moan when he delivers his first thrust. You haven't had dick in so long,that you'd forgot what it felt like. How it felt like to have your walls stretched and your g spot caressed, how delicious and heavy the drag was inside you. How good Jungkook was at this. You feel so good that Jungkook practically forgets that he's supposed to be mad at you.

“You know you belong to me right?” Jungkook demands as he thrusts into you, slow and forceful. You don't answer and turn your face away from him He wraps his hand around your throat as speed up.

“Fucking look at me when I'm talking to you!”

His thrusts become faster, punishing. He practically ploughs you into the mattress as whatever restraint he had before vanishes into thin air. You scream the more intense the pleasure gets.

“ I should fuck another baby into you, you know that? Hm? Should swell your tummy up with another one of my kids, so you have nine months to think about why the fuck you would do something as stupid as try to leave me.”

He finds your gspot as effortlessly as he usually does, and he hits it over and over and over again.

“Jungkook PLEASE” you cry. You reach your hand out to push against the hardness of his abdomen. He takes your hand and kisses it. You're so close. So fucking close, and Jungkook can tell.

“You want to cum, don't you baby?”

You nod frantically. Your pussy is practically raw from overstimulation, and you feel so much pressure building inside you that you don't know whether you want to run away from the pleasure or dive headfirst into it.

“Yes! Yes! Yes! I need to please.”

“Then tell me. Fucking tell me you're mine”

“Fuck, I'm yours, Jungkook! Please!” you cry.

“ How many people have you fucked since you left? Answer me!” He commands you, adding a finger to your clit to the mix.

“Nobody, no one, Jungkook Please!”

“ I know baby, I just needed you to admit it.”

He leans down and places a soft kiss to your temple. He gives you two more delicious thrusts that make your toes curl and your eyes roll back. Your lurches forward as your orgasm rips through you. Your walls convulse around him, squeezing him so tight that Jungkook feels a bit dizzy.

“Baby,” he whines “unwrap your legs so I can pull out.” He gasps when your legs only wrap tighter around him. “Baby, I have to-”

“N-no,” you protest “ I want it inside Jungkook please.”

He cums so forcefully that his orgasm leaves him winded and his arms almost give out. He spils his seed into you, and you feel the warmth of it coat your walls.

He pulls out of you as he begins to soften, and collapse beside you as he tries to catch his breath. You both turn to look at each other, and Jungkook offers you a soft smile.

He notices the sweat starting to bead on your forehead, and turns his head to switch your fan on.

That's when you see it. Your eyes bug out of their sockets.

“Jungkook, what the hell is that on your neck?”

“ What are you talking about?”

“Right there,” you turn his head to the right to get a better look. Your heart starts thumming uncontrollably in your chest. Because there it was, your name in bold black letters for everyone to see.

“Jungkook…When did you get that?”

“Hm…about five months ago?” he chuckles. He had the decency to look sheepish.

“Jungkook!” You say as you slap his chest “ We weren't even together!”

“ Correction, we are together, we just have separate living arrangements.”

You look at him incredulously.

“You're crazy, you know that?’

“About you? Yeah..Real crazy baby” he flirts “Hey, you never told me woo this ‘Woo-Woo’ guy is anyways .”

You roll you eyes at him as you climb of the bed.

“I can't tell you who he's not. He's not the one whose cum is dripping out of me right now. Are you gonna join me on the shower or what?”

Fin.

[boyfhee]

﹙𝓲ssue﹚: calling them “pretty boy” ... ( 엔하이픈 )

ㅤㅤ﹙2214﹚ ㅤ장르 fluff, fluff, fluff est. relㅤㅤwarnings kissing, pet names, mentions of make out in hoon'sㅤㅤᐢᗜᐢ i think i will go back to my roots and write long hcs >< happy reading and pls rb & leave feedback iNDEX

HEESEUNG

you two were having a movie night, his eyes not leaving the tv screen even for one second, not until you notice that the packet of chips on your lap is empty and the other one is on his side. “hee, can you pass those chips, please?”

your voice manages to distract him from the movie and he gives you a blank stare for a brief second before registering your words and passing you the snack. “thanks, pretty boy.”

and those words catch his attention— brows knit together as he turns his head towards you, eyes wide open in amusement. “what did you call me?”

“i called you a pretty boy,” you stifle a laugh at his reaction, noticing how his cheeks turned a shade of pink as words fell of your lips. “cause you're so so pretty,”

he laughs at your words, although with a hint of shyness and averts his gaze to the screen. his cheeks only heat up more when he hears your soft giggles, something that is music to his ears. he turns to look at you again, putting an arm on your back to pull your closer. “you're the prettiest, angel.”

JONGSEONG

you were going through the pictures from your date earlier today, while jay laid on the bed with his head on your laps, sighing softly at the calming action of your fingers brushing through his soft locks.

“you're so pretty, 'seong,” you whisper softly, quite literally enamored by how effortlessly stunning he looks in the pictures. “not a single bad pic,”

he doesn't respond for a few seconds, a bit taken aback by your words before he ends up laughing, making you put your phone aside while he lifts up his face from your lap to look up at you. “are you sure ‘handsome’ isn't the word you were going for?”

“that too, but you're my pretty boy,” you say with a chuckle, leaning down to brush your nose against his, a touch so feathery it makes him smile and lean in for a kiss, but you are quick to put your forehead against his instead. “the prettiest boy.”

and he shakes his head at your words, unable to stop himself from smiling. he props himself up on his arms and then sits up in front of you, cupping your face to pull you in for a kiss. “sounds fair, since you're the prettiest girl ever, darling.”

JAEYUN

“hey, pretty boy,” you chime in with a smile, deciding to swing by his classes because you haven't seen him since the morning and the withdrawal is hitting both of you.

first, he gets excited after hearing your voice, having missed it even though it has only been a few hours since you two have gotten off the phone. and secondly, his eyes literally spark up at the sight of you, even more so when he hears your words. “pretty boy?”

you nod, pressing your lips together and lean against the doorframe. “yeah, do you not like it?”

“oh, i love it, babe” he tells you, putting emphasis on the word ‘love’ as he walks towards you, putting his arms around you to pull your closer. he leans in for a few quick peaks, whispering in between. “you should call me that more,”

you laugh at his words with a nod and make a mental note of that, playing with the loose strands of hair in front of his forehead. “i will, pretty boy.” — you best believe he's kissing you every time you call him that.

SUNGHOON

you simply stand against the wall, arms behind your back as you watch him put on his shoes, a soft smile dancing on your lips. “see you tomorrow, pretty boy.”

“oh, hell nah,” and he closes the door just as soon as he had opened it, turning to look at your with a cautious expression. “you cannot just say that so casually,”

you stare at him in surprise for a few seconds before laughing, pushing yourself off the wall to stand up straight. “say what? pretty boy?”

“see, you're making me go crazy,” he sighs, watching you laugh at his antics and a smile creeps up his lips as well, but he hides it well, taking a few steps in your direction and lifting you up in his arms, walking to the couch. “now we have to make out again!”

“hoon, put me down!” you yelp in surprise, although the laughter erupting in the room made everything much better. he does put you down, on the couch in fact, laying you down on the soft material with his lips hovering over yours. he doesn't give you the chance to complain, immediately pulling you into a chaste kiss.

SUNOO

he came over to pick you up for your date but heavens had another plan since it started showering right before you were planning to leave. the plan was to watch a movie, until sunoo said he wants to paint your nails.

and now you're sitting in front of him on the bed, your one hand in his and eyes on him, while his attention is on your fingers, putting the nail paint ever so care, not wanting to ruin it for you. “you're so pretty, 'noo,”

he looks up at you in surprise before his lips curl into a smile, a slight hint of red on his cheeks that he manages to hide by looking back at your hands. “i don't know what you mean. you're the prettiest,”

“no, you are pretty,” you say a bit dramatically, with a pout and all, making him scoff slightly.

he finishes up with your nails shortly, putting the nail paint away, almost melting at how adorable you look with that pout. he leans in closer, planting a tender kiss at the corner of your lips. “well, i have to keep up with my pretty girl,”

JUNGWOON

“good morning, pretty boy” you whisper softly over the silence as soon as he opens his eyes, sunrays entering through the window and adorning his face, making him look prettier than ever.

“good morning, beautiful,” jungwon takes a few seconds to push away the sleepiness, although not really succeeding as a yawn interrupts his words. “what's gotten into you?”

“nothing, i just want to call you pretty,” you brush a few strands of hair from in front of his eyes, the smile never leaving your lips and you find bliss in the quiet mornings with your boyfriend.

“that's new,” his voice is not louder than a whisper, laced with drowsiness as he throws his arms over your waist to pull you closer and nuzzles his face in the crook of your neck. “but i like it,”

you can't help but smile at his actions, leaning down to kiss his forehead and brushing your fingers through his hair. it's quiet for a few minutes before you feel him lift up his head and speaks through a sweet grin. “call you call me that again?” — and why would you refuse?

NI-KI

you were on call with your boyfriend after the movie date, not really wanting to hang up but knowing it was late. you lean further into your pillow, speaking with slight disappointment in your voice. “‘night, pretty boy. i love you,”

“wait,” and you were just about to hang up before he stops you. “what do you mean ‘pretty boy?’”

you chortle at his words, clearly visualising him with that confused expression, brows furrowed. “i mean you, because you're a pretty boy,”

“i am?” you laugh again at his words, more when he laughs as well, finding him absolutely adorable especially when you can feeling him blushing in just the way he sounds. “say that again,”

“you're my pretty boy,” you repeat and he hums in approval, trying to be cool as he chuckles, but you know he's probably laying on the bed and smiling while looking at the ceiling with the cutest smile— or maybe not.

“good, now say it to my face,”

now it's your time to look at the phone screen in confusion, staring at his caller ID. “what?”

“i'm outside, open the door and call me pretty”

taglist

[buckets-and-trees]

EVERY MINUTE OF IT

Characters/Pairings: Alpha!Bucky x Female!Omega!Reader Word Count: 4k Summary: Claimed unequivocally by Alpha Bucky Barnes, leader of the growing HYDRA faction, that's not the end of it. But what exactly is in store for you? What will it mean to be his Omega?

Content/Warnings: omegaverse; reluctant attraction; power dynamics; mild manipulation; threats; dirty talk; explicit smut: spanking, vaginal fingering, biting, rough sex, choking, edging, orgasm denial, slapping, spitting, oral (male and female receiving), unprotected vaginal intercourse and insemination, dacryphilia, overstimulation, erotic picture taking

Author Notes: Part three to what I never planned on being a series - the Alpha Bucky April drabble was only 500 words, the next part hit 1.5k, but this... well, let's just say this Bucky absolutely had his way with both me and my muse. This one will be a make up to tick orgasm delay/denail for MARCH of @buckybarnesevents Build a Bucky Bingo ; and the dialogue, alpha, and pet prompts for the second week of Hot Bucky Summer (thought this was going to be a short little thing I was going to whip out before week two had finished, but alas hahaha).

A/N 2: We've seen only a bit of his rough side up to this pont, but in this part we will truly see mean Alpha Bucky. Don't say I didn't warn you - here and with the actual content warning list.

A/N 3: I tried not to write any plot with this porn, but a minimal amount forced its way in.

He had made good on his threat, using your body for pleasure and for show under the full moon until there was no one left to watch, but you were not sure he had been keeping close track, instead merely taking you over and over until they grey hours of dawn. You had been too exhausted to register anything much after that – being carried away, a car ride, being tucked into a bed.

You had woken up alone in the afternoon alone.

Alone for the first time in three days.

On hearing you make your way to the bathroom someone had brought in water and left an impressive spread of food that lasted you through the afternoon and evening. You grazed and slept.

Your body and mind had been pushed beyond all previous limits, and so the sleep and rest had been most of those first few days after the full moon and the conqueror’s bonding ritual.

But now, a week on, you are tired, restless, and impatient.

You were in a spacious penthouse, you had been offered many luxuries, well fed by a personal chef, attended to by an assistant, your only restrictions being denied access to a phone or internet and barred from leaving the premises.

Should you have chosen an unplugged retreat or vacation, it would be perfect.

After contemplating and debating internally all morning, at lunch you make your decision. You finish yet another delicious meal, wipe your mouth with the beautiful linen napkin, and then set it down next to the bone china and plated gold utensils. The staff begins to move around you, and your assistant approaches.

Before she can say anything else, you take a deep breath and say, “I need to see him.”

There’s no question of who you mean.

She nods. “I’ll make the request.”

Whether pet or prisoner and left alone for more than seven days, you do not believe your request will be seen as any sort of priority, so when you see the more formal dining table set for two for dinner, your mouth drops open for a moment, and you stop in your tracks.

You turn to your assistant – even though she tries to afford you most of your privacy, she is ever on the edge of your presence. She looks as surprised as you. “I was given no response other than that they’d take the request under consideration.”

You nod, then pace, padding barefoot across the hardwood floor in front of floor-to-ceiling windows, until you finally hear the rustle and then commotion of activity that announces his arrival.

Your heart races, but it’s only a few more moments before the large and imposing alpha, Bucky Barnes, appears in front of you.

“Omega,” he says with a mere nod of his head, no pretense.

Your eyes narrow a fraction, wary of his seemingly easy demeanor. “Alpha.”

“Shall we?” he asks, and motions to the table.

You nod and take a seat as he does.

Within seconds, the meal is brought in by two attendants and the chef, and Bucky thanks and praises them very simply.

He occasionally looks at you, regarding you, but does not speak.

Before long, you huff, and he looks up sharply, pinning you with his steel blue eyes, harsher than at any point since he’d arrived. “What?” he demands.

“What is all of this?” you start, gesturing your hand to indicate the penthouse. “And where have you been?”

He sets down his knife and fork and straightens a little more. “Is it not to suited to your liking? You can change anything you want. This is your place.”

“My place?” you ask.

“Yes, your place. It is not far from the place I’ve taken up residence.”

The revelation is not surprising, but somehow more irritating. “And what? You’ve had me and now you’re discarding me?”

“I should have thought you’d want your own place.”

Maybe you should want your own place, away from him. And yet…

“I should be wherever you are.”

“What?” he scoffs. “So you can be embroiled in my affairs and bring me down? ‘Keep your friends close and your enemies closer?’”

The accusation wounds you, though you know it’s only logical – and you know what you’re thinking and feeling isn’t logical. You have determined to put off thinking about it.

“I’m not your friend,” you state, trying to keep your voice as even as possible. “but I’m not your enemy either.”

“What should I call you then?” he challenges.

You raise your chin a fraction. “I’m your Omega.”

He doesn’t speak or move immediately. Instead, his eyes somehow fix you even more intently. There’s a burning in your chest under his scrutiny, but you remain still.

Finally, he stands and moves toward you, the two of you never taking your eyes off the other.

“You are my Omega.”

He comes to stand behind your chair, and you remain unmoving. He takes your chin in his left hand and tilts your head to expose your neck to him. He leans down and noses along your jaw, inhaling your scent and putting your body on alert. You feel the curling tendrils of want stir in your core, already awakening for him. He tilts your head even more and draws his teeth along the side of your throat, causing a shiver you can’t suppress, and he chuckles darkly and licks at the fresher of the two bonding marks he gave you. His hot tongue, insistently pressing at the bite elicits a small noise from you, and your right hand shoots up to card into his hair. Your full omega side wants him, has started to slicken your pussy for him already, you can feel it. You know your alpha can smell it.

He bites over the mark, but not roughly enough to break the skin, and you arch up for more, but he pushes himself back up, away from you and the crook of your neck.

“So needy,” he remarks, “I like this.”

The first few days you’d spent with him, he’d kept you full of his cock, tortured with pleasure, overwhelmed, exhausted by him and the recipient of a seemingly insatiable lust unleashed on you.

This feels like the predator is going to play with his prey, and you bite your lip. He pushes your head, tilted to the left, to the right to drop into his other hand, clearly testing your compliance. It’s gentle, but it’s dominant. Back to the left, then to the right, and then he dips to nip at your ear, and you gasp.

Bucky releases your head from between his large hands then pulls your chair away from the table. “Up.”

You stand. He puts one hand on your hip and ushers you around the edge of the table and to the side, in the middle, and turns you to face the wide expanse of mahogany and its centerpiece of fresh flowers – white peonies, white roses, white hydrangeas.

“Put your hands on the table,” he instructs.

You press the palms of your hands onto the smooth, dark wood. Your omega side is ready – even eager – to comply, but with your own long game to play, you know you must play out whatever game he desires now.

“Arch your back,” is his next direction.

Keeping your breathing even, you do, hips jutting away from the table, on display for him.

The back of his hand lands at the nape of your neck, and he drags his knuckles slowly down your spine. Your body rocks back, seeking more, as he reaches the small of your back, and he hums in self-satisfaction.

While his vibranium hand plants itself on your hip, he moves the other around to skim slowly over your stomach, then up your rib cage, and to your breast. He gropes the round flesh through your shirt and bra, but the fabric does nothing to quell how the pressure stokes the fire growing in you.

You feel the heat of him press up your back as his hand moves now up your neck, turning your head to kiss him. You push back against him, and he ruts his bulge slightly into your ass. Your lips are hungry in the kiss, but it’s like he only provided his lips for you to kiss him, receiving what your lips want to give. He moves his hand back down to your chest, but this time slipping beneath the neckline and going flesh to flesh to palm your breast. He kneads diligently, almost methodically, and you know all of this is designed to warm you up, tease you, get you burning for him. He’s still largely a stranger to you, but you also know you can’t resist him. He’s spent so much time already playing with your body. He knows where and how to touch you to make you respond to him after those first days and nights spent naked with him.

Bucky moves again, ending the kiss, drawing away from your back and removing the hand from your breast. You whine, but that hand goes to the small of your back again, the vibranium hand squeezing your hip as he forces you spine to resume the curving posture for him once more.

“We’re only getting started, Omega. Be patient.”

You huff, and he laughs.

The fingers of both his hands slip into the top of your waistband. He slowly pulls your pants and underwear down over your hips, and down your legs to mid-thigh. It restricts your bottom extremities, and that plays into the mental game he’s clearly playing with you. His hands move up the back of your naked thighs, and then palms your ass with both hands. He squeezes both cheeks, goes back to palming them again, then withdraws his right hand and slaps that cheek harshly. You jump and yelp, but he merely goes back to palming and squeezing, soothing the smacked flesh. Then another slap, and you hiss at the sting over the first sting. His vibranium hand continues groping your round flesh, but instead of soothing the second smack, his flesh hand dips down to your dripping hole, where he inserts two fingers, then quickly adds a third.

“Alpha,” you moan, and your head falls back, eyes closed both to hold back a couple of tears and to soak in the barrage of sensations.

He doesn’t answer, but his fingers continue dipping in and out, slow and shallow.

He delivers another harsh slap, immediately returns to the maddening fingering until you’re keening and trying to hump his hand.

Abruptly he grips your hips with both hands and turns you around to face him. The cool metal hand grips you by the neck, tilting your face up helplessly to him, and this kiss is messy, demanding, teeth nipping at your lips. You kiss him back as well as you can as he is in full control of your head and holds you where he wants you. Both your hands hold tightly to his forearm, and you squeeze.

His other hand goes to the cut of you again below, but there’s more fervor there this time. He plunders your mouth and plunders your pussy, and you’re losing your breath, but you have no wish for him to relent as you feel the powerful orgasm you crave building and barreling towards you. His fingers curl against the spongy spot on your inner wall, this thumb is demanding against your pulsing clit, and his tongue is licking dominantly into your mouth. You’re trembling and clutching at him, moaning, only when your breath hitches, inches away from bliss, he pulls back.

You cry out as he looms over you. His smirk is cruel, and his eyes spark with fire.

“Alpha!”

He licks his one of his fingers, just one.

“Alpha, please,” you groan.

“My well-mannered Omega,” he coos. “We’ll make a mess of you yet,” he says. You’re unsure whether it’s a threat or a promise, but you have no space or time to think as he moves you again, hoisting and pushing you by the grip on your chin around and away from the table until your back is flush against the wall.

Bucky pushes you down to your knees, pinches your mouth open, then spits on your tongue. "Swallow it."

You don’t think, just swallow as his eyes bore into yours as he towers over you.

He strokes his thumb over your cheek – nearly a caress, and you can’t help leaning ever so slightly into his touch. Then his thumb moves from your cheek to your lips, tracing them before pressing down to open your mouth again. He inserts two of the fingers that had been in your cunt into your mouth, and you close your mouth and begin to suck without him having to say so. The look on his face shows his approval. As you suck, there’s something so soothing about, the weight of his fingers pressing down on your tongue, the stead rhythm, that it that lulls you even further into a state of submission for him. Your eyes begin to droop.

He chuckles and withdraws his fingers, wiping them on your face. “Don’t want that so soon in our evening.”

He begins to unbuckle his belt, and you reach for the button and zipper, but he bats your hands away and slaps your cheek.

You look up sharply at him, reaching to soothe your cheek.

“Ask nicely for your Alpha’s cock, Omega.”

His first nights with you were about physical domination. This is the other half, yielding, submission.

You think best how to ask, before saying, “Please let me put my lips around your cock, Alpha.”

He unbuttons his trousers but keeps his eyes on yours. “Tell me how you want me to use your mouth, Omega,”

“I…” you bite your lip. You aren’t a stranger to sex, but speaking so directly about it isn’t something you’ve done with any of your partners in the past.

Bucky lowers the zipper. He pushes the band of his boxers down far enough to free his cock, and you whimper. He fists his arousal slowly. “You want it, then tell me what you want exactly. You’ve already let me use your body in so many ways, we both know you want more. What are you craving?”

You wait only another beat before answering, “Want you to fuck my throat.”

You are impressed at the evenness of your own tone in that moment, and his lips tick up as well.

Bucky widens his stance, then leans down to wrap his left arm around your head, holding it – almost cradling it – in the crook of his elbow. The he pushes his cock to your lips, you open for him, he pushes in, and starts truly fucking your mouth. The first few thrusts are slow, but insistent. He fills your mouth with more of him with each of those first thrusts. Then the head of his cock hits the back of your throat. He thrusts out and in again, again, again. His other hand strokes your cheek. Then he slaps it, and you groan around his cock.

“Mmmm, fuck you feel good,” he echoes your groan. “Gonna take all of your alpha’s cock down this pretty throat,” he says, and his hand moves down to your neck, feeling himself push in there.

Your eyes are tearing up, and the tears quickly start to spill over as he continues to use your throat, never removing himself completely now that he’s overtaken your mouth. He slaps your cheek twice in quick succession and you sob around his cock as you can manage. It’s hard to breathe, and your chest heaves. You brace yourself against his thighs, and he straightens and pulls out of you.

Bucky moves quickly, taking you by the shoulders and tossing you into the middle of the floor – rough but not violent.

“Clothes off,” he barks, but it’s he didn’t need to employ an alpha command to get you to comply. You barely have enough time to discard your pants and underwear the rest of the way, and only manage to get your shirt over your head in the time it takes him to get naked.

He’s on you the next instant, covering your body with his. With his chest pressed down against yours, you feel how his breathing is just as heavy as your own, glad he’s not as unaffected as he’s tried to play this encounter.

You hitch your thighs up around his torso and squeeze your knees around him.

But he doesn’t give you what you’re most anxious for yet, instead pausing to study your face.

“Such a pretty mess,” he admires.

Heat pulses through your body, his praise undeniable to your omega side.

He dips his head to lap up the salt of some of your tears, tongue dragging slowly up your cheek. When he draws back again, he merely looks at you. His eyes seem to be looking for something, but you don’t know what. You try not to give him anything outside of this moment.

His pelvis is lodged between your hips, so you squirm beneath him, hoping your hot, dripping cunt will call him back to your pressing needs. He groans and drops his forehead to yours, another sign he’s not as cool and detached as he was at the outset.

“Please, please fuck me, Alpha,” you beg.

“Fill you up with my cock? With my seed?”

“Yes, Alpha!”

He draws his hips back and you reach down and help line up his cock with your hole. He spears in with no mercy, and you don’t need or want it. You groan together as he fills you completely.

Your mouths meet again, and it’s a combination of rough messy kisses, nipping and bites, licking, mingled heavy breaths. It’s primal and unhinged, and there’s no thought to it as he continues to fuck you.

The pace at which he thrusts is relentless and just what you need, but also not enough.

You want more and you whimper and beg through kissing for it.

Bucky continues fucking you and pulls away from your lips, but in no way is he done overwhelming you. Leaning heavily onto his vibranium arm planted next to your head, he moves his other arm and presses his inner wrist up and down your neck insistently. The sound that escapes your mouth is broken and needy as the flooding of his scent directly In and around you engulfs your senses. Then he’s also sucking on your original bonding mark until you are a heaving, panting, crying mess, clawing at his back, unable to even put coherent words together to beg for him.

His shifts just enough that his pubic bone grinds down against your clit as he pounds into your pussy. You are practically vibrating with the impending orgasm, and as your alpha can undoubtedly sense that through the bond, he bites down on your mark, and you scream and fly into your release. Your walls clench hard around him, and he growls through two more powerful thrusts before he shouts, and you feel the heat of his seed star to fill you up. He pumps and pumps until he’s left every drop he can inside of you, then collapses on top of you.

He doesn’t move, pressing you down with all his weight as you both recover from the ecstasy you’ve just experienced. You almost move to stroke your fingers up and down his spine, but you quell that impulse. You do allow yourself to keep your hands on his back though – still, but connected to this man, your alpha, who dealt you such rough but undeniable pleasure.

Finally, Bucky pushes up off you, but surprises you when he scoops you up and carries you away bridal style, heading toward your bedroom.

“Alpha?”

“You really want to live under the same roof?” he asks.

 “Yes,” you answer simply.

He glances down at your face, brows furrowed, then looks back ahead as he heads down the hallway.

“Okay then.”

“Yes?”

“Yes,” he affirms, entering your room.

He tosses you onto the bed, and crawls up over you again. He reaches beneath your back to unclasp your bra, and you let him pull it from your shoulders and toss it off to the side. Closing the gap between your bodies, you relish the feeling of his bare chest against yours, his chest hair teasing your nipples. He grips your chin yet again, this time with his vibranium hand, and looks into your eyes with a steely, cold stare.

“If you’re anything other than the good omega I require, I will send you back here, but it won’t be like this last week has been. You will be in absolute exile. Don’t test me – there will be no chances.”

You give a single nod of your head.

He pushes up and leans back then, kneeling above you.

“But you don’t want to jeopardize or risk that, do you?”

“No, Bucky.”

It’s the first time you’ve called him anything other than alpha and he clocks that, you see the flash of acknowledgement in his eyes.

“You want to be with your alpha, you want the limited freedom you know I can give you if I choose to, but you also have your own agenda”

It wasn’t a question, and you know you can’t fool him – you know he is too smart for that, and you know he knows you are intelligent in your own right. He made it clear when he closed in on your people’s territory that’s why your compliance and claiming you as his omega was part of the deal of surrender to spare any more bloodshed.

“Cross me and your future will only be visitations when I require you to service my ruts.”

You don’t doubt his threat.

“Do we have an accord, Omega?”

“Yes, Alpha.”

The words you two exchanged the fateful night of that initial surrender.

He nods.

“It seems fitting to seal it by kiss.”

You sit up and then kneel before him on the bed, he bends his head down to kiss you. It’s fervent, solemn, but he cuts it off before it develops into anything more.

“Stay here,” he orders, sliding off the bed.

That was an alpha command – wholly unnecessary except to remind you of his power.

You scowl at his retreating form, then huff once he’s out of the room.

He’s quick, and when he comes back in the room, he is slowly stroking his cock with one hand, and holds his phone in the other. He steps up to the edge of the bed.

“A kiss here, as well,” he says, pushing his hips forward.

You crawl to him, lower your head, and kiss his cock. He nods at you, indicating he expects more. You take the tip of his semi-hard cock into your mouth, lave your tongue around the tip, and then suck, looking up at him. He takes a few photos, moaning at your ministrations.

“Fuck you couldn’t look more pretty and more ruined,” he whispers. He tosses the phone down, then pushes you off him and back onto the bed, manhandling your hips to get you planted in the center of the mattress with your thighs splayed open obscenely.

“Only fair for me to finish sealing the agreement and kiss these lips as well.”

He dives in like a man starved, despite the rounds you’ve just finished. He pulls your next orgasm quickly from your fluttering pussy. You would be surprised, only you’ve come to accept that he has already acquired a dangerous – and delicious – knowledge of your body.

He looks up at you and grins and then goes in immediately for another.

You try and push him away and close your legs, feeling overstimulated, but he growls and roughly forces your thighs open again.

“Your one chance of being my good omega is already begun. So, you’re going to let me eat the pussy that belongs to me until you’re a sobbing overstimulated mess and think you can’t possibly take any more, but you will. And since this should be the last night we ever spend in this bed, when I’ve had my fill of lapping at your sweet, dripping cunt, I’m going to see if I can’t fuck you hard and long enough to break the bed.”

You can only hope your gamble to deal with the devil of HYDRA will not be your undoing.

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

Everyone check your pulse, please. Mine is gone.

I'm not saying this is officially a series, but I think we HAVE fallen into a collection territory... Unless y'all are through with this Alpha Bucky...

[authorhjk1]

Colours for her maybe?

https://www.instagram.com/p/Cr4zK8ShdZx/?igsh=NTc4MTIwNjQ2YQ==

White

(Jinni X Male Reader)

Warning! Race kink. This is purely fictional. If you are not comfortable with that, don't read it.

-------

Until two months ago, you were a horny loser. Average job, average looks, average life. It had been years since your last relationship and your desire to have sex again was increasing by the second. Sure, you could've ordered a hooker, but you decided that that would really be your last resort.

While your were scrolling through a porn side, trying to find a video of an Asian pornstar you haven't watched yet, you stumble across an add for an new app. An app for people with different kinks to come together and live out their fantasies. You were reluctant at first. You never had any luck with dating apps, so why should this one be different?

The lack of a partner that satisfies your carnal cravings eventually overwhelmed you. With shakey fingers, you create an account. It only took a couple of minutes, until you were staring at the last box you had to fill out.

What kink is your favorite?

You knew you shouldn't reduce someone to the color of their skin or their ethnicity. But since you got into kpop, you were really down bad for Asian women. You just couldn't resist. Everything about them seemed to be perfect.

Your heart beat faster as you typed in the words, afraid that they would ban you from the app.

Two days. Two days later she answered. You couldn't believe your luck, excitement rushing through your veins. You stared at her message for more than just a couple minutes.

"I want to be you favorite Asian girl."

You quickly checked out her profile.

"I like to be reduced to nothing but my body. I need someone to free-use me whenever they want. I want to go to random weddings and let a man fuck me in a semi public place, so everyone can hear my slutty moans, completely ruining their wedding."

One thing let to another...

"Oh fuck! Your cock is tearing me open!"

Jinni screams out her pleasure, her voice bouncing off the walls of this small walk in closet. This isn't your first time fucking her at a wedding. But the the first time in a church.

You know she is exaggerating a little, but that plays into her kink. Letting all the guests know that you're fucking her brains out. You are sure her voice must be echoing throughout the whole church, the old stone walls making it easier for her voice to spread.

"Give it to me. Give it to me hard! Please!"

Jinni moans and begs as you pound her from behind. Her hands are pressed against the wall she is leaning on as she takes that pounding like a good girl. Her white dress hiked up around her waist.

"Fuck, you are tight."

"Yes, I am! Just for you! Pound that Asian pussy!"

The wedding must be ruined right now, but you don't care. You keep thrusting into Jinni, enjoying how she feels around your cock. Her tight body takes every thrust with ease. That's what she said herself. She's only a body, made to be used.

You rest your head in her hair, taking in her scent. You can't keep this up for much longer. Jinni is a pro in making you cum as hard and as quick as possible by now. And the thrill of getting caught adds to that as well.

"Oh, baby! Use my body as a cum dump! Please! Cream pie me!"

Her cries force you to fuck her harder as you chase after your orgasm. If the wedding wasn't ruined yet, it definitely is now.

"Jinni..."

You warn her, your hands on her waist pulling her against your hips as you thrust forward.

"Do it! I'm just a sex toy!"

"Fuck!"

This is probably the first time the involuntary audience hears your voice. But you don't care.

You finish inside Jinni, making a mess of her pussy. Painting her insides white, you hold her in place, stopping her from grinding herself against you.

When the brain fog of your orgasm finally disappears, you can think straight again.

"Let's get out of here, before they catch us."

You nod, trying to collect yourself and your clothes.

-------

Hey everyone!

Something a little different this time. This was me, just testing the waters. Since race is often a sensitive topic, I want to know how you guys stand on race play. I've a couple of asks for idols with men of darker skin color, but I'm hesitant to write them, if I don't know your stance on this particular topic. Feel free to comment or send me a message. This won't be a regular theme of my stories. But I might mix it in occasionally, if you guys are fine with that.

After coming up with the idea for that app, I think I'm gonna use it for some of the parts of this series as well. So, if you want your favorite idol to have a particular kink, feel free to send it along with your request.

Oh, and please do mention the name of the idol, when you send pictures or links. I don't know everyone of course and some idols can look very different from other angles, or with new hair color. So to avoid confusion please add the name.

[moondirti]

i accidentally deleted the ask i received yesterday (like an idiot) so im dumping the rant i left underneath it for archival reasons

what i love most about big ugly brute simon is pairing him with girls who get a little too close. perhaps they catch him staring in public and smile politely, a little daunted but attributing what they can to innocent intent over malice. who treat him with basic decency, or perhaps extend a little extra kindness if they take the dead look in his eyes to be consequence of a rough day. the one's who hold doors open for him, or let him skip in line because he looks like he can really do with the coffee. the maybe he's just misunderstood, never judge a book by it's cover, treat others the way you want to be treated type.

kind, polite, genuinely good girls, who live life by the please and thank you handbook they were given in kindergarten, and were never taught when to keep it to themselves. well-meaning always, yet either foolish or curious when they give a beast the benefit of the doubt.

because while their courtesy is just that in the eyes of conventional society, it has an absolutely foul effect on one simon riley.

say it's because hardly anyone is ever keen on him. certainly not pretty birds, with pretty wrists, and pretty hair and clothes and easily corruptible smiles. at the first sign of warmth, he'll pounce. all animal, blinded hunger. cruel passion he knows you're not built to take, your heart pulpy like saccharine fruit. cruel passion that he will inflict anyway; trailing behind you all the way home, choreographing meetings, pushing your courtesy to its limits by being nothing but a rude brute. he bullies his way into your life, making a man-sized hole where he was uninvited (though he'll contest that. what does a smile mean if not lay over me and print yourself on my womb?). bullies you into submission, weaponising that tenderness to suit his real needs–

not coffee, or a good morning, or anything but a warm cunt and meal to come home to.

i don't think he'd ever ease up the intensity, either. even if you acquiesce or are flattered by the distasteful attention. though simon might soften up to you (in the only way he can: lending his ear while you talk about his day, or walking blocks in the rain to fetch takeout from that specific greek place you've been craving), he's still mean about it. presses you where you're weak, isolates you from your friends. hones derision when you continue to be just as amicable to everyone else. you must be asking for it, see, if you had been asking for it with him. is a big dick about it, callous and nasty as he can be – because you allow him to be, babbling tearful apologies into his chest instead of standing up for yourself.

doesn't believe any of it, of course. he knows you're too sweet for your own good. but he can't help but love seeing you get all desperate when you cry. makes his knees go weak. his head itch. you'll hold on to his arm – soft and wet and repentant, pure silk against his gnarled edges (a point people will always latch onto. how'd he land that? right minger he is) – until he growls something about making it up to him.

which you jump at. good, good, generous girl. will seat yourself, fine china between thighs that could crush you, and choke on his ruddy cock. maybe he holds you down on it, stuffs your nose onto the untamed mess of his pubes until your little legs kick for breath. or, maybe he'll lead you to down to fit your tongue in his ass, tugging himself over you until cum mats your hair. whatever the most vile, debased thing he can conceptualise at the moment is fair game. not necessarily because of the deed itself, but because he lives for nothing more than watching you do it despite not wanting to. to please him :(

sorry im a little crazy about this

[the-faceless-bride]

More Ideas for KNY (demon slayer) different characters ♡ (SOME NSFW CONTENT FOR SANEMI AND MUZAN AND MENTIONS OF GORE IN SANEMI AND LIGHT NSFW IN GYOMEI)

<- Part 1

Imagine being dangerously in love.

Imagine being a demon, obsessed with the brash, and blood thirst Wind Hashira. the first time ever being in battle with him is what leads you down a path of want and lust for the cruel hashira.

Imagine going out of your way to always be where he is, always catching his attention and being attacked by him. He believes you're mocking him, following him just to show off that he hasn't been able to kill you. But that isn't true at all. When you fight, you never actively try and gut him, only blocking your neck and leaving the rest of your limbs exposed to be lashed in this masochism tango.

Imagine struggling to hide your enjoyment and ecstacy each time his sword ripped, teard, and scar your body. He had to have known how me made you feel. He must. The darkness of your cheeks must've been a giveaway. Right? His eyes bewitching you in how intense he glares into your soul. It sets a fire under your cold skin, a burning desire.

Imagine one time when you and Sanemi are fighting. Other slayers show up. But they don't instantly jump into the fight. 1. from looking at the fight, you hadn't landed a single strike and seemed to be a greater deal slower than the hashira, and 2. Tanjiro made an odd comment. "Huh, it's like she's avoiding striking him on purpose."

Imagine how Shinobu decided the fight was long enough and tried to sneak in and end the fight. Only for a switch to set off and catch her off guard and spin at the speed of light, leaving a large gash across her body from her left founder to her hip. And Sanemi instantly tried to help her. Only to be stopped by your own weapon pressed so close to his neck that even swallowing made his Adamsapple scrape against a sharp blade. "Don't you dare. Your attention is meant for me. Are you seriously letting her attempt to get between us work?" And that made Sanemi pause... "us? Wha-" -- "don't play dumb darling. We're soulmates, Sanemi~" you whisper to him. "What the fuck."

Imagine how now you make him feel so conflicted, how he hates you for what you are but loves you for how you make him feel... in his home in his spare time as the sun rises, his windows covered and locked tight as he has you on your knees, leaning forward and his chest pressed to your back. Your head locked between his bicep as his other hand held his sword under you. It nicks you each time he thrusts. If he pushed you forward anymore, his blade would surely cut your chest and stomach open. "I HATE YOU, YOU FILTHY DEMON. I DONT WANT YOU. CURSE YOU FOR DEMONIC TEMPTATION." You softy cry at the harsh words from your love, "I don't care if you don't want me... I'm yours right now..."

Sanemi Shinazugawa × Demon reader Trope: Yandere Lovesick/I hate you so much I love you.

Imagine being with Muzan his entire life... your family were servants to his family. And from a young age, you were assigned to be Muzans personal maid or companion as you were too young to really do any work than cleaning up his room. But since you can remember, you've always been with Muzan.

Imagine being the one he confides with most. His fears, his wishes, and despite his coldness. His shouldering eyes seemed to be less scorching when it came to you. His one and only friend. Even if you didn't have much of a choice in the companionship. It was you who sat in on his doctor's visits about his deteriorating health. When he got the news of how it would be a miracle for him to even make it to his mid 20s...

Imagine how one night after a particularly scary coughing fit, he simply places his head to your mid section as you blush his hair and pull it back into a braid. He softy thanks you as he tilts his head to look up at you, "Of course, I'm always happy to take care of you." But that isn't want he wants. He wanted to take care of you. Not you to him. And without thinking, he pulls you down to him.

Imagine His heat is pounding in his chest. You lay across him as his long and slim fingers tease you between your legs. You try and stay quiet, your face twisted with pleasure and guilt. You felt like you were taking advantage of the sick man who would never find love or feel the love of another in such a romantic and intimate way. You thought maybe that this was him just grasping for a moment where he didn't feel so useless being bedridden. But it was so much more. If this was the last thing he did, pleasing the only one who he cared for most. The one he wished he could've married... he would be happy to die. This surely isn't good for his heart, but he couldn't care less. You hovering yourself above him. As he tried weakly to pull you in to rest your whole weight. This was how he wanted to spend his last days, weeks, and months. However long he had left. He wanted it to be with you.

Imagine as days go by, and he feels more and more guilty. He starts to feel as though you let him do these things because you feel obligated as his personal maid to do so. Nights in the dark ask he fingers you, giving and receiving oral pleasure. But you still won't give him everything. You refuse to fully lay with him. Sometimes, he feels like it's because you don't really love him. Not like he does you. Or maybe you find him... pathetic... he can't actually make love to you. You'd be doing all the work. He doesn't want that, and it seems you don't either... eventually, his thoughts become too much, and he decides to let you go...

Imagine you were relieved of all your maid duties, not just to Muzan but to the family as a whole. You were heartbroken. And the heartbreak only worsened at the news of Muzan and his families and your families deaths. You'd cried more times than you'd ever had before in your life. And you were so very confused when you'd found a Man who looked exactly like Muzan sitting in your bed a few nights later. "Hello dear. I'm home." He invented to truly give you what you wanted, and he was eager to give it too you.

Muzan Kibutsuji × reader Trope: Unrequited/reunited love/soulmates

Imagine being Master Kagaya's faithful slayer, you'd always admired him. You and your Master had created a strong bond. Stronger than others. Moments like this reminded you that you were special. You sat on your knees as you just like you had the first time. Your head pressed to his chest and he dragged his fingers over your head.

Imagine trying not to tear up as you remember the first time you'd kneeled for him. You'd been reckless and impatient leading to a fellow slayer getting extremely hurt. You kneeled before him as you sat in the room alone waiting for him to speak. Doing your best to not make any noise as you silently cry. You'd failed him. Your beloved Master. But he didn't yell. He didn't make you feel like you were a problem. He merely hummed before knealing with you, one hand on atop your head and the other cupping your cheek feeling the wet stream of tears and wiped it away. "It's alright. You didn't mean for this to happen. I know you didn't. I know you're a good girl." And your breath hitched. He noticed. And from then on he gave you positive affrimations which encouraged you to do better. For him.

Imagine how as you sat there listening to his words letting yourself flow away and melt into your master. He thought it was innocent. He was simply your master helping you, if it wasn't him maybe you'd find these soft words from Gyomei or maybe even Kyojuro... but he was wrong. So wrong. It was him. Only him. You'd put yourself on the line so much more than you should've. All to hear those soft praises. His wife must not like you... you do take up more and more of his time as days go on...

Imagine how he softly calls to you. Late that night, he'd heard your footsteps. He sat with you talking. About anything that day. Soft and short conversations. Quiet but not uncomfortable. "You're my favorite you know." He sighed, before he let out a small chuckle "don't tell the others." You know he was teasing. But your heart told you other wise.

Imagine being hurt. In battle you were hurt. But even in your pain you still made your way to your master... your beautiful Kagaya... the married man, the family man, that you had fallen in love with. "My dear, you still come and see me while you're in such pain?" He seemed shocked. But you aren't sure why, you'd walk on hot coles and crawled on your hands and belly to kneel for him. You'd do anything for your master. And you could only hope as his favorite... you wouldn't let him down. Finally you lifted your head from his chest, pulling his hands from your hands, leaving a kiss to his knuckles. One day. One day you'll have him.

Kagaya Ubuyashiki × Slayer reader Trope: unrequited love/lovesick/slow burn

Special Part two of Forbidden love with Gyomei × demon

Imagine how the rest of the slayers flock around Gyomei, asking him so many questions. And he couldn't even answer them all. Too consumed by his disbelief that the person he'd fallen in love with so deeply, had turned out to be a demon.

Imagine how he layed in bed lonely and... missing you. He began to long of your cold touch, your voice, your laugh that was so contagious to him. He missed you. He'd fallen for you. Demon or not. He laid in his bed trying and failing to get even a wink of sleep. But just as he had almost fallen asleep he was awoken by a sound. 'Tap tap' was the sound, 'tap tap' on his window. "Gyomei... my love..."

Imagine how he practically leaped from his bed. Demon or not you had carved yourself a spot in his heart. Slamming open the window and pulling you inside, his hands instantly feeling over your cheeks, your nose, your neck. Kissing the knuckles of your cold hands.

Imagine being the one that made Gyomei for a moment stay from his faiths. Gyomei devoted his life to his beliefs, that includes waiting. Waited all his life for the one. Saving himself and waiting. But you both were in a unique circumstances... so from that point on Gyomei promised himself to you. You would stay with him in his home and he would always come back to you. That night he would kiss you, love you, lay you under him while he whispered for you to be his.

[fragileheartbeats]

⌗ 𝘚𝘊𝘈𝘙𝘈𝘔𝘖𝘜𝘊𝘏𝘌 𝘏𝘊 ⁝ 𝘏𝘰𝘸 𝘐 𝘪𝘮𝘢𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘺𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘦 ( ♱ )

˚꒰♡꒱‧ Hi there! Before you read this, you should know that English is not my first language Hope you enjoy!

Oh lord. He's a sadistic yandere. The type that I hate the most. He's honestly one of the worst yanderes in the game. Why would you even want him as your yandere?

Scaramouche thinks you're stupid. So, so stupid. You really believe this world is beautiful, don't you? You think it's worth it? You believe there are good things to be thankful for? You believe in gods?

That's why you're always smiling, isn't it? That's why you're not scared of him? That's why you're so happy? What a stupid, stupid human.

But he'll show you. He'll show you why you shouldn't trust blindly. Why this world is cruel. Why there's only disgusting things in this world. Why no one answers your prayers.

Oh, does it hurt? Did he broke your wrist? Are you crying? Does the little baby want her mommy? Too bad she's stuck with him, right?

How about your legs? Do they hurt badly? How does it feel? How much does it hurt? It must hurt so much, right?

Then why are you smiling through your tears? Why are you trying to reach him? Why are you caressing his face? Why are you telling him it's okay? That you're fine?

Huh? What is this? What is this feeling? Why are his eyes blurring? What's this? Why are his cheeks wet? What's that look on your face? Why does everything hurt so much?

Don't touch him! Don't fucking touch him with your filthy hands! It's your fault. It's all your fucking fault. If you hadn't smiled at him, if you hadn't tried to help him the first time, this wouldn't have happened.

But that's okay. That's okay. He just has to try harder. He just has to push you harder. To hurt you more.

What's wrong now? Why are you quiet? Shouldn't you be smiling? You said it didn't hurt, right? You said you were fine, right? Then why aren't you smiling now?

It's funny. See! You're not smiling anymore. He was right! He won! Now he's the one who can't stop laughing.

But... but if he won, why isn't he happy? Why are his eyes burning? Why are his hands shaking? Why can't he force his body to move?

The smell of blood disgusts him. His fingers dig into your cheeks as he forces your head up. Your once beautiful face is now marred with bruises and scars. Your clothes, soaking with blood, cling to your body like a second skin. He can clearly see the scars, the bruises, the broken bones that stick out of your flesh–everything. He can see everything.

He should be happy, right? Wasn't that what he wanted? He wanted to break you, right? He wanted to destroy your smile, right?

He softly unlocks the chains around your broken wrists, and your body collapses to the ground, as if you're dead.

He kneels down and wraps his arms around your fragile body. He buries his nose in your knotted hair and tries to calm himself down. But his tears just keep falling, and now you no longer wipe them away.

He presses his forehead to yours, his lips trembling. "I'm sorry," he whispers, the words foreign and bitter on his tongue. "I'm so sorry."

What has he done?

@ 𝒇𝒓𝒂𝒈𝒊𝒍𝒆𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒃𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒔 . 𝐷𝑜𝑛'𝑡 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑔𝑖𝑎𝑟𝑖𝑠𝑒, 𝑟𝑒𝑝𝑜𝑠𝑡, 𝑜𝑟 𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑠𝑙𝑎𝑡𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑦 𝑜𝑓 𝑚𝑦 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑘𝑠 𝑜𝑛 ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑜𝑟 𝑎𝑛𝑦 𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑤𝑒𝑏𝑠𝑖𝑡𝑒𝑠.

[bywons]

✢ ⠀ CRAWLING BACK TO YOU — PJS

━━━ ❛ 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗄 𝗃𝗈𝗇𝗀𝗌𝖾𝗈𝗇𝗀 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗀𝗂𝗋𝗅 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄

( 𝖠𝖱𝖳 𝓓𝖤𝖢𝖮 ) 𝗉𝗃𝗌 𝗑 𝖿!𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 𖥔 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿 𝖾𝗑𝖾𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗌 ` ィ 𝗌𝗎𝗀𝗀𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗏𝖾? 𝗃𝖾𝖺𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌𝗒 𝗄𝗂𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝖺𝗅𝖼𝗈𝗁𝗈𝗅 1334 𝑤𝖼 && CATALOUGE

✦ PLS REBLOG if u enjoyed !! | click me 𝑖𝗇𝗌𝗉𝗈

“glad to kn-know i'm still relevant in your world,” jay pushes the door aside, stumbling to the side of your apartment door. back pressed against it with his head held high, he shoots you a smug smirk as he's almost about to slide down. “i knew you miss me, darling.”

he's drunk, it's clear as day. you don't miss out the little silver flask almost falling off from his hand and how he reeks of alcohol, who knows how many drinks he had this night. you don't even remember why you called him in the first place, it's 3 in the morning— both too early and late and scandalous to call a person, especially when it's your ex. especially when it's a drunk park jongseong.

“jay,” you sigh, running a hand through your hair, “what are you doing here?”

he chuckles, his laugh a mix of genuine amusement and intoxicated sloppiness. “you called, so here i am,” he says, attempting to stand up straighter but failing miserably. “couldn't leave you hanging, could i?"

you groan internally, cursing your impulsive decision. “fuck me,” you mutter. “come in before you wake up the whole building.” you literally drag him into your apartment before shutting the door close. jay collapses on the couch, a faint smirk still directed at you.

did you call him? everything in the past hour has been so obscure that you didn't even notice the dry tears on your cheeks until now, when a cool breeze caresses it, leaving an odd stretchy feeling against your dry skin. maybe it's a few glasses of wine, or a drunk call? maybe you called him to deal with the cockroach in your room which you know you can deal with yourself. or maybe it's the overwhelming loneliness that's been gnawing at you lately. regardless, calling jay at 3 in the morning wasn't your smartest move.

“now, why'd you call me?,” ah of course, now he will want to talk about your break up. he can barely make sentences, words overlapping each other in a somewhat coherent sentence, “3 am is definitely your timing.”

and the best way to ignore a drunk talking park jongseong? offer him water to sober down, because heck you can't understand anything. neither him nor this situation.

grabbing a bottle of water from the kitchen, you hand it to him, watching as he struggles to sit up and open it before finally taking a sip.

“why did you call me?" he asks, voice softer now. the redness of his eyes and the bravado in his voice fading. he looks up at you, only a hands’ distance away from where he's sitting.

“i need you to ah—,” shit. eye contact with park jongseong still has the same effect on you, “help me move some furniture. you know, crazy landlady.” you let out a chortle.

“moving furniture? at 3 am?,” jay narrows his eyes, gaze piercing through you, it's obvious he doesn't believe you, “do i seriously have the word dumb tattooed across my face?”

jay doesn't move an inch from his place, eyes lying still on yours, an unspoken connection that's been missed by you both, a connection so palpable and mellow that it's still a residue in this messed up relationship. you realise how much you miss his eyes— he moves your heart by them and he's still. you wish you could kiss him right now, does he want that too? after all, why wouldn't he want that? no man is willing to stumble to their ex's apartment at 3 in the morning in a drunken state. that too after just one call which could've been an accident? jay definitely wants you back.

“no, no at all jay, i'm really—”

“you were with heeseung last week,” jay doesn't let you finish explaining yourself— before he gives you another mishap to explain. his eyes narrow down even more, he catches his lips between his teeth, “...i didn't like that.”

“you should've closed your eyes and walked out of the bar then, jay,” you snap. it's quite insufferable for park jongseong to be furious over the consequences of his actions. you had to return home late at night, and with no car how could you? you don't trust cabs at that hour, but you do still trust your ex. and when even the last option opts out himself you're left with something out of syllabus— his best friend. you have to go home! “don't start with that.”

“fair, want me to start with fixing ’seung?,” jay's words are colder than the flask he's carrying.

“jay you better not—”

“oh i won't,” jay scoffs, evident jealousy laced in his voice, “i have better things to do.”

it's only a split second, and you don't know when or how you end up under him on the sofa, his hand softly clasping around your wrist and the other encircling your waist. jay entangles his legs with yours, an impossible knot to get out of. there's still a drunken reflection in his eyes as he pushes a strand of your hair behind your ear, hand caressing your cheeks. his eyes stunt yours, you're suddenly unable to speak as you feel his lips press down yours. they sloppily trace down to your cheeks to your jaws and neck. jay giggles in between, probably at your sudden silence, and the way he feels your hands pull his collar closer to you.

that's the most basic method to try and get back your ex. but you don't find yourself stopping him.

“so, this is the better thing?,” you scoff when you look up at him, jay leaves a final kiss on the crook of your neck before he hovers over you again.

his silver chain dangles from his neck, the coldness of it caressing the bridge of your nose, sending an electric wave down your spine. pairing up with his smug eyes and lazy grin is the deadliest combo ever, it's not good for you at all. should you really get back with him? kiss this better with him?

“the best thing,” jay whispers, “don't know why heeseung even tries,” he rolls his eyes, “you're mine, he should use his eyes.”

“am i really yours?,” you sigh, your hold on his black shirt's collars loosening as your eyes become glossy at the thought of something disturbing, “i saw you…with someone else too.” it felt weird somewhere to feel betrayed when you see some random girl clinging to your ex, even though you know jay probably brushed her off later but you didn't wait to see the scene.

“oh no no, love,” you expected jay to panic and chant ‘it was a mistake’, but you're glad he didn't live up to this expectation. he's confident about what he says, as he moves lower and closer to your face, tracing the bridge of your nose to your jaws, “i'm too busy being yours, there's no someone else.”

“aren't you being a little cheesy?,” a tiny smile hangs on your lips, threatening to turn into a laugh, as you play with his collars.

“can't even tell the truth now?,” it's his turn to grin, he takes your hand in his and places a soft kiss.

you can't help but let out a soft giggle at his words. it's only been a month since you two broke off, but jay still finds his way back to you, like you do too. at this moment jay's world is silent. this is the moment he's been waiting for. sober, with you, kissing you all over with a hope of a new starting. you are his vibrance, he can't afford to lose it.

“i could do anything for you. sorry i failed to make this clear earlier,” his smug expression is back on again.

“anything to come back to me?”

“anything i would die for you, fight for you,” jay confirms, and just like that his lips are back on yours again, “do you want me crawling back to you?”

a/n — uuuhh can u guess this was kinda a hurried writing TT i'm not really satisfied with this but I hope u enjoyed it ^^ pleek lmk ^^

© bywons, 2024. do not copy, translate or upload any of my works without my permission.

📌 :: TAGLIST IS OPEN! nets. @.k-labels @enchive tags ⭒ @leaderwon @dimplewonie @wonfilms @heartswonn @jwonistic @aaa-sia @ashtxrie @kgneptun @flwrstqr @haechansbbg @river-demon-slayer @in-somnias-world @teddywonss @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @mylstserenade @branchrkive @aishigrey @nctislifue @greyminyoon1 @ro-diaries @rikibun @sleepyxxhead @belovedsthings @moond1or @oddracha @shinrjj @nishislcve @luvlyhee @laylasbunbunny @junislqve @jlheon @hyeinism @jakesangel @okwonyo ⭒

[manikas-whims]

request for LADS

what if u have to fake date the guys for some reason but its starts becomin difficult for ur heart cuz you start catching feelings

thank you 🙏

thanks for this request! ♡ i went a lil overboard with this LOL. WARNING ⚠️ long post..

Fake Dating the Love and Deepspace men but you start catching feelings

ZAYNE

❄️ Tara keeps trying to set you up with one of her colleagues, and no matter how subtle she acts about it, you're getting tired of it. Thus, you come to this decision! You request Zayne to play your fake boyfriend for a while.

❄️ The matter of his own feelings aside, Zayne just thinks that fake dating someone to avoid potential dates is incredibly crazy. “You can simply ask your friend to stop.”

❄️ His suggestion is baffling. You feel like an idiot for ignoring the obvious solution. But only a moment later realize that even asking her to stop won't likely deter Tara. At least not until she sees you with a person better than any of her chosen candidates.

❄️ So you decide to let go of the little self-respect you have and beg Zayne to do this for you. He is amused by this ridiculous proposition but agrees nonetheless since he can never really say no to you.

❄️ It's an amazing experience cause Zayne is the perfect boyfriend anyone could ever ask for— handsome, smart, caring, strict when needed, protective and very accommodating.

❄️ The first time Tara meets him, her eyes literally glow with admiration. And she pats your back like a proud aunt, winking suggestively as she does so.

❄️ However, Zayne has always been great at adapting to the situations at hand and soon your arrangement starts becoming a bit of a problem for your delicate heart.

❄️ It is one thing to show him off to your colleagues. But Zayne has started doing stuff like dropping you home everyday after work, his only explanation being “that's what he would do if he was your REAL boyfriend”.

❄️ And this isn't all. He's taking breaks in the afternoon to have lunch with you everyday and make sure you don't miss any meals. He slips your hand inside his coat pocket on particularly colder days. He even focuses on the little things like wiping a coffee stain from your bottom lip or gently pushing the stray strands of hair behind your ear. All this while, his explanation is: it's what he would do if he were your real boyfriend. And you aren't sure your heart will manage long if this goes on.

❄️ The real issue arises when one of your colleagues point out how they've never seen you kiss. And this makes Tara perk-up too.

❄️ In your defense, you spout some nonsense about how Zayne is kinda shy by nature and doesn't believe in PDA much. “When we're alone, he's very passionate.”

❄️ This leads to Tara and a bunch of colleagues secretly tailing you when Zayne comes to pick you up one evening. For they also wanna see this passionate side of him.

❄️ “Um..Zayne, can we kiss?” You whisper, your eyes averted, and fingers fiddling in nervousness. Its not that you are worried about the "kissing" part. Thats easy. You are actually worried about kissing Zayne.

❄️ As for Zayne, he is confused and shocked at first. Even blushes a little. But thanks to his perceptive nature, he quickly spots your colleagues and understands.

❄️ So as you clumsily teeter closer to him and raise yourself on your feet to reach his height, he chuckles at your efforts as well as the pained expression on your face.

❄️ “Relax.” He commands and magically, his words do calm your nerves a little.

❄️ He smiles then, his big arms wrapping smoothly around your waist as he lowers his head and lets his lips gently linger against yours, igniting a desire within you.

❄️ When he finally pulls back moments later, you nearly loose your footing.

❄️ This is it. The last shred of your sanity blown away. It may have only been a few moments but the kiss leaves an impact on you. Your heart can't take it anymore. Because you enjoyed the kiss more than you should have. And its made you realise that you may have actual feelings for Zayne.

XAVIER

⭐ There's this creepy resident at your apartment complex who's been trying to make moves on you but he's just been so nice and subtle about it that you have no idea how to turn him down. Thus, instead of that, you ask Xavier to play your fake boyfriend for a while.

⭐ “This doesn't seem like a good idea.” He says, hesitantly scratching his cheek.

⭐ Xavier also believes beating the shit out of the guy is a better option, and a permanent solution. But again, you can't do that because the guy hasn't actually done anything threatening or concerning. Thus, any sort of unwarranted violence against such a guy will only result in more problems for Xavier and You.

⭐ So Xavier sighs, and nods with a smile. “Fine. What do you need me to do?”

⭐ “Just do things only a boyfriend would do whenever that guy is around.” You tell him and he nods.

⭐ And so it starts with you dragging Xavier out for morning laps and evening walks around the complex, and you always make sure to hold onto Xavier's arm whenever you spot the strange guy.

⭐ But as the days go by, you sense as if Xavier may be a little too good at his new job.

⭐ One evening as you are working out at the gym on the top floor of the apartment complex, the guy walks in and approaches you. To your annoyance, he begins his usual small talk. But he's barely strung two words together when you feel the warmth of a hand gliding along your waist.

⭐ You look up to find Xavier, his clothes sweaty from workout. He tucks his chin on top off your head, his arm around your waist tightening ever so slightly. “Do you know this guy?”

⭐ It takes a moment for you to realise you're gawking! At the same guy you had asked to pretend to be your boyfriend. And it's not just his fingers stroking circles on your belly but also the way his voice sounds more intimate!??

⭐ Quickly, you compose yourself and stammer a response. “N-Not really. He's a resident just like us.”

⭐ And with that said, you're being steered out of the gym, Xavier's arm never leaving your waist.

⭐ Ever since you've known him, he rarely breaches your personal space without permission. A gentleman through and through. It's you who's been messing with his hair, squishing his cheeks and poking his chest to tease him all this time.

⭐ But ever since you asked him to play boyfriend, he's the one initiating skinship at the most unexpected moments. It's as if this fake dating arrangement has given him a free pass to do everything he usually holds back from.

⭐ Now he holds your hand whenever you're walking together, idly plays with your hair strands when hanging out at your place, and ALWAYS makes sure his arms are around your waist or face nuzzling your neck in the presence of that strange guy.

⭐ You may have been the one who requested him to do this but you aren't so sure about this whole thing anymore.

⭐ A few weeks have passed but the guy is persistent. Now he's always trying to find you when he's sure Xavier won't be around.

⭐ “It's not working. We need to do something more convincing.” You say in a deflated tone. You and Xavier are standing in the hallway of your floor, having just returned from a mission.

⭐ And that creep is lurking at the end of the floor by the elevator, waiting for Xavier to leave so he can ask you out yet again.

⭐ Xavier tucks a hand under his chin, his nose scrunching in thought. “Something more you say..”

⭐ Then in the very next moment, he pushes you against your own apartment door, a hand coming to rest upon it to keep you in place; his other hand gently cradles your face, arching it slightly before he presses his lips against your own.

⭐ Only a moment later he pulls away, then kisses you again. This time with more fervor than needed to fake it. And when he breaks the kiss again, his lips gravitate towards your neck.

⭐ “Xa..Xavier..?” You're stunned. You're not even sure how you are meant to react.

⭐ Xavier pushes away from you slightly and turns his head, his gaze directed right at the strange man. “She’s mine.” He asserts.

⭐ The man is as shocked as you are and immediately runs away.

⭐ Xavier looks back at you and flashes his usual soft smile. “This should convince him enough.”

⭐ Seriously!? Who cares about that guy anymore? Your heart is the most convinced that you may possibly be falling for Xavier.

RAFAYEL

🌊 “Miss Bodyguard, would you like to date me?” Rafayel asks one day out of the blue, and you are left feeling equal parts flustered and confused because WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK!?

🌊 He enjoys watching you trying to act nonchalant when your fidgety movements and flushed cheeks clearly tell him otherwise.

🌊 Finally he explains how he has accumulated quite the fanbase, thanks to not just his art but his gorgeous looks. And now these same loving fans are becoming slightly toxic with how they stalk him around, making it impossible for him to even go out in peace. Aa such, he wants to promote you from the position of his bodyguard to fake girlfriend.

🌊 You don't like the sound of it. You can already smell trouble from afar but you know he'll keep pestering until you relent. So you agree to it in the end.

🌊 Only later you realise what you've actually gotten yourself into.

🌊 Rafayel is already kinda clingy by nature but now that you've agreed to his dating charade, he's fully taking advantage of it.

🌊 Everytime he drags you out to a public spot, he makes sure that the two of you hold hands. And rather than going to places that may inspire him for his paintings, he drags you to expensive fashion brands stores.

🌊 Even as you refuse to let him buy any of it, he makes you try on the outfits for hours, making you turn this way and that, asking you to pose in specific ways as he snaps numerous photographs (which he'll definitely use as reference for his portraits of you). And just when you think it's over with all the fancy clothes, he makes you try on footwear next.

🌊 He's also buying you all these gifts you never asked for. He's basically spoiling you with things you can't otherwise afford.

🌊 He's also posting a lot of cringe yet cutesy couple photos with you on his social media accounts.

🌊 And you may not admit it but you are beginning to enjoy being spoilt like this.

🌊 Weeks pass without you even realising. This arrangement is becoming more and more dangerous for your heart. Because lets be honest Rafayel may be enjoying playing around with you like this but the same can't be said for you. You know that if this goes on any longer, your heart is bound to make space for him.

🌊 “How much longer do we need to keep this up?” You ask one day.

🌊 He merely winks at you. “Just a little longer.”

🌊 You try your best to keep your emotions in check. You just need to endure him and his charm for a little longer. Heck! You kill wanderers for a living so the matters of heart shouldn't be anymore difficult than that. Right? Right?

🌊 Oh how foolish you are.

🌊 It happens during a private gala Rafayel is invited to and of course as his “girlfriend”, you're supposed to go with him.

🌊 That, and the other reason being this crazy musician who will be there. Apparently she's been hitting on Rafayel for a while now, and your appearance may finally make her retreat.

🌊 So there, amidst the crowd of snobbish strangers, Rafayel asks you for a dance. And in the dim glow of the hall, paired with a slow, romantic tune, he feels closer than he is. And it happens..your resolve falters.

🌊 He wiggles a brow towards the corner of the room, and surely enough, you spot the aforementioned crazy musician. Indeed, she doesn't seem very happy with the way Rafayel has his arms around you.

🌊 And to deliberately spur her further, he lowers his head. His breath is ticklish along your skin as he whispers in your ear. “You’ve moved along quite well to my tune. You're a good dancer.”

🌊 For some reason, you don't like those words. Rafayel complimenting you so freely cannot be a good sign.

🌊 “Just endure a little longer, Miss Bodyguard. Tonight will be the last run of this charade.”

🌊 Then he tucks a lose strand of hair behind your ear and leans his face in, his lips gently brushing along yours before pressing harder.

🌊 The kiss is slow and lingering, just like the song being played. But it seems that the moment you begin to give in and truly relish it, the moment ends. He pulls away and smiles.

🌊 Yet you can't muster enough strength to smile back for its happened. Your resolve is broken. Your heart has already reserved the best spot for him. And you aren't ready to let go of this charade any time soon..

i have 4-5 more LADS requests to finish. i'm working on them and will post them soon ✌️😊

THANKS FOR READING ♡

SEND ME REQUESTS FOR LOVE & DEEPSPACE HEADCANONS VIA ASKS.

» MASTERLIST «

[hom3landr]

That Unwanted Animal

18+

Homelander x Soulmate!reader

You don’t love Homelander. Even when he looks like everything you’ve ever wanted.

Loosely based on this post from @blindmagdalena

His t-shirt is soft under your hands as you cling to him. The baseball cap shields his features from you as presses you against the alley wall. The blue fabric rubs against your cheek as he thrusts up into you. The both of you avoid eye contact and as you bury your face into his shoulder, the scent of his cologne nearly chokes you. You thought it would be easier like this. You’d believed that maybe without the suit you could pretend your “lover” was a normal man. Maybe the two of you had met at a bar, or a doctor’s office, or while walking dogs in the park. You could have been an ordinary couple with a soulmate story fit for a Hallmark movie.

But a change of clothes can’t distract you from the fact that this man, your soulmate, is the very man you’ve dedicated your life to bringing down. It’s a sick joke, isn’t it? You love your team. Hughie is always there with a shoulder to cry on. M.M. gives good advice. Frenchie and Kimiko have become almost like siblings to you. Even Butcher you hold fondness for, as infuriated as he often makes you. They’re your family and yet you’re here fucking enemy #1 in a filthy alley and he’s going to make you come.

You bite his shoulder to keep from crying out as he effortlessly holds you up. It would be easier if he was bad in bed. The soulmate bond would still suck ass, but at least you wouldn’t derive pleasure from it. He came so fast the first time you fucked him that you’d initially been relieved. It had been perfect until he’d spread your legs to lap his own come from you until you’d shuddered helplessly against his tongue. You’d gone home and cried after, despite the pleasure still pulsing warmly through your veins.

You can’t even say it isn’t consensual. Your bond causes you to ache for him viscerally. Hell, this time you sought him out. He didn’t even protest when you laid out your terms. He had seemed more amused than anything. When he showed up wearing civilian clothing like you demanded, you almost turned him away with tears pricking at your eyes.

He looks soft, human, like someone you could love, a real soulmate. Even as he pumps into you, the peek of blond sticking out from beneath the cap makes you ridiculously endeared against your will. If only he was anyone else…

Soulmates have always been romanticized to a ridiculous degree, despite everyone knowing a story of some person who is enslaved by their mark instead of liberated. There are many things that can tie two souls together besides love. Yet everyone still longs for the day they find their match, in hopes of the happiest of endings. You had been no different.

You whine and clench around him as he angles himself differently, his cock sliding even deeper into you until it feels like you're choking on it. Your mark burns and the empty pit in your stomach that lingers in his absence is washed away with each heated pulse. The nausea of being away from him finally subsides with each brush of your skin against his. He sighs happily into your hair, as the same sense of belonging envelopes him. This feels right and it makes you want to scream.

“Mine,” he growls against your temple.

“Yours,” your bond answers for you.

You only ever fuck him in comfortless places.

Your heels dig into his ass and you rock yourself into his thrusts. He nips at your ear gently…affectionately. He can’t distinguish between true love and the oppressive obsession that comes with a mate. You don’t love him. Things would be easier if you did.

Why couldn’t he be anybody else?

“Is this good?” He asks needily. He can sense your distraction. He wants to be good for you. He wants to please you. You flutter around him and one hand strokes the back of his neck tenderly despite the mental torment that you’re facing. No one has ever been so attentive during sex before. He makes you feel cherished. Even when you beg for him to make it hurt, he refuses. The same hands that have commited endless cruelties hold you like something rare and precious.

You don’t answer and you can feel his petulant frown against your skin as he waits for feedback.

He adjusts you effortlessly in his grip so he can stroke you exactly the way he’s learned you like it. You whine desperately as you leak all over his fingers and drip onto the ground below. He sighs at the feeling.

“I love you so much.” He whispers intimately into your ear. His sincerity makes you want to weep. “You’re everything I ever wanted.”

It doesn’t matter how many times you rebuke him or refuse his offer to take you home with him. He still believes that you feel the same. He believes that one day he’ll find you soaking wet at his penthouse door, having run across the city in the pouring rain to him, confessing how much it hurt to push him away. He wants the satisfaction of knowing that you abandoned your team from sheer want of him. He thinks of your situation as a romantic comedy that hasn’t hit the emotional climax yet.

It’s pathetic and delusional and you hate how close you know you are to fulfilling it. You don’t love him…but you know you could.

Despite how hard you try to resist, you come hard and you sob into his neck at the intensity of it. He whispers sweet nothings into your ear as he rubs you through it. You kiss him to shut him up and he groans into your mouth as he releases inside you. He kisses you back desperately, seeking whatever crumbs of affection you let yourself give him, using them as proof to fuel his delusional fantasies.

Once you’ve both ridden out your respective orgasms, he finally pulls back to look at you. The softness in his eyes belongs to a kinder man. Your stomach flips. His cap has been knocked slightly askew and he looks human. He frowns slightly and the hand he was using to bring you pleasure brushes something off your cheek.

“You’re crying.” He remarks, hand now cupping your cheek as his thumb strokes your skin in an attempt to comfort you. You want him to be rude to you the way he is to everyone else. You want him to mock you and make crass disrespectful remarks. You open your mouth to reply and a broken sob comes out. He hushes you softly and leans down to kiss the tears that roll down your cheeks

“I love you.” You confess finally, the truth is bitter and shameful in your mouth. You’ve finally stopped lying to yourself

“You say that every time. Are you actually going to follow through or are you going to deny yourself some more?” He asks dryly, cocking his head at you. His grip flexes as he continues to press you against the wall.

You both know the answer. Just like you both know that one day the answer will be different.

Your team better succeed before then.

[er-osion]

Stumble In(to my life)

pairing: Jason Todd x gn!Reader

summary: You tend to Red Hood after he’s mildly injured on patrol, he then sticks around a little.

word count: 2.6k

warnings: none, fluff

∾∾∘⋅∗⋄⋆⋄∗⋅∘∾∾

You looked up from your books to the soft thump outside your window. A normal person wouldn’t have heard the noise at all, but your ears had become accustomed to listening for it. It was late, far later than you should be up, but tonight was a night filled with studying and anxiety, so sleep evaded you. You put a bookmark in your textbook and closed it, being careful of your notes, and got up from your couch. You just reached the window as a large armored figure clamored through. Backing up, you gave the beast of a man space to gracefully tumble through your window and into your apartment. The sound of sirens off in the distance became muffled once again when the man closed the window tightly behind him.

Red Hood never said much. A man of few words you supposed, at least when he was injured —which was the only time you saw him. You couldn’t recall when this little arrangement between the two of you began, maybe around a year ago. The Red Hood crashed and stumbled into your life one fateful night, and had been doing so ever since. But only when he needed a patch job, and he never took off his helmet. Even when you could tell he had a head injury that needed tending, he wouldn’t remove the red helmet. You knew he trusted you, clearly a lot more than he trusted others, but a part of you was still a little hurt. You'd known him for so long and still yet to see his real face or hear his real voice unmodulated. Oddly enough, you’d call Hood a friend. Even if you didn’t know his real name along with many other things about him, and even if he knew very little about you other than the basics, you’d consider him a good friend. And deep down you’re sure he thinks the same.

Hood slumps down on the couch, but you notice he’s careful to avoid being anywhere near your textbooks and notes. You silently appreciate the move, since last time he got blood on your papers and you had to come up with a believable story for your professor explaining why there were blood splatters on your homework.

“Rough night?” You ask jokingly as you get out the first aid kit. Hood gives a ‘Hmpf’ in response and rests his head against the back of the couch. You move your school stuff off the coffee table and set out the supplies from the first aid kit. You let your eyes roam his figure to try and find the injuries you’d be taking care of tonight. You slyly take in Hood’s toned muscles as you look for wounds, taking the action as a less obvious chance to check him out. However secretive he may be, you can’t deny the man looks good. Actually, “looks good” is an understatement, his abs could cut diamonds.

“How many bruises are you gonna have in the morning?” You ask as you help him take off his leather jacket which is crusted with dried blood here and there.

“Too many.” He’s short with his words but by now you can hear the underlying exhaustion in them. His voice sounds robotic from the mask, but it still brings you a wave of comfort to hear.

“Anything I can’t see?” This phrase has become your way of asking where his most concerning injuries are, and whether or not he’s comfortable with you dealing with them.

“No, tonight’s just the obvious stuff.”

“Not any less painful I presume.”

“And as usual, you’re right, angel.” Your lips quirk up in the ghost of a smile at the nickname. You’ve started cleaning the gashes on his arms and wrapping them with gauze and bandages. Hood relaxes a bit more into the couch, tensing only when you start cleaning wounds with the cold water and saline solution.

As you’re working your mind drifts into thinking about the nature of your relationship with this vigilante. Part of you is proud, honored even, that the elusive Red Hood trusts you enough to seek you out for medical care. But another part of you, the part you don’t really want to acknowledge, is angry he only ever visits when he needs fixing. He doesn’t tell you anything about himself, not even ice-breaker facts, and he doesn’t really ask about you. He doesn’t drop by anytime he’s not injured and he never tells you when he’s coming, he just shows up at your window injured without warning. Your heart stings when you think that you might be dead last on Red Hood’s priority list, especially considering he’s first on yours. Does he really only think of you as a patch job? Someone who will treat him without asking any questions? Does he even have any interest in your life at all? Does he ever think about you when he’s not around, like you think of him? By now, you’ve lost yourself in the spiral of your thoughts and are blankly working out of muscle memory. You don’t even notice, but Red Hood does.

Jason watches you work through the eyes of his helmet. He can see the distance in your eyes and can tell you’re thinking hard about something else. But even as your mind wanders, your hands do not. You work efficiently and effectively on cleaning and wrapping his wounds. You take care to check for broken bones and remove any debris you find in his skin. He appreciates you. He’s certain he appreciates you more than you’ll ever know. He didn’t realize how lucky he was when he stumbled through your window all those nights ago. He didn’t realize that night that he’d gain a safe haven. He’s never felt more secure than when he’s with you in your apartment. Jason’s never felt more comfortable than when in your presence. He thinks it’s a little odd. You don’t know what his face looks like, hell, you don’t even know his real name, but his trust in you is an ever flowing river. Jason trusts you more than he trusts himself sometimes. Jason blinks out of a trance he didn’t realize he was in and focuses back on you. The lamps in your apartment provide the only measly light for you to work with, but right now they aren’t crummy. No, the lamps have painted your figure in a warm glow that has Jason’s heart stuttering in an unusual way. The homey furniture melts into the dim background and you're the only thing in focus in Jason’s vision. It’s moments like these when Jason is hit with a flurry of emotions he doesn’t understand. You finish wrapping his last bandage and look up at him with the most gentle but curious eyes he’s ever seen and Red Hood suddenly feels like he’s about to choke. His chest swirls with feelings and he can’t even begin to grasp what they are or what they mean. He wants to say “thank you, thank you for always looking after me even when I don’t deserve it,” but the words get caught in his throat. There’s a tranquil silence that follows where you just look at each other, of course, you can’t tell exactly what Red Hood is looking at but you can feel his gaze on you. When a minute passes you get up slowly and start to put the first aid kit away. Jason watches you from behind the safety of his helmet and moves to help you package everything back up.

Hood’s gloved hand picks up a roll of gauze and brings it over to the kit, but you quickly —albeit gently— put your hand over his to stop him and take the gauze yourself. “You don’t have to do that. You’re injured, rest.” You say with quiet authority and go back to cleaning up the table. Hood doesn’t say anything but leans back into the couch and doesn’t continue to help, though deep down he wants to. He feels he owes you, he knows he owes you. He wants to do something, anything to pay back the kindness you’ve shown him but he can never think of the right thing to do.

“You’re welcome to sit here for a bit, regain some energy before you head to wherever it is you hide during the day. I’ve just got some notes to finish for class.” You provide as you sit down in the chair next to your sofa, repositioning all your textbooks and papers. Hood just nods in reply. “Oh, and you can turn on the tv if you’d like, I don’t mind.” There’s a pause before you see the vigilante move to grab the remote and turn on your tv. You smile a bit at your papers, finding a small happiness in the fact he’s able to settle into your home so well. You secretly wish he’d come and watch tv with you just for fun, not because he needs to recover from a stab wound.

Every once in a while, Jason’s eyes drift from the tv screen to where you’re seated taking notes for your class. Jason does his best to memorize this moment and neatly pack it away in a safe little box in his brain. He wants to remember this quiet moment of togetherness forever. He wants to say something, he wants your beautiful eyes back on him but he also doesn’t want to disrupt the pleasant quiet that swirls around your living room.

Red Hood clears his throat and shimmies into a straighter posture. “Thanks by the way.” You look up at the vigilante and tilt your head in confusion at his remark.

“For what?” You let out a small chuckle, the confusion is evident in your voice. Jason’s lips quirk up in a small smile under his helmet at your confusion at his thanks.

“For all this to start,” Hood motions to himself “and also just for letting me in here. For letting me into your home without fair warning. Your patience with my bullshit seems to know no bounds, you deserve an award merely for that. So… thanks.” Thank you for letting me into your life and making me feel cared for, Jason wants to add on, but that seems a little too open about his feelings for the moment. He hopes you’re able to pick up on the subtext of his words, he hopes you can put together the puzzle pieces of his words that form the colorful picture of his appreciation for you.

You smile lightly, “Of course, Hood. Believe it or not, I actually enjoy having your giant smartass around.” You took a deep breath and let loose a shot in the dark. “I just wish you’d stumble in here when you weren’t injured sometimes, just to hang around.” You awkwardly divert your eyes to the floor and take a major interest in the small stains in the wood. Hood is quiet and unmoving and you can’t tell if that’s good or bad, you can’t tell if you crossed an unspoken line. Jason’s mind is reeling, trying to catch up with the implications of your words. Do you mean you want him around more? Do you mean you want a deeper friendship with him? Do you mean you truly enjoy his presence so much you want more of it in your life? You risk a look back up at Red Hood and when Jason sees the genuine look in your eyes he hopes the modulator in his helmet doesn’t give away the deep breath he had to intake to try and calm his heart.

“Well, maybe I’ll have to drop by more often then, angel.” Hood tries to play off the deepness of the moment with suave teasing, he has to retain at least a little dignity in front of you.

You smirk at his clearly playful comeback, “Just make sure you show up with takeout or some groceries. I can’t be providing everything for you all of the time.” Hood huffs out a laugh.

“I think I can manage that.”

“Good.” You smile warmly at him and Jason mirrors you beneath his helmet. There’s a soft silence that follows where the two of you just look at each other. Then you go back to finishing your notes with the smile still plastered on your face. Jason is already planning out his schedule so he can drop in just for fun as soon as possible without seeming desperate to hang out.

“My cuts are pretty sore by the way and I’m quite fatigued so I might have to stay for a bit longer.”

“Hm, well if that’s what you need to do then I can’t deny you. I’m not going to kick Gotham's hero out of my apartment while he’s down.” You know he’s not really that sore or fatigued. You can tell by his body language or his tone of voice when he is. You know he’s just saying that to ask if it’s okay if he stays a bit longer than usual. Of course, you’d never say no. You’d offer him to stay the night but you don’t want him to get uncomfortable, though deep down, you’re desperate for his prolonged presence.

“Tch, that’s a relief. However, I’m afraid I might also need some moral support, as you can see, your poor hero of Gotham has had a rough night.”

You smirk and raise an eyebrow but don’t deny him. You get up from your seat and move to sit next to him on the couch. Your finished notes are left forgotten on your previous chair and you dial into the show Hood was watching on the tv. “Well then, I guess it’s a good thing my hero of Gotham and I have a similar taste in tv —it makes giving moral support easier.” You feel Hood’s quiet chuckle through the vibrations of the couch, a feeling you want again and again. Jason tries not to think too hard on your use of the word ‘my’ or how it’s echoing in his head like a tantalizing mantra.

“A good thing indeed.”

“I didn’t realize vigilantes had time to pick favorite tv shows.”

“How else do you think we pass the time waiting for a store to be robbed during patrol?”

“I figured you just brooded the entire time, seeing as you costumed weirdos can never get over anything in your entire lives.”

“How rude, us weirdos do get over things, like buildings or cars when chasing down our enemies.”

“Hardy har har, I bet you think you’re clever for that one.”

“Sweetheart, I don’t think, I know I’m clever for that one.”

“So arrogant.”

“Not arrogant, confident.”

“If that’s what you want to call it, sure.” The lighthearted banter between the two of you fills the room with the warmth of familiarity. Neither of you seemed to notice how close you’d gotten to each other on instinct. Your shoulders are just brushing his and you can feel his body heat seeping into your skin. You’re fighting the urge to press closer and unbeknownst to you, Jason is doing the same. Your body and heart is begging you to rest your head against Hood’s leather-clad shoulder but you push the thoughts down in fear of making things awkward or scaring him off. Jason’s mind is running rampant with internal pleas for you to rest against him, he wants nothing more right now than to feel the comfortable weight of you against his side. But Jason doesn’t act or speak any of these thoughts into reality, worried he’ll cross a line or make you uncomfortable. So the two of you sit there on your couch for who knows how long. Mingling on the side of cuddling but not quite reaching the threshold. Both of you sit contented with the closeness and security of spending what had been a rough evening together, but silently desperate for more. But more is for a different evening, another night when Red Hood stumbles through your window.

[pnutbutter-n-j-elyy]

They Unknowingly Bring Up and Insecurity| Seungmin Pt. 2

Seungmin sat in the living room with the guys while you were in the kitchen with Lee Know preparing something for your guy's weekly hangout. You all decided on playing monopoly together, with you and Seungmin partnering up.

Bangchan carefully set up the board while Felix was handing out the money.

"Seungmin hyung." Jeongin asked as he handed his elder the thimble to him.

"Is Y/N okay? She's been really quiet. She won't even talk to me." Jeongin's face was droopy as he stuck his lip out. "I was wondering if she was upset about something?"

Seungmin took a breath and spoke quietly. His voice soft and rather sad.

"I think I said something that hurt her feelings really bad." His voice was starting to wobble a bit, and that told Jeongin all he needed to know.

"Did you say sorry?"

Seungmin nodded and his cheeks puffed out slightly as he pouted. "She said she was okay but I don't believe her."

Jeongin grabbed the hat and messed with it. "Well, what did you say to her?" He inquired.

Seungmin pulled out his phone and scrolled up to his texts with you. Which it didn't take long for him to scroll up because you hadn't been texting him as often. He only heard from you for important or urgent things, and he was missing the little random blurbs of somewhat unnecessary - but entirely endearing - information about what you were doing.

He handed his phone to Jeongin and the maknae quickly read it through.

"Hyung, you know why Y/N and her last boyfriend broke up right...?"

Seungmin shook his head and Jeongin opened his mouth to speak but you walked in with Minho with a tray of snacks.

"Did Minho teach you how to make something new?" Chan asked you. Seungmin could tell the rest of the guys had picked up on your odd silence, but you nodded.

"Kinda...he taught me how to set a charcuterie board. It's pretty."

You set it down and Jisung immediately went to go grab something.

"MMM Y/N THIS IS SO GOOD!!" He popped a piece of cheese into his mouth and his cheeks puffed up. "You need to teach me now!!"

The effort Jisung had given to get you to respond was in vain.

"Jiji, I just grabbed the cheese from a package..."

The wide eyed quokka boy scratched his neck. "Oh um. Its still good though."

Throughout the first thirty minutes of you guys playing, minimal conversation was made and Seungmin was feeling antsy.

He missed your voice.

When you stood up to go to the bathroom and go restock the snack supply all the guys turned to you.

"Seungmin apologize. I miss my baby girl..." Jisung whined.

Seungmin deadpanned and Jisung frowned. "What she was my baby girl before she became your baby girl..."

"I don't know how I'm supposed to fix it! I don't know what I did wrong really..."

"Hyung, her boyfriend broke up with her because of her tendency to overshare...and you know...talk a lot."

Seungmin's puppy eyes narrowed as his eyebrows furrowed. "What?"

"It was a stupid reason to break up really. She only told me because one time she was feeling insecure when we were hanging out and some lady told me that 'my girlfriend talked a lot'; which I told her that I wasn't dating her but also that it didn't matter because I talk a lot too." Jeongin frowned.

Seungmin blinked a few times and bit his bottom lip.

"I don't think she's upset at you Seungmin..." Changbin spoke. "From what I see it seems like she's trying not to be a burden."

"Burden?"

"She doesn't want you to break up with her so she's trying to change that aspect about herself. You're naturally a quiet person and she probably thinks she's too much for you and that you'll get tired of it."

Seungmin shook his head. "No! I could never get tired of Y/N-ie!"

Chan chuckled. "You guys really are perfect for each other." He says, marveling in his work. "But...tone doesn't translate over text."

"And you're a sarcastic motherfucker." Minho adds.

Hyunjin stretches across the floor. "You can say that again."

Jisung huffs. "Well go on and apologize! Because I want my gossip buddy back! She never finished telling me about the drama on her mom's side of the family! I was invested in which side piece got her cousin pregnant!"

Hyunjin shoots up, sniffing the drama. "Ya! Seungmin fix it! I want to know now too!"

Seungmin looked down at the board as he contemplated just how he could fix this.

Because sometimes words weren't the cure.

But actions were.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sorry for the short work 🫠. But in all the drafts of my 3 part angst series (oops theres more?) the 2nd part tends to be shorter since its the down hill of the plot.

[eamour]

method · using subliminals

today, we are talking about subliminals. believe it or not, subliminals are what actually brought me to the law of attraction and later on the law of assumption. they are already used by a large number of people, even those who don’t necessarily believe in any law.

definition

subliminal (adjective) refers to something that cannot be recognised or understood by the conscious mind but still manages to influence the subconscious. a subliminal message, for example, can only be perceived by you without you having notice or being aware of it.

in a spiritual context, subliminals (noun) signify sounds, often music with underlying positive affirmations.

intention

the purpose of subliminals is to sway your beliefs in a certain direction or change them entirely. a subliminal that purposely tries to persuade you subconsciously into believing something which you find hard to believe in consciously. in short, listening to subliminals helps you "reprogram" your mind.

how to listen

you can listen to a subliminal with your headphones, your earphones, on your phone, on your laptop, on your tablet,… all variants are just as influential.

when and where to listen

when and where you listen to a subliminal is entirely up to you. it depends on your beliefs. the moment you think you need to listen to them for them to help you manifest or materliase your desire, that’s when you should listen to them. there is no fixed time or place. you can listen whenever you want, wherever you want.

how often to listen

how often you listen to a subliminal is also entirely up to you. you can listen to one subliminal the entire a day, two subliminals at the same time, listen overnight, while doing your chores, make a playlist for the day, create a time frame for when to listen or listen to it only once — you decide! again, there is no fixed amount of times. you listen as many times as you wish to.

what to listen to

you can find subliminals on various platforms! mostly, they are free and on youtube. there, you can follow your favourite subliminal channels, create playlists and listen/loop them. you may also find subliminals on spotify, apple music, soundcloud, etc.

why it works

it doesn’t matter how many times you listen to a subliminal, how intense you listen to it or where you do it. the only thing that matters is your overall mental attitude. while listening to the sub, all you have to do is to accept its promised results to make it "work" for you. keyword: belief. belief creates and helps creating. your only job is to decide you have your desire and persist in that. for example, you could assume that you get your desires while listening to the sub and full results after listening to the entire playlist. or maybe you get full results by just listening to the first second of the sub? your rules apply only.

with love, ella.

[azulsluver]

okay bully twst au, but what if we enjoy the bullying? mc perhaps didn't get enough attention as a child and thinks even the worst attention means love?

shymaso anon

Took my sweet sweet time for this!

This could be towards canon of reader’s personality in this AU, all thoughts are welcomed though. So I’ll try my best to go through various versions if asked.

tw. yandere, bully!characters, cheating, abusive + unhealthy relationships, subtle violence, emotional dependency, degradation, drowning, stalking (cameras).

Edit: I FORGOT KALIM AND JAMIL

Welcome to the team •shymaso anon ⸂⸂⸜(രᴗര๑)⸝⸃⸃

Riddle Rosehearts trains you to be the best.

He knew you would understand him, in his own way, Riddle believes the two of you were destined as you nod and responded to his lectures.

Every mistake you took his punishments without hesitation, hands gripping at your locks as your battered face looks up at him with mercy. Letting the collar he summoned around your neck choke you blue but you cling to him like a source of light. Riddle can crumble right there and now.

You’re not making his feelings any better as soon as he learns of your past. It just encourages him to be harsher, understand that everything he did is for you, us! Riddle however, would be much generous of your tolerance. Cooing rather than yelling at you for dropping something. You mustn’t be too clumsy, Riddle expects the best performance from you after a three hour long session.

It’s kitten licks once he’s over his brutish tendencies, doting you like the perfect spouse you were meant to be. All your wounds tell a story, how rough the two of you had it (even if the injuries are yours solely), what’s a better love story? Riddle built you solely for the sake of your relationship, the moment you let yourself be known that his teachings and rules are one to be taken serious. He’s groaning in his hands by how perfect you’ve become.

Riddle makes you dance on eggshells, because you rather keep your mouth shut and let it be he takes control of every move you make, all the things you eat to wear will be supervised by him. You love him too much to say no.

Trey Clover has you under his thumb.

Doesn’t Trey know better? Of course he did, he always does. Trey understands the way your mind worked before you could, you like the way he insults you, no amount of tears can hide that familiarity of fondness from him. Like a child being sent to time out, Trey will open his arms to you after you learn your lesson.

See? He feeds you, he provides your need once your good. Because good, obedient things like you deserve nothing but his presence. Isn’t that enough, he’s enough, you really can’t get away from him either way.

When your feelings get hurt, he will dig himself into your comfort zone, find him, Trey will console you the best he can before flicking your forehead. Kiss his cheek as a thank you, he’ll remind you that no one else will do these sorts of things when times get rough. Only Trey will. So he’ll wait until you decided to show up at his doorstep.

He knows you can’t separate the difference between love and abuse, you don’t need to, all he’s worried about is getting you away from everyone else. They’re hurting you so much he’s running out of medical supplies to patch you up. Stay with him, in his arms, his home, as you eat, sleep, think, see him everyday.

Trey will gladly give you his attention, just give yourself to him. Don’t fight it, the thought never crosses your mind.

Cater Diamond comes to a conclusion.

He’s quick to pick up your behavior. Don’t call him an expert, but Cater can spot a neglected child like you a mile away. He at first would pass you by, you got a lot going on man.

Unless you attract his attention, Cater pops up once in a while to see how things are going. Let himself relax, hand supporting his head as you ramble on your day, Cater doesn’t bother to pretend he’s listening nor interested. He is however, eyeing the bruise on your neck. Cater can do a lot without interrogating or forcing you, your reluctance is adorable, keep up that nervous smile as he takes a couple of pics of your bloodied nose and forehead.

Cater considers you to be helpless, for a person to accept their loss and let the world decide whether you’ll die or live under their hands. It’s awful, but he won’t do anything to stop it. You make him think a lot. He won’t show it nor express his opinion, but Cater wonders if you know what true love is. He knows this sick obsession he has for you is nothing compared to the real thing. But you won’t complain, so he crushes your skull with his hands just to be in your personal space. That look on your face is priceless.

Years of conflict battles in his mind, should he revel his true self to you? He’s so dull, you don’t seem to care much as long as he’s speaking to you in that monotone voice. You’re so strange.

A long ride of emotions go through him, he knows you won’t laugh in his face or push his boundaries, he’s made sure of that by drilling it in your head that Cater Diamond can easily put you six feet under if you tried. You’re sweet, kissing him up and consoling him, he feels terrible that he had to push his way through when you so happily let him in.

Ace Trappola tests your loyalty.

No normal person likes to be pushed around, Ace figured you must’ve been some sort of masochist.

One of the many things he did to get on your nerves was ditch you for his group. Did he invite you to hang out? Sorry, you must have heard him wrong, but you can always latch on to them later if you’re that lonely. Ace doesn’t miss the way you take that opportunity, sticking to his side and only talking when someone asks you a question. Either that you basked in his presence.

Ace tested the waters little by little with new schemes, pushing you into tight spaced closets or putting bugs in your clothes. Forcing you to touch something be set on fire or nudge your gut too harshly to set you back into reality. And all of it, you come running back to him.

You make him feel bad, the more he has you in his arms, shaking as you beg him to not leave you over and over. How brainless can you be? Who are you to tell him what he should or shouldn’t do with you, how dare you make him sick to his stomach as he brings you closer while rubbing your back tenderly.

Don’t whine too much when he throws an arm around another person, exclaiming how pretty they are compared to you. He has no problem saying all of these things in your face if you dare look his way. Please look his way Look at how sweet the kisses are, it’s not rough and mean when he does it with you!!!

Deuce Spade tries again and again.

With Ace not mouthing his ear off, Deuce can happily hold you close to him. Your finger nails all dirty from clawing the floor and face swollen from the metal bar he used after finding you talking to someone that wasn’t him or Ace. You’re doing so good, listening to his sorries as he preps kisses on your lips.

The fear of your rejection is nonexistent, cuddling up by his side with an arm around you, you’re showing Deuce the submission he sought out for. You’re docile. And it makes him happy, you’re happy.

Deuce will promise to never hurt you again, as long as you stay by his side he will never leave you. So don’t mind if he gets angry sometimes, it’s the heat of the moment, he didn’t mean it, don’t cry he’ll wipe your tears with more promises. Deuce loves you, so, so much.

You bring yourself back, you’re getting more beat up than usual. He finds it in his heart to push you away during times like these, but you insist. He needs you just as badly as you needed him, the two of you finding comfort in one another as he runs a finger down the scars on your collarbone. The bruise ring near your throat has him in a trance. Your body knows and accepts it.

Unfortunately you accept Deuce. You could say the blind leading the blind fits perfectly.

Leona Kingscholar lets you stick around.

Are you throwing yourself at him? Do you seek his attention purely for your own desire, Leona can see the way your eyes shine brighter after seeing him. Does his cold nature entice you, does it make you lean close to his claws as they scratch at your cheeks and chin?

Leona’s tail will fester in a slow yet excited tempo, each time you come back to him after he tells you to fuck off just to bring him a snack. He guess he can entertain you for a while, just don’t get used to it, he has better things to do than playing babysitter with you. ….Oh come back, it was a joke, can’t take humor well now he sees.

Sing him his praises, tell him how handsome he is even when he points out your flaws. Snuggle against his palm like you crave the hurt, his fangs snarling when you pull back. Leona won’t deny it any longer, such a sweet thing is too good to pass up. You don’t run away when he gets too rough, Leona has to remind himself how fragile magicless toys are, he’s not looking to break you so early on. Not that he needs to, you don’t seem to search for any sort of attention but his.

You must remember that Leona can’t always be there to keep you in check. Going days without seeing you, when needed that look, his hands on you in whichever way, bend and twist till you felt like screaming.

Patience is key, Leona decided it’s better that you stay with him, only. There isn’t any reason to leave, he’s got everything covered, so don’t listen when he whispers to you in the dead of night that he’ll toss you once you serve it’s purpose. It’s a way for you to tightly wrap your arms around him with a cry.

Ruggie Bucchi is complexed of your relationship.

If it weren’t for his fondness of you, Ruggie would have left you to fend for yourself. He’s putting in effort, alright, Ruggie doesn’t have time to be at your side everyday of the hour. You stress him out so bad.

He keeps to himself about his feelings regarding of your relationship with everyone else, as Ruggie makes himself of some use, the back of his mind tells him he isn’t enough. It should be a good thing! You’re getting the attention you crave, but Ruggie wants to be your attention, so he gets more aggressive with you. Ruggie often drifts to what more can he be than your side job of a babysitter. When it becomes too much he’ll ghost you for a couple of weeks to calm down.

Ruggie never thought he would find himself with you of all people, he’s so use to pushing you away, only interacting with you since you cry too much or Leona told him to check up on you. He’s angry at you for messing with him, you must forget who’s in charge of the situation (he’s expressing himself here).

In a perspective, Ruggie is cleaning up everyone’s mess, you, you’re getting the privilege of being a pain and no one is stopping you. Ruggie wants to stop you, not that he cares for your well being, but extra work isn’t rewarding him…..enough. You thank Ruggie for tending to your wounds but never ask him to talk about his day. Being under the food chain is nothing, but to you, doesn’t he deserve a better place than that?

Choosing him will make him annoyed, cheesy, yet annoyed. How much longer must he play pretend until you lay your head on his chest and indicate his love for you. Ruggie would rather eat mouthfuls of dirt before confessing. You make his head hurt, so he goes back to distancing until he’s ready to deal with you again.

Jack Howl swears to change.

It’s like a slap to the face. Whether you directly or hint it to him, Jack feels like the worst person in all of Twisted Wonderland. He’s supposed to be good, not bad and treat you like shit.

Your belief of any sort of attention is love, bad love, is good enough—Jack will have a meltdown. Did he not succeed to make you comfortable? He prides it in himself to change your views, Jack will show you what love is. But it’s not easy when he’s too shy to hold your hand. He has to be pushed in the situation to even touch you, you’ll take it the wrong way of him not wanting to touch you at all, that’s not true!

Protecting you is his job, not full time. If he could, Jack sets rules for you, one is to stop interacting with anyone that hurts you. Don’t show him that blissed expression after being tugged and called a bitch, it makes his tail stiff. It’s degrading, and he’s not the one being degraded. You make him feel like a joke, his actions aren’t enough that you actively search for more of that abuse, Jack would kill you.

He isn’t perfect on the ideally healthy relationship. He slips up time to time when it comes to your well being. He swears he knows best, because you’re just a fuck up that let’s everyone walk on you. He’s doing it again-he’s being mean; all is forgiven when he’s holding his head to your lap as he mutter an apology.

Jack may not have a good grip of your problem, but he wished you seek him out other than their abusive behavior. Jack is good if you’re happy and he thinks you did good. Focused on his happiness, you’re a little addicted to his controlling energy, just don’t say it to his face.

Azul Ashengrotto finds you in pathetic.

Fucked up trauma and you decided to come for him to cope. Azul is nerved by this fact, who enjoys suffering the worst kinds of attention, you’re clearly not loved enough, where is your respect??

Azul will blabber on, as if he’s not walking into your little world of misfortune. Sneering your way and rolling his eyes, it makes you attach to him in an instant. Is that attractive to you, to be an asshole who walks over you as a crumb of attention. Through all the scoffing and insults, Azul falls deeper to fill in that hole. Let his hand tighten around your forearm for getting in his way. Or getting in your personal space and accusing you of being a pervert. Just keep seeking out for him, he’s hungry to indulge unintentionally.

As a NORMAL person, Azul begs the Gods to stop him from continuing this madness. You plague him, and it’s insane he lets this continue any further. He should’ve stopped you, himself, anything from calling you a nauseous to pretty in seconds.

But you keep bothering him, finding a way to be at his side. He doesn’t push you away, warning you to make the best out of his time before he decides to do something more important than pleasing your desperate self. His doors are always open to you.

If you want it so badly then fine. Azul, behind closed doors, will allow you to look at him, touch him, put your head on his thigh as his index rub circles around the fading bruise on your neck. Glance up at him lovingly, thank him for giving such good attention. Azul can purr under all this affection.

Jade Leech is all too happy.

You accept every slap on the wrist as a necessity. Your wrong doings of not giving Jade his usual attention span, taking it with tears threatening to fall from your puffy eyes. You know not to cry because he’ll make it a big deal, wipe your tears and accept his love.

Without a doubt, Jade isn’t afraid to confess to you, fingers dragging against the marked skin of teeth that blossoms a deep and dark color. He does it because he loves you, you know? Isn’t this what you’re use to, his love taps are a reminder, he loves yoouu. Listen to him tell you how much he wishes to leave you in the crashing waves of the sea, that’s just him telling you how you aren’t strong enough to care for yourself.

Jade wants you to realize that you aren’t capable of making it on your own, he’s your proof of it. Be sweet and let him pinch your cheeks for taking his procedures so well.

What a poor thing to sap on his abusive techniques, Jade wonders if you truly enjoy the attention, how far is it to love before you’re screaming for him to stop and let you go? Is it until what little is left of your self respect that has you begging for him to look at you? Jade is happy to do so, you’re so entertaining to have around!

Be aware, since Jade fully understands how you react to his actions he’ll have no issue stripping it away. Mommy didn’t praise you enough; so he won’t tell you how good you did for letting him dunk your head in water. Daddy never apologized after a fight; he won’t even leave you a note and remind you how undeserving you are to him.

Floyd Leech makes the most of it.

A darling that throws itself at him isn’t that bad, Floyd can make use of it. You’re just lucky you’re so cute and biteable. If you run for him and let him chase you it may last, catching him pent up to the point he wanted to rip your tendons isn’t though.

Floyd constantly calls for you when he wakes up, have you by his side when he sleeps. His attention is overwhelming, don’t go complaining this late, you’re far too gone the rabbit hole.

What other factors does it come with? Don’t be boring on him now, make Floyd work for it, make him confused, surprised, intrigued. Spice it up by hesitating when he questions if he can get inside your rib cage. Your face is the highlight of his day, shrimpy knows how to please him. Floyd will outright confess his gratitude for you, it’s him calling you out for your own unhealthy coping, down to each flaw and how it makes you more enjoyable.

He’s great at reading the room it’s just he doesn’t put that knowledge to use with you, whether you can put up with it during a long period of time Floyd is there to terrorize you until you had enough. He’s a hundred percent positive you would get fed up, having to live in fear he would get aggressive, or sweet, it depends.

With so many choices and your endless possibilities of a reaction Floyd is like a child receiving their first ever birthday gift. It’s new each time. It gives him something different to experiment, he’s not stopping yet before you get on your knees and beg him to leave you be.

Vil Schoenheit takes advantage of you.

This is exactly what Vil feared. He doesn’t know if he should enjoy this or correct you, not when you seek him out like he so badly wishes he can do. Vil envies you, if he didn’t have a reputation to uphold he would smother you to death with his unhealthy dose of love, you’ll like it.

Vil finds it hard to be rough with you, not getting on his nerves and you openly encourage him to do more. To be Vil’s comfort is embarrassingly giddy when he thinks of it at night, he was keen on the thought that he wouldn’t go so low to let you eat it. His attention that is. But stopping anytime soon is not easy, he can just eat you up for making him act like some rabid animal.

This means Vil can take out his frustration on you without you begging for him to kill you. A sane person would’ve insulted him till their last dying breath, that he’s a monster for even picking on the weak. Naturally, someone like you shudders at Vil’s remarks.

Vil wants YOU to be desperate for his attention, not the other way around. Treat him like a God, grovel on your knees and kiss him up. Don’t mind the way he discreetly rolls his eyes to the back of his head with a hand covering his mouth. His words are mean and untrue, pushing his heeled shoe on your head so you don’t look up at him. Not yet.

Who knows who’s gaining what in this situation. You’re getting what you wanted, and so is he, in a farther abnormal substance. Vil has your deprived mind in his greedy hands, directing you his reasons as to why he does things. Factually, someone like him shouldn’t have to explain to the likes of you.

Rook Hunt declares his innocence.

Rook would never hurt you! Everything he does is from the honesty of his heart, it’s not his fault you can’t take criticism. Oh but you do, you try to change and Rook notices that.

A tube of lipstick can do a lot on a person, once you listen on his advice Rook is smitten. The hurt in your eyes and the next day you’re looking up to him for approval. He sighs with a hand on his chin, it wouldn’t hurt to tell you that the color looked alright. You can always touch up on your brows once and a while you know. Rook loves this side of you. He loves every expression and attitude you throw his way, you make his time so enduring.

He’s always greeting you with open arms and grabby hands, burying his nose in your hair to take a deep inhale of your scent. You smell different, new shampoo? Or did you hang around another person? Rook will try to ignore the subtle threat in his gut, as much as he adores this quirky behavior of yours, letting you be used as a pawn isn’t in his favor. He can admire from afar but he’ll want the real thing with him sooner or later.

See, Rook isn’t like those viscous things. He can treat you just like them if you ask nicely. But he’s too busy grabbing your face and rubbing his cheeks against yours. “Your skin is a little oily”— while blushing madly, the thought of your dead skin cells are touching his makes him merry.

He’s gross, but don’t comment on it too often, can’t you appreciate his affection and kindness. He’s not tearing you apart after all, he can hold himself better! Rook wants to let himself be free with you, but doing so will make you run no matter how much you reassure him of your decision. For now, let him play with your emotions for a while, show him more of what you can give him. It’s fair.

Epel Felmier loves you to death.

Epel can suffer through it. You don’t know what you’re doing to him, giving him the thumbs up when he tugs at your hair to face his way. What a sicko!!

He won’t shy from it, a little, but he’s precise on his feelings. Whispering in your ear how disgusting you are for exploiting yourself to other men and women. You love the attention don’t you? Epel can provide that for you, he can do anything to prove to you that he’s better than the others. So stop looking at them and kiss him better as an apology if you wanna start…

Are you enjoying the attention or is he? Epel is clingier, his grip on your fingers hurt because he’s too busy announcing his future with you. A nice little thing waiting at his beck and call, allowing him to degrade you when his days are busy and rough. He’s going off, you’re not sure if you like the idea but it makes him happy. You need him happy or he’ll make sure you don’t get any sort of attention.

Epel needs to be in check, he’s still young about love and how it works. Since he’s so stubborn it’s difficult for anyone to tell him off, calling your partner a dumbass because you didn’t pick up his thick accent isn’t very nice.

Typically, he goes to his elders for help. Epel has a hunch that you being okay with all of this isn’t normal. They all tell him differently on how to handle you, make the best of it or be more strict in case you’re trying to trick him. Any type of lying is met with his fist to your gut…. He’ll give you a kiss on the cheek and apple slices as an apology once he finds out you actually love him back.

Erratic, one might say, Epel thinks with his heart than head, much like Deuce. He has a problem with controlling his emotions, it’s overwrought to be this depressing over you and himself. If you can survive Epel’s errors of ways he might just put a ring on that finger.

Idia Shroud bites more than he can handle.

Gwaah, you’re so miserable he has to look the other way at how embarrassing you are. Seriously, Idia is mean, sure, but that’s because you can’t stand up for yourself. Will he be able to? Only the future will tell, but he’ll just respond with the fact it didn’t happen so it’s not his problem.

All the yapping but he’s keeping you locked in his arms as he plays games for the next three hours. Pinching at your side to stop you from squirming, he reminds you that YOU wanted this. Idia personally believes that you accepting his weird behavior makes you a weirdo but 10x worse, in reality he’s stabbing his nails against the palms of his hands from exploding. His hair gives it away.

You’re not like a cat, a cat would hiss and scratch from all the abuse you’ve been through. Rather a wet dog that comes crawling with the hunger of love, no matter what kind. Even if that love hits you, tells you how little worth you are, it’s love in some way because he’s watching you through the cameras. You have to be teasing him for how many times you call out his name during your naps. He’s so glad you took in the plushies, your face is worth a shit ton once he gets Azul to bargain a pay.

Idia will deny you of attention, it’s so embarrassing to come up to him of all people. Don’t say weird things out loud in public will you? It freaks him out, he’s a loser at heart but that’s because he respects privacy (not yours though).

Behind closed doors he’ll gradually open up to you, it’s more than he can handle when you’re so eager to have him around. Idia will learn to enjoy the attention, it won’t soothe his heart nor the bursting of flames of his hair that tickles your skin every time you hug him after he degrades you. You’re going to be the death of him.

Malleus Draconia spoils you rotten.

Searching for that nasty push and shove isn’t on his list. Malleus, confused as to why you enjoy being bossed and thrown around like some ragdoll. If it makes you happy….he guess he can play along.

Malleus pays attention to your body language, what makes you squirm into his arms when he tells you he’d gauge your eyes out for looking at another person. Not that he would do so, he likes your eyes so much! Malleus prances around on your idea of the ideal relationship. You’re scraping whatever he gives you, Malleus is showing you all of it. He’s happy you feel the same.

He doesn’t correct you, because he himself doesn’t see the problem of the two of you, it’s love, let it be. With no one to tell him, Malleus is selfish of your free will. You always let him touch you, hold you, bruise you (accidentally). You’re practically letting him eat from your hand as he does with you, if you like getting hurt he’ll let his nails leave trails of scars on your back. But tell him you like it, he wants to know he’s doing good.

You won’t be needing anybody else’s attention but Malleus, he takes up most of your time and day. You’ll be taken with him at this point, that is if you willingly move in with him. Malleus grows more paranoid each day seeing that you run around looking for more, greedy thing, he’ll hold back so much before locking you up forever.

Praise him. Malleus returns everything you do, all met with luxury as long as you stay by his side. If you stop responding to him he isn’t a happy camper, look, look at him, do you want to get roughed up?? You won’t mouth a thing so he might as well show you how far his patience wears.

Lilia Vanrouge plays it like normally.

You bring something new to Lilia like a box of chocolates. Why wouldn’t you want his love, it’s all tease until he grows bored enough to put his hands on you.

Lilia juggles your inexperience self in a loop, he’s keeping you on your toes. He can’t scold you when you find it deserving, he wants you to know it’s intentional, being mean that is. Just because he’s looking you up and down doesn’t mean it’s good, no. Lilia will train your mind to recognize the difference of rewarding you for the sake of your sanity and punishing you for doing bad.

Don’t take his word for granted, Lilia absolutely loves it when you coddle up to him, you cling to his every word and do silly tricks without asking. Your oblivious nature to his cruelty entertains him, there isn’t any backing down or settling less once he takes notice of your questionable quirks. In fact Lilia is sure he’s seen these types of response before, poor things handed to the wrong people, as if he’d make himself better for your sake.

Getting a little too deep with your private background, Lilia is curious as to what makes you nostalgic. Were any of your parents present? Did they look over your achievements, your hobbies, the things you like and dislike to eat? Would you cry on his shoulder if he asked? Lilia wants all the answers, so he can see and mirror that exact moment. He’s just a little nicer about it, it’s all jokes remember that.

Silver makes you see differently.

You don’t find the time for the Silver haired man. He speaks to the animals and sleeps most of the time, there isn’t much to look for. Silver however, tries his best to stay awake when you come around. Looking more presentable and making small talk when you decide to speak to him and not his father or Sebek.

When you’re so used to it, you expect the worst to happen. Falling and breaking your nose, but Silver gracefully catches you before you fall. Like the fairytales you use to read as a child, it feels like a dream being held so gently and cared for. Silver would randomly send you notes from a dove, often times telling you how nice your hair looked or that your smile is pretty. Once consumed by the dirty look and pinches you’ll crave Silvers voice.

He bids you farewell on days you want to be left alone, to isolate and cry for hours. He waits patiently by your door with a nice homemade meal he learned from a book. Silver is the definition of comfort. You’re saying that probably because it’s genuine affection, not that you’ll know any better.

Your body is always somehow mangled or damaged, noticeable, yet Silver doesn’t berate you for letting it happen. Instead he takes your hands in his and pull them close to his mouth as he tells you to stay with him. He won’t let them hurt you. He promises. Promises are silly, but you couldn’t help but nod.

Silver will take what he knows from his father about love. If it meant locking hiding you for your sake then be it. You’re like danger magnet, Silver will defend you to the best of his capabilities. Your Prince Charming is all you could ask for, through the guilt he feels, stuck in his throat because he knows what he’s doing isn’t right. Your’e too far gone to see it, soon, he will too.

Sebek Zigvolt gives in to your delusions.

Clueless. Someone has to tell him in his face and maybe write it down, Sebek doesn’t read too well with humans oddity. Sebek does acknowledge your submissive character, he refuse to praise it though.

Going for him is super easy, Sebek is yelling most of the time and has his hands somewhere on you while he’s at it. No one butts in to stop him, he’s a little slow when you act all meek and agree without a hint of sarcasm. The irony of it. Sebek continuously falls for your trap, once he puts the pieces together you’re in for it.

At first he’s real smug about it, as expected you come to him of all people for attention, Sebek is great at socializing! Second, don’t forget who has the upper hand, he’ll dangle it around but the bait will fall in. Sebek tries to be the mastermind behind it, but he’s not successful enough if he keeps giving you exactly what you’re after. He slaps himself every time it happens, self control is important in a knight, so he stays by your side with the intention of ignoring you.

But that doesn’t work out, you make him so pissed he’s not even sure why!? Looking at him all needy, your scent is overwhelming too when was the last time you showered? (He deeply inhales whenever he gets the chance). You’re purposely trying to get him to fail his lesson. A lesson he made up entirely.

Doing nothing is something to him. Being near him is setting him off. He’s straightening his posture and giving you his best glare. And without thinking he’s opening his big fat mouth to lecture you,.

[babacontainsmultitudes]

🤔 Admittedly I was a little disappointed by the reveal (but certainly not surprised the foreshadowing was heavy in this episode lol), but not actually against how Beth (and Will) seem to be playing with it thus far- which is to say that I do think it has a lot of potential, and I suspect there's more to what we're seeing).

;) Big ol' ramble below

Mostly the theory has turned me off until now (at least insofar as I've witnessed it transpire in the fandom at large) because it struck me as so painfully ironic to see Trudy, a 1950s housewife, struggle to exist under the system that she's in, fail to fit the mold assigned to her, and be denied her personhood very literally for it (this being ironic insofar as how it mimics how she would have been treated back then). This and because frankly I just think she's a lot less interesting if she's fully a robot LOL, but I'll hopefully get to that in a bit.

Not that the hints at her mechanical nature and the relevance of Tucker's background were lost on me; I can appreciate why those would contribute to a plausible, fun and I think still mostly harmless theory (now fact). However, minus one or two specific posts I've seen on the matter (namely a recent one suggesting that if Trudy is a robot Beth is probably taking inspiration from The Stepford Wives, :( sorry person who made that post I couldn't find it I wanted to credit yoouuu), I've seen the theory just about exclusively presented in a manner that, rather than explore the metaphorical and political significance of Trudy being partially or fully mechanical, at best disregards the parts of her narrative that are at their core about sexism (among other related things), and at worst negates them entirely (i.e. Trudy only thinking and acting how she does because she's a robot malfunctioning and not because the world itself is causing harm and she rightfully wants something more than the role she was forced into, Trudy not even having any real thoughts and feelings of her own, etc.). I just think it kind of sucks to shove all those important things about her aside and say "actually, there's no person suffering here, she's just a robot" and perhaps worse yet to imply that she does have thoughts and feelings but because they result in Weird™ behavior it must be a problem with her code and not at all relate to what women were subjugated to during this point in American history.

CONVERSELY I don't think Trudy being a robot (or at least partially one) at least from what Beth and Will have presented us thus far, inherently suffers from any of these issues? First and foremost because Trudy definitely appears to possess sentience, thoughts, and emotions of her own, matters which immediately complicate her degree of personhood and don't inherently box her behavior in as a bug in her programming rather than an issue with the world she's been put in, quite the opposite in fact! I think they have a very solid groundwork laid out here to make a strong statement with Trudy's narrative (and perhaps ask the question of what is really malfunctioning here), all the more so since [I pull out a Rebecca Swallows-style conspiracy board] I don't think she's entirely robotic in nature? Actually you should just read Mack's tags in this post cause he has great thoughts on the matter (of which those are just some of them), but if I can direct your attention to one thing in particular, it would be Beth's fact (I *believe* from episode 2) about Trudy never graduating high school because of her essay where she suggested that "perhaps women could one day domesticate themselves", a statement that could of course be interpreted a number of ways but ultimately threatened the patriarchal status quo enough (in suggesting women's independence) to cost Trudy her diploma. Taken on its own this fact appears to contradict the theory that Trudy has always been robotic in nature, because it doesn't really make sense that Trudy would have been set up to go through high school (or school at all really) when Tucker's intention was/is for her to be the perfect housewife. You may then suggest that Trudy's memories of this are fabricated and not actually her lived experiences, in which case firstly perhaps you should reread my earlier point on the robot theory being used to actively negate and otherwise disregard the portions of Trudy's narrative that pertain to sexism and feminism, and secondly it really doesn't make any sense to me that Tucker would implant those kind of memories into Trudy's brain? To be completely honest if she's been a robot from the very beginning (rather than someone who became a cyborg, which is what I'm trying to suggest here), then I don't see why Tucker would program her with actual sentience in the first place (suspending my disbelief here with regards to the possibility of programming sentience to begin with). It seems much more likely to me then that Trudy was not always a robot, and instead altered by Tucker to force her into a role of subordination and remedy her """imperfections""". This option is significantly more interesting to me one, because it implies that Trudy has actually lived a life up until the present, full of its own complexities and strife (and dreams, and real actual memories worth exploring, etc.), and hence is not by any means "just a robot", and second because it amplifies the hypothetical statement being made on the lives of the real living women of the era and how they were treated and seen as being "in need of fixing" for not conforming to gender roles or otherwise acting "out of line" with what was expected of them.

OKAY THIS GOT OUT OF HAND SO I'M CUTTING MYSELF OFF HERE but I wanted to my share my current thoughts what with this ending and where I'm at so hopefully that was at least interesting to whoever has chosen to read through this one okay thank you byyyyyyyyye~