#inside thoughts needed to be outside thoughts

[miirohs]

nothing on me but you [l.d.n]

pairing: Mob Boss!Lando Norris x Assistant!Reader wc: 1.0k cw: slight dubcon (they kiss while reader is under influence and without permission), possessive behavior, he is a red flag lowkey? an: and when the world needed her most, she came back (after crying for 2 weeks straight and slapping herself to pull it together)... chat i didn't cook with this one pls dont flop.

You could feel people's eyes on you even as you left the hall, talking quietly among themselves as you clung on tighter to Landos arm, almost trying to make yourself invisible.

You could hear their still hear their sighs of pity, following you out the building.

You knew exactly what they were whispering were about.

It wasn’t a secret that Lando was a playboy, and now everyone assumed you were just another one of the bodies in his count. You were madly in love with him, and yet you couldn’t bring yourself to face the fact that you were just another thing he would claim, sooner or later.

As the cold wave of realization and sadness washed over you, you let go of your grasp around his shoulders, gently prying his hands off you as you stood still. You hadn’t drunk enough to be able to forget a whole car ride home.

“Sir, this doesn’t look right, I think you should just let me go home by myself.” You mumbled, head hanging in shame as he turned back to you. The alcohol wasn’t wearing off quick enough.

“Leave you alone? Drunk?” He said, tone incredulous as you looked at him. 

“Mmmh, I could just call an uber…?” You trailed off, noticing the look of annoyance on his face. He rarely hid anything from you, especially not his displeasement.

“An uber? I don’t think it would be very wise of me to leave you alone like that, I'm surprised you could even suggest such a thing while I'm still here.” He said sternly, reaching out to grab your hand firmly. “C’mon, you’re in no state to leave on your own baby.”

His car was parked at the corner, lavish from the outside and especially on the inside as you slid in, letting go of his hand as he shut the door with a smile.

The car ride was met with a charged silence, comfortably settled between you. You could see the city lights from your window, beating brightly in the distance. You kept stealing glances at him every now and then, watching as the light from the streets passed over his eyes, jewelry glinting softly. His hand gripped the wheel as he drove, humming something softly. The song playing softly in the background seemed to tune out as his hand intertwined into yours. 

It was just too calm. You just couldn’t bear the silence any longer.

“Sir, i just wanna ask-”

“Lan.”

You paused, taken aback by the sudden interruption.

“I’m sorry?”

“Start calling me Lan again. I miss it.” 

You hadn’t called him that in ages, not since the days of your early and very short friendship. You wondered what could’ve brought it up, but you were in no place to say no.

For a moment, you wondered if he felt the same.

“Sir- I mean Lan, what are you doing this for?”

“So what, I can’t do nice things for you?” He chuckled, cringing slightly as the edge in his voice betrayed him. His hand slipped away from yours and you wanted to grab it back, but shame kept you from doing so.

“Well, i just assumed that you just wanted to-” He turned towards you, eyes dark as he looked you up and down.

“Assumed that I was doing this just because I wanted you in my bed? Have you been listening to what all those worthless people whisper about you and me then?” He tsked, clearly peeved by the things coming out of your mouth.

“Isn’t that what you did for all the other ones too? I’m just one of many-” His grip on the wheel tightened, knuckles turning white.

“Who said that you were one of all those other ones, baby?” 

His words cut through the ache in your heart like a knife. You almost couldn’t breathe, thoughts filling your head at what he’d just said.

"Baby, who said that you were one of all those other ones?" he repeated softly, his voice gentle in comparison to the deadly smile on his face. 

You swallowed hard, finding it hard to think under his intense glare. “I- I don’t know. I just thought that maybe we’d be better off parting ways because clearly people don’t-”

“You’re such a liar baby, you know that?”

“What?” Your heart dropped.

You hadn’t realized you had reached his sprawling mansion, the lights coming alive as you came to a sharp stop at his doorstep.

He hadn’t unlocked the door handles either, turning off the ignition and then turning to you.

“Such a liar, baby.” There was warmth in the laughs he let out, yet his expression was unreadable as his hand gently cupped the back of your neck, bringing your face closer to his.

“I’ve seen the way you look at me. Can you imagine how mad it made me up to see you look at other people like that?” He hissed, lips almost up against yours.

You whined as he moved away, smirking at your state.

You wanted him desperately, and he knew. “Can’t you see that I want you? And don’t lie, I know you want me too. Don’t think I haven't seen the way you’ve looked at me.” He cooed, leaning into you.

You faltered, unable to form a coherent response as Lando’s hand moved to your cheek, his touch comforting and suffocating at the same time.

“I want y-“

But before you could utter another word, he pulled you in, pressing his lips firmly against yours. He gnawed at your bottom lip, slipping his tongue into your mouth, the aftertaste of champagne overpowering it all.

You broke from it, inhaling deeply before he pulled you in once more, relentless in the way he greedily devoured the air from you. His grip on your nape had loosely returned, thumb running up and down the back of your neck before his hand slowly ran down the backless dress.

You pushed him away again, softer this time as you choked on the sudden intake of air.

His head ran up and down your back, eventually wrapping around your waist to bring you closer to him.

“I want nothing on me but you, have I made that clear? I love you.” He whispered, pressing his forehead to yours.

“Lando.”

“Say it back, please.” He begged, a slightly pout forming in his face.

“I love you too, Lan.”

[jongseongsnudes]

just the tip

brother’sbestfriend/jock!jake. 1.3k words. ✨smut✨

“can i put it in?”

“but- the guys?”

“they won’t know,” he says, the ends of his lips curving into a smirk at you frantically looking back and forth. he knows damn well that he has you right where he wants you to be, trapped in by his body, with no where to go. “come on baby, just the tip.”

it’s not like you’d ever say no to jake, especially when he’s all dressed up in his jersey with hair slightly tussled from the rough practice. he knows damn well this look on him is one of your absolute weaknesses but to combine that with the way he’s currently staring down at you? with his hooded, dreamy pair of eyes?

it’s pretty much game over for you and your weak ass.

if it was somewhere else, you would’ve been on your knees all in two seconds, ready to suck and please him however the hell he wanted. but right now was not the time, hiding in the back of the locker-room while the entire football team was practicing right outside. and their team captain? just happens to be your older way-over-the-top protective brother, park jongseong.

and if he happens to find out that you’re fucking around with his best friend...

you don’t want to even think that far.

“it’s your fault. coming to practice in such a cute dress, looking all damn pretty,” he leans in to kiss your cheek as he whispers, his voice low and fucking hot, “fuck baby i’m so hard.”

he pushes forward, trapping your body in against the locker with his own while his hands are already at your waist. you want to resist so bad, to push him back but his lips brushing past the tip of your ear destroys the mere thought.

fuck it. you’re too weak for this.

“i hate you sim.”

your words has the man smirking again, knowing well that he had won. yet again.

“oh do you?” he’s teasing you and damn was it working out in his favour, clearly with how wet you’re already getting. “how about you tell me how much you hate me while i do this-”

he spins you around and pushes you flat against the locker in a quick move, the man immediately attaching himself to your back. and true to his words, jake was indeed hard and seemingly ready to burst inside his shorts from what you can feel poking at your lower back.

with his lips already marking the side of your neck, one of his hands feels its way under your dress and right to its goal. your panties. his touch sends a shiver down your spine, his fingertips are so cold but so weirdly familiar on your skin. like they belonged there on your curves.

“i hate you...” your voice becomes almost inaudible when he pulls your panties to the side, allowing a cool breeze to hit your core, “h-hate- hate that you do this to me...”

“yeah baby? and what do i do to you exactly?” you could practically hear his smirk, cockiness dripping from his each one of his words.

he’s just so good at what he does, no matter where or when. he just needs to look at you a certain way, speak to you in a certain tone and you’re a goner.

“don’t be such a shit- ahh-” your sentence becomes a pathetic moan when you suddenly feel him at your core, his hot tip rubbing teasingly against your wetness. this alone was enough to have your knees buckle forward, your body already screaming for more.

“you say you hate me but your body says otherwise baby, you’re practically dripping for me.”

“s- shut up sim.”

he places kisses from the tip of your ear to your jaw, leaving behind a trail that you pray will not appear by tomorrow. the last thing you want is to be questioned about it by anyone, ESPECIALLY park jongseong.

“you know, some of the guys were saying how pretty you looked today,” jake bites down onto your shoulders as he says so, his lips sucking harshly at one spot in particular as if wanting to purposely leave behind a mark, “they can drool all they want because only i get to do this.”

words are no longer a thing for you when he finally enters you, your walls immediately tightening around his thick tip, eager to feel more. but to your surprise he doesn’t push forward like he usually would, the man staying in that position with just the tip inside of you.

you know that this was the plan to begin with but you were quickly becoming frustrated, annoyed at the feeling of barely being filled. barely satisfied.

you take the chance to back up a little in a subtle attempt to get him deeper but the man quickly holds you in place by the waist.

“don’t do that,” he laughs, followed a low growl you’ve heard so many times before, especially whenever he’s horny, “you make it hard to stick to the plan baby.”

“jake...”

“fuck baby... i want you so bad.”

as if right on cue, both of you freeze to the sound of footsteps, followed by your dear brother’s loud voice coming from outside. jake immediately pulls out and without a word, ushers you into an opened locker.

“jake fucking sim! are you fucking slacking off again?!”

you had barely closed the door before jay appears, luckily just missing him by a millisecond.

“what the fuck are you doing in here!” your brother’s voice echoes through the room, anger coating his loud tone. but then again, when isn’t park jongseong angry???

“i needed to rest,” you hear jake fake a sigh like the absolutely great actor that he was, “you tackled me so hard before dude, i almost lost a leg!”

although the room goes silent, you know jay is rolling his eyes at his dramatic best friend. you can practically hear it.

“whatever. get your ass out there on the field before i break the other leg too.”

then the man is gone, leaving jake to finally come help you out of the tiny locker.

“hurry and go out to practice before jay comes back,” you try to walk around him but the man quickly grabs you by the waist, “jake!”

“but i’m so hard.”

of course he is but to be fair, you were feeling just as horny. especially after being interrupted so abruptly. you’re just thankful your panties were there to hold back any of your juices from actually dripping down your thighs at this point.

“you’re going to get us both killed one day i swear sim.”

“honestly worth it if it’s for your pussy though,” he says so nonchalantly and although his words does make you flustered, you can’t help but internally scream at jake being this way. and for you.

“come over after practice?”

“again?” you pretend to be shocked as if you weren’t going to do so already anyway, “i’ve snuck over to the frat house four times this week. what do i get for risking my life?”

“i’ll give you anything you want baby as long as it’s not just the tip.”

end.

[samodivaa]

permeated by jealously

Paring: Bucky x Reader

Summary: In your tight-fitting red dress, you look ravishing for the date with a Russian guy—but the moment you retort to Bucky in Russian, it begs to be ripped from your body.

Warnings: smut, angst, kitchen sex, rough/possessive, unprotected p in v, miscommunication Words: 4k

Bucky's veins are full of the serum, but at this moment, they are full with belladonna tincture, the substance of jealousy. Seeing you with another man, he speaks of Love in the past tense. The scene that plays in front of him—that guy coming to pick you up from the compound, is perfectly adapted to a temporal phenomenon: distinct, abrupt, framed, already a memory. For a split second you stare at each other, you smile at him ruefully. A fleeting, lasting moment for Bucky. Why do you even notice him? Seeing you happy, gives mixed colors to the air of the moment—he is lost in time, sleeping being his only lover.

Bucky wants to kiss you. Instead he puts his lips on the tumbler glass, pretending that it is you. His t-shirt is unbuttoned at the top, and he runs a hand through his hair before he puts the glass down on the kitchen counter—flashes of you in that dress that you wear for your date and the way it lifts your body up from a single look races through his head.

His cock jerks and he shakes his head, grinning as he stares down the bottle of vodka next to his cup.

And, for the first time in his innocent and confined life, he senses in himself a potential for a different corruption that takes his breath away. He doesn’t blame himself. He is a curious, wanting thing—finally, enlightened and free, but also lustful and carnal. But It stabs at him, almost like a physical pain, and he feels both deprived and angry, deprived because Bucky wishes to be with you and angry, because his own choices causes him misery. ----- “It is almost like a reverse nightmare, like when you wake up from a nightmare, you're so relieved. I just wake up into another nightmare."

"And what is that nightmare, Bucky?" He keeps his blue, lusterless eyes fixed on Natasha with a calm but warm and kindly expression in them as he thinks how to say it  "My love life” “Maybe you need to ask her on a date, that’s what Vladimir does”

“Vladimir? Oh , so it is not just 'that one guy' anymore?”  he says in a quiet voice, without a trace of irritation, with a note of the simplest curiosity, his lips quivering as a forced smile comes on to his face. Nat momentarily startles. Then she starts to laugh. “You’re jealous of him?”

He clenches his jaw. “I’m not jealous,” a note of personal affront creeps into his voice “I don’t like his name”  ----- You are on a date, having fun—but anxiety grabs his mind, it is self-perpetuating. Worrisome thoughts reproduce faster than rabbits, he is trying not to lose his balance. Not yet. Especially when the jealousy sets in. 

Bucky is conscious every moment in himself of many, many elements positively swarming in him, ah these, opposite elements. He knows that they have been swarming in him since you started going out with Vladimir and they are craving some outlet from him, but he doesn't let them, would not let them, purposely would not let them come out, because he believes there is nothing so self-destroying, and so despicable, as his jealousy. He tries to appear as a hard shell on the outside when you finally enter the kitchen at 1 am—while there is a runny mess on the inside as he tenses, waiting for you to say something, anything. When you near the sink, your fingers find the curve of the faucet, the metal cool beneath the touch. He turns around to lean against the counter as you pour a cup of cold water. Bucky stares hard at you, watching you take a long drink then he follows the flick of your tongue over your bottom lip. His heart stumbles a beat. He is in such an irritated frame of mind, because of your quietness that in rude and abrupt fashion he blurts out the words:    “You must love that dress”

He takes time persing down the length of your body as you take a step back, watching you press against the counter and then back up before locking on your eyes again. You are not wearing a bra and your nipples harden from having his eyes on you. Red, the front needlessly too scandalous—at least for Bucky. The dipping v lets him see the swelled sides of your breasts pushed up and together. Just to be sure, though, a golden necklace with a teardrop pearl at the end, letting it trail just over your cleavage.

  “I didn’t know that you notice what I am wearing when I go out”

You answer, trying to look as innocent as possible. The vindictive smile that stretches on your ruined lipstick sends shivers down Bucky’s spine—did you make out with the guy, maybe more than that? You look beautiful sitting there looking at him like a she-cat. All he has to do is look at you, and he lusts. He wants to take off that delectable dress and make love to you until you don't have the energy to go out with anyone else ever again.

  “You’ve worn it for the second time. For your date.”

His gaze drops from your eyes, to the swell of your chest. Your chest tightens and you bite your lip to hide the grin wanting to escape. You notice the disgust written on his face and you laugh coldly, gaze never leaving his buff frame. With the certainty that you have well and truly punished him for not asking you on a single date. The angry, feral part of you feels so close to the surface that you can almost scent its blood-clotted fur. You want to lick the scratches you’ve made on him. You want to scratch him until he breaks apart. You gulp down the rest of your water to ease the heat flaming across your skin. Then you lick your lips. His gaze tracks the movement. You think you stopped breathing.

  “His name is Vlad” 

An audacious expression plasters on his face as you sigh in irritation at Bucky, rolling your eyes. Bucky is still leaning against the counter and rests his metal hand on the countertop while sipping vodka from the mug in his other hand. A beautiful yet deadly ornament—vibranium has no business being as hot as it is on him.

A note of personal affront creeps into his voice “Vladimir, mhm”

  “What else have you noticed about me?” your grin becomes a touch leery, innocently cocking your head to the side.

  “Try me” he says softly.

  “Favorite color?” you ask, interrogatively.

  He chuckles “Red”

  “Favorite quote?”

Your brows lift, anticipation making your nerves sing. You are not sure what he is about to say, but you have the feeling that it will be the right one, your heart leaps at the thought.

  “Much unhappiness has come into the world because of bewilderment and things left unsaid”  he answers, this time winking at you  “I know everything about you, sweetheart”   he adds and you feel like smacking that stupid grin off his face.

His mind works well when it comes to his work as an avenger, hovering on hummingbird wings, but when it comes to you, especially when you purposely play with his jealousy, It finds a way to push through any seal of his mind, his expressions are always an array of masks he uses to cover it up his emotions—but now, it is all over his face, pure surrender, because he is affected and you can tell, he is staring impudently at you, awning for your response.

  “I prefer kotyonok. Vlad says that cognac and wine is all for the heart and that vodka is for the soul. If it's hurting real bad and you’ve never had vodka before”

His brows lift, because this does surprise him and his stomach tightens at that particular Russian word. His mouth curls into a small snarl at the thought of that stupid man calling you that. A pang of jealousy surges through him. The bad kind. The kind of longing that makes him wonder that there must be a natural comorbidity between sexual appetite and sexual jealousy, between the desire to fuck and the desire to kill. He clears his throat, his face souring before his mocking tone grates:

  “Looks like you know a thing or two about me, too”   

He is trying to not be overcome by emotion. Emotion is the art of breaking hearts, minds, and tongues―but jealousy is too much, even for Bucky. He settles back into himself, shaking whatever momentary emotion flitted over his face and replacing it with a confident aura that screams laid back and in control as he cages you to the counter, his flesh hand still holding his half full cup. Your throat gurgles slightly, looking at the bigger frame towering you through your lashes like the starved woman you are. You are overwhelmed by his bold move, leaving you both speechless and breathless, but even then it is important to identify the correct emotion here—lust, a longing that goes on a loop. You try to ignore his hard cock pressing against your thigh, your attention remains on his face. You feel drunk without a drink, your nerves tighten, making your muscles clench―this is going exactly how you want. You want him to kiss you. But you make sure to keep your facial features mundane and level.   “If you keep looking at me like that, I’m going to think you have a crush on me, Bucky” You also ignore the annoying, visible blush on your cheeks, he must have noticed it because his expression goes grim for a second before a surprised laugh almost breaks free from his lips, responding only by a clink of his tumbler against yours. Judging by the rumble that vibrates in his chest, he likes your reaction, though the noise ends on a cynical note. His blue eyes drop to your mouth, warmth pours through your body and you moisturize your lips as he presses his knee between your legs. Right against your clit—you breathe out, a wave of pleasure sliding down your spine while Bucky just tips his glass back the last of vodka, allowing the burn to sear his throat and warm his stomach—while casually grinding his leg slowly against you, creating a sensation that has heat winding through your core and shooting down your legs.   “Na zdorovie” (cheers) You smile venomously with a kind of joyous sigh, your arrogance in this moment makes you feel very confident. Up to this moment possessiveness has not been that much of a torment, now it suddenly gnaws at his heart. As in slow motion, he pulls back to put both glasses on the counter. He realizes that you do something to him. Every time. It’s your only detriment this past month. To step on his heart—to test his feelings for you, and his jealousy already has made him erupt like a volcano. He has never been jealous before he met you. It burns. Some nights, watching you go with other men on missions, even that drives him mad. 

   “You and that fucking mouth, kotyonok” His voice sounds ill-natured, bitter, politeness that would only be laughed at, restraining an unruly nature, wary of the ways that you are trying to provoke him, but his tone shifts at the last word. Voice warm and low. Intimate. You like it this way. You like the way it sounds and it makes you gasp.   “You like this, don’t you, pretty girl?” Your character has absolutely changed. It is an entirely new and hitherto unknown being who now stands and stares at him somewhat lovingly. There is evidently, he concludes, something at work here, some storm of the mind, some paroxysm of emotion which he won’t question. When you say nothing, his hands move to your waist, his vision already blurring. His bones fill up with foam, a languid fear, and a terrible desire. You let out a deep breath and can’t deny the strange elation you feel when you feel his hands, needing more of it, of his touch. Your pussy contracts as his hands reach around, gripping a handful of your ass, forcing you harder against his both body and leg. The grip is both bruising and possessive, controlling every movement.     “Oh, god-” You open your mouth, and Bucky dips down, catching the moan with his tongue. Satisfaction sparks in his irises and he tilts his head and keeps watching you with those fucking lethal eyes of his. Bucky gives a small grin, a fake one. The type that shows no teeth and barely lifts at the corners. You feel a very small spark to your ego, knowing you are getting a rise out of him. But all of the playfulness in the air drowns beneath the intensity of his thousand shades of blue dancing in his eyes as if he is peeling back your mental layers, his eyes looking down watching the bare length of thigh that shows through the slit in your dress. 

   “You and these dresses” he groans. Whether you want to admit it or not, physically, this man affects you more than anyone else ever has, and that causes panic to percolate through every nerve, you feel like you are losing control, but you don’t mind it. You feel vulnerable, exposed, almost at his mercy at this point. Jealousy isn't a pleasant quality, but his jealousy is combined with modesty and there's even something touching about the filthy words coming out of his mouth. He wants you—and finally, he is not afraid to both tell and show it.

   “Ya ne mogu vyrazit', kak sil'no ty menya zavodish'” (I can’t explain to you how much you turn me on) Your lips part and you swallow audibly while he has the most delicious visual of his dick slipping between them, your eyes staring up at him in surprise and that sweet tongue running along the shaft. He surges forward, your face is an inch from his when you breathe out, he breaths in before crossing the final, tiny gap and pressing his lips to yours. It is not a sweet kiss. It is hard, demanding, and possessive, borne out of weeks of pent-up frustration and tension. His mouth is hungry and insistent, his tongue probing your lips, asking for greater intimacy. You grant it, tongues swirling together, yours follow his when it retreats and tasting his in return. When he finally pulls back, he rests his hands on your hips, and stares into your eyes for a minute.

  “Tvoy zapakh s uma menya svodit” (your scent drives me crazy) 

He speaks without haste, controlling himself so well, yet there is something in his voice, determined and euphoric, resentful and insolently defiant. Passion smolders in his eyes as he traces the line of your clavicle with his index flesh finger, pausing for only a fraction of a second. And then you become aware of all the magnificent silk wrapping around your body, you have the feeling that you might drown in his eyes, his two drops of winter rain.   “I would love to make love to you, but not tonight”  He studies your face, pleading silently for your approval, searching for the smallest sign, the slightest movement of your brow, the vaguest reddening of your cheeks, the surprise of your eyes. At that moment, your soul clenches as well as your pussy. The hard dick still pressing into you distracts you from replying. You can feel your panties dampening. And your nipples are suddenly incredibly sensitive, aching as they pucker against the material of your dress. Your chest warms, desire winding like a rope around your core. You think you like Bucky this way. A smile shows on your face. This would be invisible to any, but the closest scrutiny—Bucky has noticed it and taken it for his sign. Then he leans forward and presses his lips once more, his sugar roughness, his possessiveness is what you need to finally feel.   “What did you do when you went out?”   “We had a few drinks. We danced.” you reply, thinking it best to speak the truth at once. His lip quivers slightly, forcing himself to seem calm, but Bucky’s eyes are sparkling irefully, there is no doubt in his expression the full success of your endeavors to make him even more detested.   “You danced with him?” he asks, with sudden vivacity.   “Well, he is my date” You murmur, trying to smooth away all disquietude on the subject, you sense a physical weakness by the violent, unequal throbbing of your own heart, which beats visibly and audibly under the excess of agitation—but before you can even manage to open your mouth again, his metal fingers grab the front of your gown and pull it until it tears, no matter how beautiful, it was meant for another man—perfect breast on display just for him, his cock pulses at the sight. His touch tickles you on his way up to your boobs, skirting over your ribs before fully cupping them in his palms. “Tony’s rules include no sex in the common areas” “Fuck the rules” he grits out, more animal than you have ever heard from a human. And then he gives you a smile that just seems so genuinely sweet—with the filthy touch of his hands, that unexpected warmth rushes through you. His thumbs run over the hardened peaks, making you moan and his dick is so stiff that he is worried that he might come.   “Ty moya” he says coolly. (you are mine)

   He leans in, his voice a rumble in your ear.   “Moy kotyonok” (my kitten)

Bucky moves, gripping the meat of your thighs before he spins you harshly around and bends you over the counter. Your walls are squelching around nothing as you feel him pull back, murmuring something in Russian, it is sinful—and pleasurable, drawing a muffled whimper from your mouth as you hear him tear apart your panties. You lick your lips, trying to quench the thirst for him. Your throat is dry as you hear his belt clattering noisily as he unbuckles it, popping the buttons of his jeans open, followed by the low purr of his zipper coming undone, he drifts his hands down his sides and hooks both thumbs into his jeans, sliding them and the boxers down his legs before pressing his body against yours until every inch of him melds into you one more. Bucky’s metal hand grips your chin and forces your head back while the other closes around your throat as his cock presses against you—chills slide up your spine, arousal sending a shot of adrenaline through your center as you feel pre-cum on your naval. Fuck, he is huge. There is a certain satisfaction in manhandling you into this position, the flesh arm tightens around your nape, holding you close to him. 

   "How about we make a deal? You wear dresses for me and I take you out on dates?” He rambles against your ear, tongue slipping out to taste you, just a little bit. His cock nudges around your ass cheeks, to your sleek mound until he gasps as he guides his sticky cockhead with his metal hand, gliding through your delicate folds and returning his cold grasp around your chin. He doesn’t say anything as he slips inside you with ease, your wetness sucking him in, making it easy for him to thrust into you until he buries himself to the hilt.     “Fuck, you feel good”

Bucky moans quietly as his eyes close, focusing on feeling your cunt wrapping around his dick for the first time. His lips stay silent, but he chatters with his fingertips, with the way his hands hold, the way he fucks you. You want to see his face, but you can only imagine how perfect he looks.

His expression is dreamy, floating. Soaked in pleasure—breathless, possessed, lost in the volcanic eruptions of fever, lust and delight. Your pussy cradles around his dick as he pounds into you from behind. It is an igniting feeling to have so much control over your body. It is sick and twisted, he has long learned to run from what he feels and wants, that's why he has nightmares. To deny is to invite madness. To accept is to control. And he needs to take control over something for once in his life. You. He has lost control over everything, even the places in his head. When your moans become too loud, his hand closes around your neck, slowly cutting into your skin while cutting off oxygen. It is more painful than lethal, but more erotic than painful. His growls erupt from his chest, the primal noise flooding your senses, making your insides clench around his length.

   “Come for me, drench my dick”

He whispers, fucking his cock against your cervix. He nibbles at your earlobe, loving the sharp intake of your breath as you struggle to breathe. Jealousy…teeth dragging against your skin, living marks. The primal lust, the sheer need to claim you, quickly finding ways to express his sacred hunger to you in animal passion. He snarls out gluttonous groans against your skin as you clench and seize, pounding you harder as your body contracts. Pleasure breaks out like a wildfire, reaching around your temples, shooting up and down your spine as his thrusts never falter, his mouth hangs open with bliss, his cock plunging into you with skin-slapping speed and he finally reaches his orgasm, cock spurting a thick dollop of cum with each throb.

Lust is the best of all the deadly sins, you realize as he pulls out and helps you go back on your shaky feet. It all happened too fast. You only wanted a kiss. You push his chest like you want him off of you, but your fingers have Bucky’s shirt clutched in them and he knows you are full of shit. You want him. 

   “I wish I could say I felt guilty for what I did. I don't.” The timbre of his voice goes into that low register that makes your insides curl in on themselves. You want that tongue to swipe your sex like licking the frosting off a cupcake. It is the sexual chemistry you want more of. It is electric. But guilt sets in. You are feeling torn between your commitment to building a relationship with Vlad while engaging with Bucky, in a way it feels like cheating. A part of you is hoping someone from the team would wake up and catch you, so you wouldn't have to live with this lie. But no one wakes up and in the silence that follows, you understand the nature of your new curse: you are going to get away with it. Your silence hurts him, his mouth tightens. But there are some wounds that he can heal only by deepening them and making them worse. And yet, sometimes facts are no more than pitiful consequences, Bucky knows how the public will perceive you if you are dating the former Winter Soldier. Seeing you standing there unresponsive makes him realize that silence has a sound—he knows that you regret sleeping with him. You are the people's favorite Avenger, the one everyone look up to with admiration and reverence—he is sure that you are thinking about it, but he understands. The blue moons in his eyes are glimmering with an emotion you can’t put his finger on—and he should be sad, but instead, he feels nothing. He feels a lot of nothing these days. He is empty, as if whatever makes him feel and hurt and laugh and love has been surgically removed, leaving him hollowed out like a shell. This is for your happy ever after, Vlad might be a stupid Russian, but he is at the very core of his existence—a real human. He turns around and paces the room, as if he can leave his regret, you, behind. But it cracks you as you see him walk away, leaving you naked like an ugly shadow made by himself. You have mistaken his lust for love. Regret. It turns into anger, into hatred. And where there is anger there is always pain underneath. You eventually come to understand that in harboring the anger, the bitterness and resentment towards Bucky who has hurt you, you are giving the reins of control over to him—maybe It’s time to finally say “yes” to being Vlad’s girlfriend.

[authorhjk1]

I hope its not much to ask but any chance you can make an Irene short pls? Her photos for her upcoming photobook is driving me nuts lol especially the one where shes lying sideways and looking at the tv.

You close the door behind you, take your shoes off and walk into the living room.

"You are still up?"

The love of your life lies on the couch in your shared apartment, watching TV. The room is just as dark as the night outside. You hesitate to switch on the lights, the blue shine of the screen illuminating your wife's gorgeous face.

"Of course I am."

It took her a moment to tear her eyes off the screen. But once she looks at you, her face grows softer.

"I always wait for you, when you work late."

"Yeah."

You lose your words, when you realize what Irene is wearing. Several years of marriage and you still can't help but feel like a stupid teenager when she looks this fantastic.

As she gets off the couch, the white shirt or dress slips down her frame. You can't really tell if it's your shirt or her dress, which she brought a couple of weeks ago. It's still dark. But you are disappointed nonetheless. It hides the beautiful curves of her hips.

"I left some of the food in the fridge, if you want me to heat it up for you?"

"I love you."

She smiles back at you, tiptoeing her way around the couch.

"Love you too."

She gives you a peck on your lips, before disappearing into the kitchen.

Once you are inside the bedroom, you quickly get rid off your suit and change into something more comfortable. After a quick stop at the bathroom, you enter the kitchen.

Your wife has already finished reheating the food she made.

"Thank you."

You lean over the kitchen table, kissing Irene's forehead.

"I'm just making sure you are not going to bed hungry."

You shake your head with a big smile on your face as you sit down in front of the meal.

What did you do in your past life to deserve such a woman like her? Caring, beautiful, loving, gorgeous, funny...

The list goes on and on.

As you reach for your fork, the dim light of the fridge makes the golden wedding ring on your finger shine. Irene wanted a fridge with a window in it, so it would be easier for her to see what she needs to buy, without having to open it everytime. Her own ring reflects the blue light as well.

How lucky are you? How is it possible that you are the man who was able to put that ring on her finger?

While you enjoy the food she made, you notice Irene looking at you. Her chin resting on her hand, her elbow on the table. A dreamy smile plays around her lips as she watches you eat.

"Do you have work tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow is Saturday, silly."

"Right."

Irene giggles as you focus back on your food.

"I thought we could do something together. Something in the city."

"What exactly?"

Irene leans a little forward, visibly excited and curious.

"I'll tell you tomorrow."

She pouts at you, leaning back a little.

"Is the cake already gone?"

You notice she didn't give you any as you reach the end of your meal. You don't have to tell her you enjoyed it. She knows it. She watched you the whole time.

"Well..."

Your wife gets off her chair and walks around the table.

"The cake is gone,"

She is now standing next to you, her hand resting on your shoulder. Irene leans down a little to whisper into your ear.

"but I'm sure we can find you something delicious to eat."

Irene kisses you right next to your ear, before walking into the bedroom. You look after her, watching how she moves with grace.

After quickly finishing the meal and putting away the dishes, you arrive at the bedroom door.

Irene is lying on the bed, her head resting on her hand again. She looks at you. But this time it's different. Gone is the loving, caring look she so often wears. It's replaced by a darker, almost evil stare. Her teeth slightly bite into her lower lip as she sees you standing in the doorway.

"Time for dessert, baby."

Despite her whispering, you can clearly hear her voice, dripping with lust.

You immediately get onto the foot of the bed. Grabbing her luscious thighs with your hands, you pull Irene closer. She is moaning already, knowing what's to come.

As you lean down, you suddenly realize that the pantyhose she is wearing is blocking your access. As if she read your mind, your wife shakes her head.

"Don't tear it open again. I have to buy a new one almost weekly."

"Now I know how you spend all my money."

Before she can protest, you rip the thin fabric apart. The loud tearing sound fills your bedroom for just a moment.

"Fuck."

Irene's head sinks into the pillow at your actions. Everytime you do this, she realizes she can just buy a new one.

Pulling her black panties to the side, you are greeted with her pink pussy. It's a meal you have had every day for the last years. A meal you can never grow tired of.

"Oh gosh, baby."

Irene moans as you tease her by kissing and licking her thighs. But when you are so close to her, you can't keep it up for long. Your kisses start to circle around her pussy. You tighten it further and further, until your lips finally meet her clit.

A loud whine echoes through the room. You can tell that Irene is biting her lips, trying to prevent louder sounds from escaping her mouth.

You indulge in your favorite meal. Your favorite dessert. Her most intimate part is yours.

Years of marriage have taught you everything you need to know about your wife. That includes her body. What she feels like, wherever you touch her. How she feels when you touch her. How to touch her. It's all in your mind. As if you wrote a book or painted a map. You know every inch of her skin like it's your own.

Small and quick kisses on her clit make Irene sigh and tug at her own hair her with her hand. Licks along her folds make her whimper, almost shake in anticipation. Burying your tongue inside her snatch makes her moan. Your hands on her thighs, massaging them, makes her melt.

The combination of all of the above makes sure that you give Irene the time of her life. Her flawless body is hit by wave after wave of pleasure. Her mouth can't seem to close and her hand eventually finds your head.

As she pushes you down, her nails digging into your scalp, you know that Irene is trying to fight a lost battle. A battle you've already won. From the moment you first placed your hands on her thighs a couple of minutes ago.

And the sound of victory is your wife's high pitched cry. Irene reaches her high, her mind going blank as her body betrays her. She has no control over it as she squirms and shakes on the sheets. Her wet pussy is dripping with her juices, leaving a wet spot on the sheets beneath her. Well, more like a puddle.

While she still rides out her orgasm, you plant kisses on her clit, almost apologetically.

With her taste still lingering on your lips, you quickly rid yourself of your clothing. Irene's chest rises and falls as she takes heavy breaths.

"Honey..."

She looks up at you. No other words are needed to express her gratitude, her satisfaction, her longing. Her eyes sparkle with lust as she silently begs you to fuck her.

Knowing how wet Irene becomes after her first orgasm, you align yourself with her snatch without any further preparation. You don't have time for that anyway. Her pussy captivates you, every time you catch a glimpse of it.

"Oh, god!"

Irene moans loudly as you push inside of her. Your hands on her thighs push them apart a little, making sure you have one of the most beautiful views anyone could have.

Your wife's gorgeous face twists in pleasure as you start to fuck her. Slow and deep at first, making her gasp, everytime you hit her cervix.

The lewd sounds her mouth makes eventually coax you into thrusting harder and faster. Irene's moans become louder, her thighs are a little shakey once more.

"You're so tight, baby."

You can't help but praise your wife. She is everything a guy would want in a partner and so much more. And her insides are no exception. The way her walls wrap around you, whenever you thrust into her. The way she squeezes your cock, making sure you feel just as good as she does.

The two of you quickly lose track of time. It was already late when you got home. Both of you were already tired from the long day. But this gives you new energy. New passion.

"More, baby."

Irene moans into your ear as she tears open old scratches on your back.

By now you've carried her to the window after finally undressing her completely. The torn pantyhose lying somewhere on the floor. Her bare back is pushed flat against the cold glass, causing goosebumps to cover her skin. Her legs are wrapped around your waist as you keep pounding into her with hard thrusts.

You kiss Irene's neck, making her moan even louder as you find her soft spot with ease. Her walls clench down on your cock at the same time. A not so silent battle about who makes the other person lose first. And losing is not bad at all. By no means. Losing has only one single outcome. Which is, cuming inside your wife. Something you would gladly do the entire day if you could. Something you did do every day, the entire day, when you were on your honeymoon.

"Babe..."

You gladly admit defeat as you keep pushing inside of your wife.

"Yes, baby. M-Me too..."

You feel Irene's walls squeezing and contracting around you. You plan on holding on throughout her orgasm, but you both know it's not meant to be.

With small "Love you"'s and kisses, the both of you cum at the same time. You feel yourself getting drained by Irene's contracting walls as she feels your load painting her insides. The two of you keep hugging each other in a tight embrace as you ride out your climaxes. Irene's usual squirming and shaking is reduced to a twitching of her stomach and abs, which welcome your cum inside her belly.

"I can't wait for another girl."

You chuckle into her neck.

"That's how you spend all my money."

She grins into yours, peppering your skin with kisses.

"Four times is the charm."

After showering together, you open the door at the end of the hallway. Both beds are occupied with two small figures, visibly sleeping. You kiss them both on their foreheads, before entering the room on the right. Your oldest is sound asleep too. She almost looks exactly like her mother.

"Sleep tight."

You whisper, before joining your wife in your bed.

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

Thank you for reading everyone!

I hope you guys enjoyed. I'm working on the next pieces, so stay tuned.

This got a little longer than I expected it to be. (As always)

I had to wait for the bus a little longer than usual, so I thought I would give this a shot.

Stay healthy!

[star-suh]

Do Your (Blow)Job

Kim Mingyu x Male Reader

cw: office au, handjob, blowjob, assjob (i just made that up, don't know if that's how it's called 😭), teabagging, rimjob, facial, cum eating, just yn pleasing mingyu, creampie, there's no sex here btw, blackmailing, sort of exhibitionism, semi-public sex, spanking but just one time.

—

it's 4:00 am and the alarm is ringing and yn gets up to turn it off, "god, i hate my life," he exclaims, muffling his screams with his pillow. today his boss called him early because he had a very important meeting and yn was the perfect person to make sure everything was fine.

“he's such an asshole, making me go at five am when the meeting is at nine ugh!.. i hate his ass with passion” he was murmuring while walking quickly towards the building.

yn started to hate his boss, mingyu, when he unexpectedly began to overload him with work, yes, he is his secretary but that doesn't mean he has to do everything, now he did not have a moment of rest.

mingyu made him go to the other side of the city just to buy his favorite coffee and not to mention the times he had to clean his office after his "meetings" with daughters and sons of important industry people to “seal deals”.

like always, yn went to get his boss’ coffee, he came just in time, way before the meeting ended, "here's your stupid coffee” he murmurs as if mingyu were in front of him. “shit!! i need to go to the bathroom” he exclaimed going to his boss’ thinking that he wouldn't notice because he was busy.

the meeting was over, unfortunately for yn mingyu arrived at his office and locked the door. yn was too busy checking the elegant bathroom that he didn't hear his boss arrive "this looks much more luxurious than my entire house”.

mingyu unzipped his pants and pulled out his dick, he started stroking it while watching a video on his phone that one of his many hook ups sent. thick pre-cum drops rolling down his thick shaft “fuckk” he moans quietly.

suddenly the bathroom door opens and mingyu yelps in surprise, both stare at each other for seconds but it felt like hours, yn's eyes went down staring at the other’s hard dick, “oh my fucking god it's huge” he almosts yells that last word.

“shit yn what were you doing at my bathroom” mingyu questioned, turning around to hide his dick. then an idea came to yn's mind “damn boss you're such a pervert” he smirks “it would be a shame if someone finds out that such a respectable gentleman is a naughty man”.

“fuck off” he says angrily “what do you want?”; “an increase in my salary and to stop overloading me with unnecessary work" the other responds quickly. "mhmm… smart" mingyu praises "ok, deal".

yn was ready to leave when a pair of strong arms pushed him against the door, mingyu was behind him, his thick dick rubbing against yn's clothed ass "where are you going? as my secretary you should already know how i like to seal deals" his deep voice making yn's knees feel weak "but mingyu... boss.. i don't.."; "what happened with that confidence from before? i thought you were a tough one”

yn's hands were going up and down his boss’ dick while he squirted more lube on top of it “fuck your doing a good job” he said throwing his head back due to all the pleasure he's feeling. yn decides to speed up the pace, wanting to see his boss' dick squirting jets of white sticky cum, he feels the dickwa aas throbbing and getting ready to came but mingyu stopped him, “not yet, i want to use you properly”.

mingyu unzipped the other's pants and pulled them down along with his underwear “holy fuck look at this ass” he spanks it leaving his hand printed on it “if i had known that you have all that under your pants i would’ve made you my bitch a long time ago”. he puts his dick right in between both cheeks and starts to rub it, the friction producing a pleasurable warm sensation “if this is how it feels outside it must be way better inside, don't you think?”, yn was too flustered to speak “y-yes boss.. i’ll make sure to make you feel good” he bit his lip trying to contain his moans. “you better do, but that's for another day”.

“come in” mingyu said when someone knocked on the door, it was one of his employees. they started to talk about business and all that while yn was under the desk sucking his dick. he was being careful to not produce a moan or a wet sound, if someone finds out about what he is doing he would be doomed.

as if it was a tasty lollipop yn kept sucking and licking mingyu's salty pre-cum “mhmm” he let out a not so quiet whimper that mingyu has to disguise as if he was yawning “i'm kinda tired so can we talk about this tomorrow?” mingyu demanded and the employee just nodded and left the office.

the taller pulled yn out from under the desk and sat him on top of it, discarding his pants “it's my turn to make you feel good”, his face was now inches away from the other’s hole, his breath making yn’s hole to clench. “it looks so tasty” mingyu’s said in a low whisper as if he was hypnotized by that sexy ring of tight muscles. the boss keep teasing yn, kissing around and blowing air around that desperate hole “please, just do it already” yn cried, tears starting to form on his eyes, mingyu laughs “okay as you wish, sir”.

mingyu bury his face in between yn’s ass, his tongue reaching deep inside that hole. mingyu was trying so hard to reach yn’s prostate with his tongue that his grip was leaving marks on the other's ass, “fuck” yn bit his finger trying to contain his moans, he slowly pushed his hips back and forth trying to meet his boss’ tongue thrusts. after some minutes mingyu and yn were reaching their climax, mingyu’s dick smeared and dripping a mix of pre-cum and lube, his face smeared in thick saliva with some of it dripping down his chin. meanwhile yn kept stroking his dick “keep going i’m c-close” and as he said he came spurting white ropes of cum over the shiny glass of the desk.

mingyu stopped his rimjob, threads of saliva connecting his face with that ass, god he really loved eating it, “look at this sloppy mess” he says getting up and jerking his dick right above the puckered hole. with some final strokes he aims the tip to the hole so all the cum goes inside of him and to make sure that no drop is wasted he used his fingers to maintain the hole open.

yn with his face down against the desk rolled his eyes back when he felt the warm liquid going deep into his insides.

“come here” mingyu grabbed yn by the shoulders and make him kneel again “look at you, you're a hot mess… and that made me hornier” his dick got hard again and he started to stroke it his balls resting on above yn’s nose and mouth so he can play with them, the intoxicating smell of it making him feel dizzy “give me that load sir” yn begged while kissing the other's shaft, “that's the idea” mingyu says as he came again covering his secretary’s face with his cum then scooped it with his tip and put it all on the other’s mouth who licked clean the other’s dick, not leaving a single trace of sperm on it, “good job” the muscular man whispers and slaps gently yn's cheek who just smiles feeling proud of what he did.

people started to notice how mingyu's meetings with members of other companies lasted less time, many assumed that he had found a partner and that was why he stopped his habit of sleeping with them, but actually mingyu no longer sell deals with them he now prefers to celebrate the deals with his secretary.

[cntloup]

husband!simon x wife!reader

i know im on a break but here's a lil smth hehe🤭🩷💫🌸

"get out through the backdoor!" Simon utters hurriedly, "and take this... just in case." he hands you the gun which he keeps under his pillow.

"i'm not gonna leave you!" you blurt out as you feel the tingle of tears behind your eyes, fearing the worst possible outcome.

"you have to! please just go! i'll take care of them!" he says in a hushed tone in order not to alert the intruders.

he reaches in his nightstand and grabs an envelope and hands it to you.

"here's all the information you need in case i'm gone." he says in a monotone manner, masking how he truly feels inside.

he's never put much value on his life, always focused to get the job done no matter the cost. until you appeared and swept him off his feet.

now he senses a churn in his stomach, utter fear gnawing at his heart, not for himself, but you. what would happen to you when he's gone?

you take the envelope with shaky hands, "simon, you mean...?" you ask, frightened out of your mind.

"yes. if i die, you'll know what to do." he responds, "please don't say that!" you plead, averting your gaze from him to hide your tears.

he embraces you tightly and kisses the crown of your head, "go!" he says and ushers you out of the bedroom, making sure the path is clear for you to head out back.

moments later, after throwing punches and slashing through flesh with sharply honed knives and bullets flying around, simon finds himself among five dead bodies and a pool of blood on the carpet.

just as he shuts his eyes and takes a deep breath, he hears the sound of a gunshot.

he's startled and filled with anxiety as he steps outside to see what happened, finding himself praying for the first time in his life that it's not you.

only then, he meets your terrified figure, shaking and eyes widened in sheer shock.

his eyes land on the blood splattered all over your shirt and you notice his anxious eyes, "it's not mine!" you say breathily, chest heaving as adrenaline courses heavily through your body.

in an instant, he runs towards you and engulfs you in his strong arms while letting out a sigh of relief, "i thought i lost you!" he murmurs in your hair, "can't get rid of me that easily, babe!" you say back with a low chuckle, though still trembling.

"i'll call price to help with the mess." he says, guiding you inside the house with an arm draped over your shoulders as you're still stuck in a state of lingering shock.

-----

"you looked so fuckin' sexy in that moment with the gun in your hand and blood all over you!" he says with a smirk as you cuddle on the couch days after the incident.

"yeah? you liked that?" you ask with a playful smile as your glinting eyes meet his.

"i'm proud of you! my wife is such a badass!" he says, a soft smile adorning his scarred lips and pure adoration dancing in his eyes as he pulls you in for a sweet kiss.

[permanentswaps]

Grindr Swap With A Twink

Read Part 1 from @ghostinthedude here.

Lets just say that college was a LOT of fun. Sure, on the outside I looked like an immature pretty boy with nothing going through his head. But on the inside, I was a self-possessed adult, who knew exactly what he wanted.

From them moment I set foot on campus, I was inundated with attention from upperclassmen guys – and even some of the younger professors – who were eager to get to get me into their beds. I won’t go too much into the details, but I definitely got around that year.

Eventually, I hit my growth spurt. Better late than never I guess. And over the course of sophomore year I had packed on about 20 lbs of muscle, grew a solid 6 inches, and got a haircut. By junior year, I was no longer a slutty bottom twink being plowed by every closeted senior on the football team, I was a sexy vers twunk making my way through the swim roster.  

All the while, I was acing all my classes, leading me to graduate Summa Cum Laude and get a job in investment banking for next year. I knew its going to be a hard path, but it made my parents so proud and it will set me up financially for the rest of my career. This week, I just moved into a brand new apartment by myself in Boston’s Back Bay. I’m due to start work in a few weeks, but I wanted to get settled in, explore the city, make some friends, and maybe even build up a roster (I’m not gonna have a ton of time to meet guys once work starts up).

---

That’s why tonight, I found myself scrolling through Grindr. Here's my profile pics btw:

There’s quite a selection to choose from. Hmmm, the international guys from Harvard seem kinda hot, but I bet they’re super full of themselves. What about a true Boston native, there’s something weirdly sexy about their accents.

I kept scrolling until one guy caught my eye, making my stomach flip. It was my old body, he had tapped my profile. That's weird, I thought he would still be in Cincinnati. But anyway, his profile is kinda super hot:

"Hey, what's up," I messaged.

"Hey cutie, how's it going?" he replied.

"Alright alright, just moved to town, looking for some fun," I joked, trying to keep the conversation light.

"Hahaha, I love some fun," he replied, his enthusiasm evident even through text. "Top or bttm?"

"Vers ;)" I replied.

"I can work with that," he replied eagerly. "So, what's your name?"

I couldn't help but chuckle to myself. "You really don't know?"

"No, why would I, cutie?" he responded.

"I just figured you'd remember your own face after all these years," I teased, adding, "Although I guess it's not your face anymore."

"OMG.”

I quickly sent him my location, to which he responded almost immediately, “Be there in 20.”

---

"Shit," he said as he walked through the door, looking around wide eyed. "This place is super nice."

"Yeah, I mean, it's not totally furnished yet, but it's pretty nice," I replied, trying to downplay it a bit.

"How did you afford it? I know my parents don’t exactly have deep pockets," he asked, genuine curiosity in his tone.

"Yeah, actually," I began, feeling a pang of sympathy for my former self, "I got such good grades freshman year that I actually got a scholarship for the rest of college. And now..."

My old body's expression shifted, a hint of sadness creeping in.

“And now, I’ll be making 110k starting with no loans. So yeah mom and dad didn’t really need to give me anything.” I said, feeling a bit odd that he still referred to them as his parents. “And how about you," I asked, trying to keep the conversation going. "Where are you living these days?"

"Oh, I have a shared flat in Dorchester," he replied. "It's nothing special, but it's all I can afford on a bartender's salary."

"You moved all the way out here for a bartending gig?" I asked.

"Yeah," he said with a shrug. "I didn't really have a choice. I got fired from my last job for showing up late too many times and kinda got blacklisted from all the good bars in Cincinnati. But a buddy who had moved out here set me up with a new gig. It's okay, I guess."

"But anyway," he said, changing the subject, "look at you, you've done really well for yourself."

I couldn't help but smirk as I ran my hand down my toned abs. He wasn't wrong.

"And you," I said, diverting the attention away from myself, "you must still be pulling in all the hot twinks with that bod."

"Hahaha, yeah," he replied, his confidence shining through. "Although none of them are as sexy as you are."

His compliment caught me off guard, but I couldn't help but be drawn in as he pulled me in for a kiss. The chemistry between us was undeniable as we quickly made our way to the bedroom, shedding our clothes with eager anticipation.

He climbed on top of me, his lips finding their way to my eager member. I couldn't help but marvel at how he still remembered all the right moves. Within minutes, he had me on the edge, his skilled hands finding their way to my sensitive nipples, pushing me to climax.

With a satisfied grin, he eagerly swallowed every last drop of my load. Luckily for him, I had a rapid recharge time, and I was ready to go for round two within minutes.

As he whipped out his beer can thick cock, memories flooded back. I remembered that thing—it was definitely fun to top twinks, or twunks like myself, back in the day.

In doggy, he hugged my body tightly, in a way that felt almost nostalgic. It was almost like he was reminiscing about living in this body, even though it didn’t look anything like this when he last had it.

Then, with surprising finesse, he flipped me over into missionary, his eyes locking with mine as our bodies moved in sync.

In a half-whisper, he asked me a question that caught me off guard: "Can we swap back?"

Just then, it dawned on me. To swap back, we both needed to swallow each other’s cum. Panic surged through me. He had already swallowed mine. Shit.

Still thrusting into me, he paused, his eyes searching mine with a mix of desperation and longing. "No, you don’t understand," he pleaded. "This could’ve been my life."

Struggling to fight him through the ecstasy I was feeling from his cock plunging into me, I shook my head. "No, it wouldn’t be," I gasped out between breaths. "You'd never work hard enough for this."

I looked up and saw a look come across his face that I’d know anywhere. He was about to cum. I couldn't let him pull out and risk the chance of him trying to shoot his load all over my face.

Quickly, I pushed him backwards and positioned myself on top of him, impaling myself on his throbbing cock in cowboy. He looked up at me, a mixture of bliss and regret evident in his expression as his load erupted.

Relieved but seething with anger, I stepped off the bed and quickly grabbed his pants, tossing them at him with a firm command. "Get out," I said, my voice carrying an edge of finality. "And don't contact me again."

He silently complied, skulking towards the door where he saw himself out. Locking it behind him, I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding.

Returning to the bedroom mirror, I faced my reflection with a newfound clarity. Taking a good, hard look at myself, I uttered the words that had been swirling in my mind.

"I am Devin Connors," I declared, the weight of the statement settling over me. "And I deserve everything that I’ve worked for."

Really happy with how this one turned out. Let me know if you have any suggestions for which story I should finish next.

[mrsparrasblog]

You're losing me pt.1 POLY 141 x F, Reader

TW: cheating, hurt no comfort, heavy angst, dubious consent, there will be a happy end in the last part dont worry

pt.2

The most important thing about a POLY relationship was trust, and you knew you could trust them with all your heart. Kyle was so devoted to you that the mere thought of sleeping with another woman made him sick to his stomach. John was so full of loyalty towards you that he would never do anything to destroy your trust. Simon would rather kill himself than hurt you, the man who didn’t even dare to sleep with you for the first three months, afraid of hurting you should cheat on you? Never. And Johnny, oh your Johnny, was the sweetest of all of them. He took you on all these dates, introduced you to his family, and not a day went by without a compliment, nor a return from deployment without a bouquet of your favorite flowers.

So why do you still feel jealous sometimes? John reassured you over and over again that it was normal for you to feel jealous. He reassured you that nothing was happening while they were on deployment; they had each other for the fun stuff but definitely no other females; that spot was reserved for you, and only you.

Still, when you saw the new medic, you were so close to puking your guts out. She was beautiful, so stunningly beautiful and cool. A field medic is more in understanding with their branch than you with your job as a teacher. "Don’t need a medic, love," Simon reassured you once again, "we love that you're soft and not so rugged of war." Kyle immediately asked if he should stop talking with her outside of missions, and there you had your safety and reassurance.

Two months you spent without them; their last tour took a bit longer than expected. When John surprisingly texted you yesterday that they were back, you couldn’t contain your happiness. Unfortunately, you didn’t have time yesterday evening since you worked late, but you were eager to surprise them today on base, even though they thought you were only coming Wednesday. But hey, they’d be happy about the surprise. So you baked their favorite goods, put yourself in a cute outfit, and went on base.

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

Johnny woke up with the worst headache of his life. He didn’t even remember drinking that much, only a few pints. Normally, he was more resistant. He felt a warm body around him and hair all over his face. He didn’t remember bringing you home yesterday, but yesterday was very blurry for him anyway. But he couldn’t complain; he missed you so much. When he nuzzled inside your neck, he smelled a different perfume than usual. It didn’t smell that great, but that's not something he’d say to you. Maybe he’d buy you a bottle of your favorite perfume as a present. The hair felt slightly different too, and your figure, did you change really so much in two months? When he opened his eyes and saw her, he couldn’t believe this. This must have been a dream, a bad dream. He looked down and noticed her lack of clothes under the blanket. "Fuck," he cursed out as he jumped out of bed, waking up the medic.

"What’s wrong, Johnny?"

"Don’t call me that; only she and SI can."

"You didn’t complain yesterday when I moaned it," the medic said with a teasing smile, grinning like a kid on Christmas.

"Don’t tell me we…" he pleaded.

"Of course, we did, Sweetheart."

Fuck, fuck, fuck, he screwed up. How could he do this? Where were the others? Why didn’t they stop him? How would they react? God, they'd kill me. No, she won’t. She will look at me with this disappointing glance.

As if the situation wasn’t worse enough, the guys walked in, looking at her standing completely naked. Kyle turned immediately around, but John looked knowing exactly like Ghost.

"You have 5 seconds to explain yourself, Soap," John grunted out, his hoarse voice sounding even deeper than usual.

"Oh, Johnny and I just had a bit of fun, Cap. Don’t worry; we can still go if you want to," she smiled brightly, her hand running over Price's clothed abs.

He pushed her away. "The only thing you're going to do is shower and leave."

She didn’t move. "It’s an order, not a suggestion, soldier," so she went to the shower, leaving the four men alone.

Kyle was on his way outside. "Where are you going, Sergeant?" Ghost asked.

"Telling my girlfriend that that bastard cheated on her. You don’t deserve her, not even a bit."

"Your girlfriend?"

"You won’t tell her a thing."

"You don’t get to decide that, Ghost," Kyle almost spat out.

"Ah, really, didn’t remember a thing."

Kyle went to him, grabbed him, and pushed him into a wall. "You fucking idiot, you ruined everything just because you couldn’t control your fucking cock."

"Stop."

"Aren’t you happy about it, Garrick? Now you have her alone like you always wanted?" Ghost asked, challenging the man who hurt his Johnny. He thought there must be a logical explanation for this; Johnny loved you; he wouldn’t do that.

"I said, fucking stop," John screamed at everyone.

You heard a lot of screams around the base. When you finally went to the room of Johnny and Kyle, you saw everyone there around, fighting. "So that’s what you do when I'm away to keep you in check," you hummed, chuckling a bit.

They looked at you in horror. Instead of the usual running towards you from Kyle, the picking you up from John, or the thousand kisses from Johnny, they just stood there in shock.

"Everything alright, boys?" you asked, letting the cupcakes rest on the table you baked for them.

"Love, look—" Kyle started but got stopped by Simon.

And from that moment, it went downhill. You noticed a flashy pink bra, definitely not your size, so far from your size that you were confused. "Whose is this?" you picked it up, and no words came out of them.

"No…" you already thought about the worst, but you wanted to give them a chance. Maybe it was a damn coincidence, Johnny's sister visiting or anything like that. The doubt went away in a second when she walked out of the bathroom, completely naked. "Oh, you're still together."

"Who of you?" you begged that they didn’t say all.

"I was. I'm so sorry," John said, his face looked apologetic, while the others looked surprised at their captain.

"It’s over," you muttered, trying not to cry to save you at least a bit of dignity. You were so stupid to trust them like that.

"Love, no, please," Kyle begged while Johnny and John were just silent.

"With all of us?" Ghost asked, wounded.

"You all knew it, and no one told me that John slept with that slag."

"EY!"

"Shut up," Ghost barked at the medic.

"I swear to you, I wanted to tell you," Kyle pleaded.

"Well, you didn’t, did you?"

"No, love, wait."

"It’s over," you asked out of the door, shutting them down from following you. "Let me the fuck alone."

"Let her go," John said to his men and they listened.

Back in the comfort of your own home, you allowed yourself to cry, holding your dog Winston till you felt in an unpeaceful slumber.

[shadowdarlings]

Blood Will Rain

Azriel x Reader

Synopsis : During the war with Hybern when all seems lost a surprising new/old face makes an appearance to turn the tide in Prythian’s favor. None other than Rhysand’s long lost sister who was believed to be dead. This revelation is shocking for the entire IC but none more than Azriel himself.

Pairings : AzrielxReader , ReaderxInnerCircle!Platonic , ReaderxRhysand!Siblings

A/N: part one? this is my very first fic EVER so let me know what you guys think! not very canon but i can’t get it out of my head.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ ✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ ✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Blood was everywhere. It soaked the muddy ground of the battlefield and clung to the air like a sickness. Azriel felt as though every heavy breath he heaved in was coating his throat in the thickness of blood. He couldn’t keep track of how many of Hybern’s soldiers he had cut down with his siphons and blade, but it didn’t matter. They were losing, and he knew it. Yet he never faltered as he continued his brutal slaughter of any enemy he could set eyes on. Azriel caught a glimpse of his brother Cassian not 30 feet away slicing and brutalizing with the same vigor as himself. It still didn’t matter, they were losing. Sweat, mud, and filth coated his entire being. The battle had been raging on for hours, yet how many he did not know. The sounds of screaming, bone crunching, and organs being cut from their rightful place had long since drowned in his ears. All he could hear now was a dull buzzing and the occasional order from Rhysand in his mind’s eye. Exhaustion had not yet set in as adrenaline fueled him through most of the battle, but he could tell that Prythian’s forces were starting to slow down. He was not the only one that could knew they were losing. They had exhausted every resource, every viable power play had been made and they held no more cards in their hands. All that was left to do was fight until they couldn’t anymore, or die trying. He didn’t mind the thought as it crossed and then floated away. He would gladly give his life in the name of freedom and peace for humans and fae. The horrified faces of his comrades haunted him, but he knew they felt the same. So the battle would rage on until their very last breath.

In the distance a high pitched shrieking noise shook the buzzing from his ears. It sounded like a scream, but not quite. Azriel cut down the solider in front of him before leaping into the sky to get a better view. The noise was not coming from the distance, it was coming from the sky… and fast. Pummeling straight towards the center of Hybern’s forces a single winged creature plunged into the slick mud and hit with an impact that shook the ground for miles around. The blast radius flung the surrounding soldiers into the air and backwards, and then the creature stood. Azriel’s heart skipped a beat at the sight, yet he was too far away to identify this new player. It raised its hands and with it a large section of Hybern with it. The screaming coming from the floating bodies was a horrific symphony, and then… silent. All at once at least 30 soldiers turned from solid to liquid. Their insides and outsides turned to a red mist that rained down in a thick syrup. Again the creature raised its arms and brought down a storm of blood upon the battlefield. Five more times this happened, all within a span of a minute. Hybern’s legion was being turned into liquid dust at a rate that could give Prythian the upper hand.

Azriel tore his eyes from the creature and scanned the field for his family. His gaze landed on Rhysand who appeared frozen, eyes locked onto the carnage the winged creature was unleashing onto their enemy. They needed to regroup. Azriel soared with vigor towards Rhys and landed directly in front of him, yet his High Lord did not acknowledge him. “Rhysand!” he shouted over the screams and clashing of steel. Rhysand had paled and seemed as if he was going to be sick. Azriel gripped him by the shoulders and shook him yelling his name once more. Finally Rhys looked in his direction, his eyes glassy with tears that threatened to spill over. “It’s her,” he said, “It can’t be..” his midnight voice cracked. Although every cell in Azriel’s body screamed at him to ask who Rhys was talking about he knew that strategy must come before curiosity. Seconds later, Cassian landed with wild eyes and a heaving chest. “I don’t know what in the ever living fuck is going on, but we need to take advantage of this,” he said with ragged breaths. Azriel turned towards his other brother and the two of them began reconstructing a battle strategy that would surely beat Hybern down so they could subdue the King and lay this conflict to rest. Rhysand seemed disengaged but gave his approval nonetheless. So, with the last drops of their immortal energy, they launched a final attack bringing their enemy to bended knee.

It was Nesta that cleaved the King’s head from his shoulders, and the High Lords of Prythian that brought back Azriel’s brother from the grasps of death. Amidst the chaos of it all Azriel felt a lingering pull in his chest and was reminded of the creature that rained down on Hybern. Then almost as if on cue a long forgotten but familiar scent overwhelmed his senses. Rhysand paled once more and Azriel’s head snapped to look behind him. The sight he took in was utterly and entirely unbelievable. Instantly he fell to his knees before you. Rhys almost toppled over himself. You were drenched in blood, some of it already drying and crusting on your skin. The entire Inner Circle beheld you as if the could not register what they were seeing. For it was not a creature that came to their rescue, it was you.

“Sister,” Rhysand choked out, “wh- how? what is this?” Then with a flash of speed he had you pinned to a nearby tree, his claws at your throat and his teeth flaring in a snarl. “What is this,” he now demanded, thinking this was some final cruel joke meant to completely break him. Azriel stood just as fast, placing a warning hand on his brother’s shoulder. Cassian and Mor wore faces of complete shock. You summoned any air you could through the grip of your brother’s talons, “It’s me,” you choked out. You met his violet eyes with a set of your own and willed him to understand that it was truly you he was squeezing the life out of. It was Azriel that spoke next. “Rhys,” he said in a dangerously careful tone, “you’re hurting her.” He sincerely doubted the validity of that statement based upon what he had seen just an hour ago on the battlefield but he thought it might shake his brother from doing anything rash. Rhys slowly loosened his grip on your neck and took a stumbling step back.

“I’ll explain everything,” you said, “I promise.” Azriel took only a slight step behind you, his hand resting on truth teller’s hilt. He gestured for you to sit on the small boulder to your right. You followed his silent instruction, looking at him briefly and noticed something in those hazel eyes that you could not yet identify. Sucking in a deep breath, you launched into the story of your whereabouts for the last 500 years. You explained that when Tamlin and his father came to slaughter yourself and your mother there was a last minute alteration to their plan. They had decided instead to detain you and gift you to the King of Hybern as a gesture of good faith in their alliance. Ever since then you had been the King’s personal pet. He had done countless cruel things throughout the years, torturing and experimenting on you. When the King came into possession of the cauldron he was curious not only what it could do to humans, but High Fae as well. You were his first and only test subject as the cauldron deemed fit to gift you with extraordinary power. Power that rivaled Ameren before she had turned into fae herself. He found that it was growing increasingly difficult to keep you under lock and chain, and when the time for war came you knew it was your chance for freedom. The castle had been lightly guarded as most of Hybern’s soldiers had been called to action and your escape had been carefully calculated for centuries. The moment you tasted fresh air again you soared for your long lost family. Pent up rage from 500 years of captivity along with the surge of power gifted from the cauldron is what you unleashed upon Hybern’s massive legion, ultimately turning the tide of the war.

There was a weighted silence after you finished your story. Everyone’s eyes were pasted on you in a horrified realization. 500 years. You had been trapped for 500 years. The guilt of not knowing, not saving you, rested heavily upon each member of the Inner Circle. The crushing quiet was killing you, but it was interrupted by a deathly grumble from behind you. “You saved us,” Azriel spoke, “You saved us when we did not save you. After all this time.” You pivoted your torso to look up at the shadowsinger. His eyes were clouded with the same guilt written on the rest of the faces in front of you.

“Always,” you stated plainly.

[ramhaiba]

𝖡𝗈𝗒𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽 (𝖸𝖺𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝖲𝖺𝗍𝗈𝗋𝗎 𝖦𝗈𝗃𝗈 𝗑 𝖱𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋)

Masterlist

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT a/n: this fic is a lot darker than normal of my work contains: noncon sexual themes, manhandling, breaking up, biting, oral (f receiving), baby trapping, modern au

The truth is, you should have broken up with Satoru Gojo a long time ago. Two years ago, the thought of even considering taking a break from Satoru would have sent you into a coma. Why wouldn’t you want to be known as ‘Satoru's girl?’ Being with a guy like him would cause no one to dare look at you in the wrong way. 

Besides, he buys you things that cost more than your rent, and will refuse if you dare to give it back to him because you ‘don’t need such expensive things.’ 

So what exactly is wrong with dating Satoru?

Obsession. 

“You’ve been spending so much time with your friends...sometimes I think you forget who your boyfriend is”

“Jealous? Me? Baby, it’s only because I care about you”

“You know I don’t like it when you’re away, it hurts me. Do you want to hurt me, Y/n?”

“You look great in that dress. But I feel like I should be the only person to see you in it. Why don’t you go change so you don’t embarrass me” 

And the list goes on and on...and on…

If it wasn’t his words that would send you to this point, his constant touching, rubbing, groping, and kissing in public just to scare any guy in your five-mile radius away was something you couldn’t ignore anymore. 

The final straw is when you heard furious knocking on your door, knocking so loud that you could have sworn that whoever was behind it would just kick it down, surprised that you could hear it with the storm outside. Unlucky for you, you were middle of a shower, not expecting to be bothered in the middle of the night. You were forced to wrap a towel around your torso, covering your chest to your upper thighs, and rushing down the stairs to open the door.

You slowly open the door for your boyfriend,  his chest heaving as the rain pours down on his white hair. 

“Satoru- wh-what’s wrong.” you stuttered, clenching the towel wrapped around your body.

“Bastard ” he muttered, stepping inside, letting his wet footprints stain your floors. 

“What? Satoru, why are you even here- it’s late” you questioned, in disbelief. 

“Tell me-tell me that he didn’t fuck you, Y/n. Please” Satoru begged, his hands gripping your shoulder as he forced you to the wall, blue eyes without a trace of sanity.

“Wh-what the fuck are you talking about “ you yelped, unaware of what put your boyfriend into such a manic episode.  

“Is he still in the house? Huh? He is right?” Satoru started laughing, his head leaning into the crook of your neck, 

God- at this point you wouldn’t be surprised if he bit your neck off.

“Satoru, you’re starting to scare me. Please just tell me what’s wrong and I can help you” you responded, trying to caress his face, only for him to pin your hands above your head. 

“Nanami, you’re fucking him, right? Suguru saw bring you to your house. Holding hands or some shit. Looking too friendly” Satoru hissed, just the thought of you being touched by hands that didn’t belong to him sent waves of fury into him. 

You didn’t even question why Suguru was watching you when he had no reason to be in your area- 

Thinking back at it, you wondered if Satoru begged asked Suguru to watch you while he was too busy to do it himself. 

“Nanami only came over because I asked him to help fix my door” you answered. 

“Then what? You rode his dick as a reward?” 

“Satoru, I would never” you argued. 

“Then show me… Prove to me that you’d never betray me” he erupted, clicking his tongue 

“Please” he added.

That’s when Satoru stepped away from you, knowing what you have to do, your hands shakily let the white towel around your chest slip off, falling onto the floor, using your forearms to cover your breast and pelvis. You turned your head to the side, finding it unbearable to watch his degrading facial expression as he examined every inch of your body, tears of embarrassment threatening to spill out of your eyes. 

“What’s this,” Satoru asked, eyes hooded, his fingers prying your thighs apart, tracing over a faded bite mark. 

“It’s from you, remember” you answered, voice cracking. Suddenly, you felt Satoru’s hands pull your face towards his, blue eyes locking with yours, refusing to let you look away, “want to bet on it?” he questioned. 

You watched hopelessly as Satoru’s lips trailed down your chest to your inner thigh, his knees on the ground, stopping at the bite mark, his pupils dilating as he took a good look at it, before sinking his teeth right into it, causing you to yelp, tugging on his white hair, silently begging him to stop. And when he finally did, he pressed a wicked kiss on it, pulling back to analyze it, 

“I knew it”

He smiled as he looked up at you from between your legs, pressing his chin on your thigh, “It’s a perfect match on my teeth, I knew you’d never cheat on me baby” he smiled. His hands rubbed your waist as your tears fell from your eyes, heart still racing from the rush of adrenaline.

 Satoru didn’t mind you were crying, in fact, he thought you were always at your prettiest when crystal-clear salty tears dripped down your heated cheeks, eyelashes damp. 

--

You decided to break up with Satoru somewhere public, a local cafe- you knew either way, he’d make a big scene but hopefully being in public would hold him back at least a little bit...

Your leg was shaking from underneath the table, hand holding your face as you waited impatiently for your late soon-to-be ex-boyfriend to arrive. 

Just make it quick and straightforward- it’ll be like ripping off a band-aid! Except the band-aid is a dramatic, tall, white-haired and might scream at you in front of everyone for breaking his heart. 

You felt arms wrapped around your shoulder, turning your head to the side to make eye contact with a Satoru, his lips curled in a smile, “Y/nnn! I hope you didn’t have to wait too long” he laughed, before letting you go and pulling out his seat. 

“Suguru just kept bothering me, he keeps accusing me of drinking his protein shakes!” Satoru complained.

“But you do, Satoru” you commented.

“Yeah, but it still hurts being accused.” Satoru huffed, crossing his arms, and leaning back. 

You took a deep breath, quick and straightforward y/n...

“Satoru, there’s a reason why I asked you to come here” you muttered, hands forming a fist on your lap.

Satoru noticed the change in the atmosphere, sitting up from his seat, slightly tilting his head down, dark shade tilting downwards to reveal his eyes. 

“You’re making me nervous, Y/n. Did you find my browsing history or something?” Satoru teased, using humor to test how serious the conversation was going to be.

Unfortunately for him, you didn’t laugh at his joke, letting him know that he was going to be hit with something hard. 

“Satoru, I think-I want to break up. Things between us aren’t working out anymore and that’s mainly b-because…because I don’t think I can keep up with your expectations..” You uttered, secretly praying for some miracle where Satoru Gojo would just shake your hand, wish you the best, and then walk away peacefully.

“And what exactly are these…’ expectations’ that I am asking you, Y/n?” Satoru asked, eyes narrowing, looking down at you, rolling his finger on the table.

“It’s like-” You clicked your tongue.

“You expect me to worship you or something. Because god forbid I don’t answer your text in five seconds o-or if I want to ask another man for directions? I don’t even remember the last time I got to spend time with my friends without y-you blowing up on me like a fucking lunatic” you ranted, years of frustration escaping your thoughts and into your words. 

“Really? You’re breaking up with me because all I ask for is just a little reciprocation to all the things I do for you- the things I buy for you- the things I’ve done to protect you. ” Satoru laughed in disbelief. 

“I never asked for all of that, Satoru. It’s all too much for me- “ you replied.

“ What? So you expect me not to love my girlfriend?” Satoru argued. 

“This isn’t love- I feel like I’m drowning in you, Satoru. I need a break from your obsessive behavior"

“Obsessive?” Satoru repeated, clicking his tongue, looking around the cafe, in disbelief at what was occurring. 

“You’re going to fucking regret even thinking of breaking up with me” he muttered, before getting up, without giving you a second glance, leaving you alone at the table, the golden bell at the door ringing as he left. 

It took you ten minutes to muster up the courage to get up and leave the cafe, still processing today’s event.

----

You spent the entire month trying to recover your damaged social life, finally reconnecting with friends- who gave you the courage to finally erase any traces of Satoru Gojo on your phone, blocking all of his contacts, deleting every photo of him- even the ones where you looked good in.

You got a cardboard box and started stuffing any item in your room that even slightly reminded you of him, from the teddy bear he got you for your first date to the chapstick you brought because it was his favorite flavor. 

You sealed the box of haunted memories with a big strip of duct tape, grabbing a sharpie and writing ‘DO NOT OPEN’ on the cardboard. You hesitated as you held the box in front of the trash can, hands shaking before settling for the box rot in the corner of your room instead of being thrown inside the trash can.

'You could always throw it out later' you reminded yourself.

-----

You woke up in the middle of the night, mouth dry, begging for a drop of water. You slowly slide out of the comfort of your bed, noticing that your cat is no longer sleeping beside you- which is slightly alarming but you shook it off as any real threat because ‘they're probably just in their litterbox or something.’ 

Your staircase let out drawn-out creaking sounds with every step you took, one hand holding onto the railing, and the other blindly searching for the light switch on the wall. Once you heard the satisfying click of the switch being flipped, that’s when you saw him, familiar white hair, tall, blue-eyed ex-boyfriend, standing in your living room, your oblivious cat rubbing against his leg. Satoru was holding a bouquet of red roses, looking up at you with a sadistic smile, “oh, looks like our princess is awake” he laughed.

Holy shit- how the fuck is he in your house at the middle of the night- He mailed you back the spare key you gave him, Fuck, You even changed your locks just incase.

Without another thought, you rushed back up your stairs, your foot never touching the living room’s floor. You desperately tried to make your way back into your bedroom, hearing the sound of Satoru’s footsteps chasing after you.  You cried in relief as you managed to make it to your bedroom, instantly shutting and locking the door as you pressed your back against it, the sounds of your cries being muffled out by the thumping of Satoru’s fist banging at your door. 

“Y/n, open the door. I just wanna apologize, baby” he laughed, his tone sounding sincere, as he was twisting the uncooperative doorknob. 

“Leave me alone, Gojo- We’re over ” you shouted, hands shaking, your back being able to feel the door shake from Satoru’s assault. 

“Gojo? Baby, don't call me by my last name. Just open the door and we can talk” Satoru replied. 

“I-I’m going to call the cops if you don’t leave right now” you shouted, your threat causing Satoru to go silent, the only noise you heard was his footsteps walking away from the door. You sighed in relief but decided to call the police regardless- he did just break into your house after all. 

Still panicked by the whole encounter, you clumsily searched for your phone- which of course your cat knocked down somewhere.

You get on your knees, searching for your phone through the tiny sliver between your bed frame and the hardwood floor, hand blindly trying to grab for something in the darkness. Just as you felt the familiar rectangular device at your fingertips, a loud crashing noise erupted. Before you could even react, you were pulled off of the floor, back pressed against Satoru’s chest, his hands wrapping around your waist, lowering his head in the crook of your neck. You turned your head, noticing your door with a new hammer-shaped hole next to the door knob. Nanami really shouldn’t have left his toolbox the last time he came over to fix your door.

“Fuck, Y/n- You really like to make a guy work for his reward?” Satoru laughed in your ear, holding you tighter as you tried to squirm out of his grip.

“Gojo, let me go- you fucking psycho” you shouted, trying to kick him off of you, only to receive his teeth sinking into your neck, causing your whole body to tense up, words not being able to slip out of your mouth as your entire body was drowning in fear. 

Satoru slowly pulled his teeth out of your tender skin, pressing a soft kiss to the mark before leaning his head over your ear, “Look at you, calling me Gojo? A psycho? Don’t you know you’re hurting my feelings?”

Suddenly, Satoru threw you on your bed, and before you could get up, he climbed over you, his forearm next to the sides of your face, his face centimeters away from yours, blue eyes staring down at you in disappointment.

“I shouldn’t be surprised. After all, you never really cared about how I felt. Y'know, I really tried to be a nice boyfriend. But it seems like stupid girls like you don’t realize when they have something nice” Satoru uttered. His whole demeanor feels so intense, causing you to look away from him to deal with the overwhelming anxiety he caused.

“Fucking look at me when I talk to you” Satoru snarled, grabbing your face, thumb rubbing your cheek as he clicked his tongue.

“Please don’t hurt me” you begged, voice cracking, hands shaking at your side, feeling like a rabbit that a snake had just trapped.

“Hurt you? Baby, I’m just going to give you what you asked for, was too nice to you before that’s why you left. Relationships are all about compromises right?” Satoru responded, his lips turning into a sadistic smile. 

The sound of him attempting to unbuckle his belt caused your whole body to switch into fight mode.

You began thrashing your fist on his chest, chest heaving, shaking your head in disbelief as you begged him not to do whatever wicked thing he planned to do. You were using up all your energy trying your best to kick off a man who easily overpowered you.

He grabbed your neck lifted it up and then slammed it back onto the bed, the motion causing your headache and the tightness around your throat to become unbearable. “Do I have to tie you up? You know how much I love it when you’re scratching up my back, moaning like a hooker. But if you can’t be a good girl and take your punishment for throwing me out like fucking trash, I guess I’ll just have no choice but to wrap those pretty wrists with my belt” Satoru threatened. 

Pleased by your silence - which was mostly caused by fear- Satoru’s hand dragged across your body, pulling up your shirt to get a good view of the breasts that he’s been stroking his cock to for the entire hellish month that he had without you, enjoying the feeling of groping the soft skin into his palms.

Once he was satisfied, he lowered himself down to your waist, slowly sliding your pants off your legs, while leaving a kiss on your hip.

“Fuck princess, I wish I could just ram my dick into that tight pussy right now and not stop- even if you’re crying and screaming my name” Satoru confessed, taking the hem of your panties between his teeth and then pulling them down.

“But then I guess I wouldn’t get to taste this sweet cunt” Satoru muttered between kisses along your inner thigh. With his strong hands holding onto your hips, Satoru lowered his head towards your cunt, his tongue flicking out to tease your clit before his tongue placed a teasing circular stroke. 

You starring at the ceiling, trying to ignore the pleasure but it’s too difficult it’s impossible really, when you and Satoru were dating, he’d eat you out to the point of overstimulation, where your legs would be shaking, eyelashes damped with tears, too fucked out to properly say words. 

That's how he liked you- his dumb little girlfriend.

He knows your body more than you do, so that's how he knows when he should pull away just as you were so close to your orgasm, leaving you left dry and empty. 

“My dumb girl, you think I’d let you cum for what you did to me?” Satoru laughed, leaning over, his face hovering over yours, blue eyes refusing you to look away.  “Satoru- don’t do this” you begged, chest heaving. 

“Don’t give me that look. You should have known this would happen. You’re not allowed to leave me not when I’ve given you fucking everything” Satoru began to shout, his anger slipping through the cracks of his comedic complex. 

“Now—Now, it’s time to accept your punishment. “ Satoru huffed, leaning back, releasing his painfully hard cock out of the confinement of his boxer, stroking it to the sight of your exposed cunt. Then you felt Satoru push your shaking thighs apart, pressing his cock against your waiting cunt, slowly pushing into your entrance, immediately you cling onto your blankets, refusing to touch him. 

He didn’t want to waste any more time, he was already nice enough to stretch you out. Well he had to- he wanted to punish you not fucking destroy you.

So to your torture, he pulled out of your cunt, only for him to slam back in, your entire body bouncing with the moment, gasping at the burning stretch. 

He thrusts into your cunt relentlessly, pupils blown out like a predator finally feasting on its prey. His glare isn’t even focused on you, too distracted by the sight of your greedy cunt sucking every inch of him, “Fuck- you’re basically begging me to cum inside of you, right sweetheart?” Satoru huffed, experimentally pressing his thumbs over your clit, causing your breath to hitch. 

“No-No don’t do that” you whined, the grip you had on your bedsheets tightening with anxiety. “Is that so?” Satoru cooed at your disagreement. He leaned over, his lips hovering over the shell of your ear, his chest pressing against yours, as he intertwined his hands with your uncooperative shaking hands.

“Then apologize” he voiced, laying his tongue flat on the side of your neck as he licked up a strip, shivers going down your spine. His offer isn't for himself to know that he won- he already knows that by the way he has you, all flustered and scared. His offer is for you to realize that you lost, that you were wrong to think that you could leave him.

“I-I’m so sorry, Satoru” you croaked, sucking up your pride, slowly wrapping your arms around his neck in hopes your affection would calm him down. “There’s my good girl. Only took a little push for her to come out” Satoru cooed, leaning over to press an ironic sweet kiss on your swollen lips. When the storm inside him finally seemed to calm down that’s when you felt a harsh thrust of his hips almost knock the air out of your lungs, causing you to erupt into a gasp, heart racing. 

“M’sorry baby, I really thought an apology would calm me down. Just can’t forget all the bullshit you put me through for a whole month” Satoru huffed, each word with a ruthless snap of his hips. His pace is too intense, you're forced to hold onto him, clawing up his back, eyes rolling behind the back of your head as you shamelessly moaned. 

 You felt disgusted by him but there was a reason you couldn’t bring yourself to throw out that box, eradicate every trace of memory of him. You can lie all you want but a part of you is enjoying the feeling of being desired- needed like you were his oxygen. In a sense, you are his everything.

You hated the fact that he’d probably kill for you if you asked. Yet you knew he was the only person in your life who'd worship you to this level of extreme. You can't get that type of devotion anywhere.

“Shit- I almost forgot” Satoru laughed.

You felt the weight of the bed shift as Satoru got up, looking for something on the floor before picking up his discarded pants. You watched as he rummaged for something in his pant’s pockets before climbing back into bed. He gently picked up your right hand, then smoothly slipped on a golden ring on your finger.

“When you look at this engagement ring, I want you to remember

It’s not an obsession, sweetheart, it’s true love.”

[drunkenlionwrites]

alright curveball what typical archetype would boothill be in a high school setting and what would he be like with his partner >:) (hc format please)

Boothill HS AU headcanons:

OMG OMG nonnie, that’s such a cool ask. I honestly would’ve not thought about this concept myself, cause school was so so long ago for me, but I’ve got the vision of HS Boothill right away when I read it💖 CW: none, g/n reader

So Boothill as the archetype would be ‘the classmate who looks like a local thug but is actually the kindest soul.’

Imagine your classmate who is not really studious and can disrupt the lesson by loudly laughing and talking in class and does this 5/5 days per week. He’s loud and brush and sometimes vulgar.

Once, he kicked and cussed out the vending machine out in hallway so loudly when you passed by that it made you physically jump. Even though he’s noticed that and tried to apologize to you, calling out your name through the hall, since that time you’ve decided that you don’t like him.

You are slightly annoyed by this and never approach him, but he’s got a big presence in school, so you see and hear things about him from time to time, though you don’t know which rumors are true and which are not. Some of them sound crazy: once he beat 4 to 5 upperclassmen alone. Some say it was 10 of them. Some say he’s got something on the principal; hence he doesn’t get in trouble with anyone. Some say it’s cause he’s the principal’s kid. Or lover. Those all sound crazy and unrealistic, but who knows?

Once you see him really beating up someone behind the school building with your own eyes. You stand there and watch for a bit, thinking about reporting this to someone, but then you notice Boothill coming up to a smaller kid, sitting on the ground not far away, comforting him and picking up his bag, helping the kid to pack the contents inside. You just hear never-ending ‘thank you’s in between small sobs and Boothill’s warm laughter afterwards.

Another day, you hear him quarrelling loudly with a teacher, which sounded again completely disrespectful from his side. Later, from murmurs around school you learn that he stood up for the shyer kid when he thought that they were unjustly reprimanded.

Once you saw him in the street after school on the day when he was missing, presumably staying in sick or something. He shouted out your name from the tree, causing you to flinch again. Turns out, he spent hours trying to get one stubborn kitty to come to him, skipping classes cause of it.

It was a bit awkward when you started dating, cause being in his orbit meant that you too became more known in school and began noticing stares and hearing whispers about you.

Boothill is a total sweetheart with you, even though he can be slightly obnoxious and is not good at reading the mood from time to time. It doesn’t matter since his positive outlook and mostly always good mood is oh so infectious.

He’s also very physical, not minding the pda at school. Walking with you holding your hand, hugging from behind etc.

He doesn’t mind spending the whole day at school attempting to study, especially if you’re a diligent student. Though he is a student who’s always ready to and will bail classes and will try to talk you into skipping school with him cause it’s just too much fun stuff happening outside that seems much more important to him.

I see the dynamic as a he’s a good influence in terms for teaching his s/o to be more assertive and confident in themselves and in return being the one who needs to be stopped and calmed out a bit when he acts on a whim.

[russellsppttemplates]

Could you do a Lando blurb Where he takes Tilly and Fraser for the first time to McLaren HQ after the Chinese GP for the debrief and to give reader a break due to her pregnancy, and they are enchanted by the old models of McLaren's F1 cars

"Why did mummy stay at home? Didn't she want to tag along with us?", Matilda mused as Lando looked for a parking spot outside the Center.

"She would've liked to come, I'm sure, but mummy needs to rest as much as she can now that Charlotte is getting bigger", Lando smiled at the thought.

"It's true - did you see that she fell asleep yesterday when we were colouring in? And then sometimes she says that Lottie kicks her tummy a lot - it tickles my hands when I touch it", Fraser beamed.

"That's why we have to be gentle with mummy - we always need to be gentle and kind with her, but now, we need to be extra gentle and kind, okay?", Lando offered.

Getting out of the car, the kids held Lando's hands and walked into the building, waving at anyone who greeted them.

"Is it bring your kids to workd day?", Sophie asked as she watched them walk on the corridor.

"It's we are letting mummy rest day!", Fraser beamed, "she's getting tired now that she's growing our sister in her tummy", he explained.

"This is very nice of you then - are you going to see the cars? The team brought them back out yesterday from the workshop", she suggested.

Lando nodded and thanked her, heading with your children to the exhibition room.

"Can we touch them, daddy?", Matilda asked.

"You can, but you have to be careful, okay? The team worked really hard and we can't undo their work", Lando added before letting the kids know which ones he had the privilege to drive, the ones he raced in and the ones that held important memories for the sport.

"This is the one in the picture that mummy has on her bedside table", Matilda stated as she touched the car that Lando won his first race with.

The memory was special and you couldn't remove the old photo from your bedside table. You and Lando looked younger, but happier all the same at his achievement.

"Yes, that's the one", Lando assured, "it was a very special day", he smiled.

"This one is so pretty, can you pick me up so I can look inside, please?", Fraser asked Lando.

"Me too, please daddy! After Fraser!", Matilda stood next to Lando.

(Thank you for sending this in ✨️)

[crazy4nika]

just enough

warnings: nightmares and paige being annoying but thats lowkey it this ones kinda cute

request: hi!!! i loved you nika headcannons. would you be open to writing about her? i rlly feel like you’re hc abt her match up so well

nika mühl x reader

the warmth of my blankets encompassed me in, the weight of the soft fabric holding me down. i don’t really know how i was still awake, considering it was almost 1 a.m.

its not like i was staying awake, i was actually trying to sleep.

my room was small, but comfy. the only light was a streetlight gleaming through the window. it had one bed, a nightstand and, a dresser. a uconn ncaa banner was pitched above the bed. my dorm-room was surprisingly quiet, the only sound being a small floor fans whirring.

the silence was interrupted was a quiet jingle from the door handle. the metal clicked and the door creaked open, and a tall brunette girl poked her head in. “hey niks. couldn’t sleep again?”

“how’d you know?” she spoke sarcastically, shrugging while she walked in. the door closed quietly behind her. sometimes when nika can’t sleep, she finds her way into my room. after what was probably the 20th time this happened, i gave her an extra key so i didn’t have to get up to let her in.

i scooted closer to the wall to make space as she stumbled her way over. nika lifted the covers up and slipped under them, instantly moving closer to me. she gave me a quick smile before rolling over, facing away. “thanks. for you know. this?”

“yeah… i don’t mind,” i traced little shapes on her back while we talked. i drew a dog and a house and two girl standing outside of it before she moved. nika sunk further into the bed, “i was kind of worried you would.”

“why would it bother me? its really nice when you’re here.” she giggled before turning back towards me, making eye contact in the dark. “do you really think i would give you a key if it bothered me?”

she had really nice eyes, and they were looking right in mine. and the way she talked was so perfect, “i guess i never thought about it that way.” she blinked and it broke me out if my trance, but i was pulled back in the second i could see them again. the chocolate brown swirled around, darker on the inside and lighter on the outside. it had such a sweet look to it and the colour highlighted her face.

nika sighed and then we just layed there in silence, but it wasn’t awkward. nothing needed to be said. the presence of each other being there was just enough.

but i had to break it. i don’t really know why. “are you sure your doing okay?”

she seemed taken aback, her eyes loosing the happiness they had seconds prior to my words. “i- why wouldn’t i be?” she was laying so close to me that i could feel her breath shaking while she spoke, a nervousness coating her expressions.

“niks, i’m just worried about your sleep and stuff. you come in here saying that you cant sleep more often then not,” she pulled the covers slightly closer, twisting the edge lightly with her fingers. “and theres nothing wrong with you coming in here, but is something keeping you up at night?”

“its not like its important or anything.”

“yes it is.”

even though she was laying down she still crossed her arms and gave me a you should be quiet look. “why?”

“because your important. and i care.” a strand of hair fell in front of her face and she blew at it to try and get rid of it, but it kept ended up right back in her face. frustration grew over her face. after she started mumbling swears at it, i tucked it behind her ear.

“why do you care?” she spat, calmness buried underneath her mean tone.

“i don’t know, why are you interrogating me now?”

“you know i didn’t come here for a heart to heart. i came here to sleep.”

“i guess we don’t always get what we want.”

she took in a deep breath, “i’ve been have these nightmares, where i cant do anything right. and coach gets mad at me, then the rest of the team follows,”

“and nobody will talk to me, because i keep messing the plays up. not even you will talk to me.”

“and it gets to the point where nobody will look at me, because they’re ashamed for me. or at me, i’m not really sure. and in the end, i just stop loving basketball.” her voice cracks with those last words and it breaks my heart. and as the tears she was holding back slowly make their way over her waterline and onto her face, i pull her into a hug.

her voice was all squeaky and wobbly, “i just don’t want to be a failure.” nikas face was pressed against my chest, a wet spot appearing on my t-shirt.

“no. look at me,”

nika peered up at me, eyes still glossy with tears. “you are not a failure. you never will be, okay? we all love you so much. i love you so much.”

“yeah.” she sniffled out. my hand held her head close the myself, playing with her hair. my other hand scratched her back, trailing under her shirt slightly.

she wiped her tears with her sleeve before cuddling back in, “your a good friend.” she mumbled into the crook of my neck, her lips brushing lightly over my skin as she spoke.

she was still there when i woke up, snoring lightly. her leg was thrown over me and her arms were still wrapped around my waist. nika was practically a koala, but i didn’t mind.

i was just glad she was there.

most if the time when she came in the night, we wouldn’t talk at all and she would be gone by the time i was awake. usually i was asleep when she got there too. sometimes i didn’t even know she was in my room until she mentions it sometime during the day.

i trusted her, entirely.

it didn’t matter to me if she came in and out throughout the night and the morning.

after awhile, we just stopped talking about it. if she was there, then cool. we didn’t need to have a conversation about why.

im not sure what was different about last night and this morning. but i liked it. i liked talking to her, and i liked having her with me.

she was a cute sleeper too. her messy hair still looked perfect. i could just lay there forever, it was peaceful. but we weren’t going to, because nika woke up. she yawned and stretched her arms up, nudging me in the face with one. “g’morning.”

she peeled herself off of me, smiling up. “good morning. whats the time?”

i shrugged, “i dunno.”

nika got out of the bed, grabbing my hands and pulling me up with her. she didn’t let go when she started to talk, “hey, I’m sorry about last night.”

i smiled at her, it was more of a sad smile though. my thumb traced over her hand, “don’t be. everybody needs somebody.”

she squeezed both of my hands before pulling me into a hug, pressing a quick kiss to the side of my head. “no, i- you said you loved me, and i didn’t say it back. so i’m sorry about that.”

“its fine.”

she spoke quietly, almost like a whisper, “i do love you too, by the way.” she smiled.

i held her face in my hands, “good.” i pressed a light kiss to her chin. “you better love me.”

god, her smile was perfect too. she giggled and smiled again. “ill see you at practice?”

“three hours mühl. trust me, ill be there.” she pulled me into a hug, patting my back.

she pulled away, heading towards the door. “bye bye!”

i walked into practice with my bag slung over my shoulder, barely awake.

i had fallen asleep again after nika had left, only waking up because paige barged into my room, woke me up by scaring me, then still made fun of my scream.

then she forced me to make her waffles, then complained that i had no butter. like…?

i held my head in my hands, rubbing my temples. “p be quiet, for one second please?”

“but-”

“paige. shh.” i took a sip of water and began walking towards the court, not realizing she was multiple steps behind me. at that point, it was too late.

she ran at me and jumped onto my back which sent up both onto the floor, laughing hysterically. i was curled into a ball holding my stomach because it was so funny it hurt. “paige, why?” i laughed out, hitting her over the head for payback.

“oh you did not”

she shot onto her feet and grabbed me, hoisting me onto my feet. i wiggled out of her grip and started to run away, laughing at her as she chased after.

i ran into a brunette girl, grabbing her shoulders in putting her between me and paige. “help! nika, help me please.”

“what did you do?”

i wheezed as i spoke because i was out if breath. “i-”

the blonde girl cut me off, “she hit me.”

“you practically tackled me!”

paige smirked before running around nika towards me, hitting me over the head. she laughed as she ran away, “paige! i’m done.” i spoke as i lied on the floor, staring up at the ceiling.

nika leaned above me, shaking her head while smiling, “get up,” she spoke, dragging out her words.

i groaned and rolled over onto my stomach, ignoring her.

her hands wrapped around my waist, trying to pull me onto my feet. “put me down. its colder on the floor.”

“no.”

once my feet were on the ground, i turned around to face her. i didn’t realize how close she was, because our faces were an inch apart. “not so bad up here, huh?”

“its horrible. i’m getting water.”

she snickered as i walked away, finding paige again. i walked over to the benches, grabbing my water from my bag.

“hm. look what the cat dragged in”

i turned to face the girl, “paige. what?” i sighed, “what are you talking about?”

“nevermind. i have a question.” the blonde sat down next to me, leaning to whisper into my ear, “what up with you and niks?”

“nothing! what?”

“you know what i mean,” she wiggled her eyebrows at me, “i mean she totally likes you.”

“first of all, shes just my friend and my teammate. second of all, this is very random.”

she stood up, putting her hands on her hips. “it would be cute.”

“i guess.”

paige made an explosion sound and motion with her hands. “so you admit to it?”

“fine, yes. shes cute.” the blonde pulled me into a hug and swayed back and forth. “ill make it happen.”

im shutting this idea down. “no, p. your doing nothing.”

“but-” i held a single finger to her lips, silencing her, “shhh.”

“please just let me! trust me it will go perfect.”

i closed my water bottle, placing it down next to me. i went to answer her but coach walked in, the rest of the ream following behind. “alright. lets get started! running laps! go!”

i was so sore. my legs felt like jello and everything hurt. i was laying on my bed on my stomach, scrolling on my phone. it was quiet, until nika came to my dorm again. she normally never came twice in a row, but i didn’t mind. “hey. whats up?”

“i need to talk to you.”

she was fiddling with her fingers and sweatshirts sleeves, a nervous expression pasted over her face. “i was talking to paige after practice today, and i-, uhm.”

“oh god.” i pulled my knees to my chest while sitting up in bed. breaking my eye contact with nika.

she closed the door and sat down in the beanbag chair in the corner of my room. “is it true?”

“yes,” i think i might kill paige. “niks, i don’t want things to to be weird.”

she stood up from the beanbag chair on the floor and walked over to the bed, sitting down next to me. “it wont be.”

“why, i thi-” i never got to finish my sentence.

nika grabbed the side of my face and placed her lips on mine, smiling into it. my hands made their way to her neck before she pulled away. “thats why.”

[staymaniacvillians]

• Chuuya nakahara •

↬comforting him after dazai leaves the port mafia

↬fluff

"Dazai has left the port mafia" 

Your heart sank as you heard those words. Did he really leave? Did he really betray the port mafia? You never expected him out of everyone to leave. All sorts of thoughts flooded your mind but you were more worried about Chuuya. He wouldn't take this well. Even though they argued and fought, you knew Chuuya still cared about Dazai to some extent. Dazai was the one who recruited Chuuya into the port mafia in the first place. You rushed out of your office and went to see Chuuya at his place. 

As you stood outside his apartment you contemplated if you should check on him or not. Why were you even worried? It's not like you guys were dating or anything. You and Chuuya were close but not as much as him and Dazai. You hesitated before knocking on his door. No response. You tried again and this time it opened to reveal a very dishevelled-looking chuuya. His hair was all messed up, sticking out in every direction. He looked like he had been drinking. 

"Why are you here?" He asked, sounding rather annoyed but he still let you inside his apartment and walked over to his couch. 

"I was worried..." You say as you follow him. 

There was a half-empty bottle of wine on the table. Chuuya sighs deeply as he sits down on the couch. 

"You don't have to worry about me."  He mumbled and picked up the wine bottle.

"about dazai leaving.." you started but he cut you off

"I don't want to talk about that idiot" he snapped and took a sip from the bottle.

You frowned but decided to ignore it and sat on the couch next to him. 

"I know you're upset.." you say as you fidget with your fingers, feeling somewhat awkward. 

"I don't care about that asshole...he left the port mafia, he left you and me..," he said as he took another sip from his bottle. Your frown deepens as he continues to drink. 

"chuuya stop drinking" you said and grabbed the bottle from him. The ginger glared at you but didn't fight back. 

"you're drunk" you added as you kept the bottle back on the table. 

Chuuya leaned back on the couch and he sighed. You decided to get some water for him so you stood up but he pulled you down. 

"don't leave, just..stay here," Chuuya said and he wrapped an arm around you. Your eyes widened as he pulled you onto his lap. He was drunk. His face was so close to yours. You could feel his warm breath against you. You swallowed thickly.

"chuuya...." You whispered trying to pry his hand off of your waist. But his grip only tightened.

"don't go" he pleaded

"chuuya I was going to get water for-" Before you could say anything he cut you off

"No I don't need anything..just you"  he said and rested his head in the crook of your neck.

Your heart raced as he nuzzled into your skin. You felt your blush spread all over your face but you couldn’t help it. He was being too cuddly. This wasn't like chuuya at all. You chalked it up to him just being drunk because of all the wine he had. 

[gotham-daydreams]

Chapter 3 'Sneak Peak'/Teaser 2

This is more of a teaser above all else, and the only real 'sneak peak' part of it is just a small scene that happens in the chapter, but from a different POV. Regardless, I hop you enjoy this little look, and just like the last teaser- this is all a glimpse that won't really be shown in the final chapter when I post both parts. Though more emphasis on the "you won't really see this outside of this teaser" part.

Nevertheless, enjoy :]

-----

The moment you went into the diner, he took a moment longer to watch you walk inside before quickly realizing his phone was blowing up. So, reluctantly, he turned his intercom back on, and was swiftly met with a tidal wave of voices - most of which were shouting at him. Even if he couldn't blame them too much, that didn't make the experience any less annoying or loud. So, so loud.

He tried to explain himself and calm them down like he usually did, and it did kind of work - even if a few jabs and venomous words were thrown his way in the process. Again, he couldn't really blame them, but that didn't make things better. Not really, anyway. Their words hurt, sure, but hey, on the bright side - he was still with you. No matter what they said could change that, with a little bonus being that, deep down, you were the reason why all of them kept away too, and haven't interrupted your little get-together — since there was an untold but very present fear that he himself still felt when it came to you, and that being the possibility that you hated them. That anything they did now, would only worsen whatever image you already have of them, and if it was bad already - well, they’d have to work extra hard to repair things, wouldn't they?

It's not the potential work ahead that frightened them per say – more so the thought that they had pushed you so far away that you couldn't help but despise them. That you'd refuse to come back home and have them back into your life – refuse their effort and how they were now trying, even if it may have been a month or so too late – that you'd put an end to whatever they were hoping to have now, and refuse them at every turn simply out of spite and anger. Even if it made sense, and you have all the right to be mad, the thought and possibility didn't hurt any less. They didn't want you to hate them – no matter how reasonable that reaction would be – and most of all, they don't want to know that they've hurt you to such a point. He didn't, anyway, but he didn't want a lot of things when it came to you.

It's not that he didn't want to hear you out or be made aware of his faults - for crying out loud, he basically missed out on your entire life! Of course he's bound to have hurt you, and you're bound to be mad about it, he knew that even if he still didn't like the idea. If anything, a part of him did want to know so he knew where he had to really shine. So he knew what he really needed to get done and work on when it came to you, but that wasn't the point.

He never wanted to hurt you, never. None of them really did, but he especially – in his mind – didn't mean to. So, in a way, he was almost afraid to have to face that outcome.

It wasn't the anger he was afraid of, but the pain coupled with it, since he didn't know how bad it was - none of them did. Each of them only saw pieces, some more than others, and even if he stood here knowing that, he dreaded seeing the full weight of it.

There was more, he could feel it, and he hated that more than anything. He hated not knowing, but also feared what he'd find – even if there wasn’t much he could do about that. Despite himself and the feelings he and the rest of the family seemed to share, he knew that whatever they got – they deserved it. He already knew that this wouldn't exactly go smoothly, and despite it only being a few minutes – he could already feel it. The rockiness, the edge that seemed to hang in the air whenever you spoke, the unease you felt, and the nervousness coming from you was beyond evident.

Even if there was clearly a long way to go, he still couldn't help but… hope. Sure, it was wishful thinking, and honestly not very realistic, but he couldn't help himself. As much as it hurt looking at you, it made him soft, and untangled the most messy parts of himself. He couldn't explain why even if he tried, especially because he was only beginning to feel this now, but all he knew was that it felt… good, and made him regret not trying harder sooner.

He had a lot of regrets since he saw those things in your room and learned what he did, but as time passed and the night continued on, he found those regrets growing and becoming bigger. Though this wasn’t about him – of course it wasn’t, why would it be? – it was about you, they all knew that despite themselves, and all they wanted to do to make up for lost time.

Speaking of, the shouts never truly stopped. Sure, some died down and tried to get some information out of him, and even if he did say a few things here and there to give the impression that he was paying attention, most of what he learned he sort of… kept to himself. He just couldn’t help it. There was something so… special, so good that came with knowing more about you than the others. That came with being able to pick up on these little, small things about yourself that the others didn’t have the luxury of knowing just yet.

Maybe they’d learn eventually if things go smoothly, he knew that much, but at the moment he was more than willing to take in this rare moment and opportunity. The fleetingness of it only making it more enticing, and worthy of taking.

Yet, when one of them mentions you again, and asks how you’re doing – he can’t help but look back at you through the glass of the diner, but what he sees isn’t what he expects and he pauses.

You both hold your stares for a moment, and he ends up being the first to break it as he looks away, unable to take the sight any longer. He didn’t like that look in your eyes, the look you gave him – the look of untold worries and concerns that he knew dealt with him or were about him in some way. Granted, he couldn’t read your mind, but for a moment he wished he could. For that moment, he wishes he could take even the smallest peak into your thoughts just so that he knew what made you give him such a look. So that he knew what he could do to take away that conflict in your eyes and ease whatever worries you had – so that he could try to make things better.

He doesn’t know what he did wrong, but suddenly, just from that alone, he finds himself growing antsy. Even as he talks to the others over the comm link, he finds himself becoming subconscious of everything he’s done up until this point, trying to figure out what he did to make you wear such an expression. Even if it was just a little thing, he can’t help but worry over it, especially considering what he’s here to do. The voices of the family fall into the background with automatic, lame responses leaving him as he falls deeper and deeper into his own thoughts. He’s usually so confident and sure, but with you he’s a mess and is suddenly worrying over all of the little things he didn’t think of before. Did he act too soon? Should he have tried to be more patient? Sure he was worried at the time, but if this was the consequence of those actions then they weren’t worth it at all. God, he knew he should’ve been more-

Then, suddenly, you step out of the diner, and all is right with the world. His head empties, and without even thinking about it, he turns his comm link off once again.

It’s just as he thought earlier. You made him soft, and undid even the worst parts of himself.

With you, it’s like nothing else mattered, and that the past was far behind him.

Yet, he failed to realize that it was only that. A feeling and nothing more.

[clangenrising]

Month 15 - Newleaf

Battle with Razor Pt. 9

Poppyblaze jumped from the stars and fell slowly, gracefully, down to the Parallel, and alighted above Darkmoon’s fresh grave. She squinted, sniffed around, and frowned. 

“Where did you go…?” she hummed to the night air. 

Starting out, she padded deeper into EarthClan’s forest, senses open to any traces of lingering spirits. Usually, Chestnutsprout tended the spirits of EarthClan, but Darkmoon had yet to appear in StarClan’s forest and, when Poppyblaze stopped to think about it, she hadn’t seen Chestnutsprout around either. Something wasn’t right. 

She wandered closer to the battlefield, listening to the rustling leaves and letting intuition guide her. If I were a lost spirit, where would I go? she thought. Often, spirits lingered around the place where they died, drawn to it even if their bodies were moved afterwards. Perhaps Darkmoon, the proud and determined deputy, was refusing to leave. Chestnutsprout had been even younger than she was when he died and had retained a very youthful personality. Poppyblaze could see him struggling to assert himself over a stubborn soul. 

The battlefield was empty now, blood soaked but empty. Luckily, mortal blood had no scent in the Parallel so, when Poppyblaze opened her mouth to scent, all she picked up on was the sharp smell of a soul. 

She padded towards it, sing-songing, “Hello?” A small voice squeaked frightfully from the bushes and she cocked her head towards it. 

A spectral squirrel poked its head out of the greenery and said in chitteri, “Oh, it’s you.” 

“Evening, Climber,” purred Poppyblaze, flopping down on her side to appear less threatening. 

The squirrel, Climber, twitched his glittering tail in annoyance and looked back into the undergrowth to say, “It’s alright, little one, this one’s harmless.” 

“A-are you sure?” said a faint little voice. 

“Harmless as a leaf,” Poppyblaze said in chitteri, “I guide the cat spirits, I don’t hunt.” 

“She’s in more danger of talking your ear off or smirking so hard she passes out,” grumbled Climber, clicking his teeth. A tiny little squirrel spirit emerged from the foliage, eyes wide, tail trembling. The poor thing couldn’t have been more than a few months old. Poppyblaze smiled but that didn’t seem to help at all.

“Do you need something,” asked Climber, squinting at her, “or are you terrifying my charge because you’re bored?” 

“Right, sorry,” chittered Poppyblaze. “I’m looking for a charge of mine who seems to have gone missing. You seen him?” 

“No,” Climber frowned. “I don’t loiter around in the Parallel like you hunters do.” 

“I don’t loiter,” laughed Poppyblaze, rolling onto her back. “I lounge.” 

Climber rolled his eyes. “Look, I’m quite busy so-”

“Did you hear that?” squealed the soul next to him, twisting around to look off into the trees. Poppyblaze perked her own ears and rolled back onto her belly to sit up, alert. Climber scrambled a few tail-lengths up the nearby tree trunk and scowled into the darkness, starry tail gleaming. 

“There’s definitely something,” he squawked, “It’s here, in the Parallel with us. I don’t like it.” He scrambled down and circled his charge protectively before scooping them up in his teeth and darting up a tiny, starry trail into the sky. 

Poppyblaze stood up and perked her ears but whatever was approaching had gone very quiet except for its wet, ragged breath. The fur on the back of her neck prickled nervously and she edged backward, away from the trees, just in case.

A moment later, a dark shape loomed out of the trees, treading straight through the foliage as if it weren’t there, something which any dead cat could do but which few did because the sensation was akin to walking through mud that could touch your insides as well as your outsides. The cat was a large and thickly furred blue tabby with ghostly pale eyes and an enormous, bloody gash in his throat that oozed thick, black blood and bile. Every so often a fat drop splattered onto the ground as he lumbered in her direction. 

“How,” the tom rasped and then coughed, black liquid seeping out from between the teeth on his lower jaw, “do I go back?” 

Poppyblaze narrowed her eyes and lunged at him with claws drawn. The spirit laughed, a mean, wet sound that sent blood pattering onto the ground, and surged forward to try and catch her in his teeth. His movements were sluggish and she easily danced around behind him to tear her claws through his form. Unlike flesh, a soul was easy to tear and she dragged her claws from his shoulder to his tail. The wound bled dark fog into the air. 

“There you go,” she smirked. “I think it’s time you dispersed.” 

“I killed the last two spirits,” hacked the tom as he turned to her, “but I’ll spare you if you tell me,” another wet cough, this one shaking loose some bile from the hole in his throat, “how to get back. If she did it, so can I.”

Poppyblaze’s smile died immediately. “Sorry. Cats like you don’t get to go back.” 

“I’m not supposed to survive a wound like this either, right?” he chuckled darkly. Poppyblaze glanced over at the wound and realized in horror that it had already started stitching itself back together. That definitely wasn’t normal. 

“Well aren’t you a special boy,” she said, backing up a few steps. “What’s your name?”

He trudged after her, laughing to himself. “This doesn’t have to get nasty, sweetheart. Just tell me what I want to know.” 

“Not my area of expertise,” she shrugged. “I deal with the cats who stay dead.” Crouching down, she waggled her hips to get ready for a sprint. 

“Then I guess I’ll have to kill you and see who comes looking,” snarled the spirit. 

Poppyblaze wasn’t going to let that happen. She sprang towards him and he reared up, teeth ready, but she flicked her tail and a barrier of starlight appeared before his face. He slammed into it just before she leapt off of it and onto another, higher platform. 

“Good luck with that!” she cried as she hurried upwards, making sure to dismiss the lower barriers before he could follow. The tom roared furiously and prowled beneath her, pale eyes burning with rage. She slipped into the Clouds, leaving the Parallel behind, and paused to catch her breath. 

This was not good.