#and i was just starting to feel real stupid while stoned and was just kinda oooover it

[misty-missdee]

1st week being done smoking weed has come and gone. Only had a couple urges, but my willpower is kinda stacked so it's all good.

I've been a little more anxious in general, but it's been nice not feeling like a huge dumb dumb and teleporting forward through time.

I packed all my stuff away this evening finally too. It's a little sad, but again if I'm going to focus enough to get out of this forsaken desert it's just how it's gotta be.

[rafesaddiction]

It's still not cheating when he's your enemy – Rafe Cameron x Pogue!Reader (Part 2)

see here for part 1 and here for part 2.5

Summary: You just want to make a living, but Rafe Cameron keeps showing up and disturbing you while you're working. He's so damn annoying – and hot.

Concept: enemies, Who did this to you?

Warnings: mdni! – smut, rough sex, p in v, cheating (reader cheats on boyfriend), aggression, violence, manhandling, choking, cursing, name calling (reader is called a whore), mentions of assault (not by rafe), mean!rafe, also dark!rafe and protective!rafe

Word count: 4.7k

tagging those who asked for a part 2 @sublimepenguinpeach-blog @niyahwhoreworld @luvagirlsworld @elizzzzz143 @ghostlycrystobalove @fabienne6656 @noodle81937 @sadexact @marauderssmut @daydreamerblues I hope you'll enjoy this.

“I knew that ass looked familiar!”

You frowned as you heard that dark voice behind you, but you didn't turn around. You pretended not to have heard anything and went on scrubbing the wall with the sponge. You were kinda good at that – not at the scrubbing, but at ignoring catcalls. You had suffered like a lot in the last 30 minutes or so alone. At least half of the dozen cars that had passed behind you on the street had honked at you while you had been trying to clean some graffiti off the supposedly historical wall of this supposedly historical building. They wouldn't let you use any hard chemicals (not that you could've afforded them) to get rid off the paint because they would destroy the precious stone, or whatever. So cleaning the wall took ages. Sadly you were not paid by the hour, but by results alone. The graffiti was actually some insulting – and very true – statement about kooks. You thought that the handwriting looked somewhat familiar. And you almost suspected your boyfriend’s best friend to be the unknown author. You could almost hear him say that he did this on purpose just to create jobs, which was absolutely stupid, and therefore could've been true.

“Hey!” that voice again, and you rolled your eyes, unseen by the one addressing you. You still didn’t turn around to the car that was driving by slowly. And now it seemed to have stopped. You heard a car door open, but you ignored that too as you bent down to soak the sponge in the bucket of water, which was almost black by now from the paint and the dirt from the wall.

It was still early morning, not too hot, but cleaning this damn wall was hard work, and a light film of sweat had gathered on your forehead. You wiped it away with the back of your hand, before stretching your arms high above your head to start scrubbing again. The foamy water ran along your bare arms. You were wearing a cropped top and jeans shorts. You should’ve worn gloves to protect the skin on your hands from the cleanser, you thought, when you heard that voice again. So close, it made you freeze and your breath hitched.

“Did no one ever tell you it’s impolite not to answer when spoken to?”

A shiver you tried to ignore ran down your spine as you felt his presence so very close behind you. You couldn't help but close your eyes for a moment, when you smelled his scent; his dark, expensive cologne filling your lungs, your senses, and as if your body remembered, light goosebumps covered your skin – and you felt that throbbing between your legs.

“Or do you think I'm just a daydream?”

The arrogant tone in his voice drove you mad. You opened your eyes, your jaw clenched, but you continued staring at the wall.

Whereas before you had only felt his presence, you could now feel his touch. He was standing directly behind you, his chest brushing against your back as he leaned closer, his face next to yours, his lips moved close to your ear, while one of his hands found the exposed skin on your stomach. His long fingers slowly travelled under your top, shoving it up.

“I promise I'm real,” he whispered into your ear.

You shuddered, his hand cupping the underside of your breast, and you hated how your body reacted, how your traitorous nipples perked up, how your stupid legs got wobbly. You involuntarily let out a moan as his lips found your skin, touching that very sensitive spot under your ear.

You couldn't have this, not here on a public street in broad daylight, and not with him, not with Rafe fucking Cameron.

You spun around, saw a smug grin on his ridiculously handsome face and shoved the wet sponge right into his arrogant face – and you again wished that you'd have been able to afford more aggressive chemicals.

“What the fuck!” He exclaimed, moved a step back, rubbing his face, blinking, and looking at you both angry and in confusion, his mouth slightly open, his head tilted to the side, as if he expected you to explain your behavior to him when his behavior had been anything than appropriate or normal!

You looked at him with a little triumphant grin on your lips. But your small victory didn't last long.

His hand shot to your throat, gripping it so hard, your back was forcefully pushed against the wall, making you wince. Your hands wrapped around his arm, trying to fight him off, already struggling to breathe. And on top of that, his sudden proximity overwhelmed all your senses as his body was caging you in, making you feel his power over you. The look on Rafe's face was menacing; his brows furrowed, his eyes darkened, he seemed ready to kill.

Rafe moved so close that you felt his breath on your face, brushing against your skin. You could do nothing but gaze at him as you struggled to get out of his grip, in vain.

But suddenly Rafe's tense features changed. His eyes widened for a moment, then narrowed and he tilted your head to the side, inspecting your face, to be precise inspecting the left side of your face. And you knew what he was looking at.

“Who did this to you?”

He was looking at the bruise on your left cheek. Not just cheek, the black and blue mark covered almost half your face, from your eye to your jaw.

Rafe let go off your throat, placing both his palms on either side of your head on the wall. He was in fact caging you in now.

“No one,” you snapped, scowling at him. You tried to cover the bruise with your hair, but Rafe didn't allow it. He grabbed your wrist, held it, made you flinch at his strength. He would probably leave his own mark there.

“Bullshit,” he growled. “Tell me. Who did this? Your boyfriend?”

You detected something strange in his voice, but you couldn't quite place it, it sounded almost like he was being cautious, which was ridiculous. Rafe Cameron was never cautious or hesitant with his words. And despite that somewhat strange tone in his voice, it was commanding and he seemed to believe that he was entitled to get an explanation from you.

“No!” You frowned at him and managed to pull your hand free, so you could use both your hands to shove him away – or try to. He didn't move an inch while your hands lay on his broad chest. You could feel the hard muscles underneath his shirt. You could feel his rapid heartbeat. His chest rising and falling as he stared at you intensely.

“Like you would care anyway��” Your voice soft and unsteady.

You expected him to say something disregarding like that he didn't give a fuck and that would end this conversation – this tense situation. But he didn't. Rafe looked at you with a stern expression and when he spoke, there wasn't even a hint of mockery in his voice.

“Who did this to you?” He asked again.

There was something so earnest in his tone that you just looked at him, stunned, for a second. You felt your heart beat so violently, it felt like he must have heard it too.

You bit your lips and averted your gaze.

But Rafe wouldn't let you. His fingers under your chin, guided your face, made you look at him. And he gazed at you. His blue eyes so dark, so intense, they were penetrating you. And you shuddered.

“My landlord,” you answered his question, unable to resist his demanding tone any longer.

Rafe didn't say anything, but looked at you, waiting for you to continue.

You felt a lump in your throat and your voice sounded weak when you spoke more.

“I couldn't pay the rent and he ‘suggested' another form of payment. But I –” The fresh memory made your voice trail off and you felt tears gathering in your eyes.

“Did you?” His voice was low.

“No!” You glared at him, some of that familiar anger returning and making your voice stronger. “I'm not a whore!”

Rafe's words from the other night were still clear in your mind and fueled your rage anew. You tensed up and suddenly realized that your hands were clawing at his shirt. You kept them there and you looked Rafe straight into the eyes when you continued, “I told him to shove it and kicked him in the balls.”

Was that a hint of a smirk on Rafe's lips?

“But when I tried to get away, he gripped my hair, yanked me about and smacked my face against the doorframe. I wriggled out of his grip and ran. End of story.”

You gave Rafe's chest a shove and this time he moved a little back. So you ducked under his arm and walked off.

But you didn't get far.

His hand caught your wrist. He spun you around and you slumped against his chest, gasping in surprise before his lips covered yours.

You reacted without thinking. Your mouth opened, your lips moved against his. It was pure impulse, so strong you couldn't resist. You felt his strong hand grabbing the back of your neck as he kissed you, kissed you deeply.

Waves and waves of intense electric tension were rushing through your body. For a moment you felt like you could let your guard down and just melt into his touch, melt against his body.

But you couldn't let that happen. This was never going to happen. The harshness of reality woke you up.

You pulled back and smacked his cheek with your hand, so hard, so loud, your palm burned.

Rafe looked at you, his lips parted – so dangerously close to yours…

“I could give you the money –”

His features were so soft, and the way he looked at you, it made your chest tighten and you felt your tears returning.

“Fuck you! I told you I’m no whore! I'm no one's whore! Not his and certainly not YOURS!” You screamed those words right at his face.

And Rafe just stood there. He did not attempt to grab you again, to pull you close, to kiss you, to hold you...

He just stood there and looked at you. Then his mouth closed and he nodded and his lips moved again, but you couldn't hear what he was saying, as if he was talking to himself. And then he just turned around and walked away, got into his jeep and drove off.

And you exhaled, and all tension fell from your body. You were shivering and no longer held those tears back. You cried out and a passing driver looked at you in confusion and you yelled after him to fuck off and kicked at the water bucket – and regretted it a second later. You would have to get fresh water and then start working again. You had wasted more than enough time already. Because of Rafe fucking Cameron.

***

A few days later.

“What you doing here?”

Fuck, was he everywhere? You looked up from your phone and saw Rafe Cameron on his dirt bike, just having taken off his helmet, smoothing down his hair with his free hand – and grinning at you.

You glared at him and focused on your phone again, leaning with your back against the shop window. You tried your best to ignore him, hoping that he would for once get the hint.

It had been only three days since your last encounter; the bruise was still showing on your face, the cheap make up you had wasn't enough to cover it completely, but you had arranged your hair in a way that hid most of it – at least you hoped it did.

“Waiting for clients?” Rafe’s voice sounded closer. Obviously he hadn’t taken the hint.

You didn't look up, but you could see and feel his shadow on you. He had gotten off his bike and walked over to you.

“Fuck off, asshole. I have no time for your bullshit.”

You looked up from your phone to glare at him.

He stood directly in front of you, had stopped about two feet away. It annoyed you how much your body already reacted to his presence. Your skin buzzing without his hands even touching it.

Rafe's hand moved to his head, combing through his hair.

“What are you doing here?” You hoped you sounded as annoyed as you were.

“Buying a new 8-iron.”

You knitted your eyebrows.

“So what are you doing here? All dressed up – like that,” Rafe asked, pointing at your outfit.

You had to admit it was an unusual look for you. You were wearing a white blouse, all buttoned up, and a black pencil skirt reaching to your knees, the fabric stiff and making your thighs itch. It wasn't yours. You had to borrow that skirt from your neighbor.

~~~

When you walked over to your neighbor's door that morning, you looked around nervously, making sure not to accidentally run into your landlord. You wouldn't want to repeat that kind of encounter, especially not today when you had a job interview for a position at a stationery shop on main street. One of those fancy-ass shops where kook parents bought school supplies for their spoiled offspring. With school starting in a few weeks, they had a new position to fill. Though it was just temporary, it was good money, and maybe even a chance for something permanent.

“Try this on, I think it might fit.” Your neighbor held out a black skirt from her closet, handing it to you.

You were standing in her small bedroom, trying not to step on the stuff scattered on the floor. You pulled down your shorts and put on the skirt and frowned at the image of the young woman in the mirror. You did not like it at all, but the skirt looked like something someone working at a kook stationery shop would wear, so it would do.

You thanked your neighbor and were about to leave when you remembered that it had been days since you had last seen your landlord, which was unusual, since he was always lurking around, sitting by the empty pool, shouting at kids or harassing his female tenants. Your neighbor always knew the latest gossip, so you just asked her about his whereabouts.

“Haven't you heard?”

“Heard what?” You frowned at her in confusion.

“He got run over by a car three days ago.”

“Oh,” you said. “Is he alive?” You knew it was bad to wish someone ill, but part of you couldn't help hoping for the worst.

“Barely. He's in intensive care. Can't move a single bone in his body. His jaw is completely crushed.”

“By the car?”

“No. After he'd been hit, the driver got out of the car and beat him up. With a golf club.”

You raised your eyebrows. “With a golf club?”

She nodded.

“And did they, did the police catch whoever…?”

She shook her head. “Strange thing. No one saw anything. Though it happened in broad daylight. On the street right in front of our compound.”

“Huh,” you said.

“Yep,” she shrugged, folding clothes and putting them back into her closet. “And he can't remember anything, he says. Well, he can hardly speak with that fractured jaw. Only liquid diet for him for the next couple of weeks and I guess he won't be around that soon.”

~~~

“I have a job interview, if you must know.”

You put your phone away and pressed your now empty palms against the cool glass behind you.

“A job interview?” Rafe cocked his head.

“Yeah. You know, some people actually do have to get jobs and work for a living.”

You expected him to snap or at least frown at you, but he just grinned.

“So you're nervous?”

You glared at him. “What do you want?”

He chuckled and lifted his hands in a defensive way. “What? Can't I just make friendly conversation?”

The frown on your forehead deepened, your muscles tensing so much, it hurt your damn bruise.

“We are no friends.”

“True,” he shrugged, but he still didn't leave. He just stood there and looked at you. You wondered if he didn't have to be somewhere, but didn't bother to ask, because obviously, the answer would be ‘No'.

You crossed your arms in front of your chest and turned your head in another direction.

Your foot was tapping on the ground, because, yes, you were fucking nervous. This was important and Rafe Cameron standing there and staring at you like that made you nervous in another kind of way. But you couldn't have that now. Or ever.

“I could help you relax, you know.”

Your head spun around to face him, and he looked like he actually meant it.

You glared at him, but fuck, your traitorous body reacted in an instant. Your skin was buzzing, you felt a restlessness that had nothing to do with being nervous about the interview.

“When's the interview?”

You checked the time on your phone. “Twenty minutes.”

“Ah, not nearly enough time,” he said with that cocky grin.

Why the hell could you practically feel his voice crawling under your skin when he was just standing there?

You pressed your legs together, and feeling the rough fabric of that damn skirt on your skin made you even more itchy.

And Rafe just stood there and he looked so fucking handsome, almost sweet with his baby-blue polo shirt, those fucking curtain bangs and that smile. His hand casually touched his lips, effectively drawing your attention to both his lips and those fingers – god, those fingers…

You growled – at least you hoped it sounded like a growl.

“Fuck it.” You exhaled. “Where's your car?”

“I'm afraid the jeep is at the auto shop. I had… an accident.”

Your eyebrows moved up. Did he just grin?

“But I know a place...”

Rafe moved his head, pointing with his chin in the direction before he started walking, and he just grabbed your wrist to pull you along. You mouthed a complaint, but followed him into an alley behind the storefront.

“I’m not gonna let you eat me out between dumpsters.”

Rafe rolled his eyes, but did not say anything. He tugged you along to a door which he somehow managed to open.

He held it open for you to walk inside, which you did, while eyeing him.

“How do you know about this?”

Yet instead of answering, Rafe grabbed your neck and hip and his hungry lips found yours. And this time you didn't push him away. Your hands found his hair, tugging at it as you reacted to the kiss. The moment his lips touched yours, something so hot, so feverish was ignited, and you had no intention to stop it. Your eyes closed and you heard the door fall shut and some clicking sound that must have been a light switch, but you had no intention of checking. Your body and his were so closely entangled, and you just let him move you in the direction he shoved you, practically clinging to each other.

With your eyes closed, you had shut out any rational thinking. All you wanted was feel. Him. Your own hands eagerly slipped under his shirt – under that damn baby-blue shirt that suited him so well. You couldn't wait to get it off of him.

Rafe seemed to be reading your mind – or just your body – he obliged, broke the kiss to take off his shirt.

And you gazed at his perfectly sculptured torso, those abs made you literally lick your lips.

You were slightly panting, when you quickly took in your surroundings. You were in some dusty storage room that didn't seem to be used – except for Rafe's fuckdates probably. The thought should appall you, but fact was, you were so hot for this guy, you were aching for his touch. And the way he looked at you told you, he was as hungry as you were, maybe even more – blue eyes so intensely gazing at you, you felt naked when still fully clothed. That throbbing between your legs was getting unbearable and you knew that your panties must be soaking wet by now. Just from that damn kiss. That damn hot kiss.

You saw him lick his lips and your breath hitched.

“So are you gonna get on your knees now?” You tried to make your voice sound firm when you felt your body trembling with anticipation.

Rafe chuckled and shook his head.

Stunned for a moment, you just gaped at him, but the next moment he grabbed you and turned you around, and you managed just in time to brace yourself with your hands before colliding with the wall. You let out a gasp.

You craned your head back, as you heard him unzip his pants.

“Fuck, you promised to go down on me!”

“Never said that. I said I'd make you relax.” You could only hear his dark voice, but you were sure he was smirking.

You felt the hot touch of his fingertips on your thigh, felt his hand moving under your skirt, moving between your legs that just parted on their own. You shivered, mewled, and your eyes rolled back into your head. Such a light touch shouldn't affect you that much. You frowned at yourself and reached back to slap at his arm, a rather half-hearted attempt to stop him.

“Oh, you don’t want my cock inside you? I can just leave…” The arrogant tone in his voice made you growl. And the touch of his fingertip grazing over the fabric of your panties – your soaking wet panties – made you moan.

This guy made you so incredibly mad – and needy.

You scoffed and mumbled a curse.

You gripped the hem of your skirt and shoved it up over your waist, pulled down your panties, and they dropped to the floor. You faced the wall, pushing your naked ass out, arching your back and spreading your legs.

“Fuck me. And make me cum”, you commanded – hoping he wouldn't realize how much you were aching for his cock to fill you.

You heard him exhale and shuffle behind you. His large hand on your hip, you felt his length brushing along your slit, pulsing.

“And make it quick,” you said, already panting.

“That I can't promise.”

You were about to talk back, when Rafe's grip got firmer and his hard cock pushed into you, taking all your breath away.

And that was everything you felt from that moment on; your whole being was literally centered around Rafe Cameron’s cock buried deep inside you. Your walls clenched tightly around him, but he pushed harder, thrust into you with his whole length. You heard him inhale sharply and he remained still for a moment. Then his cock slowly retreated, before thrusting even harder into you.

You found your breath again, panting, moaning, whimpering as he fucked you.

His arms wrapped around you from behind, one hand grabbing your throat, causing you to tense up more, and feeling another rush flooding your senses. He growled close to your ear. Your back arching, moving at his will. You were burning up and shivering at the same time. His other hand pressed against your lower stomach as he continued fucking you from behind, causing you to flinch. His fingertip rubbed your clit – damn, it shouldn’t be so easy for him to find exactly the right spot right away and to give you what your body craved for.

His touch was rough and ruthless, nothing tender about the way he fucked you and pushed you quickly close to the edge. You couldn't even try to hold it back. Your orgasm hit you hard and you moaned shamelessly as he was fucking you through your high. Your body not feeling like your own anymore but something Rafe was in charge off. And he was in absolute control over your sensations, your body, your desires. You were still riding on that high, legs shaking, when you felt another climax building up inside you.

You lost all sense of time or place or anything. You didn't just feel his cock inside you, his hands on your body, his breath on your skin. You felt him everywhere. Every cell of your body was filled with him, his power, his greedy nature. And you'd never felt so much like yourself.

He made you cry out and whine, moan and whimper pathetically as he fucked you relentlessly, turning you into something he used to satisfy his seemingly insatiable appetite.

When you thought you couldn't take anymore, when your body was nothing but a trembling mess at his mercy, he grabbed you harder, fucked you deeper, and hotly groaned into your ear.

You screamed his name, so loud, your lungs burned.

Your body convulsing as you felt his hot cum spilling into you.

His hand turned your face sideways and he whispered something into your ear, but you didn't get the words, only felt his hot breath, only felt his hard cock pushing again into you, up to the hilt.

You had no chance of stopping all those pathetic sounds coming from you, as your body was convulsing around his.

He held you, for a while. You were panting heavily, as you felt his heartbeat at your back.

Your whimpering sounds stopped and your breathing was eventually calming down.

When he pulled out, you almost collapsed to the floor, as your legs seemed unable to carry your own weight. He caught you. Rafe slowly turned you around and held you.

You looked at him, his face flushed, his lips parted as he seemed out of breath too. There was something in his eyes, something so soft. Something that was ripping at your chest.

He slowly moved closer. And the tightness in your chest was unbearable. You pushed him away.

He stepped back and bent down to pick up your panties, handing them to you.

You watched him through narrowed eyes as you put them on. You winced when you felt his warm cum dripping out of you. You glared at him as he grinned.

“Don't you ever use a condom?”

He grinned more and shrugged. “Consider it a lucky charm. For your interview.”

You froze as reality hit you hard.

“Fuck.”

Hastily you smoothed down your crumpled clothes and checked your phone. You were late for the interview. And looked like a fucking mess. Your hair in disarray, your face glowing, sweat covering your body. You looked like you had just been fucked into oblivion.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” You looked at the camera and tried to at least wipe away the smudged mascara from your cheeks.

You looked up and saw Rafe, who was just standing there, shirtless, his heaving chest covered in a light film of sweat. He looked at you with that look.

“I hate you.” You scowled at him.

And he just shrugged. “I don't care as long as I get to fuck that fine pussy of yours.”

A surge of hot rage was about to make you jump at him, scratch his blue eyes out, kick his balls, hit his handsome face – but you just let out an exasperated growl, and pushed him out of the way as you left the storage room as fast as you could – thanks to Rafe Cameron that wasn't too fast, as your legs were shaking and you were goddamn sore from being fucked so thoroughly.

a/n This got kinda long and has a lot of plot. Sorry. Reader and Rafe somehow wouldn’t shut up. I appreciate all your feedback and thank you for reading!

[wachtelspinat]

i can't help but feel like my drawing days are kind of over. not entirely, i'll still be drawing from time to time. and deffo not because i want to. but i'm having this exact same feeling since mid 2022, since i was really struggling with my elective period, i kind of disconnected with art there and never truly found my way back. on top of everything that came after - moving, starting a job and working to be good at it which leaves such little room for other things because i can't handle my life well - there is just so much horrible shit going on. and i'm having a hard time comprehending it.

a part of me also feels very stupid for drawing one thing for almost 4 years now constantly, but another part of me knows "hey, but this makes you happy". it's a constant battle in my head because online spaces are like school grounds, and i don't actually wanna stand in the corner as that one kid that just can't shut up about that one character. but then again all i ever did was drawing fanart so... what does it. who gives a shit. be cringe and be free alright. but it kinda feels so hollow, esp. when you're at it for so long. a lot of mutuals move on. some are not even active anymore anywhere. and i wonder what happened. plus a huge chunk of the tone of the fandom has changed. also with the source material getting butchered so hard (since the release of ow2) it just kills the fun. playing this game used to be fun. playing this game was one thing that helped me getting through the last meters of university. it's like watching the downfall of the simpsons again without making the comparison too set in stone, just... this thing that used to be decent and nice and watching it getting ruined in real time (broken promises about pve, the recent gameplay changes?? the lore was fucked up from the start but they kind of tried, now it's just skins for 20+ dollars) while still having feelings for the characters is shit. anyway...

i recently went through a big folder of stuff i'd drawn at the age of 12-15 and there were so many fucked up but cool monster and cyborgs designs and just silly stupid stuff and all i could think of was that i felt so distanced from it, like i don't even know i think this is normal? because a lot of time has passed and a lot has happened and i knew i've drawn all this but i wasn't able to locate the person who did in my present me now and... it's just so normal that things move constantly forward but i feel like i missed huge chunks and passed a few stops and now i'm kind of lost.

i don't even know what i'm trying to say here anymore. i just feel sad because it feels like sth is slipping out of my grasp or sth has changed tremendously and i don't know how to make damage control.

i keep trying tho, i try to draw once a week at least. it's just like as soon as i take a step back and look at it i don't feel it at all. gonna continue tho, until it makes sense again i hope.

[sea-of-dust]

Phantom theif boys x GN! Reader

Dating headcannons!

N: Adding comfort headcannons to knock two asks in one stone, they got changed to just comforting headcannons mostly. Ur not escaping pastel*pallette with this.

He's ready to fully wake up as soon as he hears your voice downstairs or just your footsteps. Morgana is not a fan of suddenly feeling his leg pulled out of bed.

Super ready to tease you. The guys smiling hard before he responds with something stupid. "I dare you" trying to hold off his chucking, he places his hand ontop of yours and spins you, stopping when you face him. "Are you a cheeseburger?" "no"

Let's you brush his hair, in fact you should. Curls are hard, ya know. His wrist can use a break, plus you're the one brushing it he sees it as a win. Ignoring the times you decided to give him pigtails

He can be super romantic at times, especially the most random, "I'm sorry I took so long, your beauty distracted me" he smirked twiddling a bit of his hair, you sigh, after a pause beginning to chuckle "I don't like you" "you love me" kissing your cheek he goes behind the counter "anything you wanna eat?"

He's always gonna be there to comfort you. Holding you close as you cry into his chest over something that had been bothering you, hearing you out while he cooks or staying by your side while you rant. "And then she was like," Oh well you need to go to extra help TO HELL WITH THAT!" You rub your temple "sorry she's just been getting on my nerves" "have you tried dropping or switching classes?" "She would reject the request everytime" you'd wonder why she suddenly accepted the following day. Maybe she finally thought you were just bad at chemistry

Will tell you he's a phantom theif trying to rizz you up. "So like we use these things called personas to fight these shadows" "woah, that's cool, Ryuji." You didn't believe him, but you let him cook, he's trying his best

Embodiment of the YIPPE sound. He loves seeing you. Could be walking to class, and he'd stop midway. "Yo!" "Hey Ryuji" great now he's gonna repeat that 3 more times a day, won't even start a conversation, sometimes, just likes hearing you say hi to him

He's super cuddly when sleepy. "Where are you going" "I told you I'm going home" "nooo" he wraps his arms around your waist "you aren't allowed to leave" trying to slip out he tightens his grip. You had to call your parents to tell them you had no choice but to stay longer

He'd get so excited when anything sport related comes along. "I wanna watch the track team compete this weekend. You should come" "do you need me to bring snacks?" "You bring them every time, though! I'll bring them this time" He'd get super hyped up about someone from the school taking the lead he almost fell off the bleachers at times.

He would buy you snacks, and you two would talk about it on a bench. "He's so annoyingggg" "I know, right!" "Like he can't shut up everything's quiet and this mf 'I HAVE A BUISNESS' shut up" "like at the end of the day he's still an incel" "EXACTLY" you two would end up ranting with eatchother so much you end up calming eatchother down, this would also translate into you just being too sad to even make funny comments. "He's just so draining, kinda makes me wish someone just told him to be quiet" "for real I almost cried at his voice" "it's too squeaky right" "totally" laying your head on his lap you look up at him just thinking. "You're staring into my soul here." he strokes your hair with a nervous expression "good" In the end, he still comforts you the same way

"Oh, it's you" turned to "it's you.." REAL quick, as soon as you started dating, he got shy

He's gonna ask you to help him with art. "Y/n do you mind posing?" "With what?" "These live lobsters I found" ".... no thank you" "but!" "I'm gonna buy you those little wooden dolls just for that" "you're better than any piece of wood!" It turns more into a praise sesson he forgets about the lobsters he's basically keeping as pets at this point

You tried to teach him how to cook, or atlesst follow the recipe. "OK so we have the custard" you grab his hand, holding it up. "Don't use that we need it for later." "My Appologies" "it's alright it's your first time making this" He's fine the first time but gets way better with practice. He'd make you jealous with how nice he'd make his food look

Tried pick up lines they were good, but the execution could use work. "Y/n! Do you have a map? " "For what?" He pauses, looking down as if thinking for the next line "because i can't help but get lost in your eyes" you smirk, watching him get more bashful than you from his own line. "Are you a painting?" You cup his face making him look at you "because I can't take my eyes off you"

He isn't very good in this field...but he has spirit! You'd sigh while watching him paint after a few eye rolls, vacant stares,leaning on him. He's gonna sense it even if you don't do all that. "Is there something on your mind?" You look down to his paints before answering "a friend of mine moved away, and I found out recently she used to steal stuff from others" crossing your arms you continue "I kinda get why some of my stuff went missing now but just to think" "that does seem rather unfortunate" "she's lucky the stuff she took was all under 10 bucks or I would have asked the phantom theives to do something" he pauses his brush for a secound before continuing on "via the website?" "Yea! They'll probably handle her if it genuinely gets outta hand" he smiles as he puts down his paint and brush. "How about we go for a walk for you to let out some steam?" "sounds great"

"I'm alone. Would you like to join me?" "Do you realize how that sounds?" "Do you realize how dirty your mind is?"

He'll be resistant to cuddling at first but then slowly realize he likes it. Won't ask for it tho but he will be a little peeved when they aren't given. Subconsciously learn the way he stares at your arms, how he grips his own, and the way he tries to get a bit closer to you, you've learned the secrets to a touch starved akechi

Would be a bit annoyed when you bring up another dude. "And then Ryuji was shaking the vending machine and the guard thought we were trying to steal snacks" "I see" "I ended up getting em though" "mhm" "you're so aggressively disinterested" "yes I am" You pause before letting the smirk take over your face "so then akechi rubbed my face and asked for a kiss" "I should" he stops typing to press his lips softly on your cheek.

He'd take you everywhere with him. Not a choice, it's only when he's at his job that he's away from you, everywhere else? Same class right next to you. Eating lunch with you, would ask you to play darts with him after school. He'd wonder why you'd look so tired when you two finally got home after school, atleast he helps with homework.

"Akechi" you move hair from his face. "What is it?" You continue touching his face as he watches as your hands move around his face. "Is there something on your mind" "is it that obvious" you pull your hand away, but he takes his into yours. There's a short pause before you decide to speak again. "A person close to me stopped coming to school after an argument we had. I'm pretty worried" "you didn't try contacting them?" "I have, but I think they'll just get more annoyed" you sigh "I just don't know what to do" "let them have their momment they'll contact you when they feel like it, in the meantime" he covers you in the blanket he shared with you momments ago "you could stay here until it leaves your mind"

"So what is skibbity toilet?" "Zen no"

He'd always order for you at places, unless you changed your order he'd get you everytime. "You gotta stop doing that" "Why you jealous I know you better than you know yourself?" "Yes"

He tries to ask you for advice on Akane. "She got upset she couldn't play and eat" "did you try making it a tea party" he scoffs, giggling a bit at the suggestion. "I'm serious. Do you have any tiny tea cups?"

He's definitely touch starved when he gets home. Barely awake, he'd cling onto you, mumbling into your ear. He's fallen asleep for a few seconds on your shoulder. "Let's get you to bed, Zen." "it's comfortable here though." "it'll be more comfortable in bed." "ugghhhhh"

He's gentle when it comes to you, especially when you get home more upset than usual. "So how was work" in a slightly annoyed tone you respond "draining they tried to give me unpaid overtime again" you sigh "hmm" without much words he lays down with you hugging you "do you want anything?" "Sleep" he smiles fondly "this house will be so quiet it's like it was haunted" The next day, do expect most of your chores to be done already, as well as breakfast. It was made with love, not with skill

[yakumtsaki]

AND WE'RE BACK. My cancerous thyroid might have briefly cucked me, but now I'm about to cuck every goddamn semi-incestuous couple in this house. Isn't that right, Baby?

-CAWK CAWK

Exactly! Baby here is a parrot that Meadow rolled the want for and I was like sure, what problems could a parrot possibly cause?

-OPEN THIS DOOR. SOMEONE OPEN THIS DOOR FOR ME. OPEN IT RIGHT NOW OPEN IT OPEN IT

Um it should open automatically for you wtf?

-OPEN THE DOOR, MAMMAL TRASH, THIS IS YOUR FINAL WARNING

Ok Baby seriously why won't the doors open for you?

-I DON'T KNOW BUT I WILL STAY HERE AND PREVENT EVERYONE FROM GOING TO CLASS BECAUSE THEY'RE TOO STUPID TO USE THE OTHER DOOR

Alright then, clearly there's only one solution to this..

Perfection.

-Um, what happened to the door?

-IT ASKED TOO MANY STUPID QUESTIONS. OUT OF THE WAY, HUMMIE SCUM

Well, Baby was clearly a much needed addition to this house. Now, to the main event: an end to the Year of Sin!

NOP, NEVERMIND, SPOKE TOO SOON, MUST DO THIS INSTEAD. We invite Good Witch over for Spice and she asks to bring a friend and it's FUCKING MALCOLM. LMAO. I simply have to, I can't resist-

-Well well well, if it isn't the famous Malcolm Landgraab IV, the finest intergenerational concubine the world has ever seen!

-Huh?

-You were too much of a straggot to date my father, but I know you won't be able to resist the charms of the much better looking son!

-What?

-God, the conversation is just crackling with sexual tension!

-So, Malc, I believe we should make out. Thoughts?

-Where are those fucking butterflies coming from?

-Your stomach? ;)

No, they're from the Good Witch, my bad y'all.

After many, MANY hours of talking, Malcolm finally accepts a lame wolf whistle-

-but our efforts are interrupted by Felina returning from class. WILL YOU GIVE IT A FUCKING REST FOR ONE DAY

-NEVER

-Sorry kid, but if Malcolm Landgraab is to ever consider bisexuality, it will be for someone who can beat up his own sister.

Wtf kinda rule is that you freak?? You know what, just gtfo-

-NO. Stay here, Malcolm, I'd like to hear stories about you and great-great grandma Victoria!

-Oh wow, now that was a real woman. She could hold her liquor, she could whore around, she could beat up anyone.. No man could ask for anyone more feminine!

You are so right, Malcolm, the only one to ever do it better was Long John Silver!

Ok seriously Barth is there a plan here, why are we wasting valuable time on platonic interactions with this loser?

-I just have a feeling true love will prevail!

What are you even talking about-

UM PWND @ ME WTF. ACR DOES IT AGAIN WITH LITERAL NEGATIVE CHEMISTRY LOL

OH FUCK YES TWO BIRDS WITH ONE STONE. Two Babies with one stone if you will!

-HOW DARE YOU CHEAT ON ME, YOUR OWN FLESH AND BLOOD

Ya ok GROSS but finally we can put this behind us, 1 down, 200 more to go. Cyan go back to your other cousin-lover while you still can because I'm breaking you up too!

-Don't have to tell me twice!

Ugh.

-Hmmm...

What now, Barth.

-Nothing, I just keep forgetting I actually have two eyes.

Ya, you and me both.

-But now that I possess peripheral vision, I see there's so much to be done in this house.

You have set yourself on fire multiple times, please stop with the household tasks, that's why we have a butler.

-But he never actually does anything!

Yes well, his main job is to answer the door and we no longer have one, but it's still money well spent.

-WELL I WILL FIX THE DISHWASHER OR DIE TRYING

-BARTH NO I STILL LOVE YOU

-FUCK YOU SUNSET, YOU BROKE MY HEART BY SLEEPING WITH YOUR BOYFRIEND. HE'S NOT EVEN RELATED TO YOU

Barth no offense but I think I'm ready for your next electrocution to take you out.

-As am I!

-And I!

-GETTING SLAPPED MULTIPLE TIMES A DAY IS STARTING TO AFFECT MY MENTAL HEALTH HOW DO I MAKE IT STOP

You could stop being Satan incarnate?

-No, there has to be a better way!

-How about I sleep with the boyfriend of the only cousin in this house who doesn't already hate me?

Yes, absolutely, and please take another crack at fixing the dishwasher when you're done.

[bluxb3rry]

❝𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞!❞↳෴੭˚ ༘♡·˚₊˚ˑ༄ؘ 💜

Medusa AU! Lee Minho x Blind! male reader! he/him pronouns! English is not my first language! hehe angst and fluff Also, HAPPY NEW YEAR [Not yet but you know] would you like to see me as another fruit or blueberry forever?

── ⋅⋅⋅ ────꒰ ୨ ♡ ୧ ꒱───────

Lee minho was a handsome man, everytime he walked he made at least made one person fall in love at frist sight. He didn't care, he just wanted to be with his cats in his lovely home, him and his toughts.

In some way, he didn't liked being like this, people only looking at him with lust in their eyes, talking to him with only one thougt in their head. He wished that someone could touch his hair, his lips, his neck, his body, with pure love, and the soft words "i love you" being murmured in his ear. That someone could kiss him with passion and that could build a fire inside him.

He oh so wanted to be loved, that he believed in the men that told him those words, he ignored everything because he was told "i love you" he ignored the warnings in his head and kissed him with passion, feeling loved.

But love isn't real, it's fake, and he learned that with pain, he was punished. He didn't know why, he was loved, he felt safe in that man arms, but he heard an angry scream before that his body changed.

Lee minho was a handsome man, so as a punishment, he was made to a monster. He didn't really looked like one, the snakes that were his new hair didn't damage anything, he would look like a beautiful creature, but, everyone that looked at him would became stone. That made him a monster.

People wanted to kill him, people wanted to take his head as a trophy, but that wasn't even close to what he felt, he felt betrayed because of love. Because of love, he lost his life.

He wished that someone would look at him and tell him "you're still handsome" "you're still are perfect" please, stop calling him a monster, please let him leave that cage of rocks inside a muntain, where only the planst and the rocks can hear his screams and tears. Ignoring the beautiful flowers that grow from the grass, ignoring those snakes that oh tried so hard to help him.

Please someone tell him, tell him that you love him.

-hello?-

Huh, a voice?

-Hello? Is anybody here? im lost!-the voice started to be more close

-a human?-he whispered, a snake answering him with a hiss

He started to get up from the rock, his snake like body transferring him. He looked behind one of the rocks, the human was walking quite dumb in his opinion, he would step on some rocks and hiss, still looking anywhere confused as ever.

-Hello?-the man said again, until he crashed into a big rock and fell to the floor.

-you are one silly human-minho finally talked, getting close to him.

There were a lot of statues around him, men that tried to kill him, men tried to hide but failed. Yet, this guy decided to just walk like nothing, and even ask for help, his help.

-Hello? Who are you?-the men asked looking at him.

Minho was suprised when the men looked but didn't became stone.

-my question is, who are you? i want to know the stupid men that came here-minho talked with a hint of anger in his voice

-oh, um, im sorry mister, im Y/N, as you can see im blind and i don't know how i got lost and, well, here i am-Y/N said with a small smile, his cheeks becoming quite red

-huh, that makes sense-minho walked far away, slapping his snake tail to the mens face-that explains why you aren't stone right now

-stone?-Y/N looked at bit more suprise now-so, you are the snake man that the town talks about-

-something like that, and you don't look so afraid-minho said while playing with one of his snakes.

-well, if you were a really monster, you would have killed me by now, yet you didn't-Y/N said with a smile in his face, looking where he was hoping the men was.

-you are lost, where did you wanted to go anyways that you ended here?-minho sat, kinda, in front of him.

-i was following some people, they said that they were going to look for food but never came back-he laughed a bit-i think they didn't wanted me in the group anymore

Minho just looked at him, not saying a word.

-Lee minho-

-huh?-

-Lee minho, thats my name-

── ⋅⋅⋅ ────꒰ ୨ ♡ ୧ ꒱───────

Minho showed him the town, hiding behind some trees, far away from his cave, yet, Y/N followed him back. He heard him quite easly, since he crashed again into some trees.

"why are you still here" he asked

"well, you didn't pushed me away" Y/N answered

So, time passed, and here they are, beside the small lake that was in the cave. Minho looking at Y/n making some crown flowers with the few that grow there.

-you know how to make those, you look like a professional-he said getting closer to him

-yeah, well my mom used to teach me, it was hard since i only could use my hands but, i learned and i made a lot of them for her and for me-Y/N said finally finishing the two crown flowers, putting one in his own head

-and your father?-minho asked, fixing a bit of the flower crown in Y/N's head

-he, was never there, i didn't mind, i didn't met him but i wish i could hugged him at least one time-Y/N's voice was a bit sad

-men are like that, some of us don't deserve that, i was once a handsome man, but, someone betrayed me-minho said, anger being obvious in his voice

-was?-Y/N asked

-well, if you could see me right now, you would see a monster-

Y/N raised his hands a bit, withouth warning he started to touch Minho face. Minho was suprised but he stay still, now knowing what the other one was doing.

Then he felt his fingers in his lips, touching his cheecks, softly touching his nose and even touched some of the snakes. Y/N touched his neck a bit, then rested his hands in his shoulders, Y/N smiled.

-i think your handsome and kind, if you weren't like that, i would have been dead by now but you helped me and even let me live here-Y/N said-though i do feel sad that i can't see you, dying by seeing you must be a beautiful way to die.

Minho felt tairs falling from his cheecks, oh he waited so long for those words to be said, even before that he became like that. Someone has finally treated him with kind and love, told him how he was.

His heart felt like fire, he didn't know when but he kissed him, he kissed him with passion and you accepted that. The two men in that room knew so little abouth the other, but they felt safe in each others arms.

When they separated, they hugged, Minho face being in withing the shoulder and neck of Y/N.

-i... i think i love you-minho whispered

-i love you too-

Minho felt happy, and with his snakes looking at him and at his new lover, he didn't care, he wasn't a monster.

── ⋅⋅⋅ ────꒰ ୨ ♡ ୧ ꒱───────

[just-another-author-i-guess]

Hi!

Could you do a headcannon of how Judd would act high around his significant other?

I feel like once he is high, he’s a little more soft and shows that a bit more

Yes!! High Judd = soft Judd fr 💪💪

Tags: fem/gn! Reader, erh the gender isn’t really specified but kinda fem? Mentions of weed and smoking it obviously, mentions of sex too bc yk, big mouth, this is probably the fluffiest thing I’ve written with Judd haha, but I was VERY tired and sleep deprived when I wrote this and did not beta read 😵‍💫

Author’s note: I have convinced my friend to start watching big mouth lmfao, and he actually agreed that Judd is hot 💪💪 it’s a win for the boys

High Judd Headcannons

Word count; 1,0K

He has two moods when he’s high 

You’ll either get super horny Judd or super soft Judd 

My personal favourite is soft Judd 

He’s all goofy smiles and cuddling 

Will think everything you say is hilarious too 

“Judd. Your parents are coming up the stairs, I can hear them,” 

He just lets out a cackle, one of those hoarse, drawn-out ones and just doesn’t answer 

It was kinda stupid of you to smoke in his room anyways,, but somehow he convinced you it was a good idea

The more stoned he gets, the more clingy he gets too 

If he’s in horny mode, he’ll obviously just fuck you harder and faster but if he’s in soft mode you’ll get a very unusual treatment 

Though not uncomfortable treatment, he’s just very, very touchy 

Like imagine Diane walking in the hallway upstairs, she walks past Judd’s room and the whole thing obviously smells like pot, so she enters and behold 

There Judd his— cuddling you, grinning while pressing his face into your stomach and leaving small kisses all over 

Not even in a sexual way 

He just loves you pls 🙏

You’re equally as stoned, running your fingers through his hair and complaining about it tickling 

My man LOVES when you tug or run your fingers through his hair, especially when he’s high 

He’ll literally just ask you to do it 

Diane finds the scene so cute she barely bothers scolding you for smoking, again she’s like 

“If you’re gonna do it, at least do it safely under my roof” 

She will call Elliot up, however, to gush over the to of you 

She’ll try to have him do it quietly though, so you won’t notice 

If you do though, happy stoned Judd will genuinely not care 

Like,, he seems to have smoked most of his anger away 

So he won’t even threaten his parents. Wow 🧐

Anyways, you don’t often do it at his house cause like,,, his parents 

But his car is the designated smoking spot

THATS ANOTHER THING 

He LOVES shotgunning you 

Your first kiss was probably bc he shotgunned you 

He was real smooth about it to; 

“Hey. Have you ever tried shotgunning?”

“No?”

“.. would you like to?” 

He’ll do it when he’s just smoking cigarettes too 

Judd really just wants every opportunity to kiss you, and ngl, seeing you exhale smoke makes him hella turned on 

He kinda has an obsession with your stomach when he’s high??? 

Like,, he’d like to lean his head on it and cackle if it makes noise, but ESPECIALLY he likes to splay his hands over it bc you’re genuinely so small compared to him 

And really soft too 

He’ll unabashedly smell you too, like the smell of your shampoo and perfume and shit makes him all lovestruck 

Stoned showers?? 🤭

Like if he’s in horny mode, he’ll definitely be up for a shower 

Seeing you both wet AND naked 

Yes pls. ✋

But like,, also if it’s at your house and you use your body wash and shampoo on him he’ll go 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰

Lmfao his family will DEFINITELY comment on it 

Like when he gets home and he smells like strawberry milk and flowers or whatever you use 

He’ll only let you do that when he’s high 

You gotta understand, he has a reputation— 

But, back to my point 

Soft Judd is so straight forward? Will say whatever is on his mind 

But like Judd in general is also really quick to get going, if yk what I mean 

So his soft comments about your smell or how soft you are will turn into something like;

“Sweetheart. D’you wanna sit on my dick for a while or something?” 

Ooooohhh,, soft high Judd has a thing for cockwarming 

I mean, he’s already touchy and sorta horny so you just sitting on him for hours is absolutely perfect 

He’d love watching you wiggle and struggle, red in the face and desperate pleas leaving you as you try to bounce yourself on him 

He would just laugh at your struggles and lightly tell you to stay put, and if you’re really good, he will fuck you later 

He would LOVE to fall asleep with his hard dick inside you 

Just being as close to you as possible 

He’d wake up later tho, not nearly as stoned but is cock still as hard and fuck the living shit out of you 

No okay but soft dom Judd? 😋

He can be stoned without being horny too, but it’s a rare occurance 

You’d smoke in his car and end up on the roof, stargazing 

He claims not to be romantic but when he’s stoned he gets sappy as shit 

“I really fucking love you.” 

He’d mumble into your hair, nuzzling his face into it a little bit 

Aw, you’d melt 

If you return the favor and tell him you love him too he’ll get so embarrassed though 

He’d blush and look away 🥰🥰🥰🤭🤭

I feel like he’s always some level of stoned though 

So he’d have to be really really high for him to be able to open up like that 

Fr it happens only like once every other full moon 

Obviously he does love you, his mom is always on his ass about it telling him to tell you more often lol 

When he comes down he’ll sleep for like days 

Okay maybe that’s exaggerating a bit,, but he’ll be so fast asleep you’ll worry if he died lmfao 

And he’s so groggy when he wakes up too 

If you’re less affected, he’ll definitely expect you to coddle him and bring him food or something 

But if you’re more or the same as him, you’ll just spend the day in his bed 

Taking turns sleeping and fucking 

Idc no matter how tired he is, being in his bed means sex at some point 

Also his mom is an actual life saver and will bring the two of you snacks and food 

(I love Diane ok) 

This, however, is only if you get really fucking stoned 

I feel like usually he would just act like himself, maybe a bit less tense and a lot more handsy 

But yk, the above is for extreme cases were he’s been smoking a lot lol 

Ok I actually need to sleep my eyes are closing by themselves 🧍🏻and I have some sick character development I need to do tomorrow

Tags; @dlfvrr , @bxbyyyjocelyn

[love-toxin]

Wait I have a question. Would Bully!Eddie defend us if someone else tried to bully us or force us to do something that normally he would do?

oooohhhhhohoho yes. you are his brat to bully, nobody else's--if someone tried to get you in their car or started shoving you around, hell, if they even starting calling a whore or a bimbo bitch like he does, bully!Eddie is going off the wall. he'll grab you so hard it bruises and drag you away, he'll get in a fist fight if absolutely necessary, and if things start looking bad for him he'll just pull out that handy switchblade he's got in case any deals go south. any idiot stupid enough to ignore the fact that you're Eddie's bitch doesn't have the stones to think he's not crazy enough to stab them, so it usually ends no further than that and he's free to turn his ire to you.

what did you do? you flash them or somethin', you little tease? what did you tell them? cut the fuckin' crying, it's so goddamn annoying.

Eddie just huffs as he takes you away, those aggressive complaints masking the fact that his anger isn't really towards you--but you don't know that, and how should you? he just wants a reason to be upset that someone wanted to take you away from him, that someone tried to treat you like that, without admitting that the real reason is that he cares about you. if you're somewhat fine after the fact, he just brushes off your thanks and crudely reminds you that he's expecting a reward for saving your ass. but he doesn't actually end up enforcing that, even a little bit, he just pretends it's so insignificant that he forgets about it.

if you're not fine, however, and his usual tactics of ordering you to quit being a crybaby don't work, he just.....gets a little embarrassed. what's he supposed to do with you? he's not good at comforting people, and if he so much as raises his voice, you just start crying harder.

so he just kinda....hugs you. not too tightly, not enough to break your ribs or anything, just.....wraps his arms around you and squeezes, and lets your head rest where it may, which ends up being in his shoulder as you wet his jacket with tears. and he just keeps his mouth shut until your sniffles start to subside, and you're reduced to a mess of soft whimpers as you clutch at his back and nuzzle yourself into his long hair.

"such a baby." he huffs, trying not to make it obvious that he's rubbing your back. "got all your tears out, crybaby? gonna ask for a milkshake and cuddles, and for me to tuck you in after?"

he's being sarcastic, obviously, if the look on his face when he finally pulls back to see you isn't enough of an indication--but when you look up at him with those big, baby-doe eyes, your lips almost in a pout as you nod your head and ask "can we?", Eddie feels his stomach take a dip.

"I...f-fine, whatever. if it'll shut you up." he mutters, and pushes you along towards the van while tugging a piece of hair in front of his face out of habit. no, he does not like it when you act cute like that, and no, his heart is not fluttering in his chest when he buckles you in and asks you what flavour you want. definitely not.....

[storiesbyjes2g]

3.169 Caught up

It's 5:19 a.m., and Desi is giggling, so I guess it's time to get up. Today is her birthday, and I am stoked about celebrating a new chapter of her life. But that joy in tandem with all these deaths, and watching everyone around me get older, has me feeling anxious. In the grand scheme of things, I'm still pretty young, not even a quarter of the way through my adult days. But time feels like it's zooming by. I can't recall exactly when it started, but these last few months have flown by so quickly. It feels like just yesterday I moved in with Sophia, and now I'm grieving the loss of my parents. And I have a toddler now. Where has the time gone? What have I really done with my life? Even though I know I've grown a lot, sometimes I still feel like that scared young man who was afraid of his feelings.

Desiree isn't ready to eat yet, but I'm starving, so I put her in the high chair while I got food for me. I learned my lesson, and she will not scare me like that again. I think she enjoys keeping me company, sitting there, blowing raspberries and saying things to me. She's so chatty so early in the morning. Maybe she's recalling a wild dream she had, heh. I'll always encourage growing her skills, but hopefully she won't end up as chatty as Chi Chi and her daughter. Still, I kinda can't wait to have a real conversation with her. I tell her today is her birthday and about how she'll be a big girl and all the fun things we can do together like go to the park, play in the water, and make friends. She doesn't seem impressed, and I laughed at her unamused face. I guess she's not interested in life outside my arms yet, heh.

Sophia joined us a little later, and I ask for her thoughts about doing play dates with Yasmine's girls. I expected a little resistance, but I didn't expect the full on stone face.

"We made a promise to each other, Luca."

I had not forgotten how we promised to make time for each other no matter how hard or busy things got, but what did that have to do with this? Desi needs to socialize. We may as well do it with kids we already know vs. meeting strangers at the park or whatever. Sophia admits the recent busyness was beyond our control and expresses gratefulness for the pockets of time we made for ourselves. But she also senses me getting caught up. I shift in my chair and tense up because it sounds like she's accusing me of something, and I don't like it.

"You have a huge heart, and I love that about you," she says. "I don't ever want you to stop caring about people, but while you're out here trying to help everyone, I feel like you're gonna edge me out of your life."

I can't lie. Those felt like fighting words, and I couldn't keep it together anymore.

"Edge you out? How could you possibly think that? After all we've been through??"

"No, please, you misunderstood me. I'm just saying I don't want to be left out. You're already gone a lot to look after your niece and nephews. I'm not a babysitter or even your baby mama. I'm you're wife! And we're friends! I miss talking to you and laughing about stupid stuff!"

"I'm not saying I don't want to help Yasmine," she continued. "Just...watch yourself. You're so quick to say yes to everyone, but I don't want you spending all of our time being a hero. Remember to make time for us. Please."

I see what she means now. I guess I have been falling down on the job lately. Taking care of her, Desiree, and the house is noble—endearing, even—but it's no substitute for spending quality time together, not that my goal was to avoid quality time. She shouldn't have to loiter in the living room, waiting for me to come home to spend time with me. I need to be more intentional about it. I still haven't taken her to that restaurant by Dub's house. Maybe it's time to clear the proverbial schedule and do that.

"I'll remember."

[rubykgrant]

Simmons would rather talk about ANYTHING ELSE besides his own gender/sexuality... but I have some thoughts~

(mostly connected to stuff that comes up in my big RVB story-line)

First of all, his parents are just sucky people. In general. They only wanted to have kids in the hope of impressing a relative, get some of that inheritance money... however, the baby was a little over-due, the relative passed away before the birth even happened, so no extra kid added to the will. Poor baby was a "disappointment" from the start.

By the time the kiddo turned 7, the question- "What if I was a boy?" had become- "Can I BE a boy?". Mr and Mrs Simmons had actually hoped for a son anyway, so they were "accepting" of this (but make no mistake, if this wasn't something they wanted for themselves, they would have been more UNPLEASANT). Because they already moved a couple of times and changed schools, Richard was able to start over where nobody knew who he was previously. A relief in some ways, however... mom and dad were very insistent that the "past" never be discussed. Again, it was encouraging to begin transitioning (first socially, then later medically), but Richard was taught not to acknowledge he was trans at ALL, which began a lot of internalized self-resentment from the get-go.

His dad was the one who would keep on "testing" him as he grew up, purposefully putting Richard into situations where he would have to prove himself, in the most backwards, nonsensical, and frankly- sexist ways; "A REAL MAN is better at sports than girls, so prove you can win against all the girls in your PE class!" and so-on. Obviously that's BS for SEVERAL reasons, and it just sets Richard up to have a weird ego-failure complex, and also think there is such a thing as "running girly laps".

Richard was always pretty scrawny, and during highschool, he had a growth-spurt that made him extra tall and lanky. More awkward, basically. He had a flat chest all on his own, but thanks to teasing from other kids, he was extremely nervous about EVER taking his shirt off. Thanks to the weird background-sexist-radiation from his dad, he thought it was just a given that he should be interested in girls... but he's a little afraid of girls (especially all the competitive jock girls who hate his guts for making them lose during team competitions). He almost tries to force himself into having crushes, but nothing ever clicks.

Once he's out of highschool, he gets surgery (no need for top, because- flat), and is hoping that he'll be able to start having A Real Life now... but he doesn't get into college, he can't get a job anywhere, he doesn't have any friends to live with, and his parents are threatening to just kick him out if he doesn't prove himself yet again. The last option is to join the Red Army, so that's where he goes... and then ALL THAT happens.

Simmons didn't exactly "come out" to anybody while in Blood Gulch, but after the whole surgery incident with Grif, Sarge knows about Simmons' medical history, and he doesn't call attention to it. In many ways, it is similar to what his own parents did (and partially why Simmons imprints on Sarge as a father figure). However, even through all the weird insults and ramblings, Sarge ironically gives Simmons more "attention" than his actual dad. It isn't always GOOD attention, but this is also the first time somebody has known this aspect of who Simmons is, and didn't treat him differently after the fact. So. That's almost kinda-sorta good? (it is still not great, because Sarge is an a-hole, but you take what you can get).

Simmons the proceeds to spend the next decade+ bickering with Grif, and not noticing MORE is going on, because they're both stupid (affectionate) (also FRUSTRATED). Simmons is still dealing with a lot of issues that are basically set in stone within his brain. When he starts to finally have genuine friendship feelings toward Grif, that alone is weird, because he barely likes anybody, and almost nobody ever likes him. When a whole CRUSH starts to happen, Simmons does not even get it. WTF is with all these weird gay thoughts in his head? Where'd that come from? For somebody who claims to be SMART, it takes him a while to do the math on this.

Eventually, waaaaay down the road, there would be some event, maybe around the younger generation on Chorus, where people are sharing things they've learned about gender/sexuality. A few of the Reds and Blues are kinda casually like- "Oh, I didn't know there was a word for that, I guess that's me!" or even- "I don't share this often but, yeah. I'm transgender," and- "I guess some of you already know, but I still want to say it. I'm gay"... and Simmons. He is just petty enough to FINALLY say- "I'm GAYER". It also takes him a full minute to remember, and add- "Oh, uh. I'm trans, too. More trans than you. I named myself Dick. I WIN"

He also works on un-packing internalized sexism and what-not, and when he reconnects with the girls on his team, he's much less nervous and better at treating them as individual people. He's aware of how much he used to suck, and it took a long time, but he's finally doing the whole "personal growth" thing. His parents still suck, but after the extended family of friends in his life have gone through changes as well, Simmons can see where he actually belongs

[feral-bird-enjoyer]

GRIPS YOU Shiromura fake dating

Shiromura fake dating!

I actually am actually not that far along in writing it but it's been giving me brain worms lately

Warning for teenage stupidity (mostly on Yosuke's end), Yosuke being insensitive, and a weird love triangle (it's a load-bearing love triangle okay I am not a love triangle fanatic)

I'll write out what I have plot wise below the cut

So Yosuke is actually mildly interested in Yu at first- but he's still kinda uncertain about the whole 'dating a guy' thing. So he asks Naoto to sort of fake going out with him, because Naoto is 'kind of like a guy'. (Naoto is still figuring themselves out in that regard, but is offended nonetheless.)

Somehow, despite Yosuke's total lack of tact and foresight, and his immediate withdrawal of the offer as soon as the words leave his mouth, Naoto actually agrees on the condition that Yosuke finances any dates or outings. After all, it would kill two birds with one stone for Naoto- they'd be 'taken', so no more having to deal with people asking them out, and they'd get free goods and food out of the offer, and then they'd eventually break up and Yosuke would end up with Yu. It's not like Naoto could possibly catch feelings for *Yosuke* of all people.

Long story short, Yosuke and Naoto start hanging out, not really doing anything but acting sort of like a couple in public (to the extent Naoto allows). The investigation team is confused, but overall supportive. Naoto actually finds themselves enjoying their 'dates'- they're so touch starved that they begin initiating things like holding hands (even without an actual romantic connotation). And Naoto kind of starts falling a bit for Yosuke as time wears on. He's actually a lot more perceptive and intelligent than Naoto initially realized, and he does genuinely care for Naoto.

It's just that he's going to dump them as soon as he feels ready to ask Yu out.

Which Naoto did agree to- this was never real dating, and it was entirely their fault for opening up. But they end up feeling used and taken advantage of, while also feeling guilty for liking Yosuke. Yosuke managed to fumble the situation as per usual, not understanding that Naoto could possibly like him like that and instead assuming they hate him and breaking the deal off early.

This does not go very well. Yosuke actually misses Naoto's company a lot, since Naoto's started avoiding Yosuke to just forget it all happened. And Yosuke realizes that maybe he likes Naoto just as much as Yu and he *maybe shouldn't have done that* but he's such a disappointment it's better Naoto stays away from him.

Yu visits Inaba during this weird breakup period and makes things ten times more complicated emotionally for Yosuke. He feels guilty for liking Yu and Naoto, for various reasons. Yosuke and Naoto don't want to admit to the IT what happened was a fake dating ploy to get Yosuke with Yu gone wrong. Yosuke starts avoiding Yu, just so he doesn't have to think about it.

Tbh I have no idea what should happen next. Polyamory? Shiromura gets together? Souyo gets together and Naoto is sad and Yosuke is guilty? The rest of the IT gets involved? Who knows- I might make a poll later or something

[honeybeekao]

okay take everything with a grain of salt because im not the izumi expert but here's my madness with izukao i was half asleep (slightly edited i had to fix typos and add a Little. for my sake.)

it's impossible for me to be normal when izukao exist. like Good lord theyre such a messsss

because okay. Izumi's like this guy who conceals his emotions and avoids sentimentaiity through Working and reaching his own standards. and his attitude is the embodiment of tough love. he's mean and nice at once and holds himself so highly because he has no choice. at least that's what he thinks. and it keeps his sense of self intact. without his faux confidence he may very well be nothing. i digress, he's not easy to love. he also has this deep seated fear now of ruining people so theres that..

kaoru's a normal guy going through the process of figuring out what he needs exactly. i think smth important about him is that friendship and connection is inherently vital in his existence. he learns to be loved for real by becoming closer to kanata and through that love he learns what it's like to not be so lonely. or at the very least, what being lonely together can mean. his intense loneliness doesn't have to plague him forever, maybe growing up is about learning just that.

he's a sweetie he's thoughtful and cares a lot for certain people.. he's always trying to brighten a room no matter what. knows holding himself to his dad's expectations is fruitless but he kinda does it anyway . god his self worth for awhile was so bad

i think izukao work because neither of them are perfect, they're so messy and complicated. in different And similar ways it's just so. whfhg they cant Fix eachother, i'd hate if that was how they were. but they definitely can help a lot. while also navigating this weird limbo of trying to learn who the other really is.

at first they have a friendly rivalry. being yumenosaki's Pretty People and all. (socially they've got Reputations) i think izumi really benefits from lighthearted carefree ppl interacting with him. again it's not easy to love izumi.. so the fact that kaoru does start treating him like a friend means something. kaoru's so good at tearing ppl's heads out of the clouds. cough rei cough

and basically zumi can learn So much from him. how to appreciate more, maybe feel more. Yeah. just feel. stop being stoic and face your fears idiot. once youve worked yourself to the bone til all your emotions run dry, it won't even be worth it.

izumi helps kaoru with self confidence in his own roundabout izumi way. it's like..basic skills Be more sure of yourself you're being a pushover, don't be naive— oh that was a stupid thought pattern i see.. thanks. and at first kaoru can't tell if the guy even likes him (he rants to rei abt this and rei finds it amusing but helps regardless) but eventually he decides on "he likes me he's just weird"

izumi and his bottled up emotions, he also conceals Any fear with a wall of stone. and so him not communicating this is an issue (not that kaoru is the best with communication early on either. they're both scared)

they teach eachother how to stop hiding so much.. and izumi learns to like the sound of the ocean

they hold hands and take candid photos of eachother! they kiss passionately and go on suffocatingly romantic dates. they hang out indoors when it's raining as if it's their last day on earth. thank you for reading

[rivstyx]

“Do you ever wonder if it was a mistake?”

“What?”

Luke sits with his knees curled to his chest and his chin resting on folded arms, staring out the window that he and Micah sit on. Tonight, they’ve managed to sneak out and get the good spot on the sill — the first time in the two weeks since Luke’s return that they’ve had some real alone time without anybody else around. The silence is leaving room for an awful lot of thinking.

Micah lifts his head from where he’s been resting on his shoulder and twists to look at him. “What do you mean?” he asks.

Shit, Luke thinks. I can’t do this to him.

“I just… hell. Forget I said anything.”

“Luke?”

“I’m alright.” He keeps his gaze fixed firmly on the traffic out the window.

Micah prods him gently with one finger. “What’s going on, querido?”

He sighs. “I’m fine. Honest.”

“No, you’re not.”

“I don’t even know what to say.”

I can’t lie to him. But I don’t want to worry him, either. I shouldn’t have said anything at all.

“Hey,” Micah says softly. “Please? I know something is on your mind. You have that look on your face.”

“Do I?” he asks, turning.

Micah catches him with a peck on the nose and steals a hand while he’s at it, unfolding Luke’s arms and drawing him open a little more.

“Okay,” he laughs. “Okay. I’ll be good. Look, it’s just… I dunno. Where do I even start, really?”

“From the beginning?”

“Well, that’d cover an awful lot of stuff you’ve been there for. Might not have the time.” He smiles faintly.

“I have all the time in the world for you, mi vida. Talk to me. You said something about a mistake?”

“Yeah.” He looks away, leaving his hand comfortably in Micah’s soft grip. “People just talk, alright? And I know I shouldn’t let ‘em get under my skin, but it’s kinda tough. It’s just—ugh.”

“What are they talking about?” Micah prompts.

“Me, of course. What else? You know I don’t like to listen to gossip, but hell, it’s hard not to hear what people are saying about me.”

“Nice things, I hope,” he mutters.

“They think I’m — I’m a ghost or something. Or I’m goin’ against God’s will. I’m unnatural. S’what I am.”

“What?”

“And I know, okay,” he continues, because he can’t stop this flow now that he’s started it, “I know I shouldn’t listen to it, but Jesus, Micah, some of ‘em are acting like I’m not even there.” He watches a black car pass on the street below and shakes his head. “I wish I hadn’t come back. I should’ve stayed there.”

“Luke,” Micah says helplessly.

He pauses. “I ain’t really told you yet, have I?”

“I don’t understand.”

“I… it only felt like a couple weeks. I don’t know how to explain it. I still don’t remember a lot of details about it.”

Beside him, Micah is silent. Luke hasn’t talked about it yet, and this is why — his chest is twisting up weird and he struggles to find the words. When death had been in front of him, he’d faced it calmly. Now that it’s behind him, though, he’s not sure what to do.

“I was dead,” he says, still fighting to say it without his voice cracking on him. “Stone dead for the second time, y’see? Before — that was my chance, and I blew it. I shouldn’t be alive.”

“Querido?” Micah reaches up and cradles his cheek in one hand, turning his head and wiping at the corner of his eye. “What— where did all this come from? Why didn’t you say something?”

“I’m sorry. I know I’m troublin’ you. That’s why I didn’t wanna say nothing.” He isn’t crying. He isn’t. The cold feeling on his face and the blur obscuring the traffic out the window is a coincidence, nothing more.

Micah doesn’t say anything to that; he just pulls their faces together until their foreheads come to rest against one another. His shaky breaths vibrate through Luke’s chest, too.

“Hey. It’s okay, sweetheart. I told you. I’m okay.”

“No, you’re not,” Micah whispers. “God. Tell me you won’t — you don’t—” He takes a steadying breath and tightens his grip against Luke’s cheekbone. “I can’t. Please, mi vida, tell me you aren’t going to do anything stupid.”

Cold dread fills Luke’s stomach as he realizes what Micah is asking. “No. God, no. I wouldn’t do that to you again.”

“I know. But please, just— just promise me.”

“I promise. You ain’t getting rid of me.”

[fantasy-on-parchment]

could you do a fic where evangeline is scared at night (maybe by luc?) and goes into jacks' room but in a fluffy kinda way where he takes care of her?

Why of course I can! If you were looking for a fluffy little comfort read then buckle up babes!

Don’t Want to be Alone

Jacks x Evangeline

No summary needed, no warning besides vampires and mentions of blood. <3

THIS IS NOT MY BEST WRITING IM CURRENTLY SICK AND ABSOLUTELY DROWNING IN COLLEGE WORK YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED…😘

~~

Eva’s POV

Piercing eyes, selling souls.

Neck biting, blood sucking.

Moonlight, gravestones.

Blood. So much blood.

It’s everywhere. On clothes and seeping into the stones at my feet. It’s caked into my hair and sticking like a second skin in the creases of my nails.

Blood. Blood, blood, blood, blood.

They’re holding me down, at least six of them. All while he stands over me. The boy I thought I loved, the boy I thought loved me.

I scream.

He lunges for my throat.

There’s a gasp throughout the room as I sit up in bed abruptly. My chest rises and falls in quick successions as I take in the room. On instinct, I back against the headboard and pull the comforter to my chest. My arms and legs and… well my entire body is shaking.

After my eyes adjust, it’s obvious I’m alone in the room, but… still. It doesn’t feel like I’m alone. I can almost swear I hear howls from outside. Vampiric, blood-sucking howls coming from just below my window. In my mind they’re climbing up the trellis, jumping onto my balcony and—

Nope. I throw the covers away, there’s just no way in all the fates’ will that I am staying in this room by myself.

Where am I going?

Hell if I know. But far far away from the “howling” is a good start. Whether it’s real or not…

Disregarding the lack of cover my slip provides, I slide slowly out of bed, manage to jump a foot away (because you know, monsters under the bed and all that), and tiptoe to the door. Before I open the large wooden slab that’s bound to creek, I turn and put my back to the cold surface.

I question what I’m even thinking, where I’m going, and what I plan to do when I get there.

I’m still exhausted, so hopefully wherever I go included a bed… but I also don’t want to be alone. I can’t very well just creep into anyones room and ask to sleep with them… no one would understand my fear or vampire howls or graveyards and…

Well… one person.

No. No, no, no, no.

I go to step back to my bed, but fear crawls up my stomach and I feel so sick I step back to the door. It’s my only option, and I hate it. It wouldn’t do any good, he’d turn me away immediately with one of those stupid grins of his. He’d call me that insufferable nickname, and tell me something like “if you plan to sleep anywhere near me, it’d have to be on the floor,” because fates only know he couldn’t be caught sharing a bed with me.

Unless…

The floor.

I quickly turn to face my door and cringe as it creeks open. I sigh when there’s enough room to slip through, and pad with my bear feet down the cold stone.

I’ll just stay on the floor. Yeah. I’ll sneak in and lay on the floor and he won’t even know and when the sun rises I’ll sneak back to my room…

Not creepy at all. Not “if he wakes up and finds me he’s gonna think I’m some crazy obsessed witch” at all.

I take a deep breath when I approach his door. It’s wooden, like mine, and most definitely will creek all the same. With my fingers on the handle, I shut my eyes tight and pray to whoever’s listening that Jacks is a very, very heavy sleeper.

But under my eyelids is Luc, standing above me, lunging for the kill—

I push the door open, oh fates is it loud. I keep pushing, hoping he’s asleep, hoping I can just lay on the floor and bask in another presence.

But when I open the door wide enough to see, there’s a lamp on by the bedside, and a sleep looking Jacks propped on his elbows above a fluffy pillow.

A small gasp escapes me when his eyes are already on me, and mine lock to his. I watch as he takes in the minimal clothing and shoeless feet, along with (most likely) ratted hair and dark under eyes.

He says one thing: “I had a feeling that sudden scream in my mind wasn’t my own.”

I have the audacity to stand there, jaw hanging, before I gather myself, “I… I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you…”

I turn around, very quickly aborting my mission, but Jacks has other plans, “What happened, Evangeline?”

I stop with my back to him, halfway out the door, halfway in the room. “Nothing, just a nightmare,” comes my feeble reply. It’s the truth, after all.

There’s a sarcastic hum, as if he doesn’t really believe me. I yearn to see the look on his face, try to read the emotions like I have time and time again. I turn back to him, crossing my arms around my stomach for some sense of security. I bite my lip until it hurts, and realize I must have already been chewing on it when it stings and tastes of metal.

He’s looking at me intensely, almost studying, “Why did this nightmare bring you to me?” He doesn’t smirk, he doesn’t need to, it’s all in his tone, how amused he is.

My jaw hangs open once again, not knowing-wanting-to answer. I don’t want him to know he’s the only person who truly understands me after this last year, or the only person I feel remotely safe with after the night in Chaos’s lair.

“Evangeline?” It’s impatient and tired and I realize I’m losing time, scrambling for an excuse.

“I just… I just don’t want to be alone.”

Jacks’s brows furrow, “You have maids and guards and plenty of other staff to keep you company so—“

“Yes but—“

“Even in the middle of the night they’re meant to—“

“It was Luc.”

The room goes silent with the remark, and I see something almost… possessive(?) flash in his eyes. But then they soften considerable so, and his mouth falls relaxed. I drop my gaze to my feet, very interested in the lengths of my toes, “I just, admittedly, got scared, that’s all. I wasn’t going to interrupt your sleep, I honestly was just going to sit by the window or on the floor, it didn’t matter. I just thought I heard howling and I didn’t feel safe in my room…”

There’s a beat of silence when I’m sure he’ll make me leave but; “Little Fox?”

I look up, feeling like an innocent child at their parents bedside after a bad dream.

“Shut the door.”

Oh.

I swallow deeply, nod solemnly, and begin to exit the room. “Yes, right, I’m sorry again, we don’t have to mention—“

“Stop.”

I look back from my place outside the room, “stop?”

He nods, more patiently than before, “Come inside and shut the door, Little Fox.”

Oh. Oh.

I do as told, honestly too exhausted to even think of a sassy remark. When I’m inside the room, we simply look at each other for a minute before Jacks begins to slide to the furthest side of the bed and lift the covers.

My brows furrow this time, taken aback by the invite. I scan the deep blue duvet and the shirtless man occupying half its space and… my stomach feels like it might roll over itself in a feeling I’m not sure I’ve ever had…

I look down at the thin fabric covering my stomach and thighs, my legs brushing together instinctively. My eyes switch between my feet, thinking surely he’s not really inviting me into his bed. Surely this is just some form of mockery, right?

I look back up at him, “If this is some kind of joke, Jacks, it’s really not funny.” I huff, crossing my arms and straightening my back. Perhaps, if I look more intimidating, he won’t see the desperation in my eyes.

But he levels me with a look of both boredom and determination all at once, “Little Fox, for all the disrespect I may show, I would hope you would know I wouldn’t joke about sharing my bed with you.”

I have to stop the gasp that travels up my throat at the ending of his sentence, the thought of not only sharing a bed but also…

“Are you just going to stand there? Because I must admit, you make a man very nervous.”

Oh, I stand still, suddenly realizing I had been shifting my weight between my feet. I open my mouth then close it again, then steel myself as I take a deep breath.

It’s his invite. It’s fine. He’s asking me, not the other way around.

When I take a tentative step forward, he grins, and it builds until I’m at the bed. Slowly, nimbly, I lift the covers and slide underneath. I sit while he is relaxed, straight as a board and tense.

I only tense more when he turns his body to truly face me, “Well,” he drawls, “you have a funny way of sleeping.”

“Huh?” My voice is light, feeble and a little skittish sounding.

“You mean to tell me you plan to sleep like that, sitting up?” He chuckles, deep and echoing throughout the room.

Then his hand in wrapped around my wrist, tugging me down towards the bed. My breath hitches slightly, but I slide down anyways and pretend my slip isn’t riding dangerously high on my thighs.

I stare at the ceiling, one hand on my chest and the other under the covers where his hand still circles my wrist. He’s brushing circles around the last scar, sending tingles up my arm, and I feel his eyes on my face and chest. I don’t know if I should turn to him, turn the other way, or do nothing at all. I focus on my breathing, in an out, in and—

“You know I can hear your thoughts, right? When you project them like you are now?”

Oh my god

Nope. No no no. I pull my wrist from his with an embarrassed groan and go to roll over, ignore his presence all together(ironic that that’s literally what I came here for).

But he catches my waist and pulls me back on to my back with a huff, then leans across me to my other wrist and pulls me to face him.

“Tell me about it.”

My cheeks flush as his breath fans my face, all mint and crisp apples. “About what?”

There’s a smile, a gleam in a sea of blue, “Your nightmare, pet.”

Oh… “I… well, it was Chaos’s lair.”

He perks up at that, tugging my wrist until I’m an inch closer.

I pull in a deep breath, stuttering through the memory. “I was held down by changelings while Luc…” I squeeze my eyes tight, feeling anxiety creep through my stomach and up my throat.

The hand at my wrist moves to my waist, squeezes, and pulls me against Jacks’s chest.

I gasp, “Jacks?” My hand falls on his chest, not sure whether to push away or lean closer.

Unfazed as always, Jacks sits his chin atop my forehead and softly whispers, “And what did the worthless little boy do?”

I sigh, almost dizzy from the lack of space between us. “He-he stood above me, he said some things I can’t really remember and then… lunged for my throat.”

I hear him exhale before both his arms wrap around me and I’m pulled onto his chest as he rolls over. I lift my head and meet his eyes, he-for maybe the first time ever-smiles at me in a soft, almost admiring way. He lifts a cold hand to brush a curl behind my ear, “You said you heard howls?”

“Uhm… yeah.” I’m on top of him, I’m on top of him, I’m literally on top of him. “It was just my mind though, I was a little freaked out…”

He laughs softly, “You must know, Little Fox, that I had no intentions of taking you there and letting them harm you.”

“No, I um… I know.” My hands are on his chest and my legs are straddling his thighs and he’s… nothing but solid muscle everywhere we meet.

“Good.” It’s a whisper, and his hand at my ear finds my nape, pulling my head down to his chest. His other hand reaches down and pulls the covers over me, the warmth a contrast to the coolness of his skin.

“What are we doing?“ I ask, muffled by his chest.

There’s a yawn, “Sleeping, my Little Fox, now shush.”

I go to protest at the amount of contact between us, but then the hand at my nape moves through my hair. He scratches my scalp soothingly and suddenly all protest dies on my tongue. Almost subconsciously, I begin drawing lazy patterns along his chest. It’s peaceful… calm.

“Safe.”

“Hm?” Jacks chest rumbles with the question. I barely even hear it from how heavy my eyelids feel.

“You… make me safe.”

There’s another hum, “but who saves you from me, Little Fox?”

[filthforfriends]

ok but that ask of abo dynamics? the thing you wrote? perfection.

take this as a request: keep writing that please i beg you (im beggin yoOuU). like what happened after that kiss, what happened as soon as she turned 16, i just need to know and my imagination isn't really good for that 😩

also im a sucker for abo dynamics, especially damiano being a really protective alpha

OKAY I'm gonna try to continue this one and hers a pic of how I imagine alpha!daminao

when he drops you off at your house, he goes inside to meet your parents. theres a chance that you scents will evolve based on your romantic and sexual connection, so he wants to meet them before that. alphas meeting their omega's parents is customary, since omega's may meet their lifelong mates, or vice versa, as young as 12 or 13. since its not uncommon for your first real mate to be your mate for life, getting off on the right foot with the parents is important to Damiano. what your parents think of his character and intentions concerns him. He wants to establish a good relationship with them.

of course he's Damiano: charismatic, eloquent, artistic, confident, and respectful of your boundaries. the fact that he's bothered to introduce himself so early is already scoring him points. but this is also a stepping stone so he doesn't just assume that he'll be introduced. he's actually kinda tactful and quiet about it. when he pulls back up to your house (adjusting his jeans multiple times) he asks, shy or even timid in a soft voice "do you want me to meet your parents? if not I understand! you don't know much about me yet, so if you'd prefer to mate until you're sure --" "I'm sure about you. come inside." he'd say okay and so one of those precious, genuine smiles that reaches his eyes.

your parents weren't stupid. they could sense a slight change when Damiano started to hang around you more. it was almost imperceptible, but your mom caught it. so although your parents are surprised to see Damiano, they're not really that surprised. figured this time would come soon. of course they're apprehensive about a 17 year old alpha being interested in their 15 year old daughter, but even sitting down for the tense, awkward conversation that you quickly excused yourself from evokes good will because its a sigh of quality character. after a rather long integration, they can tell that he's trustworthy.

you've retreated to your room to give them privacy, as is customary, and are just half assing your homework when theres a knock on your bedroom door. its not your parents or your older sisters, that you would recognize. you also recognize his smell. "come in, damiano" he steps into your room, more nervous than you. of course you trust Damiano to be in a room along with you, in fact the thought excites you as it does him, which is why hes nervous. being in such close quarters compels him to want to throw out the rule book and every social nicety he's supposed to comply with. he also knows that he's being watched very closely, so he leaves the door open completely.

"so, I'm gonna go." "and my folks?" "we're on good terms, I'm sure I'll meet them again before you're birthday." you understand what he means. once strong mutual chemistry is established between a mating pair, the world seems to throw them together at every opportunity. in reality, its all pheromones, you're attracted to eachother not just aesthetically, but chemically, and seek the other out subconsciously (and consciously of course.) the inevitability of Damiano is so exciting, and although you knew this was probably coming, now that its here, everything feels very sudden.

"you look" Damiano sighs, cocking his head to the side trying to read your expression "not scared, but...shaken?" you think about it for a second "I feel grounded, its just very new, I think." he's nod, shoving his hands in his pockets while standing in your doorway. you want to leap off the bed, across the room, and throw yourself at him full force. "y/n, we're gonna start the barbecue on the back porch! your sisters will be home for dinner soon!" you hear the back door slide open and closed, which is giving permission for something, at least for you and Daminao to be in the same room together without supervision.

"just come inside Damiano, I don't bite," you joke. of course sinking your teeth into Damiano mid heat sounded positively delightful. he'd close the door behind himself and lean against it. "what are you so far away?" you'd tease, bubbly from his proximity, but Damiano's energy is in a very different place. "what's wrong?" "we have to pause the physical aspect of our relationship, which is going to hurt you. and I have to go." he tries to be stoic but is actually biting back passion and carnal desire. his words burn behind your eyes, but you try to maintain composure. "and right now? today? its not like I have another alpha I can go to and get a knot from so I can stop sitting in. a pool of my own slick." "you'll calm down." his words are anything but confident, like he's trying to convince himself. "don't you remember the first time someone turned you on like this? when does it go away?" Damiano's silence was answer enough. "how many knots did it take until the ache stopped?" your jaw is set, as though anything could ward off the desperation. in every way but physical, you were raw, exposed to the elements. the sensation had passed uncomfortable and was steadily on its way towards excruciating.

"I don't know how many, three or four at least." he was avoiding eye contact, but you hadn't expected an answer so honest. "but I can't do that for you, you'll go into heat. I already talked to your parents, I know--" "can we please not talk about my parents right now." "y/n, I know you're not on hormone suppressants. I know you just got on birth control. It might not even be fully effective right now." "it's been over two weeks! I'm fine! you're just looking for excuses!" and really there wasn't a worse time to be rejected. you were supposed to be irresistible right now. it should be taking everything inside Damiano to hold back: his scent on you, slick between your legs, an enthusiastic mate, an optimal location. these factors should be intensifying one another. sure Damiano looked like he was in pain, but you did want him suffering, you wanted him to break.

"is there something about me that isn't sexy to you yet? is that why we have to wait!?" you interrogated. Damiano let out one of those unhinged laughs and shook his head, looking up as he sighed. "um, no. you're young and fertile and unmarked and I'm trying not to think about how soft your skin is but I fucking can't now because we kissed and I can't fucking breath without remembering how soft you were and nice to hold and grab and have and touch." "have me! touch me!" Damiano shook his head, putting his face in his hands and letting out a breath that sounded positively exhausted. "no, they're things you need to learn and I can't be the one to teach you." "that makes no fucking sense!" you finally yelled, getting off your bed to stand up. "why can't you --" "because I don't want to scare you away! you still think that alpha's want to be Prince Charming for their omegas! you still believe in soul mates that will do anything for eachother, but we can't change who we are!"

"so you won't knot me till I believe love is a lie?" "what the? fuck! no, y/n its not about love, its not about having and touching! I want to fucking devour you, okay? I don't want to make gentle love to you, I want to own you. I want to possess you. I want to consume you. Its not pretty, or romantic. We're animals! Once you take on your first mate you give up a piece of your humanity and you never get it back. You allow yourself to be debased and never get all your decency back. So you, right now, pure, healthy, willing, fucking delicious. You're offering yourself to me and I can smell your pre-cum drying on your thighs, so all I want to do is ruin you for anyone else. And thats not what our first time is going to be! okay? so end of discussion."

[avintagekiss24]

—belated; bucky barnes

pairing: mob!bucky barnes x black!reader

word count: 4738

warnings: 18+ ONLY, smut, sex, rough sex, anal sex, biting kink, choking kink, spanking, pain kink, vaginal fingering, mean bucky (my fave), ring kink cuz i love it when boys wear rings

squares filled: @buckybarnesbingo Y3: Birthdays ; @badthingshappenbingo Biting ; @star-spangled-bingo N1: Taking Charge

request: bucky barnes + "pay attention to me or i'll make you" + anal + choking + spanking + biting + pain

author note: it's been foreverrrrr! i'm so sorry! i had to work myself through a little slump! hopefully this makes up for the almost two months we've gone without a fic! this is story #2 for my 5k celebration, all fics will be tagged #5k...holy god. this was formatted in the beta text post editor on desktop, if anything looks weird, that's why :)

gif by @pedropcl ; line divider by @firefly-graphics

James Buchanan Barnes is possessive.

One of those massive hands around the back of your neck as you walk casually through the streets. Fingers wrapped around your wrist, or shoulder, or hip in a tight grip. He pulls you in close— right into his side as shopping bags hang from the tips of his metal fingers.

Bucky Barnes wants every man on the streets of Greece to know that you are his.

Not that you mind; quite the contrary. You just smile and giggle when he throws his heavy arm around your shoulders and hooks the crease of his arm right underneath your chin. Slip your hand into the back pocket of his loose dark jeans (giving that little tush of his a squeeze). Slink your arm around his little waist and breathe in his scent— heavy and woodsy— as the two of you stroll.

After all, he’s just as much yours as you are his.

All of his friends, Sam, Steve, Clint, all see the change in him. The little soft spot for you that blinds him entirely— turns him in a mushy puddle of emotions and puppies and rainbows. Very different from the Bucky they grew up with, but a Bucky that the three of them have come to enjoy. It’s a change of pace from the enforcer they know.

The two of you don’t talk about his work— in fact, it’s the reason why you’re in Greece to begin with. A late birthday present to make up for the fact that his “work” just happened to be the waiter at the restaurant he chose to take you to for your thirty second birthday. Come on babe, he chuckled as you scowled back at him over the rim of your wine glass, watching as he stained his white napkin red with his bloody knuckles, you know what they say, kill two birds with one stone… not funny?

Two weeks, two nonrefundable, open ended tickets, and five grand in bikinis, shorts, and shoes later, you’re getting some much needed Greek sun on your deep brown skin.

He’s even letting you call the shots for a change. Letting you wake him up at the ass crack of dawn to have breakfast— a spread of breads, cheeses and fruits on the balcony of your room as the sun rises. He doesn’t say a word as you drag him through the city, stopping at each little boutique and shoe store. Sits patiently as you try on every dress, every skirt, and every silk top in the entire country it seems.

Bucky even bit his lip as you gazed at engagement rings— hinting that princess cut is your favorite as you held your hand up into the natural sunlight as one adored your finger. Smiling over at him and wiggling your eyebrows all the while as he narrowed his eyes and plastered a fake smile on his face.

Today has been like all the others, a lazy day spent on the beach, a quick nap underneath an umbrella, a concoction of too much sun and too many margaritas going straight to your head. Now, you’re kinda sleepy and kinda drunk, but most importantly hungry— and Mykonos sounds like a great place for dinner. Despite Bucky’s objections (you’re too tired and too drunk to handle a ferry), you’re dressed in a cute little flowery sundress, him in an out-of-character white tank top, open pale blue and green striped button down and khaki chinos— you forbade him from bringing anything black— and you’re flip flops are slapping against the cobblestone street towards the ferry.

“Drop your attitude,” You say, glancing over your shoulder as he pays for your tickets, “You owe me.”

“Yeah, yeah, that excuse is wearing thin, girl.” You stumble a little with the motion of the ferry as you step onto it, having to grab onto the railing to steady yourself before Bucky grabs hold of your wrist, “Water only for the rest of the night.”

His voice is low and borderline threatening as he presses his lips right against your ear, and you know not to press him any further. You like to stick your toes right up against his line and that’s what irritates him most about you (always what he loves most), but you and he both know you’d never dare cross it.

Bucky pulls you behind him, hand around your wrist, that possessive trait rearing its head as male eyes fall on you as the two of you pass by. He finds an empty spot, away from the crowd, and plops down on the bench as you step up on the lower rung of the railing and stare out over the sea.

Within twenty or thirty minutes, the ferry pulls away from the dock and you can’t wipe the smile from your face. The sun sets off in the distance, the bright lights of the city turning into little pinpoints. Small droplets of the cool, salty water splashes up in your face as the wind and the ferry whips it up. You keep glancing down at the phone in your hand as you broadcast your current view to your instagram, laughing softly as hearts and emojis explode on your screen.

You lean forward, tilting your phone and smiling wide, waving into the camera before you shout out how much you love it here. The words are barely out of your mouth before an arm wraps around your middle, a wide, hard chest pressed into your back, “That’s enough,” he reaches with his metal arm, grabbing your phone, ending your live feed, “You’re too drunk to be hanging off the side like that.”

“I am not,” you struggle against him lightly as he sets you on your feet, “What is your problem?”

“I’m annoyed.”

“Well, duh. Why?”

He slips your phone into his pocket and crosses his arms over his chest, sharp blue eyes piercing into yours, “Pay attention to me,” he says low, eyes dropping down your body real slow as he drags his bottom lip between his teeth, “Or I’ll make you.”

So that’s what it’s about. Bucky Barnes feels neglected between all the shopping and beach days and margaritas. Jealousy is cute on him.

The words though, they strike you right to your core— feel them down to your bones. A hard swallow pushes through your throat as your lips part, big brown eyes softening as your breath starts to rush a little harder. You hate to admit— not really— you love this Bucky. This is work Bucky, a man you rarely get to see. Slightly scary, anger brimming just below the surface. Jaw tight, eyes hard, head tilted just a bit. He’s menacing, and it makes your lips twitch into a small smile.

Shrugging defiantly, you cross your arms over your chest, “You didn’t pay much attention to me on my birthday.”

“Not true.”

“Not true?” you nearly shout, eyes going wide, “I ate alone while you beat the hell outta our waiter behind the building! I had to wait two hours for my slice of cake!”

“How is that my fault?”

You scoff, “Oh, I dunno, maybe because our waiter was spitting out his teeth in the alley out back— all thanks to you.”

“I have to work. You know that.”

“Not,” you hiss, “On my fucking birthday.”

He knows he’s wrong for that shit, so he stands there, huffing quick before he cocks his head again and just blinks back at you— unamused. He won’t apologize, it’s just not in his nature, but his usual attempts to make you happy after he’s fucked up aren’t working; so he’s at a loss.

And you’re enjoying that. A little too much if you ask him.

But alas, it’s not fun to fight on vacation, and you have taken far too many liberties when it comes to his tolerance for attitude. It’s been fun— and you’re just drunk enough to push him one last time.

You move slow, walking right up to him, so close that each inhale pushes your tits into his body. The smirk quirked up on your lips grows as you peer up at him, eyes bouncing between his as you place your hands on his forearms still crossed over his chest.

Bucky lifts his eyebrow as you push up on your tiptoes and push your chin forward to bring your lips close to his, “And just how are you gonna make me pay attention to you, James?”

He inhales deep, pushes it out real slow as he tilts his head even further. A smile spreads on his face and you just know that this is the last thing his work sees before he rearranges the bones of their face. This is exactly why his clients pay him as well as they do.

Thick fingers are wrapped around your wrist again, nails digging into your skin as he starts to pull you behind him. He weaves you through bodies, you nearly having to jog to keep up with his strides. Laughter bubbles up in your chest, a little shriek escaping as he pulls you down some stairs to the lower level of the ferry. Once your feet hit the last step, Bucky whips you around his body, sending you spinning and laughing until you bounce into an old, rusty metal barrel.

The smell of salt fills your nose and lungs as you inhale, covering your face with your hands. Your skin is hot, lips slightly numb as you dissolve into laughter again. He’s right, you’re a little too drunk for this.

“I don’t think we’re supposed to be down here.” You mumble, brushing your wild hair out of your face.

“I could give a fuck,” he answers, stepping up to you, grabbing your face in his hands, “You’ve been testing me the entire time we’ve been here all over some stupid shit.”

Another giggle pushes through your lips as you bat your eyes, “I wouldn’t dare, Mr. Barnes.”

Bucky sucks his teeth as he drops his metal hand around your throat and squeezes gently, the rings on his fingers cool against your skin, “I was stupid, okay? But don’t put on that little innocent act, girl. You’re trying me, and I’ve had enough.”

A smile cracks onto your face, teeth sinking into your bottom lip. You wrap both hands around his one wrist and slip them up his arm, feeling the soft metal as you continue to goad him, “You got some proof, big man?”

The tip of his black and gold thumb prods at your lip, pushes just inside. You wrap your tongue around it and suck gently, keeping your eyes on his all the while.

Bucky laughs, deep and earnestly, “Proof, she says. She needs proof.” He glances around before he spins you quick, facing you away from him as he lifts your dress to reveal your pink satin thong.

You squeal loud, pushing and slapping at his hand as he grabs a handful of your ass, “Bucky! There’s people!” you laugh, “Oh my god!”

“Keep your voice down,” he warns, wrapping his metal fingers around your throat again, “Understand?”

A jolt of electricity flashes through you as you wiggle in his grasp. He tightens his grip around your neck as you wrap your fingers around the edge of the barrel, swallowing hard.

“That requires an answer, honey.”

The chill in his voice, added with the slow circles and soft tickles of fingertips against the back of your naked thigh sends a pang through your belly, “I understand.”

He chuckles soft and with a quick peck on the cheek whispers, “Good girl.”

Bucky curls his left arm around your chest, hooking your chin in the crease of his arm as he grips your right shoulder. You grab on to it with both hands, out of instinct, eyes wide and skirting around for any signs of other human presence down here. Bucky turns, moving you with him to eye the steps quickly again before that flesh hand sweeps around to the front.

The soft material of your dress falls over his hand as he rubs your stomach— his rings catching and snagging your skin. That hand pushes downward, over your thighs, gripping and kneading the soft flesh before he grabs the hem of your dress and pulls it upward, exposing those expensive panties again.

“Bucky,” you hum, his name trembling on your lips with the vibrations of your excitement, “Baby.”

He rucks your dress right up— right up around your waist and pulls the slack behind you, pressing his body into yours to keep it in place. The dark stubble adorning his cheeks and chin cuts into the side of your face as he nuzzles in, humming to himself soft before he kisses the corner of your mouth.

Those fingertips start to trace the hem of your thong— slowly. Back and forth, back and forth. From hip to hip. Your eyes flutter. Fingers grip the soft black metal of his arm a little harder. Legs go to jelly as another hard swallow passes through your throat.

“Ain’t got all that mouth now, do you?” He whispers, fingers slipping just inside the silk of your panties to tease the delicate skin underneath.

When he slips his hand in— all the way in— cupping hot skin, fingers dancing between folds and teasing a wet slit, an influx of air fills your lungs. A gasp, small and clipped sounds in the back of your throat as his fingers start a rhythm. You melt into him, head resting on his shoulder as your hips push forward to meet greedy fingers.

A naughty finger pushes in quick, and then a second— all the way to the black and silver rings dressed on them. His arm tightens around your neck as he presses his lips right against your ear, “You need to apologize.”

He fucks his fingers into you, withdrawing slow, and then pushing back in— each time the edges of his rings stopping him from going deeper. You can’t help but purr as you continue to grip his arm with both of your hands.

“I don’t think—“

“All I want to hear,” his words clip yours, each one slow and drawn and deep, “Is I’m sorry for testing your patience. I won’t do it again.” He curls his fingers, the pads stroking that sweet little spongey spot, making you clamp your legs closed around his hand, “Let me hear you.”

You can’t. You won’t. Too stubborn and too drunk to give in to him, wanting to win just this once.

If there’s one thing James Buchanan Barnes does not like, it’s hesitation. It’s dangerous, he always says. You think too long, you get hurt. Predators don’t hesitate.

Well, you like being his prey.

Only a few seconds pass before Bucky tuts in your ear, seemingly disappointed in your obstinate behavior, but you both know it’s just the opposite. His cock pressing into your ass tells you so.

The fingers disappear. The arm choking you just right pulls away and your dress falls back around the middle of your thighs. You huff, wiping quick at your forehead and pushing your wild, curly hair out of your face again.

Your hands find your hips in irritation but he slaps them away quick as he sucks his teeth, “You must really want this spanking, girl. Keep it up.”

That you do— keep it up. Huffing again. Crossing your arms over your chest like a petulant child. Brown eyes cut back at him over your shoulder to find sharp blues already on you. A smirk on his face.

Metal fingers curl around the back of your neck, pushing you forward gently until your thighs press against the old metal barrel again.

“Lean forward, kitten.”

Voice as smooth as silk while you do so, gripping the rusted edges for balance. Your dress is yanked up again— rough this time— and twisted around his Vibranium hand. Then there’s warm, the warmth of skin against yours. Gentle brushes of fingers and a palm rubbing slow circles, then pinching and grabbing soft— prepping your skin for what’s to come.

He pauses for just a second, no doubt to scan your surroundings and then pulls his hand away. You lung forward with the slap he levels to your behind within a fraction of a second— the sound sharp and heavy.

There’s another, and then a third in quick succession before he’s massaging your skin again. Real soft and sweet. Tears burn at the back of your eyes at the sting that radiates through, all the way to your bones but the molten heat deep in your belly spreads like a fire. Each breath is hard and shaky, heart thumping against your chest but it’s so good.

Bucky switches to the other cheek, skilled fingers sweeping over your canvas of skin before he cracks you— one, two, three.

You squeal with each one. The thud of those heavy rings around his fingers send a quick, new shockwave every time, building on the one before it. The tips of your fingers go red from holding on to the rusty old barrel as tight as you are, but your brain? She’s fuzzy and warm, and drifting up into the clouds with each swift slap.

Bucky is a methodical man. Three for the right cheek, three for the left, three right in the middle. His hand sneaks around your hip, giving it a squeeze before it comes back around and drops to the inside of your thigh. Grabs the meat of it— digs his fingernails in just to hear you yelp. Cups your cunt in his palm, feeling the heat and the wet— makes him groan all low and dirty.

He bunches your hair in his hand, tugs you up by it. Spins you around to face him before hoisting you up and settling you on top of the barrel.

“You want me to fuck you so bad, don’t you?” He growls, ripping at the button and zipper of his jeans.

You just hum in response, wrapping your legs around his waist and throwing your arms over his shoulders.

Bucky grabs your chin, forcing it up before he squeezes your cheeks, “Huh? Answer me.”

Damp eyelashes flutter as hot air escapes from parted, hot lips. He leans in real close, cock pushing right at your slit and kisses you hard as he slips his arm around your waist. He breaks away quick, sloppy and loud before pecking your lips once, twice, three times again.

“You want me to fuck you, girl?”

The weight of his words are felt right down to your core, a shiver passing between the two of you. You let your heavy head fall back and your eyes close as Bucky nuzzles into the side of your face, his pretty white teeth skipping along your neck, nipping and nibbling.

“I want you to fuck me,” you whisper after mere seconds, finally submitting in this cat and mouse game, “Bucky, please.”

That’s all he needs— all he wants. For you to submit, after letting you have the reins for one day too long. He sinks into you slow, spreading you open with each inch, biting down into the side of your neck as he bottoms out. His teeth dig in a little deeper, a little harder as he starts to move, rocking back and forth almost succinct with the waves of the water.

You’re moving with him too, meeting each of his thrusts with your hips. You keep your legs tight around his waist, feet dangling and bouncing against the back of his thighs. A trail of hot kisses are pressed along your neck and down your shoulder before traipsing back up— teeth grazing along your jaw.

Long fingers skip up your side and between your bouncing tits to only wrap around your neck again. They squeeze, gently, as his pace starts to pick up, hips shoving harder and faster— that old barrel starting to scrape against the wood floor.

The force makes you louder, moaning with abandon as if the two of you are all alone on this little ferry. Bucky makes quick work of you, shoving metal fingers into your mouth— giving you something to suck on to keep you quiet.

“That’s a good girl.” he growls, voice gritty and low.

He’s punishing after that. Each snap of his hips thrusting you backward, the barrel you’re on top of tipping back and then slapping down on the floor. You yelp with each one, your mouth going slack around his digits as your hands fall to the edges of the barrel for some semblance of balance.

It’s obscene, the way you can hear your fuck. The wet of your cunt. The squeak of his cock plunging into tight, slick muscles. The heavy thud of his hips pounding into yours. The slap of your flip flops falling to the wood floor as he’s quite literally fucked them right off of your feet. It’s filthy— crude— and so very Bucky.

You’re back on your feet before you know it— before you realize it. Spun back around, Bucky’s hard chest and stomach pressed into your back. He grabs both of your hands and places them back on the barrel, his metal hand staying on top of yours, fingers gripping fingers.

Eager hips wiggle back into his as you hiss and sink your teeth into your bottom lip, groaning low. Your head drops when you feel his cock push through your ass cheeks— wet cockhead pressing against your hot rim.

He starts to fumble around behind you, each passing second making you more and more impatient. There’s a soft click, and then a light suction sound— something squeezing.

“Bucky,” you hiss, pushing back into him again, “Hur—”

The word breaks off right in the middle as he levels a quick smack against your hip— a warning. Then your ass cheeks are pulled apart, wet, slimy fingers sliding and prodding at your quivering rim. He brushes slow strokes, circling, pressing his fingers gently as he preps your little hole for what’s to come.

“What kind of freak brings lube to dinner?” you smile, gasping as he pinches the inside of your thigh.

You lurch forward when he grabs the back of your neck and yanks you back into him, lips right against your cheek, “The kinda freak that was gonna fuck you in an alley after dinner. Now shut that mouth.”

He’s pressing again, this time harder, his cockhead popping into you with force. You grunt with the initial intrusion, Bucky stopping his assault to allow you time to adjust to him— but that doesn’t last long. Your mouth goes slack again. Eyes slam shut, head falls forward as he slips in, deeper and deeper and deeper until his stomach is flush with your ass.

He wiggles— so you can feel him, feel him tickling the deepest part of you. Slaps at your ass again, quick, fingers glancing off your skin and leaving behind a hell of a sting. Then he’s fucking you again, slower this time, savoring the tight, glove-like hold your body provides.

Metal fingers grab at the hem of your dress again, tugging it up before they push back into your panties, finding a swollen, hot nub. Pinching and rubbing smooth circles against it, flicking and thrashing at the bundle of nerves before he shoves his fingers back into your cunt. They curl, those fingers, and pet your insides with surgical precision— only James Buchanan Barnes knows how to fuck you like this.

The heel of his palm slams against your clit as he fingers you rough and fucks your ass with gusto. Sleazy sounds gurgle up in your throat, the slapping of skin and the waves crashing against the side of the ferry, the rush of the wind filling your ears. Bucky pulls you flush against him and slithers his tongue just beneath your ear before his teeth grab a hold, tugging soft.

Teeth keep nipping— along your jaw, your cheeks, ears, neck. He fucks into you hard as he shoves his flesh hand into the neckline of your dress, gripping your tits. Pinching and kneading hard, thick nipples, mumbling sweet nothings all the while.

Your stomach churns, muscles tensing and flexing as synapses start to fire off in quick succession. Quick goosebumps pop up along your skin as your stomach tightens and you can taste it it’s so close. Bucky knows it, feels it as your walls constrict around his fingers, your asshole tightening around him. Vibranium fingers keep rubbing, keep fucking into your pussy hard, palm slapping against your clit, adding more and more pressure until the coil snaps.

It’s hard, and sudden— your body freezing as your orgasm consumes you. Bucky clamps a wet hand over your mouth as you mewl and bite into his palm, your hips thrusting forward with each wave of your release. He pulls his fingers from you to slap at your jumping clit, pressing the pads into it before he rubs quick little circles and then slaps at it again.

He drops his hand to your chin, yanking it up as you nearly cry, mewling and trembling with your release to kiss you hard and sloppy as you come. He kneads your tits with his mammoth hand as aftershocks flash through you, your used body jerking at random. Within seconds, there's a cloud of warmth in your ass. Rough grunts in your ear, growing louder with each spurt of his cock, your hot muscles milking him.

You let him use you, let him fill you up full of his silk. Grab his hands and lace your fingers with his as he empties long ribbons in you. Pull his arms around your waist and hold them there as he rides it out, his head falling to your shoulder. The two of you stand there, resting against that old barrel, breathing hard, skin sticky and balmy. Salt from the ocean in your nose.

Bucky’s the first to pull away, glancing back at the stairs before he pulls himself gingerly from you, leaving your body empty, a dribble of his come slipping out with him. He catches it with his fingers, drags them up the back of your thigh and between your ass cheeks before he shrugs out of his collared shirt and white tank top.

He cleans you up sweet with the tank top. Keeps his arm around your waist to steady you as he wipes at your thighs and your hot, sticky, puffy cunt, shushing you soft when you jump and whimper at the contact. He flings the messy tank top over the side of the ferry and rubs your hips and stomach real slow, murmuring into your ear all the while.

Diligent fingers then rearrange your thong— and cop a little feel, cupping your sensitive, swollen sex, giving it a little pinch so he can laugh when you shiver and squeak. Bucky pulls your dress, tugging lightly to get it back straight around your waist before smoothing it over your ass and thighs— even pulls at the top, making sure your tits are sitting pretty.

You can’t even open your eyes, overcome by alcohol and sleepiness and a post sex high. He fumbles with your fingers as your head lulls on his shoulder, a soft hum vibrating in your throat in your murky haze. Bucky lifts your arm by the elbow, sliding his hand up your forearm until he’s cupping your hand in his.

“Open your eyes, baby.” You groan in protest, causing a chuckle to rumble through his chest, “Come on.”

So you do. You always do whatever this man wants you to do— and there, right on your finger sits that big princess cut engagement ring you teased him with days before.

“How about we skip dinner and find a church, huh?” he whispers, kissing your cheek soft and sweet.

You glance at him over your shoulder, eyes wet as a smirk tugs at the corners of your mouth, “And if I say no?”

“You just can’t help yourself, can you?” He laughs as you adjust in his arms, pushing up on your tiptoes to cup his handsome face and kiss him on those pretty pink lips, “Then I guess I’ll have to fuck some sense into that pretty mouth of yours, won’t I birthday girl?”