#i feel like my specific tastes are very on show when someone gives me an open ended prompt like this

[cheeriecherrymain]

I see ur requests are open and... i have an odd one, if you're willing. Viktor with a s/o who asks if he could be more possessive for a night? Like, reader would never intentionally make Viktor jealous but they like the fantasy of it, if that makes sense?

Whether you do this ask or not, I just want to say i adore your writing. Its like a warm hug on a rainy day <3

Once again, I have taken the prompt in my mouth and run away, and this time no one was there to get to me to spit it out. I'm sorry, it's a little bit chewed.

---

Viktor x fem!Reader (18+)

Content tags: some guy being gross and handsy (brief) | Reader being anxious (brief) | possessive Viktor | semi-public sex | p in v | fingering | squirting | lol it's a little messy | meanie Viktor | but also softie Viktor | safewords in place but not used

---

-You can feel the eyes on you, as you wander around the crowded event hall. Sidelong glances from other patrons as you pass them by, their gazes lingering for a few seconds before their attention is drawn elsewhere.

-You don’t stand out amongst the other partygoers - your clothing is simple and elegant, draping and folding over your body in the most flattering way. Your jewelry, though heavy at your throat and wrists, is mundane, even as it sparkles in the light of the chandeliers above.

-But despite all this, despite so totally blending in with the crowd, you can’t shake the sensation that you’re being watched. Not just looked at as a passing thought, but actively followed throughout the room. Yet you can’t seem to find your potentially unwanted guest.

-You crane your neck in every direction, hoping to detect any kind of suspicious movement. You’re honestly a little bit angry about how flustered all this is making you: you don’t even know that you are being watched. For all you know, there could be no threat whatsoever, and you could be getting worked up over nothing.

- “Shit!” you hiss, as you collide face-first into some unwitting person dressed in a fancy suit. “I’m sorry - I wasn’t watching where I was going!”

-You expect a solid reprimand for your actions, a verbal lashing for being careless and airheaded, and for having the audacity to interact with someone of such important stature.

-But nothing comes.

- “It’s alright,” the man chimes, flashing you with a blindingly charismatic smile. “The wine is still in the glass, so there’s no harm done. It can be hard to navigate around these things, without stepping on any toes.”

-He then leans down towards you, lowering his voice just slightly, “Both literally and figuratively.”

-The joke is old and overused, but it brings a charmed smile to your features nonetheless. You’re lucky that you’ve managed to run into someone so forgiving in spirit. Or…so you think.

-You move to make your escape, hoping to dodge any kind of conversation with the man, polite as he is, but the moment you turn away you feel a hand resting heavy on your waist. You want to pretend that you don’t notice the touch, you want to disappear into the crowd again, but then the stupid music also starts up again and the swaths of people begin to organize.

-Sectioning off into pairs or making haste to their seats, you’ve nowhere to disappear to without making a total ass of yourself. So, you do what any woman in your situation would: you turn around with a practiced smile, right into the waiting arms of a total stranger.

-It’s not a short dance by any means - no one comes up to the two of you to swap partners, and you’re unable to find an opening to quickly dash out of his arms. He holds you a little too tightly, a little too closely, for it to be friendly or comfortable. And god, you can smell the champagne on his breath, with how near he keeps you.

-And you still haven’t been able to shake the feeling of being watched.

-But then finally, finally, luck seems to line up in your favour. The music breaks off for a few moments, throwing off the rhythm of those still meandering around the dancefloor. Someone collides hard with your captor, jarring him enough that he releases you - and like you’d hoped, the first thing his attention is drawn to is the potential argument with the other guest.

-Leaving you just enough time to silently slink away, weaving around tables, to sneak out the main entrance to the room.

-It’s a little cooler in the hallway, though it’s hardly easier to breathe. You’re still wound up from everything that’s gone on, still on edge from all the touching and noise and bright lights and-

-You take a breath.

-It’s fine, you tell yourself, taking a few wobbly steps forward. The hallway is significantly less crowded than the prior room had been. Fewer eyes on you, if they even pay you any mind to begin with. It’s fine. He hasn’t followed you. He didn’t see you leave. You’re fine.

-But there it comes again, the feeling of being stared at.

-Like an electric shock up your spine, the panic sets in. Your pace quickens and you make your way briskly down the hall, praying to whatever deity might be out there that you won’t trip on your dress, or catch the toe of your shoe on the carpet.

-One foot, after the other, again and again.

-Turning down twisting hallways, until you finally end up alone.

-But you don’t feel alone. The floor is soft, too quiet for you to be able to detect any sound of footsteps.

-A glance around you confirms that yes, you’re definitely alone. But for how long? And with how far you’ve gone, what if you have been followed? What if you get hassled, or worse - would anyone hear you calling for help? Would anyone-

-You quickly duck into one of the many smaller rooms that line the corridor, swiftly shutting the door behind you.

-As if anyone would actually be able to get the drop on you, you think, your anxiety waning by a fraction. You throw a mean right hook, and you wore flats specifically in case you had to run.

-You take a second to catch your breath, leaning hard against the solid door. The room you’re in is probably the best you could have chosen, despite you not knowing where anything is. It’s spacious, but not overly so - the ceilings are a normal height, instead of arching high above in a display of grandiosity.

-It looks to be some sort of casual meeting room, with a couple of filled bookshelves, and couches laid out around an old fireplace. Unused, by the look of it, but you suppose it’s more about the flair than the functionality.

-You don’t pay mind to much else after that: you don’t need to. The room is dark, save for the moonlight from the windows lining one wall, and you’re finally relaxed enough to settle on one of the plush surfaces offered to you.

-You stare at the empty fireplace.

-You sigh.

-Your night wasn’t supposed to go like this.

-You were supposed to have fun, you were supposed to try weird, tasty fingerfoods, and laugh, and joke, and dance with your friends. You were supposed to spend time with your boyfriend, who for whatever reason, had decided not to show up.

-You sigh.

-Maybe it’s for the best that he didn’t come tonight. 

-He’s never been a particularly possessive person, nor is he very confrontational: but had he known about the other partygoer bothering you, making you uncomfortable and nervous and what not? He would have stepped in.

-And judging by the way your would-be assailant jumped at the chance to cuss out someone who had the audacity to disturb his dance with you, you don’t doubt that someone would have gotten punched.

-You don’t fancy your boyfriend with a black eye.

—

-You stay there for several minutes, reclining comfortably on the soft couch and letting your tired feet rest. It’s nice, sitting in the dark and the quiet, with only the distant din of the party to disturb you. No one passes by your little hiding place, or comes to tell you to leave. It’s just you, curled up, on the brink of dozing off.

-Until a sound brings you out of your trance.

-It’s brief, and you wonder for a moment if you really heard it, but - no, there it is again. It takes a moment for you to place where it’s coming from, but when you do, panic sets in anew. 

-The jiggling of a doorknob.

-If not someone here to actively bother you, then definitely some unwitting patron hoping to find a moment of reprieve. Or someone to scold you and kick you out - were you even supposed to be in here? Surely the door wouldn’t have been unlocked if you could get in trouble for wandering. With the party so close by, nothing of value would have been kept-

- “Miláček?” the lilted tone comes from the doorway as it cracks open, soft, but not so low as a whisper. “Are you in there?”

-All at once, your anxiety dissipates, and it feels like you can breathe again. “I’m here,” you breathe, allowing the tension to finally ease out of your shoulders. God, you were going to have some kind of headache tomorrow - if you couldn’t already feel one starting.

-Viktor slips inside the room just as sneakily as you had, shutting the door behind him. He stands there for a few moments, glancing around trying to find your person while his eyes adjusted to the sudden change in light.

- “Over here,” you tell him, biting back a laugh at the sight of him squinting towards a variety of shadows. “On the couch- no, the other couch- Viktor, the other, other couch.”

-You know he’s just toying with you, trying to make you giggle at his aimless bumbling. And it works, a smile finally tugging at the corners of your mouth.

-Probably your first real expression of the evening.

- “You know,” he says, once he’s settled comfortably beside you, with his arm tossed leisurely over the back of the couch. “You are remarkably difficult to find.”

-You scoot closer to him, allowing yourself to tilt sideways until you’re resting against him. He’s warm, and familiar, and you can’t control the sense of relief that washes through you when his arm slips from the couch to instead wrap over your shoulders, drawing you closer.

- “It was by design,” you admit, with a pout. “I couldn’t find you at the party, and some guy decided that was incentive to latch onto me. I was trying to escape him.”

-Viktor hums once to himself, in consideration.

-You’re…not sure why that makes you nervous.

-It’s a different sort of anxiety than you’d been feeling previously - you’re not filled with dread or fear, or…really any kind of negative emotion. Yet your heart rate has started to pick up, thumping harder in your chest and making it more difficult to find your breath.

- “I saw you,” he says bluntly.

-Your eyes widen.

- “You were quite quick on your feet, in the crowd,” he explains, his arm tightening around you. “I did try to catch up, but you kept disappearing on me.”

-You smush your cheek against him, readying an apology for not noticing him. But he, much to your surprise, shushed you with a single finger before you can even start speaking.

- “Imagine my annoyance,” he continues, a slender digit pressed over your lips, “Upon finding you with someone else? Some tall, blond, apparently belligerent man, who was most definitely not part of the plan we’d made tonight.”

-You swallow the lump in your throat, unable to quell the fluttering in your stomach as he stares hard into your eyes. Allowing you to see the disdain for the man who’d had his hands all over you, the irritation he’d felt in those moments where he hadn’t been able to say anything.

-And the amusement for what was to come.

- “Stand up,” he says suddenly, his hands leaving your body so he can lean away, “And take off your dress.”

-Heat immediately creeps up your neck.

- “What about the door?” you squeak, already embarrassed by the thought of someone walking in and seeing you stark naked. “I didn’t hear you lock it.”

-Viktor sighs.

- “There was no one in the hallway when I came in,” he says, already a little impatient. “And if someone does walk in…well. Let them watch, then. At least they’ll know that you’re mine.”

-You’re borderline ashamed at how wholly a single word affects you. Sending little tremors down every nerve in your body, you rise to your feet in a sudden daze, pulling hastily at the strings and buttons on the back of your dress.

-By design, it was fairly easy to get in and out of - loosen a couple of ribbons here and there, and the entire thing would slide flawlessly off your body. But no matter how you fumble with every knot, nothing seems to be fast enough - it only takes you about ten seconds to divest yourself of the fine silk, but it’s ten seconds too long.

-Ten seconds that Viktor isn’t touching you.

-To your credit, you do manage to rid yourself of your gown eventually, letting it pool at your feets for a moment before stepping out and kicking it aside. You take a step back towards your boyfriend, intent on finding your favourite spot in his lap.

-But he stops you.

-You hesitate slightly, and a question dies on your tongue when you see the crooked little smirk of amusement on his face.

- “On the table,” he orders gently, nodding towards the low centerpiece set up between all the couches. “Spread your legs for me, and don’t try to hide yourself. I want to see you.”

-You chew the inside of your cheek for a moment, before nodding. The polished, lacquered wood is a sudden chill of your backside, sending goosebumps prickling across your flushed skin. You don’t know why you’re so entirely bothered over just a few simple words, mildly humiliated by the way your boyfriend leers at you, even moreso by the chance that someone could actually walk in.

-Would he actually let them watch, you wonder. Would he actually fuck you in front of a total stranger?

- “Spread your legs,” he demands again, his tone a little sharper, when you sit there lost in thought for a couple seconds too long.

-You do as you’re told.

-You meet his demands enthusiastically, spreading yourself wider and wider as each order falls past his lips. All while he watches from the comfort of the couch, staring at you with an almost mean sort of pleasure.

- “Touch yourself,” he tells you, his own hands moving to the buttons of his trousers. “I can already see how soaked you are from here - are you really so affected by me, drahý? Or have you been dripping and wanting all night?”

-You whine quietly, your own hand dipping down between your legs. It’s you, you want to tell him, when you feel the slickness gathering below - but you know better than to speak when he hasn’t asked you to.

-He watches for a little while, slowly stroking himself to full hardness, while you work little circles over your clit. It’s not enough to make you come, not enough to even bring you close, but it certainly succeeds in making you wetter: and in providing a good show for him.

-Him, telling you when to slow down your movements, when to speed them up. Even when to slide two fingers into your drenched hole, and when to curl them against that perfect sweet spot inside.

-You whine when he asks that of you, knowing that if he pushes too far, where it will end up.

-But he persists, relentless in his command. “Curl. Your. Fingers.” he says sternly, watching bemusedly as you struggle to contain your reaction. 

- “I don’t want to make a mess,” you whine, trying desperately to slow your movements, hoping, begging that he’ll show you some mercy. That he won’t embarrass you like that, that he’ll turn his attention elsewhere and then fuck you with his perfect cock.

- “Perhaps,” he agrees, “But I want you to make a mess. It’s the least I deserve, don’t you think? After having to witness you let someone else put their filthy hands all over you? Besides, listen to you. Your sweet little cunt is already dripping everywhere - I know you want to come.”

-You can feel the tears budding in the corners of your eyes, your movements slowing even more, trying in vain to put off what you know is inevitable.

-Viktor, to his credit, does seem to notice your hesitation. His expression softens by a fraction, and he carefully slides off the couch and onto the floor, kneeling crookedly in front of you.

- “It it’s too much,” he reminds you, tenderly sliding the warm flat of his hands over your trembling things, “You know your colours. Do you want to tap out?”

-He stares up at you without any expectations or judgment, waiting in earnest to see if he’d pushed you too far past your boundaries.

-But still, despite your reservations, you shake your head quickly and keep your mouth shut. Like you’d discussed beforehand, over the past couple days, if you never uttered your safeword, then his torturous ministrations would continue.

-Your reaction makes him grin, nonetheless.

- “Good,” he says sweetly. It’s all a facade, though. As soon as the word leaves his mouth, he presses two of his own fingers into you, alongside your own. The stretch alone garners a soft cry from you, but the relentless pace he keeps is what makes you sob.

-Your entire body is burning hot: with embarrassment, with pleasure. The moans and whimpers that fall past your lips are entirely involuntary. The arm that’s holding you up gives out, and you flop bonelessly down onto the flat of the table.

-All you can do is hold on.

-Tears burning hot tracks down your cheeks, you watch as Viktor lowers himself further, bringing his face towards your drenched pussy.

-You know what he’s about to do.

-But knowing doesn’t prepare you for the actual sensation of his lips closing around your swollen clit. Sucking hard, delivering relentless bliss unto you.

-Your orgasm doesn’t wash over you so much as it does drown you. Engulfing you in your entirety, the sounds of the outside world fade away, and your vision dances with colours. Every muscle pulled taught while Viktor works you through it, grinning in satisfaction when your juices splash over his palm, and dribble down onto the carpet below.

-You, on the other hand, are certain you’ve died.

-Gone is your shame, your worries and hesitation, replaced with the infinite euphoria in which you float mindlessly.

-Barely even able to muster a whine when you feel the blunt head of your boyfriend’s cock sliding through your soaked folds. You don’t even have the strength to bat him away, though the stretch as he pushes into you grounds you a little.

-Enough to open your eyes, and stare up at him, breathless.

-Gone is his somewhat cruel expression from earlier, replaced with the tender and kind smile that you’re used to. The gentleness that you fell in love with, all those years ago. And his hands, stroking slowly up and down your sides, massaging little circles into the fat of your hips.

- “Colour, milý?” he asks, his honeyed eyes never leaving yours as he stoops down to press a kiss in between your breasts.

- “Green,” you hum weakly.

-He smiles against your skin, and then pulls back. Briefly. Sliding out of your slick cunt for only a fraction of a second before he’s thrusting back in. Hard and steady, knowing that you’ll likely find your release again, but wholeheartedly chasing his own.

-You lay there blissfully, your legs wrapped around his narrow hips while you whine and shake and gasp. Like time does not exist, only the feeling of him filling you so well, again and again and again.

-Until his fingertips dig into your sides, and his pace falters slightly.

-His own voice, ragged and broken, cursing, calling out for you.

-Your eyes, hazy and dazed, meeting each other in the darkness.

-Your second orgasm, ripping through your body as he spills himself into you. Making an utter mess of your used, sloppy pussy.

-Leaning down until he can all but collapse on top of you, his hair sticking to his damp forehead as he rests it on your tummy.

-Both of you, catching your breath for a couple minutes, before smiling elated at each other, realizing what you’ve done.

-The night did not go as planned, you think. -But it’s definitely gone better.

[buuniebaby]

HOME TO ME - HAMZAH X LATINA!READER 🎀

hiii! first of all i wanna make a quick note - very sorry for the inconsistency in posting for a few days. ive been struggling with writers block and summer bedrotting is getting to me a lil. 😓😓

there were A LOT of drafts of this fic that i picked up and then didn’t like. a big part of that is that i really wanted to make a fic that hits sort of close to home, and that’s what this one is to me! i was born in nicaragua and moved to the us at a young age, so this fic is based off of my experiences relating to that, even down to little things like my parents and their broken english lol. i still tried to make it pretty ambiguous to other latin-american countries, so I hope it isn’t too specific. it took me a long time to write, but im really happy with the way it came out after a day or two of really thinking about it.

this fic includes: lots of fluff, then it gets nasty. mirror sex, nothing too rough 🤗

wc: 3.4k

Your childhood summers haven’t changed since the last time you stepped foot here, even though it feels like it’s been lifetimes. you’re home, and you’ve brought your boyfriend along with you this time.

the sun shines down on you, a little too hot for your liking. it’s a lot hotter down here than the canadian weather you’re used to. it’s different, but comforting at the same time. what really makes the biggest change is the sight of your boyfriend, rays of sunlight beaming down on him, framing his curls perfectly. it makes you feel at home just as much as being here does.

the air is warm and sticky, thick with remnants of a heavy rain. sweat clings to areas of exposed skin, dampening his shirt collar and hair with a sweat.

you don’t think you’ve loved the latin-american summer as much as you have seeing hamzah bask under it.

showing your boyfriend around your home country feels like the world around you is unreal. it’s like two universes colliding - ones that probably shouldn’t coexist.

one of the things that really makes you feel like you’re out of your own body is walking down the same road that baby-you walked down to get to school. if you could’ve told your middle school self that you bagged a man this bad she would’ve forgiven you for not marrying her celebrity crush.

and the food is what really gets you - the flavor of nostalgia mixing with the taste of your boyfriend’s lips is an otherworldly sensation. although you can’t get him too full yet; that’s a job for your family.

speaking of your family - hamzah is terrified.

he tries looking extra nice at first. he wants to make a good impression, just like you’ve told him to - it’s why he’s surprised you’re bursting out in laughter seeing him walk out in full black tie attire.

“you don’t have to dress like you’re going to a wedding, hamzah-“ you giggle when he speaks over you, trying to defend himself.

“you told me to look nice, and we’re going to a dinner, y’know-“ he rambles, but catches himself. “and you’re wearing a dress!”

you roll your eyes, giving him a dead stare. “this a a sundress, hamzah. it’s not like.. fancy.” he looks at you blankly back. it’s like there’s not a single thought behind his eyes.

after your criticism and a lot of banter, you’ve got him dressed up more.. how you would have envisioned. he’s got those glasses on - the ones he usually edits with. and god, he looks good. he’s paired those with a polo shirt and a nice pair of jeans; he looks nice, presentable, but not over the top.

you’re knocking on the door while he almost shyly stands behind you before you know it. it takes a good few seconds for you to receive any sort of response, but you’re used to it. once someone eventually comes to the door, you’re greeted with the sound of children squealing in the background and music playing off a speaker - the loud environment you’re most used to.

you think you can see hamzah sweating.

your mom greets you with two little cheek kisses, as always, then smothers you into a hug. “muy linda,” she presses another kiss to your forehead, “mi alma.” she eventually finishes her ramblings about how beautiful you are and how much she’s missed you, then pauses as she pulls back. hamzah flinches.

she’s eyeing him down, eyebrows furrowed with a hand on her hip. It’s the death glare - one you know very well. if he wasn’t sweating before he definitely is now, and you’re even close to breaking into one.

hamzah doesn’t even have time to panic before her angry demeanor snaps into laughter. she’s giggling at the way his smile had dropped, grabbing him by the shoulders and pulling him into that same little cheek kiss. he stumbles when she does it, not knowing what to do; an anxious fluster of sorts.

she pulls away looking at you, and her giggles turn into straight-up laughter.

“he look at me so scared.. he like, ‘i already messed up!’” she says, still laughing, now imitating hamzah’s flustered appearance. her English is slightly broken, as you expected, but it’s the way she tries for you is what really counts. she’s putting in the effort. you laugh with her, but not really at what she’s saying - it’s the way she’s already made herself comfortable around your boyfriend.

“y tu eres el novio, verdad?” your father says, pointing at hamzah, managing to creep up behind your mother without you even noticing. “you going to marry her?”

you awkwardly laugh at your father and how weird he has to make things, but that’s just how your family is. hamzah doesn’t mind it, he understands - nonchalantly smiling, looking down at you as he replies with a quick “hope so.”

you giggle back, but your smile is genuine - you know he’s serious about what he just said. “maybe one day.” you continue for him.

you two enter your house and he’s already being crowded by relatives of yours. he’s introducing himself to one of your tías when he feels something tugging on the leg of his pants, startling him. he looks down only to see your baby cousin staring up at him, big beady eyes and an open mouth, almost like he’s some sort of god.

around an hour later, hamzah is about a beer and two plates of food in to the family function. he’s sitting on the floor, a doll in his hand, playing with that same prima from before. you’re not even sure if they’re communicating, if that baby can even speak any language yet, but whatever they’re doing hamzah.. seems to be enjoying himself.

it’s funny, but it’s sweet at the same time, watching your boyfriend like this. it makes you think of your future together. marrying him, taking him into your family - even watching him play with your little prima makes you fall ill with baby fever. he would be an amazing girl dad.

by the end of the night, hamzah is starting to get a little bit plastered, and your mom is already calling him mijo. you’re trying to teach him how to dance to your country’s music (which he surprisingly happens to not be bad at) while also trying to sneak a few drinks yourself. you’re running back to the bathroom when your mom catches you, pulling you aside for a second.

you tilt your head at her, confused. you’re hoping this isn’t what you’ve been nervous about the whole night - you really, really don’t want a “we don’t like this boy” talk.

instead, she smiles, which wipes away most of your worry, but you’re still staring at her reluctantly.

“te vas a casar con este chico.” she mutters, smiling. she might be a little drunk herself from the way she’s talking, but you know there’s a truth to her words. you smile back a small grin, but it means more to you than what appears - your man is locked in. even your mom agrees, he’s the one.

thank the lord.

the party dies down after a while, baby cousin and older relatives drifting off to their bedrooms one by one. you somehow find yourself sitting on your parent’s couch, cuddled up in a blanket next to hamzah. you’re both a little tipsy, what you would say is fine enough to drive, but you already know your mother will argue against you.

“y’wanna get out of here too?” hamzah whispers, voice deep and soft in your ear.

“mhmm.” you say, comfortable in his arms. “wanna stay here for a second though.”

hamzah doesn’t complain, gently rubbing your shoulder underneath the blanket with his forefinger and thumb. it’s domestic, a gentle touch, and it makes you feel warm inside.

“was cute seeing you play with my prima.” you mumble, smiling to yourself at the memory. he laughs when he picks up on what you’re talking about.

“I don’t really think I understood what was going on like, that whole time.” he begins to ramble. “I think her barbies were like, beefing and shit.” he says, smiling down at you when he sees the way you light up with laughter.

“if we ever like, get married, i wanna have a girl.” you say. he’s quick to rebut you.

“that’s not how it works.” he argues back, stupidly.

“well then, like, we just have more.” you say, the mix of alcohol and sleepiness not giving you the energy to seriously discuss this with him. “you’d make a good girl dad, i think.”

he smiles at that comment. he’s seen it around on tiktok and other social media. he thinks it’s cute, and suddenly the idea of marriage and knocking you up doesn’t seem so scary to him. that gentle touch on your shoulders is moving down to your hips before you know it. you’re both aware that you can’t do anything on your family couch, but you know the intention behind his grip.

“i think you’d be a good boy mom.” he says back. “i could see you like, teaching him how to cook and stuff. i think if you had a baby boy he would be like, really respectful, not like brain-rotted.” you laugh at the stupidity of his comments.

“i think if you raised a boy, he would end up going down like, the alt right pipeline, and start watching andrew tate clips on youtube shorts.”

you both laugh at that - it’s obvious that you’re joking now, but you still enjoy the deprecating banter.

“if my kid doesn’t reach alpha male status, im sending his ass to the frontlines.”

you continue your painfully stupid chatter, not paying attention to how dark it’s getting.

your mother eventually creeps up to you, and you take it as a sign that you should probably start making your way out.

after saying your final goodbyes to your family members who are still standing awake, you’re making your way out the door. after a few cheek kisses and repeatedly denying the “no cab? you sure?” from your mom, you two are on the way back to your hotel.

hamzah’s hand is on your thigh as he drives. it’s another domestic touch that drives you crazy. the little things are really getting to you tonight.

“you’re good with kids.” you mumble, letting your thoughts out with no warning.

“yeah?” is all hamzah says, keeping his eyes on the road and his hand on your thigh.

“yeah.” you repeat back in a breathier tone.

“im not getting you pregnant right now, if that’s what you’re asking.” he mutters, still focused on the road. “I’ll cum inside you, but I can’t handle a baby yet-”

“hamzah!” you nearly yell. “i don’t mean- i mean yeah, that’s a part of it, but like- i guess you’re just like-“ you stutter, trying to gather your flustered self. “it’s like, a domestic thing I guess. makes me wanna settle down with you one day.”

despite how nonchalant he’s acting, he gets exactly what you’re saying.

“yeah. y’know, that little sundress you’re wearing?” hamzah starts, eyes tearing off the road for a second. “that’s like, wife shit.”

you giggle at the way he says it, but you’re flattered at the intention.

“kinda surprised you liked it that much. feel like guys think sundresses are just like, skin-tight skims dresses.”

“you look fucking hot in it, are you serious? like shit, maybe i will just get you pregnant if you’re wearing that.” hamzah pauses for a moment, looking over at you while your eyes widen. “i’m joking. by the way.” you let out a soft “aww,” making a soft smile creep onto his face.

“you don’t have to tonight. i’m joking.” you smile up at him. “but i do miss the feeling of you inside me.” you can tell that you’re at least getting to him a little bit; he’s starting to get riled up.

“duh,” he says, jokingly, but his tone changes with his next words. “ill cum all over that fuckin’ dress if you really want me to.”

there’s the hamzah you were looking for.

he’s already pulling the car you two rented into the parking lot of your hotel, and you can’t even speak before the silence is interrupted with his own thoughts.

“gonna be all over you the second we get to our fucking room.” he mutters, opening his car door. as both of you get out, you can see the hard-on already somewhat formed through his pants.

you love getting him worked up like this.

checking into the room is almost painful. he stands behind you as you speak in spanish to the hotel staff, cock pressed up right against your ass. you’re stuttering as she asks you for your reservation, knowing you’re about to get fucking destroyed.

he wasn’t lying about being all over you. the minute that keycard clicks and the door is open, you’re being shoved onto the bed, hamzah crawling on top of you.

it’s a pretty hotel room - you’re taking it all in as hamzah is on top of you. huge bathroom, silky sheets, relatively good size, yet there’s one thing that sticks out to you. there’s a long mirror, placed at the side of the bed.

it’s the perfect place to get fucked in front of.

you don’t even think hamzah has taken a glance at the architecture around him from the way he’s locked in on your body. you feel his hands gravitate against different areas of your body, resting on your hips, grabbing the soft flesh through your dress. he places a soft, warm kiss to your lips, but continues with a harsher, more sloppy one. it only continues on your neck, biting and kissing down to your collarbone.

he keeps his lips in a certain place for a second, and you already know you’re going to be covering up dark spots on your neck tomorrow.

“pretty,” is all he mumbles when he pulls off, moving down to add yet another bite to your neck.

he pulls the top of your sundress down a little bit, straps going over your shoulders. it’s just enough to free your bra, which he pulls off even quicker.

his mouth is all over your tits before you know it - as expected. he’s sucking at them, licking at the nipple while the other hand fondles the soft flesh around. you can feel him getting harder against your thigh, which you didn’t even think was possible at this point.

you can tell he’s getting frustrated with how fucking tight his pants are getting, cock getting harder by the second. he quickly unbuttons his jeans, pulling them down to his ankles - he’s a little too horny to take the effort to fully pull them down. when he pulls off his boxers he lets out a sigh, letting his cock free.

you readjust to do the same, pulling at the straps of your dress, but hamzah stops you, a large hand covering yours.

“want you to keep it on.”

yes sir.

you pull the straps back up to where they should regularly be, wearing your sundress like normal, just braless. hamzah takes a minute to catch his breath, but it’s hard when you’re under him looking like that. he takes in his surroundings a little bit more as he calms down, finally noticing the mirror to his side. you can tell by the look on his face that he’s got the same idea as you.

his focus lands back on you when he turns back to look you in the eyes, gently stroking himself. his hips roll softly into his hand, pumping himself loosely in his fist. he takes his other hand and pulls your dress up just enough to see your underwear.

he’s too lazy to get them off your body, so he just pushes them to the side, a finger sliding between the soft lips to your entrance. it emits a gasp from you, even though you were expecting it.

“you look so fucking good from here.” he says, breathy. your brows furrow for a second, confused as to what he means by ‘from here,’ but then you realize where his eyes are pointed -

- the mirror.

you turn your head to look at it too, and god, he isn’t wrong. the way his hands strain, groping at your thighs while he grazes against your cunt. it’s hotter than you had expected, the idea of seeing yourself get destroyed from multiple angles.

he presses a finger into you, and you flinch at the feeling. it’s not long before he’s sliding another one in with it, pulling at your hips with his strong arms to bring you down to his knuckles. you’re looking at yourself in the mirror as he does it, watching as he pushes you around like a toy.

he pulls his fingers out after curling them a few times inside of you, and you protest by trying to buck up your hips up again. he pushes on your womb with big hands, forcing you down.

“s’okay baby.” he affirms you in a soft voice. “wanna fuck you now.”

he grabs you by the waist, strong enough to pick you up with just his bare hands and flip you over. he presses your bodies close together once you’re on your hands and knees, your back against his chest. he nestles his head right above your neck, the perfect spot to whisper into your ear.

“look in the mirror,” he starts, and you immediately do what he says. “watch how fucking good you look while I touch you.”

your back arches as an instinct at his words, feeling his palms glide against your hips. your vision feels hazy, but you’re still paying attention to the way he clings onto soft skin.

you let out a whine, shutting your eyes and facing down when he touches your inner thighs, but it doesn’t last long. before you can finish his hand rushes to your jaw, grabbing your face, pointing your head back to the mirror.

“told you to look at yourself, baby.”

it’s hot, the way he’s in control of you, even if it doesn’t take much to get you to submit. he kisses at your shoulder blade softly, watching your desperate expression fade into excitement. he strokes himself one last time before the tip meets your pussy.

your breath hitches when you feel him slide into you, strokes slow. it fits in you nicely, the back of your thighs pressing against his when he’s all the way in. a finger and thumb caress the skin between your ass and hips while he bottoms out.

“c’mon baby,” he says, slowly starting to drag his hips in and out of you. “move those hips.”

you can’t argue with him, doing what he says on command. you roll your hips back the same way you roll your eyes, creating a rhythm with his thrusts. it earns a moan from him.

he grips your hips while his speed up, moving in and out of you with an unforgiving pace. it’s enough to send you reeling, squealing as you struggle to keep your focus on the mirror. you can barely keep your composure, the urge to shove your head in your pillow and just let him use you stronger than ever.

“wasn’t- fuck- lying when I told you I wanna come all over that dress.” he says, struggling to get his words out. it only makes you clench around him, his words driving you to your own finish.

you’re screaming a “hamzah! can’t fucking take it-“ while he’s plowing into you, building up a well-awaited orgasm. he waits until he feels that clench-and-pulse sensation around his cock, signaling that you’ve came before he pulls out.

he doesn’t even need to touch himself to cum after seeing you like this - he lets himself go, ropes of his semen covering the floral patterns of your dress.

he basks in the sight of you for a moment, catching his breath after his orgasm. it’s a lot for him, fucking you after being pent up the whole day. overstimulating, almost. you’re just that attractive to him, poor boy can’t control himself.

he lays on top of your chest, grounding himself. the feeling of being against you bare skin is comforting to him, a sense of home that you two both find in each other. you run your hands through the curls of his hair.

that’s what he is to you - home. just like how it feels to be here.

[kuro4thegays]

- Dr. Ratio nsfw alphabet -

[Veritas Ratio x gn!reader] [Originally written with male reader in mind, but there is no mention of genitalia so I think it can work for any gender. I tried to provide both something for top and bottom reader so everyone can get something out of this. The reader is assumed to be in a long term relationship with Veritas]

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

Veritas can be really romantic. Initially, he doesn’t want either of you to pull away at all, just to nuzzle each other while your bodies stay intertwined in such an intimate fashion. Though if you really need it he’ll get up immediately to get you some water or snacks or really anything you need. Depending on the time of day you also might be expecting a bath, massages too.

B = Body part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Not a specific body part, but likes how proportional and symmetrical his body is as a whole. This guy is literally named Dr Ratio, leave me alone. On you though, I think he likes your face. Basic answer, but I really can't see it any other way. Definitely likes tracing the contours of your face when bored, studying it like an ancient sculpture. Oh, and I guess it's pretty hot how your face twists in pleasure while you're doing it.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically)

If he's topping he likes to cum inside, otherwise cumming all over you is the second best. I feel like he wouldn't be a fan of cumming all over himself so if bottoming he'll like to do it either on the bed or if possible somewhere on you. My man also probably likes fruits, that's what gives his cum a sweet-ish taste, definitely not the sugary sweet kind though, the earthy natural sweet.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Definitely wants to do it in a very natural space, like a lake or something. That primal feeling, miles away from the rationality he exudes usually, really gets him going, but he's too afraid of someone walking in and ruining the moment to actually do it.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

Virgin. Most of his life he probably had that kind of mindset that it's probably not worth it getting involved with someone else when he has everything he needs here. Still thinks that way, but now has you to keep his balls empty.

F = Favorite Position (This goes without saying.)

Loves lifting you off the ground, gotta show those muscles off. You just wrap around him so snugly and your faces are so close to each other it takes no effort just to start making out while pounding into you. Doesn't mind being lifted up himself either, especially if you're squeezing his ass while doing so, has and will attack your face with kisses. Other than that he likes anything where you two are face to face just in general.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

Very serious. Because of how little experience he has and how little people he has let see him this way he probably takes it as an extremely important bonding time so don't expect any jokes or laughs from him. Though he won't be mad if you're into the more casual kind, hell, he’ll let you try getting a laugh out of him.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

Extremely well groomed. He's a neat freak, man loves baths and goes nuts when he sees a single dirty spot on his book, he's well capable of keeping himself clean. No hair out of place and all, if he even has any on his lower body.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

Said it already, but he takes sex very seriously. Slow and sensual is his thing. Makes it a whole ritual, lighting candles, maybe using some rose petals that he likes putting into his baths, massaging your back, everything to make you feel absolutely refreshed afterwards and ultimately make you feel closer to each other at the end.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

Doesn't do it that often, but when he does it's most likely during the morning shower. Though, unfortunately, if he has the displeasure of having another bath without his lover he might have to rub one out alone in there too.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Praise and degradation are a must with this man. Just state your preference, or do both if you’re into it, and he’ll already be running his mouth even before you start. Body worship is also a big thing for him. With his marble statues you can assume that he at least must love his own body and something tells me that he’ll be equally if not more obsessed with his lover's one.

L = Location (Favorite places to do the do)

Not into risky stuff, he has a reputation to keep. Maybe you can suck him off under his work desk with all the doors locked, but that's where it ends. Maybe bathhouses, but only if you have a reserved room or smth. Though when it comes to your private adobe nothing is off the table. The bed, bathtub, over the counter, against the wall, he isn't too picky.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Not hard to get him in the mood. Loves how open you are with him and if you ask him nicely he’ll already feel motivated. Just seeing you so needy and wanting him makes him feel special, like he is the only one who you would run up to with something so intimate. Expect him to tease you about it though.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Anything that has to do with risking his reputation, no public sex or exhibitionism. Threesomes are also a no for him, not with someone he knows and definitely not with a stranger. He has made it clear that you're the only one who he wants to experience this kind of intimacy with.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He was definitely a little weirded out at the start. Don't get me work, he knew how it's done and what it meant, he isn't that innocent, but the thought of actually doing just felt gross to him. Of course, that's where you came(in more ways than one) in. Unfortunately for you, he is a fast learner. Now oral is his favorite way to open up a long night session with you. It doesn't take much preparation, so expect him to wake you up using his mouth.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

My guy likes to take his time. He sees sex like he sees his baths, a way to cleanse the body of all its filth, so sometimes it really does feel like you're making love instead of having sex. He just finds himself dissatisfied with the fast and rough methods that just dry him out.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

It might seem surprising after I talked so much about him taking his time, but I don't think he actually minds quickies that much. Though he doesn't like making a routine out of them, sure a quickie is good once in a while to relieve some stress, but he doesn't want it to spoil sex for him entirely. He likes them most during the morning showers.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

While he doesn't want to take any risks with his reputation, he certainly doesn't mind doing risky stuff behind closed doors. How are you supposed to see the results without any experimentation?

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

Oh, he can go for plenty. My man is beefy and all that muscle isn't just for show. The thing is, one round for him already takes a while so expect to be spent and thoroughly satisfied. Not that he doesn't mind going again, he's just wondering if you can keep up.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

He doesn't have a lot of toys but he definitely doesn't mind using some on you or you using some on him. Keep in mind though, if you allow him he can get pretty ruthless with them.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Definitely a huge tease, refuse to believe otherwise. Going to go further into it in a moment, but my guy is talkative. Nothing you do will go unnoticed and everything you do will be commented on. Also teasing with his actions. That one extra button left unbuttoned was specifically left there to cause a reaction from you. Will deny you orgasm if you're into that. He loves the power all the things listed above give him and the feeling of being desired really gets him going. You could inflate his ego even more or even try to shut that pretty mouth yourself.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

I don't know if this is a hot take but I think that he might get more vocal once he is with someone he trusts. Definitely won't hide his voice from you when he sees you getting more aroused, might as well use it to tease you. Oh, and he's definitely a talkative one. Expect lots of comments between those sweet groans and moans of his.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

Massages are his favorite form of foreplay. Be it during baths with all his fancy soaps and oils or in bed after an exhausting day, it's a very intimate, but not necessarily sexual, way to relax the body and he needs your body to be relaxed if he wants to proceed with more intense stuff. Doesn't mind receiving a massage either, though he is mostly the one giving them he can't deny himself the pleasure of your hands worshiping his muscles.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

He is a big man, what do you expect? No, but for real, it matches his size. Every part of him is proportional. Always cleanly shaven and well groomed and only has a few subtly visible veins just below the head. Cut and colored with a pinkish blush on the very tip.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Not that high. He keeps himself intellectually occupied most of the time. Though he can get turned on pretty quickly when his partner initiates.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

I imagine most of your steamy encounters happen at the end of the day so he already feels pretty drained. That orgasm is probably the last push for him before going to bed, assuming that all of your needs are taken care of first.

[Just something quick to deliver while I'm working on something bigger to keep you all well fed]

[sosa2imagines]

Yours, ours, mine.

Warnings- Jealousy, manipulation, gaslighting, somnophilia, drunk makeout, degrading women (not reader), murder, drugging, non/dubcon, forcing. If you find any more warnings, please let me know. (7.7K words) --------------------------------------- Steve watches the shape of your hips, as you reach for the ingredients on the top shelf. The way your back bends to reach them. His eyes move, from the length of your legs and the curve of your butt, to the way your chest jiggles. He watches the way you walk, with every sway of your hips. He can’t help the feeling of blood, rushing to a very specific part of his body, as he watches you.

When Steve went in past, to return the stones, he thought about staying behind. He tried to like the past, but something was missing.

The past was just too bland, boring and dull for his taste.

As for Peggy? She is very... decent and hardworking, but no fun.

So, Steve came back.

Bucky, Sam and Bruce, who were impatiently waiting for him to return, were relieved to see him back.

“I thought you won’t come back? What changed your mind?” Bucky asked, “Past is boring without you, it’s not for me.” Steve replied.

Though, he did give his shield to Sam. Announcing his retirement, with a promise of, always being there for them and the world. Steve went on a lone journey across the world.

The modern world was meant for him. He was no longer, the skinny Steve or Captain America, with the responsibility of the world, on his shoulders. He was a free bird now. He loves the life, he was living now.

Just traveling, hooking with random girls, who would willingly bend for him, just the way he wants.

After a year of traveling, he came back home. But his apartment was no longer his, and he didn’t want to live in the compound, so he decided to go to Bucky’s place.

When he knocked on the door, he was expecting a surprised Bucky, but instead he sees you. Steve was stunned and speechless when he saw you standing in the doorway of Bucky’s house. You were beyond gorgeous and immediately captivated his mind, Steve immediately felt himself drawn to you. He saw you and now he wanted you.

You smiled as you saw him return home, and you greet him, your smile was not fake but genuine. “Steve...” You knew who he was, but not the dark truths within him. He has gone on many adventures and now he was back home; however, the memories of those adventures and of his past life had faded, as he saw you standing in the doorway.

His breath hitched as he heard your voice, your soft and sultry voice captured his attention. Maybe you know him as Captain America. But it does not matter, he would love to hear his name, again and again from your sweet lips.

He stood there, staring intently at you for a moment, before snapping himself out of it. Just as Steve was about to ask you, who you were, he heard another voice, Bucky's voice. “Doll, who is it?” Bucky's voice pulled him out of his dazed state of mind.

 Bucky came next to you, kissing your temple, wrapping his arm around your waist, before looking directly at Steve. Steve was jealous seeing you and Bucky so close and affectionate. He tried not to show the feelings of jealousy he had within, he tried his best to act normal and not show off any of the emotions he was currently going through.

“Steve, what a surprise”, Bucky let’s go of you, to give Steve a brotherly hug. “Yeah... yeah it's good to see you again Buck.” Steve tried to compose himself, he knew he had to play it cool and not let himself get overwhelmed with jealousy. Bucky was happy to see him and that was all that mattered... for now.

Bucky, chuckles and introduces you to Steve, “Steve, this is uh Y/n...my wife” Steve was shocked, you were Bucky's wife. “Yours”, Steve choked. He was surprised by it; he hadn't expected Bucky to be in a relationship... much less with someone as beautiful as you.

“A pleasure to meet you.” Steve said, forcing a smile. He was trying his best to act normal and friendly, but he was internally struggling with the feelings, he had now, knowing you were married to Bucky. “Nice to meet you too.”

Bucky puts his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him as he smiled at Steve. His smile, unlike Steve's, was genuine, he was happy to see Steve back again.

As you all settle into the house, Bucky begins to tell Steve, how he met you in his absence, how they fell in love and decided to get married. Steve tried his best to focus on the story, he needed to act like he wasn't losing his mind inside. He needed to act like he cared, but all he could really focus on, was you beside him.

Steve was having trouble concentrating. He kept glancing at you out of the corner of his eye, he was just so damn attracted to you.

As time went by, it was time for Steve to leave. Bucky and you knew, he didn't have any apartment, “Where are you going to stay though? You don't have your apartment anymore...” Bucky asked in concern.

“Guess... I'll head back to the compound.” Steve made a sad face, hoping you both will buy it. Steve's plan was to crash in with Bucky, however he didn't know you will be here, let alone be married to Bucky. So, he had to act a little.

“Don't be stupid, you are staying with us. We have a spare bedroom. Come on it will be just like old times. Please stay with us.”

“No, no it's fine... I can find somewhere else to stay. I don't want to impose on you guys.” He said, trying to hide the fact that he was desperate to stay with you both.

Bucky tried to convince Steve to stay with them, saying that he would be happy if Steve stayed with them, and that he could go on missions without worrying, because Steve could look after you. Steve can protect you. Steve's eyes widened a bit at hearing this, but he quickly composed himself, pretending like nothing was wrong.

Of course, he'll look after you, take care of you, protect you and...

“Please, stay with us. It would be wonderful to have you around and I know it'll make my wife happy too, won't it, doll?”

“Yes, yes it will.” You chime in, “I would love to have Steve around to keep me company, while you're off on missions.” Bucky chuckles and looks at Steve, hoping that he agrees to stay.

That was all Steve needed, he hugged you and made it look like it was just a friendly gesture.

He watches the way Bucky is with you. He sees the way he looks at you, the way he touches you, the way he kisses you. He longs for that. He fantasizes about having what the two of you have. He can’t help but let his mind wander and wish that he had, what the two of you have. It’s almost like he’s living vicariously through your relationship. He even starts wondering what it would be like to be with you instead.

He begins to think about, the possibility of being with you. He even begins to imagine the two of you together, having breakfast every morning, the intimate moments you would share, and the life you would have together. It’s almost as if he can feel the sensations of touch and emotion through his imagination, almost like his fantasies are becoming real.

Every time Bucky called you ‘doll’, Steve would cringe. You are not ‘doll’, you are ‘angel’, his angel… made with perfection.

He’s hooked up random girls, but it’s not the same. He can’t stop thinking about you. No one else can fill him the way, he is filled by just the thought of you. Every time he’s with another girl, he’s pretending, that they’re you. He’s closes his eyes and imagines that she’s you. It’s your name he’s moaning instead of hers.

Every time he comes, he moans your name.

No matter, how hard he pounds the girl from behind, it was your name falling from his mouth. Steve had a condition for the hook ups, don’t make any noise, don’t disturb him and don’t ask any questions.

You walk around the house freely, not knowing about Steve’s obsession. You’re completely unaware of the way he watches every move you make, the way he fantasizes about you. You’re completely unaware of the way his mind wanders when he sees you, of the way he can’t stop thinking about you. You’re completely unaware of the way he craves you.

No matter where you stood, he found some reason to go there and to just be in close proximity to you. To watch you move, to watch you laugh, to watch you breathe even. He loved to watch you do literally anything.

Steve was in awe of you, over the fact, that you were not aware of his love and lust for you. He was there beside you, doing everything he could, to act normal, when in reality, he wanted to grab you by your waist and pull you close to him.

Soon he starts collecting, your bra and panties, as souvenirs. He starts stealing pieces of your lingerie and taking them back to his room, as a way to feel closer to you. He can’t help but stare at the stolen items, when he’s alone, imagining how sexy they look, on your body. He can’t help but sniff and touch the pieces, feeling how soft and silky they are, imagining how they felt, to touch your body as you wore them.

As his normal routine, he was quietly going through your wardrobe, admiring your lingerie, when he heard the bathroom door open. He quickly hid behind the curtains, realizing that it must be you, coming out of the bathroom. Steve was turned on, seeing you naked.

He can’t help, but stare at your naked body, as you come out of the bathroom. The desire he’s been feeling for you, suddenly amplifies as he stares at your naked body. He imagines touching you, kissing your body, tasting your skin. He imagines what it would feel like, to explore every inch of your body, with his hands. He’s completely entranced by your beauty and can’t take his eyes off of you. He’s so turned on, by every inch of you, that he can barely breathe.

The way your wet hair dripped, on your breast, he wanted to suck them. Your body was a work of art to him and he couldn't help but feel the urge, to just grab you and take you then and there.

He had a need to be taken care of. He shamelessly opens the button of his jeans and unzipped his fly, pulling out his hard cock. Steve spit into his hand as he kept his eyes trained on you. His fingers wrapped around his hardness and he stroked roughly. He was so lost in the naked sight of you, he couldn’t help himself. He saw Bucky coming in, grabbing you from behind, one hand groping your breast, while the other playing with your clit.

You were whimpering and trembling, while he slipped his fingers inside you. The way your hips moved, the way you gasped, and the way your face flushed, when you came. Steve made a mess of himself, stuffing your panties in his mouth, to muffle any sound from him.

Few days later, the dimly lit room throbbed, with the monotonous rhythm of bodies. Steve, lost in the familiar cycle of seeking oblivion, barely registered, the woman beneath him. He was miles away, the image of you consuming his thoughts. As the climax approached, his voice rough with exertion, a single word escaped his lips, shattering the empty charade.

“Y/n” he groaned, the name echoing in the confines of the room.

The woman beneath him froze. Her movements ceased, replaced by a sudden stillness. Then, she ripped away from him, her eyes blazing with fury. She broke the rule, Steve had set, as she questions him. “What the hell was that?” she spat, her voice laced with ice. “Does not matter to you! Keep your filthy mouth shut and open it, for the only good use it has.”

The girl's grip tightened on Steve's hair, her voice a low growl. “Y/n? You mean wife of Bucky Barnes?” The girl recognized your name, as she had heard it in the news. Much to Bucky’s dismay, when you both got married, the media had leaked your name. Steve's eyes snapped open, his face flushing crimson. “Let go of me!” he snarled, shoving her back.

She stumbled, but recovered quickly, a cruel smile twisting her lips. “Oh, I think I will. Unless you want your little secret to get out, former Captain America.”

Steve stood, his jaw clenched. “Are you threatening me?”

“Oh, it's a blackmail, alright,” she sneered, “a mistake that could cost you, your reputation, maybe even land you in jail. Unless, you compensate me for my silence.”

Steve's eyes narrowed. “You're a disgusting slut.”

“Money talks, sweetheart. And right now, you're talking broke. How pathetic, falling for a married woman.” She laughs and that was enough to tick his jaw.

Steve grabbed her throat, lifting her up in the air. The girl struggled, kicking her feet, desperately trying to free herself. Steve’s hold was strong, within seconds, he snapped her neck. He threw her body on the floor, glaring hard, fuming with anger. He was pacing back and forth.

As he drops her dead body, in the ocean, Steve’s twisted mind makes him feel proud, that he can kill anyone for you, do anything for you.

Driven by this newfound obsession, Steve devised a plan. He surreptitiously installed a hidden camera, in your bedroom and bathroom, the burning desire to see you.

Later that night, the grainy footage flickered to life on his screen. His breath hitched as you and Bucky shed your clothes, the sight of your bare skin a revelation. He watched, heart hammering against his ribs, as you moved together, a silent symphony of passion.

He found himself fixated on your curves, the way the light played across your skin, a stark contrast to the shadows that danced on Bucky's form. The image of watching you and Bucky through the hidden camera, was a secret pleasure he revelled in.

He'd always admired your beauty, the way your curves moved, the way your skin seemed to glow, under the soft lamplight. But witnessing your intimacy with Bucky, had twisted that admiration into something monstrous. The sight of Bucky's hand trailing down your bare back, the way your moans filled the room, fuelled a fire within him.

He replayed the scene in his mind, the stolen glimpses of your naked form, a forbidden fruit he couldn't tear himself away from. He felt a thrill at the possessiveness, that surged through him, a twisted sense of ownership over something that wasn't his. As he came, making a mess on the bed. He had to have you.

When Bucky is out for work, Steve takes the opportunity to get touchy with you. He starts with friendly touches, but the touching soon becomes bolder. You didn't mind the friendly touches, but when he got bolder, you politely tried to maintain distance.

He kept pushing, to see how far he could go, and he didn't like, that you were keeping your distance, from him. He wanted more than friendly touches, and he kept trying to get you to let him get closer, to let him touch you in ways, that Bucky wouldn't like. He didn't care that you were trying to maintain distance; he just wanted more.

He comes up with a solution. You were making tea, when Steve came in. “Let me serve you the tea, it'll give me a chance to spend time with you,” says Steve. “Okay.” You smile.

He puts sleeping pills in your cup, making sure to mix it with the sugar in the tea. He waits for the pills to kick in.

Once you fall asleep, Steve picks you up and carries you to bed. He gently undresses you, taking his time with the process. He gently removes your clothes, letting his hands glide, over your body as he does so.

His hands explore your body, like he's worshipping you. His hands roam over your curves, tracing every inch of your skin. He can't help but worship you, can't help but touch you, can't help but feel the heat of your body against his own. He takes his time with every touch, with every exploration. He wants to savor this moment, to indulge in the feeling of your body, in ways he's only been able to fantasize about before.

He kisses you softly, tasting your lips, lightly nibbling your neck. Gently kneading your boobs, before dragging his fingers further down. He takes your breast in his mouth, sucking on it like his life depends on it. While his fingers, trace between your thighs, pushing your legs apart. “Gonna make you feel so good...” Steve whispers, as if you can hear him. Steve’s fingers graze your clit, drawing circles around your sensitive nub, with your slick. He teases your entrance.

One by one, his fingers are in you, gently stroking you, hitting that spot inside you, that has your breathing get heavier. Steve swirled his fingers in your slick, before he pulled away from your breast, bringing his fingers to his mouth, to taste you. Steve gently slipped his fingers back inside you. He moved slowly, circling the tip before shoving his fingers back in, watching your face. 

While he played with your pussy with one hand, Steve reached into his sweatpants and gripped his cock. He stroked himself slowly, wanting to draw out, as long as he could. Steve pushed gently against your tight little hole. You were wet enough, for his fingers to slide inside easily. He took it slow, as he continued to push inside until his fingers were buried deep inside. If you felt that good around his fingers, Steve couldn’t even imagine, how perfect you’d feel on his cock. His fist gripped the base of his shaft. Steve curled his fingers inside you and pumped gently in and out of your pussy. His thumb stroked over your little button. He fucked your pussy with his fingers, as he stroked his cock.

Your tight walls, were clenching around his fingers. Steve rubbed your button harder, drawing out your release, while your wetness coated his fingers and hand. 

Steve stuck his wet fingers in his mouth, and groaned when he tasted your sweet, release. While his other hand pumped, his cock faster. He chased his release, until he found it, his face buried in the crook of your neck. Steve came with a muffled moan, his cum spurting up all over your thigh. He did clean you, before dressing you up again and leaving you alone in the room.

When you got up, you felt weird and little tired, but you waved it off. The following days, you felt the same way, whenever you woke up from your nap. But you just blamed it on the chores, having no other reason.

A few nights later you, Bucky, and Steve went to the local bar. The night was going well, with all three of you enjoying yourselves. Steve purposely gets you, stronger alcohol, without your or Bucky's knowledge, wanting to make sure, that you get more intoxicated, than just being tipsy.

Bucky sits on a bar stool, occupying himself with his phone, as you and Steve dance together. You lean against Steve, thinking that he's Bucky. Steve instantly takes advantage of this, dancing sensually with you, touching you. He doesn't want to miss this opportunity, not when he's so close to you. He wants to feel your body pressed against his, to feel your breath against his neck, to hear how your breathing changes as you become more and more intoxicated. He wants you, and he wants you now.

It doesn't take long for you to become more intoxicated, and as you look up, Steve's eyes are locked on you. He's staring at you, watching your eyes begin to droop, and your movements become heavier. He's enjoying himself, watching you get more and more drunk, letting the alcohol do its magic. He's excited at the thought of what he might get to do once you're so intoxicated that you won't be able to push him away.

In a lucky coincidence, Bucky has to go to the compound for some work, telling Steve to take care of you. This is the perfect opportunity for Steve to take advantage of you, to make his move, to make you his. He tells Bucky that he'll take good care of you, that he'll get you back home safely. Bucky, trusting Steve, thinks nothing of this and leaves, leaving the two of you alone together.

With Bucky out of the way and out of the picture, Steve takes it as his chance, to act on his desires for you. His hands start wandering over your intoxicated body slowly, kneading your ass, exploring every inch of you. He can't help but feel a rush of excitement, as he touches you, as he feels the heat of your body against his own.

He cups between your legs, his free hand holding you in place, as his lips find your neck. He wants more than just touches, he wants to feel your breath against his neck, wants to hear you moan. He wants you, and he knows that he has the opportunity to make that happen.

Steve eagerly takes you home, taking you into his bedroom. He's been waiting for this moment for so long, wanting you in his bed, needing you to be with him. He's been waiting to have your body with him, to feel the heat of you against him. He wants this moment to last as long as possible, wanting to savor every second of it. He wants to spend the whole night with you, wants to explore your body, in ways that he's only ever been able to fantasize about.

Steve gently pressed his lips against yours in such an affectionate way, his teeth gently tugged on your lower lip, as he pushed his tongue past your lips, deepening the kiss. He undresses you slowly, wanting to take his time with the process. He doesn't want to rush this; he wants to relish in every moment.

He kisses your neck, nibbles it gently, as his hands roam over your body, touching every inch of you. You moan, but instead of moaning his name, you let out a soft moan of Bucky's name. This immediately fills him with anger, and he pulls back, not wanting you to ruin this moment by you calling out someone else's name.

Steve is determined to make you moan his name. He whispers into your ear, his breath hot and heavy against your skin as he whispers, “Say 'Steve',” he doesn't want to hear Bucky's name, he doesn't want anything, but the thrill of hearing your voice call his name, as he makes you moan with pleasure. He wants your attention completely, and he wants you to want him. He tells you again, but this time he doesn't whisper it, he makes it an order. “Say it. Say my name. Say 'Steve'.”

“Steve…” Your intoxicated brain starts to obey his command, and without even realizing it, you moan his name in your drunken haze. His lips still against your neck, he hears you moan his name and immediately his grip on you tightens, and he breathes a heavy sigh of relief and he can finally feel the satisfaction of you moaning his name instead of Bucky's.

He keeps kissing you, his hands roaming over your body, touching every inch of you. He can't get enough of your body, your touch. He leaned down, capturing one of your nipples between his lips and starting to suck on it, your voice sobbing his name. It's everything he's ever imagined and more, and every moment feels like paradise.

He moves slightly, tilting your hips to give him a better angle, in your drunken haze, you automatically wrap your legs around his waist. He wants to get the most out of this moment and your body, wanting you to feel every touch, every angle, everything he makes you do, to get you where he wants you. He knows you're intoxicated, and he knows he can get away with anything right now, and he intends to take advantage of that.

Due to his enhanced hearing, his ears perk up, and he can immediately recognize that it's Bucky's bike. He instantly stops what he's about to do and listens for any signs of Bucky's approach. He hears the bike approaching and getting closer, and he realizes that he's out of time. There's no way that he's going to be able to finish, what he had planned and get you back to your room before Bucky arrives. He's frustrated, and he lets out a small curse under his breath, having to stop due to Bucky's surprise arrival.

He puts you to bed, making sure you're comfortably covered with blankets and tucked in. He closes the bedroom door firmly behind him as he exits, only to find Bucky standing there in the hallway. He acts innocent, “Just checking on her.”

Bucky smiles, thinking that Steve is just being a considerate friend. He has no idea, that Steve was about to take things much farther, than just checking in on you.

Steve is filled with anger and desire. He's angry that Bucky interrupted, what he was about to do with you, but he's even more angry that he had to stop. After having you so close to him, his touch, his lips on your lips, neck and all over your body, he's filled with a need for more. His anger and desire both combine and amplify each other, driving him mad. He wants to be buried balls deep in you.

As Bucky was about to head in the bedroom, Steve stops him, “Hey can we talk?” “Sure what is it?” Bucky asks, motioning him to join him on the couch.

“What would you have done if I wasn't there to look after her in the bar, how would you have managed?” Steve asks, trying to guilt and pressure Bucky into trusting him, trying to drive a wedge between him and you. “I'm sure she would've been fine, she knows how to handle herself…” Bucky responds.

“Are you sure? She looked a bit tipsy, she probably would've ended up in some situations, that she wouldn't have been able to handle.” Steve retorts, testing the waters, to assess Bucky's reaction. “Ye...yes I’m sure…” Bucky replies, but the doubt in his voice, was not gone unnoticed by Steve.

Steve leaves for his room, walking away, with a smug smile on his face, “Whatever you say, Buck.” 

As Bucky lies awake next to you, unable to stop thinking about, what Steve said. He starts to doubt his previous conviction, that you would've been fine. He starts to think about what would've happened, had Steve not been there to watch over you. He imagines you getting into various uncomfortable and dangerous situations, with Steve's comments filling him with guilt.

He realizes that he might've underestimated your vulnerability. The thought of something happen to you, or you getting in trouble is worrying him. He regrets not being there to look after you, to keep you safe.

Over the next few days, Steve continues to undermine Bucky's confidence, using this new found uncertainty, to further instil fear and doubts in his mind.

“What if she gets bored of being alone for months, when you're off on missions?” he says, “What if she starts looking for company elsewhere?” It's a loaded question, one that strikes at Bucky's biggest insecurity, regarding his relationship with you. He's suddenly full of worries about you being alone, without him, for long periods of time.

He presses harder on Bucky's insecurities, driving his point home and instilling even more fear and doubt in his mind.

“What if she starts feeling neglected and unfulfilled?” Steve says. “What if she starts looking for someone to fulfil her needs while you're away?” These are the perfect statements, to erode Bucky's trust in you, make him wonder if you're truly content in your relationship with him.

“What if she finds someone else?” he continues. “What if she finds someone who can give her the satisfaction and fulfilment that she's missing because you're not there?” The thought alone would drive any committed partner frantic, and Bucky is no different; the thought of you being with someone else, enjoying their company and getting attention from someone, other than him, would kill him inside.

“She's so innocent,” he says, playing on Bucky's guilt. “You're constantly gone and she's all alone, waiting by her phone for your messages or calls, constantly anxious, about when you'll be back.” He's preying on Bucky's guilt of not always being there for you, of always leaving for long periods of time, leaving you alone to figure things out for yourself. He's using this to make him feel insecure and inadequate, to make him feel like he's failing as a husband to you.

Bucky tells him to stop, pleading with him to let the matter go.

“Stop,” he says firmly, “you're only making it worse. I could be doing so much more to make her happy, could be giving her what she needs, instead of leaving her alone and vulnerable for months on end.” The doubt and insecurities, that Steve has instilled in him, all comes out at once, his feelings of inadequacy and his fear of not being able to adequately take care of you.

Bucky’s pleading only spurs Steve even further. He doubles down on his efforts to get under Bucky’s skin.

“Stop what?” he asks. “Just stop telling the truths?” he continues, taking it a step further. “So you're fine with her feeling neglected and unfulfilled? You're fine with her waiting anxiously for you to return, even though you're not sure when that might be?” he says, pressing harder on that guilt button.

“If it was up to me Buck...I would have taken good care of her. After all she’s ours.” Bucky ignores this bizarre choice of wording, he doesn't pick up on the fact, that Steve is claiming you as his own, as something that they share, instead of something that's strictly Bucky's. The more he's forced to confront his own feelings of inadequacy, the less Bucky thinks about the finer details, and he easily looks past the odd slip up in wording.

Bucky falls right into Steve's trap without a second thought. He lets his guard down and makes the unfortunate mistake of saying the one thing, Steve's been gunning to hear him say all along.

“Steve, you can look after her,” Bucky says, giving Steve full permission to take over and spend time with you, making him responsible for fulfilling all your needs and desires.

This is exactly what Steve wanted. He wanted to undermine Bucky's confidence and plant the seeds of doubt in his mind. And it worked perfectly

Steve can't hold back his triumph when he sees that his manipulation plan is already working. His smirk grows a bit bigger, and he takes on a more innocent and nonchalant attitude when he replies to Bucky.

“I don't know... Are you sure about this?” his tone is soft, the words slightly hesitant, as if he's not quite sure he should do it, but is open to the possibility. But deep down, Steve knows exactly what he's doing, and he's more than confident in taking on this new role in your life. He's more than willing to be responsible for fulfilling his your needs and fulfilling his your desires, and he's more than ready to take the place of a husband, the place of Bucky. 

Bucky assures him, “Yes, I'm sure. I trust you. I know that you care deeply about her, and that you'll take good care of her.” Bucky trusts Steve and believes he'll treat you with the upmost respect.

But Steve knows that he's already got Bucky, right where he wants him, and that all he needs to do is play the innocent role for a little while longer, before he drops his facade and finally gets what he's been after this entire time, you.

Bucky receives a mission call, one that requires him to leave immediately for work, something about the power broker. He's relieved knowing that his best friend is going to take care of you while he's gone, and that takes some of the guilt off his shoulders. But little does he know; this is exactly the outcome Steve was looking for.

You're completely oblivious to what's just happened, to the entire situation playing out, between Steve and Bucky. The thought that Steve would try to seize his opportunity and that he's been planning this for a while never crosses your mind. You just think that this is another evening with them, not realizing that it'll be one of the most defining nights of your life.

After Bucky leaves, Steve starts to make his move on you.

Steve gets you a glass of milk, mixing in a small quantity of sleeping powder, to make its effects stronger. He brings the glass to you, passing it off as a friendly gesture, in the hopes that you'll drink it.

You decline politely, saying that you're missing Bucky. This angers Steve, and he tries to mask his anger through a friendly smile.

“Come on, don't tell me you can't have a glass of milk, without him being here.” he says.

“No, it's not that,” you say. “I'm just not really craving anything right now.”

“But it's just a glass of milk,” he counters back, his tone and facial expression becoming slightly more insistent. “It won't hurt you to have a small glass of milk...”

You refuse again. Steve can see that his attempts, to manipulate you into drinking the milk, are not working, and his anger is growing more and more. He's not used to not getting his way, and this whole situation, that he has carefully planned and carried out, is not going the way he wanted to. He refuses to give up, and his tone becomes slightly more aggressive.

“Just have some, just try it. Come on,” he says, his voice beginning to take on a more insistent tone.

You get a little angry at his persistence, feeling slightly more annoyed at his insistent demands. “No, you keep insisting, but I keep saying I don't want it,” you reply, raising the volume. “I said no, and I meant it. I don't want any milk right now, so just let it go”.

“Just drink the fucking milk!” Steve yells at you, making your flinch. His anger breaking the mask that he had been wearing up until now. He does not care about being the loving and caring friend anymore, and he shows his true colors. He does not care, all he cares about is getting what he wants. He notices that this has a profound effect on you, and he smirks, seeing that he's managed to scare you.

You take a few sips to pacify him, although the taste of the milk makes you feel a bit weird. “What's in the milk?” you ask as you try, to set the glass down, but the room spins before your eyes.

Steve smiles at you, and his tone becomes less aggressive. “Oh, just something special to help you relax…” he says, with a smug smile. He watches you set the glass down, having a little bit of trouble remaining upright, that the effects of the sleeping powder, is starting to take hold on you. Your speech is getting slightly slurred, and you seem to be stumbling a little bit. He keeps a close watch on you, making sure, that these changes are happening. the way he planned.

Steve sees that you're in a vulnerable position, and he wastes no time in making his move. He takes you by surprise, taking advantage of the sleeping powder. He moves closer to you, slowly moving his hands onto your body, taking you in, while you're still conscious, but too sleepy to fully protest, what's happening.

“Shh, just relax,” he says. “Don't worry, it's all right, everything's fine…” he continues, stroking your hair as he speaks, his hands slowly traveling over your body.

He wraps his arms around you, pressing his nose into your shoulder. “It’s okay, we are not doing anything wrong…just enjoy.” He sighed, his nose running over your neck, his lips connecting and leaving gentle kisses all along the skin.

“No...no…I'm married...Bucky…” You try to remind him, but everything comes out as slurred. 

“Bucky knows and approves.” he tells you, which only adds to your confusion and the disorientation you're feeling, from the sleeping powder in your system. He starts to undress himself and you, leading you to the bedroom, leaving you little chance to resist, as your body feels increasingly heavy and tired and your mind becomes less alert and aware.

Steve continues his advances, as he's been wanting this for a long time, and now he finally has his chance and is going to take it. He's going to take you.

“You have no idea, how much I have come seeing you naked, seeing you getting worked up by Bucky.” Your eyes widen with shock and Steve just chuckles, patting your cheek, “I'll tell you about it some other time.”

Once Steve has stripped you completely, he lets you go to remove his own bottom, leaving you feeling completely vulnerable, exposed and helpless in his presence.

He smiles at you as you try, to escape the room on wobbly legs, not able to resist anymore, because of the sleeping powder and the effect on you. He catches you easily with his hands, grabbing your shoulders and pulling you back into his grip. “You are not going anywhere, angel...” he says, smirking at you as he makes his intentions all the clear.

“Now, let's have some fun,” he whispers, putting his hands back on your body, ready to finally have, his way with you. You try to struggle, to resist for a few seconds, but your body grows so feeble that it's almost pointless. He picks you up with ease, carrying you to the bed, and lowers you down on the bed, hovering over you, ready to finally take you.

“There's no point in fighting anymore…” his voice grows slightly more aggressive, taking on a more demanding tone, as he makes his intentions all the clear. “Just lay quiet for me, ‘angel’,” he demands, the word coming across as more of an order, than a gentle pet name.

“You're all mine now!” he tells you, not quite whispering but keeping his voice soft and low, trying to disguise the sinister undertones of his words. His hands greedily cup your breasts. “Mine” he groaned.

His kisses and bites were getting a little rougher now. His hips grinding against yours, as he worked his way over your collarbone. With each kiss on your skin, he kept moaning “mine”, almost as if he's trying to reassure himself as much as you.

He lifted his head, a cocky smirk on his lips as he looked at the love bites, now dotting along your skin. He was proud of his work, that cocky smirk still on his face.

“Please,” you try to plead, your voice barely audible and your body so weak, that it's barely enough effort, to get the word out. But Steve is not swayed by your plea, and he's not about to stop what he has already started.

“Please?” he repeats your plea, a smirk spreading on his lip as he says it. He knows that you're not in a position to resist whatsoever, that it would be pointless for you to even try. “Please what?” he asks, his voice taking on a more aggressive tone, demanding.

He gave you a soft smile, rubbing circles against your hips.

“I will make you feel so good, just relax my angel... Let it happen.” 

He leans closer and captures your lips again, his teeth nibbled at your bottom lip, before tugging gently on it, letting his tongue inside your mouth. A moan escaped your throat when his fingers traced your pussy, his fingers glistening from your wetness.

Steve feels your body's reaction to his touches, the way it continues to grow warmer in his hands, as well as the pressure of his body on yours. He knows that it's working, that his plan is taking effect. He presses up against you even more, letting his hands roam even more, trying to get your body into a full response.

Between your moans, you take Bucky's name, which immediately catches Steve's attention. His grip begins to tighten on you a little bit, his movements becoming rougher, as he realizes that you are remembering Bucky. He doesn't like that you're thinking of Bucky, and he wants to make sure that your whole mind and your whole body is on him.

He bites your neck harshly, making you scream and cry, not caring about how much it hurts you, just focusing on getting control over you, and stopping you from thinking about Bucky.

“I'll take care of your needs, angel…just say my name, focus on me.” He slid his index and middle fingers inside you, slowly dipping down, deep into your core. He started to move in and out. He licked his lips, as his tongue met his fingers, making you whine. He started to thrust his fingers faster, his tongue circling your button. His tongue was driving you crazy, at how good it felt against your clit.

His tongue placing fast, licks to your clit, the pleasure wrapped you up once more in its tendrils. You panted for air, as your pussy clenched around him, and when he wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked, you were done.

The sensation of his fingers and tongue, simultaneously begin to overwhelm you, your cries slowly turn into moans, and you start uttering his name “Steve” instead, making him happy.

“We are not done yet angel…” Steve cooed at you, seeing your flushed face. “You're going to take my cock like an angel you are. I’m going to fuck you so good angel.” Steve said, as he squeezes one of your breast, while sucking the other.

Steve pulled your legs apart; he took a good look at your pussy and licked his lips. You couldn’t do anything now.

Spreading your legs, he sniffed your cunt. He fisted his cock, ready to impale your pussy.

Rubbing the tip of his cock, Steve was gentle, to enter inside you. You let out a muffled groan. You were warm, your pussy accepted him easily. “So fucking tight and warm for me, my angel.” Steve began to move. His moans getting louder, with each thrust. His hands comfortably rested on your waist, as he moved in and out.

Steve kissed you deeply. He was determined to prove he was better for you. Better than Bucky. Throwing your leg on his shoulder, he found himself a new angle. Allowing him to go deeper.

“So good for me angel...”

You were trapped, but your pleasure was building, with each thrust.

You let out a moan, making him go faster.

You were clenching around him, your body begging him to let you cum. “St…Steve…please…”

Steve lowered himself on you, putting pressure on your stomach, he kissed you passionately. He could feel you clench around him and he wanted more. His hand smoothly reached between your bodies, he began to rub your clit.

You moaned into the kiss, as you came hard, Steve not far behind. “I'm... I'm gonna come angel...” he pants as he nears his climax.

“N...no...not...inside...” you manage to tell him with your slurred speech. But Steve just tuts you, thrusting harder. “I know you are on pills, angel.”

He spent himself inside you. Still thrusting, making sure not to waste a single drop. Filling you up to the brim. He collapsed on top of you, catching his breath. Your body was trembling and quivering beneath him.

He pecks your lips once again, as he lays you gently on his chest, your head resting peacefully on him. He caresses your hair, a small smirk on his lips, as this was only the beginning, that soon he will have you all to himself. He will separate you from Bucky, it's only a matter of time right now.

As you fall asleep on Steve, he takes his phone and calls someone, presumably someone that he's hoping to utilize in the future. He doesn't let you go, as he makes the call, and keeps his arm wrapped tightly around you, gently caressing your hair as he talks on the phone.

“I can help you, to get back into the states.” “Oh my god, Steve?” “I need you to do something for me.” “Of course, anything!!!” “Good, wait for my further instructions.”

He ends the call and rests, keeping you tightly against him. He starts to dream about his future with you, visualizing all the things he wants to do with you, all the things he wants to take control of. He is already beginning to fantasize about the life that he is going to create with you, how he is going to make this into everything he has ever dreamed of having.

He dreams about his future with you, visions of you as his wife, mother of his kids. He has replaced your pills with calcium tablets. You two will be, more and more prevalent, and living together and being totally devoted to each other, leaving Bucky behind in the past.

You are not doll; you are his angel.

Only his... “Mine”

TAGLIST- @imyourbratzdoll @blackhawkfanatic @ordelixx @sapphirebarnes @ilovetaquitosmmmm

@differenttyphoonwerewolf @vicmc624 @thezombieprostitute @nekoannie-chan @emerald-writes

@redbloodedgurl @cjand10 @chemtrails-club @slutforchrisjamalevans

@ghostlythinggoingaround @princezzjasmine @3xclusivemariii @ephemeral-oasis @geeky-politics-46

@whore-for-chris-evans @caplanreblogsfics

[undiscovered-horizon]

hello! if you accept requests for one peaceLive action (I hope)

could you write reader x sanji and I have a strange idea

what if with reader flirting.... another cook? and Sanji feels not just jealousy, but double jealousy... it's very strange, I know, but still I think it's quite interesting.

thank you in advance🙏💕

Enjoying my work? You can leave me a tip on Ko-Fi | Have a request?

The smell of spices, ripe fruit and freshly made food hits your nostrils. It's markets like this that truly show the genius loci of the place. Mobs of people roll through the narrow spaces between stalls that are bending under the weight of displayed products.

You glance at Sanji, who's walking next to you. Judging by the bliss on his face, you'd think you're in heaven and not some unmarked island in the middle of nowhere.

Then a specific aroma reaches you - something you haven't smelled in a long time but could never forget. It's tangy, creamy and herbal...

"Can you smell it?" you turn to Sanji, suddenly stopping in your tracks. Excitement bubbles inside your chest and cherished memories of beautiful days with wonderful people flash before your eyes.

"You'll have to be a little more precise, love," he answers with undeniable fondness in his voice. His thumb is softly rubbing the skin of your hand.

"Lemon tarragon sauce," you say as if it's the most obvious thing. Looking around, you catch a glimpse of a pot filled with yellow-ish, creamy dip. "Right there!"

Tugging at his arm, you pull him in the direction of the stall and the source of the delightful smell. The market stand is managed by a man around your age. He has a head full of black, dense curls that perfectly suit his tanned skin. There's a clean dish towel tied around his neck as if it's an ascot. Skilled, muscular hands move between pans, pots and counters as he's restlessly grilling meat, fish and prawns to put them in cones made from newspaper and layer the tarragon sauce on top.

The street cook looks up from the dishes when he notices customers approaching. As his dark eyes set on you, the man suddenly perks up and a playful smile curves his raspberry-coloured lips.

"Mademoiselle," he says with a certain intensity to his voice. It almost sounds like he's asking you something.

Sanji immediately cringes at the man's tone. This suave, decadent drawl is something he's also used the very first time he saw you. And considering the fact that you're tightly holding his hand, it had worked perfectly. Now just to make sure that this terragon-smelling, ascot-wearing sleazy guy isn't as successful.

"How can I thank you for brightening up my day?"

"I'd love a serving of prawns with tarragon sauce," you say thrilled. It seems that you're either missing the flirtatious aura surrounding the man or you're willfully ignoring them.

Sanji feels his chest tighten and a bitter taste fills his mouth. Why would you be so excited about someone else's cooking? Worse - what if you will prefer that guy's food over his?

The street cook gets to grilling freshly caught prawns. His fingers skilfully dance in the air as he seasons the seafood and mixes it in the pan. Garlic and lemon pepper fragrances overthrow your senses.

The ascot-wearing man gives you a curious look. "What are you looking for at the end of the world, flower?" he asks.

But before you can answer, Sanji cuts in. "We're on a shore leave," he answers coldly. "Won't stay for long."

"That's a shame," the local chef continues unaffected by Sanji's impertinence. His eyes are fixed on you, eating you up like you're the local delicacy and not the seafood in the pan. "At night the island looks even better. Not that it could compare," he says with a wink.

In a swift move, the man moves the prawns from the pan onto a page from a newspaper. He quickly rolls the paper into a cone. Clearly, he's been doing this for a very long time.

"You're from around here, right?" you carry on the conversation.

"Born and raised, ma cherie," he answers with pride. That shouldn't come as a surprise - ever since the Marines built a base on the surrounding archipelago, the islands have been filled with immigrants who couldn't care less about local traditions and customs.

Sanji feels his irritation only growing, hearing how the pet name rolls off the man's tongue naturally, as though he's calling you by your given name. It feels wrong down to the marrow of his bones.

"So, as a local, can you recommend something to pass the time?"

The bitterness Sanji involuntarily tastes on his tongue is mixed with sweetness that only you can bring him. Of course you don't notice the flirtatious tone - you just want the tarragon sauce and something fun to do before tomorrow comes and the Straw Hats are off for another voyage.

Then, another nice thought stirs inside his head. Maybe you're too deep in love with Sanji to even notice another man's interest? The idea makes him giddy like he's a schoolgirl with a crush. He almost misses the next part of the conversation, too busy with his adorable, a little cringy, daydream:

"While the weather is still good and the nights are warm, skinny dipping is quite popular," the local cook answers while pouring tarragon sauce over the grilled prawns. "Much better with good company," he purrs out. "Prawns with tarragon sauce, on the house." The man hands you your order but with only one cocktail stick as though the blond chef next to you doesn't count as a customer.

Excited, you take the paper cone from the street vendor. But before you can try the food, Sanji takes the stick and takes the first bite.

A frown enters his face as he chews the prawn. Then he sighs in disappointment.

"Do you seriously call this cooking?" he asks the ascot-wearing man. His voice is laced with anger and disbelief. "A fishman would make a better sauce. It's missing white wine and anise. And there's too much garlic."

You hiss his name out but Sanji appears unaffected. Forcing a polite smile, you turn to the street vendor, who's glancing between you and your boyfriend with a look of superiority. "Thank you for the food and sorry for Grumpy over here."

Only when you're a few paces away from the vendor and definitely out of earshot, do you confront Sanji about his mordant humor.

"No need to get snappy."

He forces his lips into a thin line. "His food is shit and he keeps making piss poor attempts at flirting when you're clearly," he lifts your intertwined fingers, "not a mademoiselle." Although Sanji quotes the word in mockery, it sounds delicious coming from him. If you weren't already sharing his bed, right now you'd be seriously considering it. Planning it even.

"So that's what this is about?" you ask as laughter forces its way out of your chest. Considering how whipped you are for Sanji, it seems ridiculous that you could think romantically about other men. "You're jealous about a smooth-talking cook. Sounds like someone I know."

"Does it?" he picks up on your banter. That familiar, playful smile returns to his face. His eyes momentarily light up, flashing you a glint of various emotions: desire, amusement, adoration. "How many smooth-talking cooks have you seduced?"

You shrug your shoulders and shake your head dramatically. "Don't know. Never bothered to count. I'm just looking for someone to make me lemon tarragon sauce any time I want."

Sanji's hand again rubs the skin of your palm. His other hand reaches for your face, fingers brushing against your jaw. "For you, little dove, I'd make tarragon sauce every day."

"With white wine and anise?" you ask, leaning in slightly. His scent of cigarette smoke and frying oil fills your lungs. Suddenly, the market around you is nonexistent and there's only Sanji.

"The best lemon tarragon sauce you've ever had," he murmurs against your face. His nose brushes against your cheeks.

"I already have the best."

His lips taste like lemons, butter and herbs when he kisses you. Honestly, this is the best version of the sauce you've ever had.

[beomsjoongie]

Yeosang Head Canons

genre: smut

warning: pussy lover!yeosang (kind of), marking, dick sucking (Yeosang teaches), and regular dick sucking, ab riding, squirting & more. Not proofread!

a/n: someone requested more atz head canons so here’s Yeosang’s (my bias) version! I was going to write his first and this has been in my drafts for a while. I’ve been tweaking it for so long 😭 I will be taking more requests just ask! and DM me if you want something specific (if you can do that I’m sorta new to tumblr!!)

Yeosang who looks very innocent and acts very innocent are mutual friends/yours or his friends, both of your families, and his members. But no one knows that when he gets you alone, he’s the complete opposite. He’s snapping his hips into yours at an insane speed, making it hard to be quiet. He leaves bruises on your neck which you later cover up so he can keep his innocence.

Yeosang who teaches you how to suck his cock. He’s not small, no. And he’s bigger than average so when you told him that you were scared, being inexperienced and all, he understood and promised to teach you how. He wrapped your hand around his cock and put his hand on top. Your hand looked so small comparing to him. He guided your hand up and down at a slow pace. Eventually he let go, his head falling back and letting you continue on for yourself. But when you started to speed up, he lifted his head with furrowed eyebrows. What shocked him even more was when you dragging your tongue on the tip of his leaking cock.

Yeosang who was too focused with the game on his phone to realize how needy you are. So, when you climbed onto his figure, which was lying down in bed, he had finally noticed your need. Wanting to finish his game, he told you to stand up and take your shorts off. You did as you were told and took them off. You watched as he pulled him shirt up to show his abs. He grabbed your arm, guiding you to sit on his abs. You continued to do as you were guided to do but you were still confused. Until. He held onto your hip with one hand and moved you back and forth on his abs. A broken moan left your lips as you felt the hard muscle grind against your clit. He tapped your thigh as a way to keep going while he played his game. You kept going until you came over his thigh, legs shaking.

Yeosang who is desperate to make you feel good on the night of your anniversary. The way he’s on his knees and is looking up at you, waiting to please and to taste you. He’s just waiting for you to give him permission. And when you finally do, he’s quick to sit up further on his knees and eat your pussy like you are his last meal. He made lots of noises and when you pulled his hair, he would groan against your clit, stimulating you more.

Yeosang who slaps your pussy until you’re squirting and cumming all of your thighs and his hand. Lying on the edge of the bed, Yeosang standing over you, slapping your pussy and forcing you to sit up on your elbows and watch in the mirror as he does so. And when you close your legs because it gets too much, he’ll force them open and slap harder, extending the punishment again and again.

Yeosang who lets you suck his dick after he had a long day of practice. He came home throwing his bag somewhere and sat down. You had came down and asked how to make him feel better after he said how tense and tired he was. He immediately went into a manspread. You got the hint, goes down and taking his dick out. Sucking his dick, you placed one hand on his knee and jerked his dick with the other. He moaned as you deepthroated him. He sat up a bit, taking your hair down from the ponytail and separated 3 pieces. He started to braid your hair as you sucked his dick. (Based on: Peppers by Lana)

Yeosang who keeps his head buried deep in your pussy. He was on his 2 week break and everyday since then, he’s been all touchy, and has fucked you every single day since he got off. But, today was different. He didn’t fuck you but he’s eaten you out ever since around 8pm. It’s now 12am. He’d give you breaks..sometimes! But, he loves the taste of your pussy and misses it too much. When he lifts his head, his chin is dripping with your juices.

Yeosang who uses his deep voice to lead you to your orgasm. Whispering things in your ear like, “come on baby, you’re so close. I can feel it”, “you’re clenching so hard, baby,” or “come on I got you. Cum, baby.” In the end, his words are what made your orgasm hit harder than it usually does.

Yeosang who wins a game and makes you strip. You and Yeosang were playing a game of Truth or Strip. If you can’t answer the question/truth given, then you have to strip. Yeosang, being the dirty cheater he is, asked you hard and embarrassing question. In the middle of the game, you only had a bra and a skirt on while Yeosang was fully clothed. You ended up sighing and just taking all of your clothes anyway. You suddenly found both of yourselves naked and making out on Yeosang’s bed.

[garr9988]

I say this as a big SU fan: If I had to give Steven Universe one glaring L above all else, while fully recognizing that it may be at least in part due to the final season & Future being so rushed:

It’s having Rose and her death be so heavily suicidal-coded (the art books went in on how much she loathed herself and thought she was incapable of changing, so) and yet ending the series with Steven being so irreconcilably angry with her and the impact of her death that he locks a reminder/representation of her away in a place he doesn’t visit so that he doesn’t even have to acknowledge her existence.

Granted, the finale ended with Steven getting therapy and clearly improving his relationships with the Gems, Greg, and Connie that were similarly causing him grief, but Rose in particular is a very specific case in that we don’t see whether he improves his feelings on her, and because she’s dead she isn’t an active presence in his life that he’s compelled to reconcile with. Greg is his dad and Connie is his girlfriend, he has to like them to keep them around, but there’s no incentive with Rose.

There’s also Greg, Pearl, and Volleyball still loving Rose even with the full picture, but to me that feels barely there anyway, a half-hearted tack-on.

I still have a big gripe with the movie for tacking on Rose’s treatment of Spinel and making Rose seem even worse than before, purely because neither the movie nor Future remind the audience of the ways she eventually improved. It felt like the writers went too far when they had already given us Rose’s story in reverse and already had the characters react negatively to the news she was Pink Diamond in the original show.

There’s obviously room for audiences having to remember these things themselves and that a narrative doesn’t have to point these out all the time. But a narrative bears responsibility for the way it frames things and the way it wants or expects an audience to view something.

Rose’s redemption arc being shown in reverse IS cool, in concept! But when the audience insert protagonist and a lot of other characters get this reverse arc and act like the terrible things are the conclusion of her self, that these secrets aren’t her past that she left behind but the mask being ripped off and the true evil monster being revealed for who she is… it doesn’t leave a good taste in my mouth.

That’s certainly part of why a good chunk of the fandom hates Rose the way they do, bc to a non-negligible extent the show is fostering their view, playing it out on screen without actually correcting it.

It’s obviously realistic and possible and downright good & compelling for someone to have a very negative response to another character’s death (suicide) and the fallout they’re left with. But a character who dies in such a way, especially Rose. deserves to be given sympathy and respect within the narrative.

[on-the-clear-blue]

The idea warms are hitting extremely hard today, so outside of my usual DPxDC I give you, Spider-Man in Gotham...Not MCU Peter edition!

Give me a Peter Parker that is 18 going on onto 19, he has been Spider-Man for like, 5 almost 6 years, getting his bite very early, and dealing with all the things that happen to him younger.

And give me a Year One Batman. Who is still trying to figure out what the hell he is doing, and toting along a 9 year old Robin

Peter, falling out of a portal, and doing his standard check of surroundings, spotting Batman staring at him in clunky armor and a brightly colored child: Waves slowly

Bruce, who heard some freaky shit was happening with a cult near by and went to investigate: blinking at the blue and red being that got summoned

Dickie, who is trying (and failing) to do the Bat glare: still waves back.

And like, just the idea of this 19 year old Spider-Man taking a much older vigilante under his wing, teaching him the ins and outs of it all.

Like..

Bruce, Storming through a bag guys base gets suddenly pulled back by a web to his cape.

Peter, giving him a "bitch you dumb" look under his mask: Traps! LOOK FOR TRAPS?? AND LOOK UP? PEOPLE HID THINGS UP?

Bonus, Spider-Man bending himself into a human pretzels and Dick "I have no bones" Grayson is gleefully testing to see if he could do it too.

Jump cut, years later, Peter beats emotional intelligence into Bruce with Dick.

All the Bat kids grow up with Uncle Peter, (either Peter can't get back or has been told specifically that he can't by a higher being or something) and like...

Peter is the only one that catches Tiny Tim following them during patrol, he shows him all the places to get the best angles, even poses a few times for him.

Either is there when Jason dies and saves him, or is there mourning with Bruce

(Gotham lives in fear of the memory, Batman at his most brutal and Black Suit Spider-Man)

Teaches Jason how to control his pit rage after he comes back, what is Spider-Man if not control?

Stephanie is his bestie in puns and white girl music tastes.

Tim finds a partner in constantly staying up far to late as well as someone who likes to invent,( because I hc that Peter has pretty much worked with every scientist in New York, cus like since this is a blend of canons, he has worked with the Lizard, Doc Oct, Reed Richards, the only one he said no to an internship was Stark)

Duke gets a meta mentor that can help him with his powers, Spidey has been on more than one team with someone that had some form of light powers.

Plus I think Spider-man is Gothams daytime hero before Signal joins him, they are the daytime duo

Cass is his favorite (don't tell anyone because they already know) she can see him and he can see her in a spider sense, they do the point meme whenever they sense each other.

Little stabby Damian finds out that this person with his father has been trained by many an assassin (Wade, Daredevil, Natasha, Shield in general)

And Wade...Deadpool pops up occasionally, even he doesn't understand why or how lBruce gets a strange feeling he should punch the Flash in the face the next time he sees him)

Bruce having to deal with Deadpool is terrible for him and I sadly love it.

(Also on the point of Black suit spidey in Gotham...ESPECIALLY after Jason is murdered? Oh Peter is killing the Joker, or his arm privileges forfeit. I feel like Peter would try not to kill him but wouldn't try too hard.)

Spider-man being a founding members of the Justice League, them having to deal with Peter crawling on the ceiling, and scuttering through air vents!

Peter making Parker Industries, pointing inventions from other heros/villains from his world, he isn't above pettiness, and that's how the DC world gets some of Reed Richard's old designs he gave to Peter "Because they are practically useless" they arnt they save millions of lives. Not to mention Arc Reactors, Peter grinned the whole time claiming it was his idea.

Hope you enjoy my ADHD rambling brought to you be sleep deprivation

[meraki24601]

Power

Hero had seen Villain’s power. They had seen what came of the people they used them on. Some were left mutilated, and others had their minds twisted past the point of no return. It was such a horrible, dangerous power; Hero always did everything they could to keep their sidekicks from getting in Villain’s way. 

They knew all of this, but for some reason, Hero never believed Villain would use their power on them.

Because of this, when Villain offered Hero water after a short but violent battle, which ended in a draw, Hero accepted it—an honest mistake from someone who rarely faced the consequences of trusting the wrong person. A foolish, simple-minded, honest mistake.

“You fought well today, Hero.” Villain had chattered absently as Hero nearly drowned themselves, guzzling down the water. “There’s no chance I could convince you to work with me? To switch sides?”

Hero chuckled, “You’ve gotten stronger. Any chance you would switch to my side?”

“No. I’m afraid you won’t be seeing me again for a while. If you survive, you’re going to have a rather long recovery.”

“Ha! You’re stronger, but not that strong.” Hero stood and stretched, showing off their flexibility. 

Villain slid out of their chair to kneel in front of Hero. Hero was bent over, touching their toes, and Villain had come so close that their fingertips nearly brushed Villain’s knees. “How is your back, Hero? Feeling tense?”

The question rattled Hero. They knew what had happened, what they had done when they suddenly couldn’t stand upright. It only took one drop of Villain’s power for them to control a victim, and Hero drank their water without questioning why the bottle’s seal had already been broken. 

“Did you know my power manifests as a liquid?” Villain gestured for Hero to lie on the ground at their feet, and Hero’s body obeyed. “It is completely clear and has no scent. It does, however, have a uniquely sweet taste when undiluted. Or, so I’ve been told. Would you like to test if that is true?” 

Villain rubbed their thumb over Hero’s lips. Gentle but determined, the thumb forced it’s way into Hero’s mouth and pressed against their tongue. Several tiny drops of power condensed on Hero’s tongue, and Villain forced them to swallow. “Very good. So well behaved.”

Though no sound escaped, Hero was screaming. They trembled under Villain’s touch. If Villain had asked them to jump off the roof of the building they were on, Hero wouldn’t have been able to stop it from happening. The power had complete control over their body.

“I think we understand each other a little better now. Do you agree?” Villain moved Hero so they were leaning against the parapet. “I’ve learned a new trick recently. I’d like to show you if you have time.”

Hero regained control of their voice, “Don’t. Let me go.”

“Ah, good. I appreciate your willingness. I definitely need the practice.” Villain’s grip tightened on Hero’s vocal cords, strangling their protests. “I heard period cramps can be painful enough to compare to a heart attack. The question I wanted to test was a comparison. Would stripping the lining of another organ be worse? It took some experimentation, but I’ve improved my ability to isolate specific organs and order them or the muscles around them to expand or contract in such a way that the lining breaks apart. It goes something like this…”

Villain kept Hero quiet as they let their power work. They didn’t let Hero rest. It took some doing, but they soon had Hero on their feet, walking beside them as Hero’s stomach began to rip and tear. As they moved through the city, Villain leaned in close to whisper each thing they were going to do to Hero before following through. 

If Hero was honest, those quick warnings were the only thing that kept them sane. Each time their body was ready to give out, Villain commanded their cells to knit back together. Hero’s only hope was the large, dark building they seemed to be heading for. 

“This is it, my dear. We’re home.” Villain sighed into the empty entryway. “Welcome to your new home.”

Villain allowed Hero to scream. 

[angelofthenight]

What Doesn’t Kill Me Pt.1

(Yandere!Alex Delarge x Fem!Reader)

Summary: You were finally free from your abusive and obsessive “boyfriend” when he was arrested with a long sentence. But when he comes back to you on his knees in tears after the Ludovico's Technique, you can’t help but welcome him back into your arms once learning that he is literally incapable of harming you ever again. Yet you begin to question your own morals.

Warnings: Yandere, Dark themes, Ladstat, Swearing/Language, Unhealthy/Abusive relationship, Sexual context/themes, Non-Con (off screen rape), Gangs, Obsessiveness, Home invasion, Sexual sadism, Physical abuse/Violence, Knife threat, Blood, Spitting, Brief pussy slapping, Alex is his own warning, You are responsible for your own content consumption

Word Count: 4.2k

( Fun Fact: I fucking hate Alex so much but I wrote a very long essay about A Clockwork Orange’s moral of redemption for my senior year of film studies class and I got an interesting idea for a yandere fic. Like how would the darling react if the yandere was “cured into being a good person”? )

Table of Contents

~

You hated Alex Delarge. You hated him. You loathed him. You despised him. But most of all, you were terrified of him.

On the contrary, Alex was head over heels in love with you. He was absolutely smitten with you and you were the center of his world.

You were practically forced to be his girlfriend. He just one day walked up to you and declared that you were his girlfriend now. And every day since that day was hell for you, the torturous part of hell that you are chained to.

Your soon to be nightmare all started when you two were just standing next to each other at the record store flipping through rows of records that were next to each other. He pulled out a record that caught your eye, it was one of your favorites, you thought you were the only one in town who listened to that band. Your passion for that specific artist made you smile and say aloud, “I love that record.”

He looked up at you with surprise in his eyes. He didn’t think anyone in town knew the record.

His silence made you awkwardly rant. “I honestly thought I was the only one in town who liked them. No one knew who the hell I was talking about when I would bring it up.” You gave a lighthearted laugh. “I love how the order of the songs makes a story and how each melody can, like, control what you feel. It’s a work of art. Gives me chills every time I listen to it.” You said all of this with your grin growing bigger, so happy you could talk to someone with taste.

The corner of Alex’s lips lifted up and his eyes gleamed with genuine joy, thrilled to meet someone who understands the brilliance of his favorite record. The two of you had a very long conversation about the record which extended to talking about other kinds of music. You both would drag each other around the shop to show the other some of your other favorite records.

You two instantly clicked and got along. Alex felt so comfortable with you, his mind felt at ease, and he enjoyed just simply talking with you. He’s never felt that way about anyone before. He actually enjoyed listening to you. You were so understanding, so open minded, so fascinating.

You two met in the record shop about three more times after that and would hang out for the rest of the day. You liked being around Alex. He was very funny and always put you in a good mood with his positivity. He was a very easygoing and eccentric guy; a rarity in this town full of people with sticks up their asses.

You thought nothing but good things about Alex. You really enjoyed having him as a friend. That is, until he fell for you.

In his own defense, how could he possibly not?

You were so kind and gentle with him, treating him as if he were your priority. You could get so feisty, like a house cat. As much as he loved his women defenseless and frail, your straightforward approach and no-nonsense attitude in situations that called for it really riled him up. You made him laugh and always had knowledgeable opinions. You were so smart and had an ability to be unashamedly open. And you had some real horrorshow groodies.

It was as if you were specifically and meticulously and personally made for just him. You had the same music interests as him, your exact physique was his dream girl body, your jokes always landed perfectly with him, your eyes were coincidentally his favorite color, and your breasts were the perfect size for his hands.

Alex didn’t believe in love, nor believe in wasting time seeking it. But you… you had just infected him with a fever no ice pack could soothe. Your ivy vines laced and intertwined around the wrinkles of his brain making you his constant thought. And those leaves left behind a poison ivy rash he couldn’t scratch away.

You were everything he had ever wanted. Everything he would never be… but still wanted to own.

After a night of exhilarating ultraviolence, terrorization, and vandalism with the gang, he felt such a rush. And because of that rush it was that moment where he realized he had to tell you the truth. He must have you. So he left his pals a little early to make his way straight to your apartment. He knew where you hid your spare key so it was easy storming into your living room and finding you cleaning up after yourself of your dinner.

Alex was too caught up in his adrenaline to take notice that he only took off his mask and hadn’t changed out of his gang-related wardrobe, far too focused on getting to you. But you had noticed. It was the very first thing you noticed as he stood in front of you with a breathless grin. And it was all you could focus on even as Alex declared with a cane in his hand that the reason as to why he’s been acting so strange lately was because he was in love with you.

Your iris’ were shaking and your breath was heavy within your chest as you took in the clothing from his bowler hat down to the visible codpiece. What he was wearing looked exactly like what one specific violent gang wore in the papers next to the article explaining the increase in gang terrorism due to the reduction in policing effectiveness. Juvenile delinquent gangs populated the streets because of how understaffed the police force was, most people barely even went out these days. But, for a reason you now understood, you always felt safe yourself when you went out into public, especially with Alex. But now you understood why you were safe when seen with him.

“Alex… what are you wearing? Is this a joke?” You shakingly spoke out, not responding to his confession which appeared to irk him. He took a step toward you which prompted you to take one back. Alex glanced down at his clothes and in honesty… he didn’t really care if you knew. He was creative with ways he could keep you quiet. He honestly kind of liked it if you knew.

"These here are just my nochy on the town duds with my droogs.” He announced with a sharp grin, gesturing towards his white clothes. “You won't dob me in, won't you, devotchka?” He said with a joking tone despite the threatening look in his eyes.

Your frown sunk down, your lungs feeling as if they were closing in on your heart making it harder to breathe steadily. Your hands wrung together in a nervous fashion as you seemed to cower away from someone you considered a friend. “Alex, you’re scaring me. I… I think you should leave.” You said with the delusional hope that he would respect your wish and exit the way he came.

But Alex wasn’t having it. “Leave without your answer?” He exclaimed as he held out his cane then slammed it down against your floor with one hand on his hip, tilting his head up with a sense of pride. “I think not.”

He wasn’t going to leave until he got your answer to his confession. You felt sick to the pit of your stomach. Your lips parted but no words were released. You didn’t know what to say, too caught up in the chilling realization of Alex’s secret life.

You’d be lying if you said you never really thought of him in that way, because you have once in a blue moon. How could you not with your handsome and funny male friend who always made time for you? You always teased the idea of dating him in your mind, experimented with the thought of being in a relationship with him. But it was never more than that though. More of curiosity and craving a partner rather than a crush.

You struggled to find the right words. “I… I… I feel… I-” You were torn between not wanting to encourage or provoke him yet also fearing your safety. “Spit it out, devotchka. Koshka got your tongue?” He giggled with a devilish smirk.

“I just…” You swallowed the growing lump in your throat, as if trying to swallow your fear, before it got too big that it would render you mute. “I really like you as a friend.” You fully expected him to lash out, scream at you, anything of the sort. But he simply cackled like a child.

“Nonsense, dearie!” He said in between the chuckles. “You’re just taken by surprise, is all! You’ll surely change your mind after some lubbilubbing.”

Your eyes widened in shock and horror and offense. You thrashed your arm up to point at your front door with a face full of upset anger. “Get out, Alex! I mean it!” You demanded, not believing this was all coming from someone you used to respect and think kindly of.

He, however, wasn’t phased by your raised voice and demand as he began to take swinging steps toward you, his cane lifting up to rest over his shoulder. “You’re not just gonna send me off without any sweet treat, are ya, love?” He said with a sick smile, his eyes going hooded with a predatorial shadow over his blue orbs that began to travel your body.

Your blood went cold, stinging your bones like frostbite, as you took notice of your nighttime wear. You didn’t plan for company and due to living alone you had the habit of dressing a little more indecently, as well as because you planned to go to bed right after finishing cleaning your dinner dishes. Your goosebumped skin hardly had the safety of coverage from your silk one-piece pajamas that consisted of thin tank top straps and shorts.

Your bottom lip grew so unbearably heavy that it began to shake, you taking a slow step back despite how close he’s gotten already. Your frighteningly alarmed eyes kept themselves trained on Alex’s as he stalked forward like a lion cornering an antelope, that shit-eating grin still intact.

“Y’know,” he started while he slowly began to close in on you as you walked backwards, “I think, deep down, you’re a bit of a bad girl.” He said, a tone a tad darker than before which only made your heartbeat pump painfully in your pulse. Your terror was slowly swallowing you whole like a drain.

“I think you might get a kick of it if I come on strong, just a bit rough.” He said, and before you could react in fearful panic to what he was implying, he held both ends of his cane in his hands and swung it over your head to land on your lower back. He used the position of his horizontal cane to roughly pull you closer to close the gap, sending you straight into his chest.

You gasped at the action and instantly began to struggle, throwing your hands up in an attempt to push him away by his shoulders or to at least grant some distance between the two of you. But he kept you tightly against him. “Excited now are we, eh?” He chuckled down at you, your resistance getting him all hot and bothered.

Before he confessed how he felt about you, Alex had already assumed that you felt the same way. He had an intense belief in his own perception of reality and didn’t really consider the possibility that you may not share the same feelings. His view of love was distorted and interpreted any signs of kindness or attention as your reciprocation.

But Alex was a self-aware guy. He wasn’t blind and deaf to how you clearly did not want him by how you panicked and struggled within his hold. But now that he thought about it… he didn’t really care about how you felt. Your rejection surprisingly affected him a lot less than he would’ve guessed, it actually didn’t really hurt that much.

He was naturally driven by his own twisted desires and impulses. He just wanted to exert control and power over you, rather than to seek your genuine love and affection, even though he had to admit that those would be nice to have. It was like he was in his own world, detached from the reality of reciprocal love.

He loved you. And that was all that mattered. He could still do whatever he wanted to you. And with the right tactics, he could make you do whatever he wanted. So what exact difference would your feelings make?

Alex’s cane dug into your lumbar spine, springing a pained wince past your teeth. Your attention was so focused on the pain on your skin that you gasped in unpleasant surprise at one specific tug on your body that made your pelvis grind right into the bulge of the codpiece. You stifled your whimper behind your teeth, the hard pad rubbing a sensitive part of your clit as Alex continued this action with a malicious grin.

When he got you distracted enough he took the opportunity to quickly pivot around you, rotating his cane around your body from your lower back to against your neck. The sudden harsh pressure on your throat instantly made you wheeze, your hands flying up to grasp onto the stick to try to grant you some air but to no avail due to the imbalance of strength between you and Alex.

You felt his chin rest in the crook of your neck and shoulder, his cheek also pressed against the side of your neck. You felt his smile and heard his pleasurable inhale through his nose. He was enjoying your struggle. He lifted his head so that his lips touched the shell of your ear, prompting you to make an effort to squirm away from his touch. But the grip he had on the cane across your frail throat made it easy to keep you as close as possible.

“Very well tomorrow’s your laundry day,” he practically purred into your eardrum which only created nausea that spread throughout your gut, “because those sheets of yours are about to get very merzky.”

If his innuendo hadn’t paralyzed you to absolute terror, you would’ve paid more fearful mind to the question on how he knew when you did your laundry.

You whimpered in powerless fear when he jerked you with the cane to force you to walk backwards. Well it was mostly him walking and your feet practically being dragged; your hands still remained on the cane to try to loosen its pressure on your cartilage. He led the two of you into your bedroom, jabbing his foot back to kick your door open in a wider frame. Once you were in he had tossed you onto the mattress with little care.

Tears began to prickle your eyes once you had collided into your bed, coughs following from the stinging pain on your throat as you gently touched where it hurt. You weren’t allowed much relief of personal space when Alex threw his hat to the side before crawling onto the mattress to reach you. He tightly grasped your biceps to flip you onto your back, him taking a comfortable seat on your waist.

He angled his torso above you and rocked his hips, grinding his clothed erection against your pelvis just once before he placed one hand next to your head. His other hand slowly wrapped itself around your face to force your shaking, watering eyes onto his carnivorous ones. He stared at you for a moment, a moment too long for your comfort. He stared at you and you could practically see the feverish twisted and covetous thoughts stream behind those bright blue eyes. And then a Cheshire Cat grin spread his lips after realizations awoke in his mind.

“Thou art such a beauty when you platch.” He said. The feeling of sadistic fervor and his far-too-long repressed lustful temptations were morphed together into bedroom eyes.

You went owl-eyed around your petrified pupils. Finally, you couldn’t hold the weight any longer as the situation became much too real to you and the heavy tears spilled out of your eyes. Alex’s smile widened before he pushed himself back up to straight posture, both of his hands reaching behind his back to unsheathe a dagger from his cane.

The sight of the long and sharp blade made your deep frowning lips part, a faint yelp weak in your throat. It was as if your horror stole all the words from you and left you far too terrified and weak to say anything. And your ears felt nearly deaf from the violent beating of your heart that rang in your eardrums. The only sounds you could hear were your scared sobbing wails and the sound of your pajamas ripping as he dragged the dagger down the clothing like a zipper.

Once sliced open enough, Alex placed the knife in his mouth to hold it with his teeth as he used his hands to tear it open the rest of the way. You were left in nothing but your panties, no bra due to the fact you had planned for independent slumber. But now you wished your sleeping customs were different as you laid exposed and helplessly vulnerable underneath the wicked monster you once felt joyful to call your dear friend.

And that monster’s eyes took in your vulnerability with a deranged infatuation; eyes that ravished the sight so hungrily. With the dagger still clenched between his white teeth, Alex’s hands were free to reach down and grope your breasts like dough. You whimpered with a feeble tremble, your leaking eyes squeezed shut in severe discomfort as you tightly gripped the sheets with white knuckles.

He grasped the side cups of your chest to push your bust together, giving him a better view of both of them at the same time. The action made you sharply inhale from the sensitivity, but it was as if that woke you up because you then felt the protective courage to snatch his wrists in an attempt to claw his unwanted touch off you; furious and disgusted by his animalistic audacity.

Your attempt of defense was rendered as nothing but a detriment to yourself as it was simple for Alex to free himself from your hold. One hand slammed onto your elbow to cage it to the mattress and his other hand retracted the dagger from his mouth to push it horizontally against your still hurt throat. Not hard enough to draw blood but hard enough to make you cower away from him and attempt to push yourself deeper into the mattress to escape the touch of the blade.

“Now, now, now, my dear darling.” He spoke with a sharp smile and pupils dilated in insanity. “Don’t do anything you will regret. Best to just lay back, relax, and enjoy the show. Maybe a couple of tears here and there for sweetness. But be the noble girl you always are and behave while I ravage your cunt.”

He turned the dagger diagonally to rest the tip atop the center of your collarbone. His grip on the handle was tight and you knew one wrong move on either of your ends would end with your blood gushing down your naked body. “I’d hate to carve up such elegant plott. It’d be a sin!” He tapped and glided the blade against your neck teasingly.

He leaned down to position his lips next to your ear. “But it’s a good thing I’m not a gloopy malenky dobby church boy.” He breathed out, causing your limbs to shiver in sickened fear. “I’m not afraid to get a little sinful.” He husked before he opened his mouth to drag his wet, warm tongue from your jawline up to your ear. Your joyless frown involuntary trembled.

Alex angled his face above yours, taking in your visibly terrified features and your salty rivers of tears and nearly salivating at the sight. “Now… Do you promise to behave?” He asked you with a cruel, mocking tone. The breathy, agonized sob you were holding occupied your throat so all you could do was reply with a twitchy yet compliant nod.

His smile practically lit up. “That’s my devotchka!” He exclaimed proudly before parting the dagger from your chest and instead moving it to rest against your jawline, allowing his thumb to caress your tearfully wet cheekbone. He dipped his head down to capture your lips within his for a sweet and simple kiss. He separated himself after he was satisfied with the taste to look up into your immensely glossy eyes with unfiltered fondness.

Your intoxicating lips tempted him to return for another, but quicker, deep kiss before his hands slid down your waist to hook his long fingers around the hem of your panties. He kept them there as he moved himself to come face to face with your sheltered cunt. Your frowning lips quivered as you bit them to ease your pounding heart. But not even your mind that tried to make you recite an entire work day in your head to distance yourself from your reality could distract you from Alex lifting your hips high up into the air so that he could straighten his back.

He smiled devilishly down at your forbidden flower with unhinged admiration laced within his features and eyes, your legs dangling over his shoulders. And without a hint he had shoved his nose straight into your clothed clit and took a deep, dirty inhale. You whined at the contact. He removed his nose to look down at you. “My, oh my. Your sladky von of strack is quite to die for, my dear.” He chuckled sardonically in his throat to himself before jokingly pecking a kiss to your clothed folds, creating a ‘mwah’ sound, and chuckling again at your second whine. He truly found your meek fear amusing.

He released the hold he had on your hips, letting your lower body plop back onto the bed with a bounce. Then he jumped the gun, his hands back onto the band of your panties and tugging them off down your shivering legs. Clasping his hands tightly onto your inner thighs, he pushed them apart to spread your legs wide open to put your cunt on full display for his ravishing eyes.

Breathy sobs began to invade your voice despite your desperate resistance to such. You just couldn’t believe this was happening. Your body shook as if you were freezing yet you felt your humid sweat as if you were boiling, it was a sickening feeling as your once sanguine world crumbled around you.

Alex retched inward to spit onto your clitoris, gave it a second to let his thick saliva ooze down your folds before using his fingers to rub in the slimy substance. He used an up and down then circular motion before giving it a slap, creating a wet, lewd sound.

You barely even registered Alex removing his codpiece then pants and boxers until he positioned his erection near your now wet hole and climbed on top of you, leaning his face awfully close to yours with his hands pinning your wrists. He relished the sight of your bloodshot eyes coated with hot tears and the sound of your distressed sobbing begs. A sense of sick euphoria swelled up within him.

Oh god how he adored you; his severe psychopathic obsession. Truthfully, Alex would’ve done whatever it took to have you.

He held a predatory gaze. “You’re my world, darling.” He purred to you before thrusting himself into you with a possessive claim and lustful selfishness fueling him.

Alex was right about your sheets. After a very long night of the old in-out-in-out, multiple rounds and positions and orgasms later, he finally left you on your bed and made his exit. Not without promising that he'd be back and proclaiming that you were now his and his alone though. And threatening you as well about tattling.

He was right, your sheets became filthy. They were vandalized with both of your climax’s and your blood, as well as your tears and a few rips that had been made with your gripping nails and his dagger. Your body was as vandalized as your sheets. The elegant skin of yours he seemed so fond of was now littered with bruises, hickey’s, bite marks, nail scratches, and small blade wounds (you just couldn’t stop yourself from resisting and fighting back so many times). But it seemed like he loved the sight and color of your blood as he had lapped it up every time his dagger and his teeth punctured into you.

You laid in the mess and weeped. Your mind was vandalized worse than both your sheets and body. Vandalized with betrayal, trauma, violation, dread, and a mortified horror. All of what Alex was deep down this entire time.

That was when your life became the torturous hell you had to live with.

[simplyreveries]

love langauges; heartslabyul

just what my opinion!! i think ill do this for the other dorms as well :)

riddle rosehearts

receiving: quality time

riddle as we know is pretty inexperienced with love and relationships in general. he struggles with wanting to do things almost by the book all the time since that's all he knows. hence why in the beginning of your relationship you may see him planning out in detail how a lot of things are going to go. you remind him these things happen more so naturally!!

he loves to see you whenever you just decide to pop by his dorm, but he feels unprepared-- he'll ask trey to make you some treats or brew some tea, ask cater to set up a nice small table outside to enjoy. you're going to have to gently remind him that it's okay haha.

whenever he's around you he gets such a sense of peace that he really needs for himself. riddle can easily get lost in track of time around you.

he can grow more seemingly impatient and hotheaded towards others in his dorm when hes being strict about rules when hes had less time with you if you've been busy and such. everyone notices his more negative energy; he can't help but feel so much better around you.

giving: gifts

okay i think he would reeally love to give little gifts to a lot. since hes no good at really expressing himself, he gets flustered easily, so he prompts to giving you things like flowers ("roses for my rose" as he'd say), with those flowers you'll sometimes receive a fancy looking letter from him.

riddle is very keen and observant on things you like or mention wanting like maybe a new book you wanted or paints. he loves to watch your face light up whenever he gifts you anything. he feels so proud of himself to because he feels like he's doing something right when figuring out relationships.

if you ask him why he randomly gifts pretty and nice things randomly he'll be confused and tell you something like: "why? well it's been exactly 100 days we've been together." he celebrates REALLY specific dates and milestones. he thinks its a no-brainer that hes doing all this.

trey clover

receiving: quality time

trey is much like riddle he's very content and happen when he's just with you. especially when you come over and chat his ear off about random and mundane things while he tries to bake. if you like to bake, he'd enjoy doing it with you but if not he's just as fine with you sitting up on the counter and being his taste-tester.

he also likes it when he gets to show you what he's done with the science club with the plants he's grown. he gladly tells you all about it as you stroll around nrcs botanical gardens.

though he's no avid planner like riddle is, he still will make some of an effort to make sure you enjoy yourself around him with something to do, that includes mostly baking or even coming along with him as he prepares for yet another unbirthday party for heartslabyul.

giving: words of affirmation

he can be pretty cheeky jerk when it comes to you and will take a lot of opportunities to make you all nervous around him with compliments or praise. he always says it in such a casual way with a smile whenever he does it.

but he really does genuinely lift you up all the time, he always gently and affirmingly reminds you in some way of something he loves about you, basically every day. he also gives some real good advice and can be someone to talk to, trey just has this really big comforting aura that surrounds him. it's easy to be persuaded by those calm and sweet words into taking it easy when feeling upset or frustrated.

like its hard to stay in a bad mood around him because his energy is just so kind?? and inviting?? he has such a way with words and talking to you.

cater diamond

receiving: words of affirmation

he genuinely does hold onto ever compliment or praise you give him; it may be hard to tell from your end because he would answer it with a "aw thanks~♫" but trust me he'll think about it throughout the day. you make him feel a little more seen when complimenting stuff he's actually interested in and good at.

cater loves it when you play with his hair and put it up in different cute styles or put clips and bands in it- then tell him he looks pretty boy does he love that.

when his club isnt eating and hanging out he really likes it when you come and watch him play!! he'll shamelessly ask for compliments like "i was soo good wasn't i?" trying to be lighthearted about it but hes desperate for any sweet words from you.

giving: physical affection

he can't help but be affectionate. i mean even with friends he is, so with his you?? cater is all over you. he always is holding onto you or touching you on the arm or something whenever you're getting a picture taken with him, he loves practically smushing you up against him.

cater likes to pinch your cheeks playfully, he'll coo and give a cheeky grin telling you you're cute, he'll laugh and lay on your shoulder if he's tired in class, he'll poke your side to try to get you to laugh, he'll play with your hair, he adores affection.

clearly, he isn't afraid of pda, i mean everyone and their mother knows you're together, its painfully obvious by the way he acts around and with you.

like you could be doing literally nothing and he's scrolling on magicam on his phone, and he'll still have his hand on you in some sort of way.

ace trappola

receiving: physical touch

when he started to catch feelings for you was when he realized just how much he was a sucker for any affection. whenever you'd laugh and put a hand on his shoulder or even playfully punched his arm. so, once you to officially got together he just wanted more. even though he's not like the most- gooey over the top with public affection, he loves it when you do something small and playful like swing his arm when you're holding hands.

whenever he gets tired and wants to doze off in class and lays on the table in front of him and you rub his back, he loves a lot from you. or when you're bored with him and take his hand in yours and drawing random doodles on it. he does the same thing to yours as well.

he likes hugs, they're short sometimes but he squeezes you a bit and rocks you side to side in a playful manner. he also subconsciously stands closer to you; he likes it when you're near him where your arms are lightly touching and brushing against his.

giving: gifts

okay hear me out on the gifts, but i think he'd unintentionally and intentionally gift you little things all the time. i mean he's not exactly rich level status like idia or kalim but if he's getting a s snack or drink from the vending machine, he'll get something you like too (im sorry but he sometimes will quicky say "catch!" and then proceed to chuck a chocolate bar at you) you'll end up hearing a whine and complaint from grim though because he wants something too.

if he ever goes out somewhere and visits another place, he'll get you some sort of trinket like a keychain from there. he never tries to make it seem like he went out of his way to do something like that, he'll just be like "ehh thought this was cool but i don't really want it, you can have it." that said item is something that you would totally want.

he does like to win you those prizes whenever you guys are out at an amusement park or fair. though he seems confident about it and claims those games are too easy, after his 50th try he gets the plushie for you. he's too stubborn to quit those anyway.

deuce spade

receiving: words of affirmation

he loves it when you acknowledge and tell him he's good at something or looks good today. he pretty much hangs off of every word you say, so it's important to him. he doesn't ask for it like cater or anything, but he really wants them from you.

like whenever he gets awarded for his efforts on the track team and you tell him something as simple as a "nice job!" can mean a lot to him he really does want to make you proud of him and his accomplishments especially since he's trying to do and be better at school even though its challenging. now despite him favoring this whenever he does get complimented, he always gets all bashful, its sweet though.

he tends to feel elated for the whole day after something small youve said to him. he gets a sense of pride in himself and feels proud as he goes about his day. he can't even be upset about painting the roses for the next unbirthday party or studying extra hard for a test because he knows you'll tell him he did well.

giving: acts of service

he wants to be the best boyfriend for you because you deserve the best. so, he's always trying to go out of his way to do things for you and be of some help. he not only likes but wants to be someone you think about first when needing help with anything.

even just small things throughout the day like carrying your bags if you got something from sam's shop, opening doors for you, fixing things, and even though he isn't the most academically inclined he'll attempt and try his absolute best to help you with homework you're struggling with even if it ends with both of you confused. he just actively goes out his way to do things for you.

ace always teases him for what he does for you all the time, but he doesn't even really feel like what he's doing is enough. ace only laughs at him and tells him he stupid and overthinks it completely. but deuce just aspires to always be better, so he has trouble not.

he has definitely at some point called his mom and asked her what to do when it comes to what your partners want and would like and just mentally took notes of what she said and does it x10.

[derangedanomaly]

Wait since we're asking about kinks now- what are all of the guys and the stars kinks? Do they have any lol? I'm genuinely curious

*rubs my hands together* This one's gonna be a ride. 😈🙏🏻

Nah- without jokes now lol. I need to cleanse myself after this lmao. DON'T READ IF YOU DON'T LIKE ANYTHING REGARDING SEX.

TW: NSFW CONTENT, READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!

Chaos

I can imagine Chaos being a family kinda guy. Like, family probably means A LOT to him, so I can definitely see Chaos having a breeding kink. Something about his partner's belly being full, because he got them pregnant does a lot of things to him.

Chaos is never the type that chases for his own pleasure, I really think that he'd prioritize what you want, when it comes to having fun in the sheets. So I can see him doing fingering/blow job to his partner. He's the type of guy that loves to praise the shit out of you, but also playfully kinda degrade you. Like- he'd probably say something like, "Oh...your doing such a good job for me...what do you think would happen if the others found you drooling all over my cock? What would they think of you?" Followed by, "....Would you like to find out?"

Since Chaos is into having a family, I can see him also having a daddy kink. And along with this all, I can for some reason, also see him being into Katoptronphilia, which is a fascination with mirrors, or more specifically, watching yourself in a sexual situation. So I think that Chaos would make you watch yourself in the mirror, while fucking you from behind.

Nightmare

I've established before that Nightmare's into master kink, just calling him anything that gives him a sense of power is enough to get him hot. (Master, King, Sir,...)

But between all this, I can also see him being into Impact play, this involves hitting or being hit with an object in a safe and consensual way. Nightmare wants to feel that he's always in control. So he'd 100% whip you with a whip or just slap you anyhow. He'd probably also be pretty rough, just to show you that he's the one in control. Speaking of control... Orgasm control is also a thing he'd be SUPER into. But he's a giant asshole too, he'd be SO unfair when he'd use a vibrator or anything else on you. He WON'T let you taste that sweet sweet release at all. The only thing I'll say...is dirty talk. And he's really good at it too.. He could probably make you come just from his words alone.

Ace

Ace is pretty much a sub. It's pretty easy to drive him into submission, because he doesn't NEED to be the dominant one in a relationship. He's just happy he even has a partner to be honest. But I can see Ace being a sadist. Just you hurting him anyhow drives him nuts probably. Because he's the stronger one, he's the one that holds more power than you, so the feeling of you actually landing a hit on him has him weak.

Cuckolding is also a thing that he IMMENSLY gets off of. This a kink or a fetish is the act of being turned on by watching your partner get it on with someone else. He feels a little guilty about actually liking this, but he can't deny it.

Blade

Is anyone really surprised when I say that Blade's into knife play? Blade enjoys the thought of running his sharp, bloody knife along the curves of your glistening body. He also pretty much gets off of seeing you covered in blood. Really anything that's connected with blood or knives, he likes it. I do not recommend telling him that you're on your period. He'd eat you out if you did. Never probably stopping until you'd pass out. Even if someone would barge into the room, he WOULDN'T stop. Not at all.

Blade also degrades you VERY MUCH, he LOVES to tell you stuff that makes you embarrassed while he's pumping you from behind. He's also into Voyeurism, which is the sexual interest in or practice of watching other people engaged in intimate behaviors, such as undressing, sexual activity, or other actions of a private nature. He 100% hides somewhere in your room just to watch you get undressed. The thought of you not knowing he's there only makes him more and more hot.

Ted

Ted promised himself that he'd never engage in sexual intercourse ever again after the accident where he lost his virginity, so you would have to build a LOT of trust with him for him to do that with you. He's like- "Sex...?....Ew....."

But I can see Ted being very careful with you, treating you almost as if you were made from glass. After all, the last time he did go....rough.... VERY rough... he killed the woman. Shockingly. And he cares about you, he doesn't want to kill you with his ginormous size. :(

I think that Ted's the type of person to be VERY gentle and kind when having sex. As for the kinks, I don't really think he cares that much when it comes to it, because he'd do anything you ask him to do, except for the things that would hurt you in any way. He truly does NOT want to hurt you.

NOTE: I wanted to write the Star Sanses too- but It was SO much that I lost motivation to write any more. I'm so sorry!

[key201303]

Pairing: Woosung x reader. Word count: 1157 words Warnings: Just a bunch of fluff and love Plot: Woosung asks you to marry him. A/N: I'm so in love with this concept and I really see him doing something like this with his S/O. We stan a king 💕 Hope you enjoy reading this little scenario 💕 P. S. Dojoon was the one giving me this idea when he mentioned he saw Woosung asking his gf to marry him with a sour candy ring as a joke Taglist -> let me know if you want to be added! VALENTINE'S DAY X THE ROSE

It was a normal day in the office. Hajoon was practicing some beats, Jaehyeong was eating some snacks while playing on his phone, Woosung was in his studio playing with some melodies that have been clouding his mind lately and Dojoon was Dojooning as always.

You were surprised how calmed the building was but it was always like that once the tour was over. The only difference was the way Woosung had been treating you lately. And it is that after dating someone for almost 10 years should be a reason enough to get tired of the relationship or feel it a bit monotonous but in fact your relationship with Woosung was far away from that. You were not complaining at all but you had to admit you were surprised that Woosung has been treating you in a very lovely and a very clingy way lately.

He has always been very goofy with you but he was more lately. He has always been very territorial with you, not wanting anybody to have any opportunity to steal you from him, but he has been more lately. He would even ask you to sit on his lap whenever you were with the rest of the members or with friends, stating that he just wanted to be close to you.

You’ve tried asking him if there was something that made him act like that but he just said that it was because of the tour and not having enough quality time with you because of the tight schedules. Little did you know what he had in mind.

You exited the convenience store with a bag full of food to eat lunch with Woosung, just like you promised you would do once the tour was over. You decided to get some extra food to share with the rest of the boys even though Woosung told you that he wouldn’t let anybody interrupt your little date.

Once you arrived, you both went straight to the small terrace the building had. The same terrace where you took one of your favorite pictures that perfectly showed the personalities of your boyfriend and one of your best friends. The same terrace where you took that picture of him and Dojoon in underwear before a shooting while Woosung smoked. You were so in love with that picture for some reason.

“I have a few surprises for you today.” He said as you both ate in peace. You widened your eyes. “It’s not my birthday yet.” You said laughing. “What? Can’t I give the woman of my life a surprise without any specific reason?” He playfully said, placing a big kiss on your cheek making you blush. “It’s amazing how after 10 years I still make you blush with just a kiss.” He admired you, placing another big kiss on your cheek, this time harder. “What’s wrong with you?” You said, laughing uncontrollably and cringing a bit at his sudden behavior. “I just love you so much.” He said, a wide smile decorating his cherry lips. They looked so tempting. So sweet. You were about to get a taste of them and drown that smile in a deep kiss when he removed his face from you, turning to take a small box from his pocket. “Open it.” He said as he continued to finish his noodles.

When you opened the box, a sour candy ring popped out. You looked at him in confusion, not understanding what was going on. “Marry me?” He said, mouth full of the last bite of his noodles. You couldn’t believe he was asking you such a question in the least romantic way and with the least romantic ring. “You gotta be kidding me.” You said, a serious tone appearing in your voice, disappointment written all over your face. You’ve always dreamt about how he would ask you to be his wife but this was definitely not in the list of scenarios you imagined. He let out a soft laugh. “Meet me downstairs then.” He said, leaving you alone with your sour candy ring.

You ran behind him, not understanding what was going on. And then you finally found the room where everything was settled for a proper proposal. “Is this more of what you imagined?” He said with a cheeky smile, full of satisfaction for teasing you back on the terrace with that candy. “Fuck you Kim Woosung.” You said, tears already forming in the corner of your eyes as you hit his chest and covered your face. “Sure Mrs. Kim (Y/N).” He said, taking you into his arms, a massive smile decorating his face. Hearing him call you with his last name made your heart skip a beat. “I guess we’ll go to the first band wedding then.” Dojoon teased. “Actually I haven’t even asked her properly yet.” Woosung said, releasing his embrace from you. He signed for you to wait a moment and stand in front of him while clearing his throat before he started his little speech. “After 10 years, we managed to support each other and deal with each other’s annoying selves.” He teased, gaining a drown in tears laugh from you. At this point you didn’t care anymore if you were ugly crying in front of everyone. You didn’t care if he teased you about it afterwards because that was the boy you fell in love with 10 years ago. “We’ve shared cigarettes, alcohol bottles, hangovers, beds, foods, drinks, sickness and even DNA when we kiss…” He continued, making you laugh at the memory of all the things he mentioned. “You didn’t need to be that specific…” Jaehyeong quietly said disgustedly at that last statement. But Woosung ignored him. “And now, you would make me so happy and proud if you accept sharing our life until death do us apart.” He said, finally revealing a beautiful ring with a few rubies on it. You were amazed by its beauty.

“So? Would you marry me?” He asked, waiting impatiently for your answer. “Of course yes.” You said, throwing yourself into his arms. “You didn’t look this convinced when I asked you out there.” He said hugging you tightly, a massive smile drawn in his face. “That was not a proposal.” You said, letting go of him and staring with a death glare. “You at least gotta admit it was original.” He said proud of his first attempt. “Can you just put the ring on her finger and kiss?” Hajoon said impatiently, making everyone laugh.

And just like that Woosung was ready to give everything he had to take care of you. To show you he is the husband you always knew he was. And you were ready to show him you were made to be with him ever since you both met. Now another 10, 20, 30, 40, 1000000 years wait for both of you. Just like Woosung said, until death do you apart and even more.

[this-is-fox-speaking]

FANTOCCIO FACTS POST (from screenshots i found in my own interests server)

- His name is italian for puppet, but he pronounces it incorrectly and insists it’s the correct way to say his name if anyone else points it out and says he’s wrong.

- He’s not from Italy, obviously. Goes to show. But Ash imagines he knows a bit of italian. (“Not enough Italian to say his name right.” - Katie.)

- Fantoccio has a pet shark named Sharkspeare! Mentioned in the song at the line “‘Cause Sharkspeare’s looking mean!”

- Fantoccio has to make all his own props, set pieces, clothes, etc in the theatre.

- Would never smoke, and would hate being around it/people who’re doing it actively.

- Fantoccio was made by Ash as a fan OC for the game, and this (as far as I’m aware) is what got them hired onto the game, cause Katie loved their ideas so much.

- Fantoccio is not very good with kids.

- Fantoccio’s favorite food is churros. This came from the fact Ash once had a dream about him infodumping about them cause he loved them so much, so they made it canon.

- Don’t worry, he can indeed taste things normally. No traditional taste buds, but some, nonetheless. Same goes for touch!

- Fantoccio is canonically autistic, having many traits of himself heavily projected from Ash, themself.

- When asked what his meltdown triggers could be, Ash thought that some might be: too much touching, being without his hat, or one of his props breaking.

- Fantoccio likes wearing dresses! Wears them if he feels like it or if the role calls for it, during a play.

- Ash thinks he’d ADORE snow.

- Fantoccio would 100% love spicy italian from subway.

- Fantoccio plays violin!

- Fantoccio would chant “I’m sleeping” when struggling to fall asleep, like his own version of counting sheep.

- He would NEVER say the Earth is flat.

- He’d be the “How do you do that” of that one keysmash meme, if paired with Barnaby.

- Ash once said that Fantoccio is like Duck from Don’t Hug Me I’m Scared.

- When doing a personality type test (and actually answering truthfully instead of in character) for Fantoccio, he ended up with ENTJ-T, Commander. Fanto would answer untruthfully on some questions, like if he ever gets insecure (“PFFFT NO THE ANSWERS NO”).

- He can go uwu in the bbu lore, but he’ll hate it. (“THIS IS STUPID!!!”)

- Fantoccio would apparently be a “mac and cheese FIEND.”

- He’d hate pranks (specifically a hand zapper in this case), because they’re unexpected. (“NEVER DO THAT AGAIN”)

- This also means he’d never troll anyone, cause he feels above that.

- Fanto would HATE hearing people crack their knuckles, like Ash does.

- Fantoccio loves to carve wood. Specifically only by hand, that’s how much he loves it! He carved the two giant wooden hands used in his battle, but his favorite thing to carve is ducks.

- Fantoccio is very intent on ONLY eating the few foods he knows he likes.

- If he were an ice cream, he’d be coffee flavor! Which is ironic, because Ash has also said that it’d probably be terrible to give Fantoccio caffeine.

- Fantoccio would LOVE chicken nuggets.

- Hates pizza, though. Too greasy and messy.

- Would enjoy having an ipad “a little too much. He would be super confused at first but once he learns how to use it DO NOT TAKE IT AWAY”. (kinda like Peridot from Steven Universe)

- He would like spruce wood in Minecraft, but also acacia “just to look at.”

- Ash adores pirates, so so does Fantoccio!

- He has no nose, so no sneezes!

- Appreciates detail as much as Barnaby does.

- Fanto would love birds!

- Fanto is not capable of curse words. Sad.

- Fantoccio would COLLAPSE trying to lift someone without his powers.

- He stims by patting his face and spinning around. Fidgets with his hands in concepts for his standing idle animations, because he’s uncomfortable with standing and prefers floating.

- He’d favor Murder Mystery!

- His wood is alive and can grow like a real boy! (if you’ve seen my post being reblogged around, lol)

- He lives in the lost city of magic, which is abandoned and overrun my magical zombies who used to be magic users, now with a terrible curse. So he lives mainly in his theatre. He’s not trapped, anymore, like his old story!

- Fantoccio’s powers are based around telekinesis and teleportation. It’s how he moves his body around!

- He used to have a plush toy rabbit he carried around, when he was younger, seemingly. It’s unclear where that went, when he got older.

- Fantoccio’s been locked up in this city for 15 years, since he was 8. Completely isolated (save for those zombies, I suppose)! When Billie comes along, though, he’s so excited to have something new to play with!

- Fanto’s song is inspired by Weird Al. Like 90% of this game is, of course /lh. He was also inspired by the pied piper!

- He’d dislike the idea of seafood. (“He’d be like “Why would anyone want to eat a fish?!” And cover Sharkspeare’s nonexistent ears like “Don’t listen to them!””)

- The red feather in his hat is also used as a pen!

- Fantoccio is a being of pure magic, having an entire magic gem be his whole life source. This means he can use magic endlessly without getting tired (I believe)!

- Fantoccio is 23, he/him, and pansexual.

- His face is made using magic. It disappears when/if he’s magic-less.

- Fantoccio can absolutely feel pain.

- When it comes to nature, Ash said he’d kinda be like Rarity from MLP:FiM, but certain kinds of nature he’d still really love. He’d really dislike walking through the wild or camping in general, but loves things like snow or flower fields. Just depends!

- Fantoccio would main Bowser in Mario Kart.

-In terms of favorite Halloween treats, Fantoccio would like anything chewy and fruity (no chocolate)!

- Canonically wears eyeliner.

- Magic sparks from his fingertips when he’s very excited!

- If Fantoccio was an animal, Ash says he’d be a cat.

- No traditional gross human stuff inside him like others, just wood and sap. “Whatever trees do.”

- His original concept by Ash was him having a purple phantom head, being a ghost in a puppet’s body. This was changed by Katie, I believe.

(feel free to add on if I missed anything! i’ll edit this post if i randomly remember something)

[am-i-interrupting]

How Autism Effects Them

For Me. Hi, I’m autistic and I write these specific characters with autism in mind. Here’s how it effects my writing of them.

Alastor

Alastor is a sensory avoidant autistic with the PDA profile.

He avoids touch unless specifically initiated by him or someone he trusts.

He cannot stand any type of soft touch and is much more receptive to strong grips.

Part of the reason he employed Niffty is because of her obsessive cleaning and his need for things to be orderly but lack of willpower or energy to clean.

He has a specific way of organizing things and Niffty quickly caught on and adopted those same values.

He avoids going certain places due to sounds which may occur. Specifically retaining to music.

He enjoys Jazz, swing, classical, and blues. That is it.

Being sensory avoidant, does not mean, however, that he never seeks sensory stimulation. It is just something he does not do often.

One of the biggest ways he seeks some sort of new experience, sensory or emotion wise, is actually through his planned chaos like with the Hotel. A situation he has some control over and sway in how it goes.

The main stimulation he will look for is the feeling of blood between his teeth and fingers or the best of his favorite songs. Though, he also enjoys the smells and tastes of various spices.

(Personally, I am of the belief that dancing is a stim that he participates in because it’s socially acceptable.)

He is very in touch with his needs and what his body communicates to him even if he doesn’t always have words to describe them.

The PDA profile of autism is known as Pathological Demand Avoidance or, preferred by many PDA-era, Persistent Drive for Autonomy. This often shows up as feeling like anything perceived as a demand is a threat and reacting accordingly.

This results in despite him knowing what his body needs, he refuses to give in to it.

How dare his body tell him to sleep, he is in the middle of very important things that he does not want to stop doing and will stay up even longer to spite his body.

How dare Charlie and Vaggie insist he use video when his radio station is perfectly available, he will mess it up out of spite.

His special interests are actually radio and body anatomy. This fueled both his career choices.

Lucifer

Lucifer is a depressed, anxiety ridden AuDHD king.

He hyperfixates on his projects and forgets to eat, drink, even go to the bathroom.

He struggles with keeping relationships.

You send him a message, he forgets to reply, remembers to reply two weeks later, spends another week debating whether or not it’s too late to reply before finally replying or just starting a new conversation.

He is easily overwhelmed in social situations and cannot maintain multiple conversations at once.

He will fixate on one person and only reply to them.

Just barges in on conversations and chimes in when initiated at inappropriate times.

He bounces between needing complete silence, a specific noise, or an amount of noise that would overwhelm others constantly.

Vaggie

Vaggie is an autistic who has alexthymia.

She’s very monotoned and doesn’t know how to express her emotions because frankly, she doesn’t always know what they are.

It’s like there’s some disconnect between her thoughts and her body.

She’s not very good at articulating what she feels or connecting what her body is experiencing to her emotions.

She actually has a journal filled with bodily descriptions and how they connect to what she thinks she should be feeling. It helps her describe them to you better.

She doesn’t just have a disconnect with her feelings but her body as a whole.

She does not process things that should be painful as painful.

Her brain doesn’t always compute what signals her body is giving her so she can often forget to eat, drink, go to the bathroom, sleep.

She has certain rituals she does in order to try to connect better with her body and understand what it needs.

Every morning while she’s getting ready, she needs complete silence so she can connect.

She goes through the motions of brushing her hair and takes note of how it feels before and after. She does the same with brushing her teeth.

A couple times every day, she just has to stop everything, find a quiet place, and try to understand what her body is telling her.

Vox

Vox has the PDA profile of autism, is sensory seeking, and has OCD-like tendencies.

See Alastor, point 13 for definition of PDA.

His PDA comes up in a much more controlling way than Alastor’s. Or at least obviously controlling.

He needs everything to go a specific way and gets very disregulated when it doesn’t.

I feel like this also makes his RSD (rejection sensitivity dysphoria) worse.

Not only does he have the disappointment and feeling of failure when he is rejected or dismissed but he also has the emotional disregulation of his PDA which makes him feel like he’s been threatened and in danger to deal with on top of this.

His PDA often results in his use of manipulation and hypnosis over the general populace to ensure a favorable outcome for him.

If he is told to do something and there’s no way out of doing it, he will coerce the situation into something that at least feels like he has control over it.

However, if he does have a way out of it. He simply won’t do it or will purposefully do it wrong.

If you ask him to do something that he was already doing, he will walk away and come back to do it later when you’re gone.

His sensory seeking behavior is often like how we were introduced to him, plugging himself into his systems and being bombarded with the sounds of people.

He does this to regulate.

It’s cathartic to him in the same way blasting loud music when you’re upset is.

His main source of stimulation is through noise and sight.

He finds things like bright lights a calming thing as well.

He is a bit sensory avoidant though but it shows up very differently to Alastor’s.

It shows up in the form of constant cleanliness, yes, but Alastor finds cleanliness soft, unstained rugs and polished wooden desks whereas Vox finds it in a much more modern style.

Counters that don’t have a single finger print on them. Floors that are tile and shining, always looking freshly waxed.

Alastor’s version of clean is warm and homely. Vox’s version of clean is cold and slick.

This also plays into his OCD-like tendencies.

For Alastor it’s an annoyance when these things get out of place. For Vox it’ll ruin his entire day and he has to rearrange his schedule in order to fix it.

Another sensory experience he avoids would be strong smells. He cannot cope with them as they overwhelm him, along with taste.

His part of the tower is very pristine and actually very cold temperature wise not only because he enjoys colder temperatures but they also prevent him from overheating when he’s upset or just feeling strong emotions.

Going to the other parts of the tower are not something he enjoys.

Velvette’s normally smells of strong perfumes and Valentino’s smells of a combination of perfume and sex.

[34saveme34]

SMG3's search history - what could it be???

my mind isn't the best rn (I'm sick) but this once again on my mind

And I think it's a bit trickier than we think but I'll try my best to list the possibilities

some important things to note about his search history:

Luigi liked whatever he was looking at

4 understood it faster than Mario. note the "What, I don't get it-"

emotional reactions 3 tends to have certain things (will get into it more)

the fact that he only really acknowledged 4 when he went back with the memory wiper

Mario commenting "what the hell was that search history" I hate you, Mario, you could've said something more interesting about it, that could give something away off of it.

So yeah, these were the things I wanted to point out

since Luigi liked whatever he was looking at, and we know this man likes men the most, especially big men, I think we can easily assume it was something gay. I'm sorry Jenny SlipperyT truthers, besides not like there isn't any gay mc porn so, still a chance

HOWEVER

something really important I want to point right back at "What, I don't get it-" Mario's comment is very specific here. If it was like raunchy ass hardcore gay porn, he wouldn't say that. He would've screamed immediately, being freaked out. So it's something REALLY weird that isn't immediately obvious. However 4 and Meggy knew way faster which gives away that maybe whatever 3 was looking at they were more familiar with.

Now, there's quite a few things that people in this show we've seen freaking out over. One being especially true is fanfiction, but

and here comes in my 3's preference thing- he didn't seem to like that stuff either, not even for a single second

However may I present to you..... something that might blow your mind...... something you maybe didn't think of

THIS episode

and actually the part that the thumbnail shows

when they are looking at the cakes

you might be like "But, dude, he is also flabbergasted about it?"

Really?

this ALWAYS struck me as odd

right after seeing that stuff, Mario is understandably under trauma while 3 immediately goes into planning to make cakes like that of himself

and Mario's reaction makes it feel like 3 wants to make them like the last ones, like yes you can interpret it in a different way, but my way of seeing it is also just as valid

aka the idea that 3 likes some weird ass shit, perhaps sometimes things that might not come off as sexual at first, or even cursed in some sense.

Now... the point you are waiting for me to address. The fact that he only really focused on 4. That gives me gay vibes, Idk how else to look at it. The idea that he was mainly scared of 4 seeing his search history doesn't help either. It only makes him look more gay. Like Mario and Meggy were literally right there, he could've said "Hi guys" he didn't have any noticable reason to only address 4. So what makes sense? That his search query had to do with 4 in some way. No other way to go about it. There's a thin sliver of chance that he only addressed 4 because he did search this weird shit on his computer and not anyone else's. But I don't think that's enough ground to make it more valid than it being connected to 4. Like, this reminds me of someone denying 4's queerness saying that the line "what will you do when you bring over a girl and/or boy?" as boy relates to the homies in a platonic way, as if, dude, keep being homophobic.

so what do we know?

it's gay

it isn't immediately noticable that it might be sexual in nature

it connects to 4 heavily

Now I present to you...... The combination of wonderbread and smg4

the wonderbread kind of fetish thing when you don't immediately realise there's a fetish going on, which fits well with 3's rather interesting taste

which might for example suggest perhaps characters that look similar to 4 in specific situation, it can go many ways but it has to be gay, considering Luigi's reaction, canonically said he is scared of women (in SMG4's search history)!

so yes what I'm saying is that 3 has some sort of weird fetish regarding 4 that definitely looks gay, he would definitely want to hide something like with his life after all

Although I still find it weird how comfortable 3 was to search that stuff at 4's computer

also might I point to also the fact he APPARENTLY has his credit card linked to 4's pc as well, as revealed during the 2023 wotfi prep stream??? he is AWFULLY comfortable at 4's pc

I don't know why he would that, like... he isn't actually stupid, were his feelings making him this stupid? Was he getting some kind of sick pleasure out of doing it at 4's room? We may never know, considering how stubborn 3 is and also a big damn liar