#it was supposed to be just slap down some lines so I can actually get to the outfits and color pallate for once

[sleepyselkiesiren]

1C ebony or other oc

I'm starting to think this is just an excuse for me to get to draw my ocs XD Amber was the only one I could think of who would be willing to dress in something this revealing

The outfit meme was by @traulisms!

[desperate-gay]

jeez imagine Leah always catching you staring at her abs and then one day she’s teases you and lets you actually touch them

Abs

Leah Williamson x fem!reader

SMUT 18+

Saying you have a staring problem would be far from the truth.

Unless you are talking about admiring a certain someone, that someone being your very own teammate, Leah Williamson. It’s not like you purposefully stare at her, but what are you supposed to do when she is working out in a sports bra and glistening in sweat? Her abs are on full display, and who are you not to look? You’re only human.

Right now, you’re on the pitch practicing for the season coming up. You and your good friend, Katie McCabe, are doing simple passing and dribbling up and down the turf. A football goes flying past your feet from you being too distracted.

“Oi! What are you doing? We are doing the easy drills here, Y/l/n!” You blink to yourself and let out a big sigh, turning your attention back to the brunette. Subconsciously, you look back at the very thing that had you distracted in the first place. Katie follows your line of sight and sees Leah with her jersey lifted and wiping the sweat off her face. She looks back at you with an unimpressed look and smacks you on the head.

“Ow!’

“Get your head out of the gutter. You can thirst over your friend after practice.” She scolds while your cheeks begin to turn red from embarrassment.

“Okay, you’re right. I’ll race ya to the cooler!” Your feet get a head start, and you start running toward the chest that holds all the refreshing drinks, pushing Katie back to delay her speed.

“Oh no you don’t!”

—

Sadly, that isn’t the only time the Irish woman catches you gazing at the blonde. Arsenal just won the match against Liverpool. The team is all relieved but exhausted and just wants to head back to the hotel. All of you are getting changed in the locker room; some small conversations happening on the sides, but your eyes drift over to Leah. Fresh out of the shower, her wet hair lays over her shoulders and back, and most importantly, she’s shirtless.

Your head stays down, but your eyes still stay on her stomach. Her muscles flex with every little move she makes, making you clench your thighs. “Seriously? Again?” A voice startles you, causing you to let out an unintentional squeak. Leah looks over at the two of you and quirks an eyebrow. You smile at her and wave your hand, telling her it’s nothing.

Looking around, you make sure no one has their eyes on you before smacking Katie’s shoulder. She lets out a little ow and rubs the sore spot. “You can’t just scare me like that!”

“Well, I wouldn’t scare you if you were paying attention to your surroundings instead of looking at—” Her voice begins to rise, so you slap your hand over her mouth, glaring at her. She removes your hand from her mouth and puts her arms up in fake surrender.

—

The bus brings you back to the hotel room to stay the night, and everybody is assigned a roommate. You get roomed with Katie, Leah with Caitlin, Beth with Viv, and so on. Everyone heads to their designated rooms, but not you. Katie turns to you with her lip jutting out in a pout and pleading eyes.

“What do you want, Katie?”

She blinks her eyelashes consistently and finally asks, “Can you and Caitlin trade? Please?”

You look over to the Australian who is right next to her, also giving you a bit of a pout. Huffing, you offer your key card to the green-eyed girl, “Here.” Both of the girls smile and smush you in a hug. Caitlin hands you the opposite card, so you start to head to the room with your briefcase rolling beside you.

When you enter the room, the bathroom light is on with the door closed. Placing your briefcase by the front door, you make your way to one of the mattresses and flop down on your back.

“Oh, didn’t know you’d be in here.”

Surprised you didn’t hear the bathroom door squeak, you immediately sit up. “Katie and Caitlin wanted to room together, so we switched.”

“Are you saying you don’t want to room with me?” Your eyes widen, and your head shoots up. As you are about to defend yourself, you see a teasing smirk etch over Leah’s face, making the tension in your shoulders go away. She chuckles at your reaction while she turns her attention back to putting her clothes back in her bag. In all her glory, she stands with a Nike sports bra and a pair of basketball shorts on her body. “You do need to stop doing that.”

Your eyebrows furrow in confusion. “Huh?”

Her body turns towards you, and she crosses her arms over her chest. “You’re staring problem,” she continues to look over at you as your mouth opens a little. “If you think I haven’t noticed you on the pitch or in the locker room, you’re wrong.”

While you try and stutter a response, the smug look never leaves her face, and she slowly starts approaching you at the end of the mattress. Your eyes are looking everywhere but at her, and you blurt out, “I’m sorry!”

“Can you at least look at me?” Her tone is gentle, along with the soft smile on her face. In response to her question, you shake your head no. “Why not?”

“Because I’ll be distracted.” You mumble in embarrassment.

“Distracted by what exactly?”

“Don’t make me say it.”

Her pointer finger curls under your chin to lift your gaze at her. She bends down to your height and moves her face right in front of yours, both your noses almost touching. Her hands reach out and grab both of yours, placing them on her abs, making your face turn redder than a tomato. You retract your hands and move further up the bed. “No need to be shy, baby.” Leah crawls up towards you, making sure to leave a little space in case you get uncomfortable.

Your legs are stretched out in front of you, and your hands are placed on your lap. Leah places both her arms on each side of your feet and her knees sit on the end of the bed. You look down at her, her hair in a ponytail, biceps flexing, and abs still on display. “Leah, what are we doing?”

“Well, from the looks of it, we're sitting here staring at each other.” She jokes, which only gets her a look in return. “Okay… okay, you really want to know?” You nod at her, and she makes her way up and hovers over you. Your breath hitches when her nose brushes against yours and her breath fans against your face. She starts to lean in, looking at your lips, before pausing and directing her eyes back to your eyes. “Can I–”

One second she’s hovering over you, the next her lips are smashing into yours. Your hands are wrapped behind her neck, fingers threading through her hair, while her hands ground themselves at both sides of your head, holding her up. Your lips fit together like two puzzle pieces, and you never want to part, but unfortunately; both of you need to catch your breath. Leah is the first to separate the two of you, but not without leaving a nibble at your bottom lip.

Your hands trail down from her shoulder, to her chest, then finally down to her stomach. Her cocky attitude starts to make its way back over her body. Smirking down at you, she leans in to kiss your lips again. One of her arms replaces itself, so her forearm is now resting on the bed as her other glides down to the hem of your shirt. The cold feeling of her fingertips on your skin makes you gasp, allowing her tongue to snake its way into your mouth. Your tongues roll against each other, and you let out a small moan at the sensation.

Her lips make their way to your jaw and pepper down to your pulse point. She alternates between biting and licking over your sweet spot, leaving a red mark, and moving down just a little to repeat the process. “Leah,” she continues to suck on your skin, “Leah, the team will see.”

“So let them.”

You couldn’t even protest. The feeling of her skin on yours, her lips continuing to brush in the best places on your neck. It was surreal. You never thought this would happen; you thought you’d only be gazing at her from afar and that’s it.

The thoughts running through your head are soon interrupted by a particular rough bite. You hiss and dig your fingernails into her abs, causing Leah to let out a similar noise. She pulls away and tugs on your jumper, asking permission to take it off. You nod and sit up to help make it easier to slide off your torso. Without wasting any time, you grab her hand and place it on the strings of your pants.

“Please take them off.”

“Patience, darling.” She tuts, almost like she’s trying to make you explode.

Slowly, she pulls the strings of your sweatpants, untying them to get them looser. Her fingers grip the sides of your pants and pull them up to her, so your hips joist up, yours touching hers. While she begins to pull down your pants, she arches her neck down to kiss your lips again, diving her tongue into your mouth hungrily with no hesitation. Once your pants are off, she tosses them across the room and grabs your hips to flip positions.

Her hands slide from your hips down to your ass as she creates a slow, steady rock of your hips. Every so often, one of you pulls away to get a gasp of breath, and then you dive right back into each other.

Leah pulls back, her lips red and swollen. “Move up more, baby.”

Your eyes meet hers; her pupils are blown with lust. The movement of your hips stops for a moment. “What do you mean?” You gasp, still a little out of breath. Instead of telling you what she had in mind, her hands that remain on your ass pull you up, making you sit on her stomach. Before you have the chance to ask her why she moved you, her hand grips your neck and pulls you back down to attach your lips to hers. The other hand that remains on your behind encourages you to go back to rocking your hips back and forth.

The blonde flexes her abs, and right when you rock, it hits a pleasurable spot for you. She smiles into the kiss when you moan in her mouth. “You’re soaked, Y/n/n. I can feel how wet you are through your panties, baby.” Heat starts to rush up your neck, but not enough to stop the rhythm of your hips. Leah’s thumbs move to pull the elastic of the fabric that’s stopping her from fulfilling your needs. You lift your body, allowing her to pull them down to your ankles, so you can take them off yourself. “Come on, doll. Keep grinding, and maybe I’ll let you get off.”

You reach behind your back and unclip your bra, sliding it off your arms. She hugs your waist, pulling you in while you continue to slide your body up and down her stomach. The defender leans in, wrapping her lips around your nipple, and swirls her tongue around it. Between that and the continuous rub of your clit, you turn into a moaning mess.

“You’re doing so good for me, do you think I should reward you?” You nod your head, “I think I need more convincing than that, doll. I want you to beg.”

You’re quick to give her what she wants, desperate for a release. “Please, baby. I’ll do anything you want, just please give me your fingers.”

“That’s what you want? You want my fingers?”

“Mhm.”

Without warning, she grabs your waist and, once again, flips your position. She stands up and walks toward the end of the bed, leaving you with no time to react when she grips your ankles and yanks you down. Her hands massage up and down your thighs before she moves to place a kiss on your belly button. Your breath continues to race as you wait with anticipation for Leah to connect her lips where you need her the most.

She’s now down to your inner thigh, so she moves one of your legs onto her shoulder. With every other kiss, she leaves a hickey along with a praise. “You’re so gorgeous,” a kiss. “My good girl,” a bite. “Dripping for me,” a lick. You whine out of impatience, making her chuckle. “Impatient girl.”

Her tongue finally makes contact with your pussy, licking a long strip up to your clit. Your back arches, and you let out a booming moan, definitely bothering whoever is in the room next to yours. While her lips wrap around your bud, her right-hand makes its way to your core. She pushes her middle finger inside you while her tongue continues to lap around clit. It’s not long before she adds her ring finger, too.

The noises that escape your mouth make Leah feel like she’s on top of the damn world. Being able to please you so well, and also getting to do it with you. You, you feel like you’re on cloud 9. The dragging of her digits in and out of you while her mouth works magic on your clit made your head spin. She maneuvers her fingers around until she hits a specific spongey spot, which makes you let out a gasp mixed with a moan.

Leah lifts her head and continues to drag her digits in and out of you at a rapid pace. Removing your leg from on top of her, she moves up so she’s face to face with you. She gives you a mind-blowing kiss and moves over to your ear to whisper, “I know you’re close; I can feel you tighten around my fingers, baby. I want you to cum when I tell you to, okay?”

You manage to slip out an okay between ragged breaths. Her pace picks up, and her thumbs put pressure on your clit, making you feel like you’re body is going to implode if you don’t cum soon.

“Please, Leah. Please, I need to cum, baby. So, so badly!”

“Just a little longer.”

Your head snaps back on the bed as you moan and whine at the same time, “I don’t think I can wait any longer.”

“Go ahead, cum for me.”

The tightening in your stomach soon snaps, making your back arch and your eyes squeeze shut. The screams you let out are almost loud enough to worry the rooms next to you. Once your high begins to settle, your body shudders as your back returns to the bed. You move your hand to stop Leah’s strokes, overstimulated from the long wait.

She crawls her way up on top of your body and places kisses on the bruises forming on your neck. You pull her into your body, wrapping your hands around the back of her neck, guiding her lips to yours.

After a few more minutes of making out, you pull away, “You are really good in bed.”

“Really?” Her tone wasn’t insecure; it was the opposite. This was another trophy to add to her collection of reasons to be cocky. You roll your eyes and pull her back into a smiley kiss.

“Now, I think it’s only fair I repay the favor.”

“I won’t stop you, doll.”

—

“Aye, Leah. Seems like you had a good time last night,” Lotte wiggles her eyebrows and smirks towards the defender, “might need to request a room that’s soundproof next time.” Leah rolls her eyes and walks towards the buffet. Everyone starts asking questions about what the brunette is talking about, trying to nag more information out of her. “Well, our beautiful blonde friend here had someone over for some private exercises.” The smug look never leaves her face.

You bite your lip and pull your jumper further up your neck, so no one sees the colored marks on your skin. Katie sits right across from you, and you see her eyes go wide. She then darts her eyes towards Leah and then you. She opens her mouth and points toward you, confusing your teammates, who are startled by her. You abruptly stand up, heading towards her and grabbing her arm. “Katie forgot something in my room; we’ll be right back.” A fake smile plastered on your face as you drag her down the hall. You scan your key card and then push the Irish woman as quickly as you can before shutting the door and standing in front of it.

Meanwhile, the team sits in the lounge, confused as to what they just witnessed. No one even thought of you as an option since they assumed you were still rooming with Katie. “Okay, now what the hell was that about?” Beth asks out in the open for anyone to answer. Her girlfriend, Viv, just shrugs right next to her and continues biting into her breakfast. The rest of the girls reply with I don’t know, and head back to their conversations. “Leah, maybe you should go check on them.”

In response, Leah nods and heads towards your room. She felt relieved when Beth asked her to go check on you because she wanted to do it anyway but couldn’t without raising any suspicions. When she knocks on the door, it swiftly opens, and she gets yanked in by her arm. Before complaining, she looks and sees Katie at the end of one of the beds with an unreadable look on her face, while you stand right next to the taller blonde.

There’s a long silence in the room before it’s interrupted by Katie, “So, you two... are together?” She quirks an eyebrow, looking at the both of you.

You look at Leah for some help, but she’s just as baffled as you. “Well, we never really put a label on it.” Biting your lip, you look at the girl right next to you, making sure it is the right thing to say. She gives you a soft smile and a nod, before wrapping her arm around you and rubbing her hand up and down your arm. Katie silently nods before mumbling something incoherently.

“What was that?”

“I said about fucking time.” Katie cheers, lifting her arms in the air and letting them drop, which shocks both you and Leah. “I could not stand dealing with watching you drool over her,” she points at you, causing a smirk to form on the blonde's face right next to you, “and having to hear you talk about how breathtaking she looks all the time.” Your friend fake gags as you blush at the thought of your longtime crush gushing over you.

Leah clears her throat, “I’m glad we finally put you out of your misery, but you can not tell anyone yet. Please.” It was very rare if you ever heard Leah beg. The defender always had a reputation for getting what she wanted without having to look small, as she likes to call it.

Katie gasps and places her hand over her heart, “Did the Leah Williamson just say please?” You let out a quiet giggle, earning yourself a soft smack on the arm.

“Okay, you two, let’s not wind each other up. We just don’t want the rest of the team to make such a big deal out of anything right away; we’re just having our first date tonight. Unlike Miss Ego over here, I will beg you, so please, please, don’t tell anyone yet.” You put your hands together and place them in front of your face as a sign of mercy.

“Yeah, yeah, I won’t say anything.” You squeal and go to hug your friend. Leah comes over and pats her shoulder as a way of saying thank you.

“Okay, we better head back to the lobby before someone thinks one of us killed a person.”

—

After a few dates and making you guys official, you finally decided to tell the team. They were all stunned but so happy that there was another power couple in the group. If you thought the teasing from Katie alone was annoying, you were in for a big surprise.

It was team bonding night at Beth and Viv’s place, and you all decided to have a movie night together. Everyone picked little white strips out of a hat that had movie titles on them, so no one had to argue about what movies to watch. Both you and Leah are sitting on the floor with her back leaning against the couch, while you sit between her legs and your back against her chest. Her arms are wrapped tight around you, and a blanket covers the two of you.

“Aww, look at the love birds!” Lotte teases while Jen stands up and hugs herself, making kissing noises, causing the team all to laugh. Leah grabs the pillow closest to her and chucks it at Jen.

“Ouch!”

You smile and turn your head awkwardly to look at your girlfriend. Her facial features soften, and then she returns your loving gaze. She leans down, placing a soft kiss on your lips. Your right hand comes up and grabs her cheeks to lean her further towards you. You set multiple pecks on her lips, causing both of you to smile in the midst of them. Without your knowledge, Steph catches the sweet interaction between you two on camera and saves it.

That same video was used both when you guys told the fans and also on the day of your wedding.

[clockwayswrites]

Rumors of a Prince

“You could always ask Jason to pay her a visit,” Dick said from where he was lounging, mostly upside down, on the couch in Bruce’s study.

Bruce frowned at him. “I am not going to have Jason kill Vickie Vale.”

“Hey, you’re the one who said kill!” Dick held his hands up or, rather, given his position, down. “I just meant puts some fear into her. Maybe kidnap her for a few days so that she can’t write any more libel.”

Bruce found himself smiling, slightly and against his better judgment. It faded away when he looked back at his laptop. “At least in this case, it wouldn’t do much good. The stories is already out there and, unfortunately, Vale’s take on it has captured the public’s attention.”

“Tim knows I bet… and Babs.”

“Undoubtedly by now.”

“And if those two know, Steph knows. If Steph knows, she’s ranted to Cass.”

“Yes.” This family was impossible to keep things secret in.

“Welp,” Dick said and swung himself to be sitting up normally— or as normally as Dick ever sat. “Then I guess we better tell the others. How do you want to divide this?”

Bruce was grateful that Dick was willing to be his partner in this. “You would be best to take Jason. I’ll speak with Damian. Either of us can catch Duke when he returns from his patrol.”

Dick nodded. “And Tom?”

“I think perhaps it would be best to have as much of the family in the manor as possible,” Bruce said after a moment. “If he destabilizes, I want him to know that we are around and that he is still safe.”

“Alright.” Dick slapped his knees once and stood. “I’ll drag Jason back then. You know he’ll come if it’s for Tom.”

“Make sure he reads the article before he comes over.”

Dick grimaced. “Yeah. Yeah, that would be best. I’m going to bring some food too over with me. Good luck convincing Dami that he can’t go and stab Vickie Vale.”

Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose. “Right. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Dick chirped as he left for his task.

Bruce dropped his hand.

‘Gotham’s Pale Prince’ stared back at him from the screen.

-

“Seriously?!” Jason burst in through the kitchen door. “Have you read this swill?”

“Yes chum, of course I have,” Bruce said. He shot Dick, who trailing behind Jason’s fury, a look. Dick was supposed to get Jason to read the article before coming over.

Dick just shrugged helplessly and motioned in a way that conveyed Jason had read it and was still clearly quite upset.

“One of the biggest questions is,” Jason said, clearly reading now from the article with the air of Bristol accent he had put on, “perhaps, why the newest Wayne is not in school. Bruce has proven himself to be a champion of the educational system. This is despite the man himself being a college drop out’ like what the fuck?”

“To be fair, I am,” Bruce said.

Jason rolled his eyes and continued. “His oldest ward’— Dick is fucking adopted now, bitch!”

“Boo!” Steph echoed and tossed popcorn at the tablet Jason was holding.

(Bruce was neither sure when Stephanie had arrived nor where she got the popcorn.)

“Never going to college,” Jason said with a jab of his free hand, “and the second oldest never completing high school.’ I was dead you narrow minded shew!”

“Well, I mean, all she knows is that you were supposedly kidnapped by terrorists and tortured for years,” Dick said. He had moved over to help himself to Stephanie’s popcorn and paused raising the next handful to his face. “Okay, no, that’s actually worse.”

“And you are clear on your line that I cannot stab this woman for the dishonor she implies about the family?” Damian asked, again, as he joined them in the kitchen.

“Unfortunately we have to handle this the proper way, with a press conference,” Bruce said. Stabbing was looking increasingly appealing though.

Jason dropped into one of the open chairs. “I’d call it a battle of the wits, but I don’t think Vale has any left with this trash she’s writing!”

“Alright,” Tim said as he entered the kitchen with almost as much fury as Jason, just more contained. Cass followed in his wake. “I am sure that B has already run through no killing, no stabbing, no maiming, no poisoning—”

“No poisoning Vickie Vale,” Bruce said, feeling so tired.

“Way to go, Timbit, now we can’t poison her,” Jason groused.

Tim sighed, “Fair, I shouldn’t have assumed. I really thought someone else would have brought it up already.”

“People went for more bloody options,” Dick explained.

“Also fair,” Tim said, pointing at him. “Anyways, since we can’t do all that, can I ruin her reputation?”

“Tim,” Bruce sighed.

“Now come on old man, let’s here Timtam out,” Jason said, holding out his arm. “You said yourself we had to handle the proper way and I’m sure that our little socialite here knows just how to ruin her through something like a press conference.”

“You I can stab,” Tim said with a shark sharp smile towards Jason.

Jason returned it with a smile like broken glass. “You can try.”

“Oh, if you keep calling me a socialite I will try and I will manage.”

“Boys, please.”

“Are people threatening blood and violence again?”

Every head in the room swiveled towards the door to the hall.

Tom almost recoiled at the sudden attention of all of the family, taking a half step back and looking a little wide eyed.

Cass walked forward and wrapped her arm around Tom’s. “Tim is. To Jason.”

It took a moment for Tom to tear his eyes away from the family to look at his sister. “Of course. What’s… it about this time?”

“Jason is reminding Tim that he’s a rich society brat and Tim hates to be reminded about that even though it’s true because Tim is also a little freak and the upper crust would be applaud if they knew even a fraction of it,” Steph said before she stuffed his mouth full of more popcorn.

Everyone in the room paused for a moment.

“No, yep, I think that’s pretty much spot on,” Dick said. He wasn’t even pretending not to laugh.

The laughter was infectious and almost everyone was either snickering or outright laughing. Bruce even quirked up a little smile. Tom still looked mostly confused but at least less nervous.

“Come sit by me, little shadow,” Dick said with a smile.

When Thomas settled next to Dick, who immediately wrapped an arm around him, the room settled again into that slightly somber mood.

“What is going on?” Tom asked, voice small. There were times when he still seemed unsure if he could be a presence in a room or consternation. It was something that they were still working on as a family.

Bruce sighed. “A reporter found out about you and wrote an article with mostly speculation. Unfortunately, because of who I am in the city and my existing tendency to adopt, it’s getting attention.”

Tom chewed on his lip and Bruce just hoped he wouldn’t worry it so much it bled. “Bad?”

“Not bad towards you, but unkind. She made a lot of guesses and fact reasons about why the public hasn’t seen you,” Bruce explained.

“Oh. Am I…?”

The dropping of words wasn’t the best sign. Dick pulled Tom into his lap.

“No. Most of the children didn’t attend the press conference announcing them and you don’t have to either. But I will need to make one simply to clear up some of rumors. I wont say anything that you don’t want me to say.”

“Bruce and I can plan it out,” Tim said, “and then run it by you if you want to look over it.”

“Can… will… if anyone wants to help…”

“Of course!” Dick said cheerfully. “We can make a lunch of it or something. It will be the best press conference yet.”

“Yeah. And you don’t even have to watch it,” Jason said. “We’ll plan something fun for that day. The old man can go and do the hard work and we’ll enjoy ourselves.”

“Thank you, Jason,” Bruce said dryly, pretending he wasn’t warmed still whenever Jason refereed to him as anything approaching father.

“It’s what you deserve,” Jason said and tossed his tablet, cleared of the article, on the table. “Come on, let’s plan what we’re going to do.”

“The zoo is always enjoyable,” Damian said.

“You always say zoo,” Cass pointed out as she perched next to Jason.

“What about the park?” Steph suggested. She joined the others at the table and passed around her popcorn.

“Nah, Ivy has a new variety of tulips. I’m worried some of them might turn man eating again,” Dick said.

“We could head out of Gotham I guess,” Jason pointed out and pulled up the map.

Bruce slipped quietly out of the room with Tim on his heels.

“You can stay with them and help them plan,” Bruce offered. Tim was always too grownup, had been since before he came to Bruce.

Tim just shook his head. “I’m never the best distraction. I’ll be more use to you. Besides, I have some plans to run by you that doesn’t need the blood thirsty contingency hearing about.”

“Of course you do,” Bruce said with both a sigh and a smile.

“Nothing physical,” Tim defended himself. “I can ruin her legally.”

“That I have no doubt of.”

No matter what, Bruce had absolutely no doubt that the family would be there for Tom. They were a family, after all.

---

AN: Vickie Vale won't know what hit her. Esp after what she wrote.

Don't know if this will become a full sequel or not, but it was fun to revisit this universe and see how they've progressed!

[wandamaximoffsbadgirl]

Little Girl Gone

Been a While Since My Head Was This Polluted (3)

Mob Boss!Natasha x Mob Boss!Fem!Reader, Mommy!Wanda Maximoff x Mob Boss!Fem!Reader

Warnings: 18+ MDNI!, Starts with smut, some angst, and a lot of fluff. There are depictions of abuse (physical and s*xual) please read at your own caution, knife play, Dark!Daddy!Natasha, Nat has a dick, use of a whip, breeding, Nat doesn't give aftercare, Wanda does help with aftercare.

Word count: 3.3K

A/N: I normally don't write Nat like this, and it was actual hard given my own past, but in this story, Nat is the bad guy, unfortunately for her.

Your knees ached as a harsh slap came across your face, a wet pop as her cock fell out of your mouth leaving you gaping and drooling. You stared up at her, eyes hazy and glossy. You’d allowed yourself to fall into subspace just so you didn’t have to think about it anymore.

“I know you can do better than that slut.” Natasha growls, gripping your cheeks and pulling you back onto her cock. She holds the back of your head still while she pounds against your face, gagging and choking on her member as she hits the back of your throat. Drool falling onto your tits and lap. A different wetness pooling between your legs. 

You hated Natasha and how she treated you, you truly did, but still your body reacted like this because she had trained it to do so. As much as you tried to stop it she still held this power over you. You could tell she was getting close and as your braced yourself to take her load down your throat she pulled out. Looking up at her once again she looked down at you with anger as she gripped your hair, not giving you a chance as she started to pull you by your hair to the bed. 

The sensation burned against your scalp as you stumbled and struggled to keep up with Natasha as she threw you against the bed. You heard the familiar sound of her knife making your eyes widen.

“N-Nat-“ Her knife against your throat in an instant. Eyes wide and cold looking insane as she stared at you.

“That’s not my name.” She pushed the knife further against your throat; terrifying you.

“Daddy! Daddy! I’m sorry!” The knife was pulled back slightly as she smiled down at you.

“Good slut.” She let the knife scrap against your skin, not enough to cut just enough to leave raised red lines across your skin. It’s not like she had never actually cut into you, because she had and you still look at the scars everyday. 

“D-Daddy...c-can we not use the k-knife?” your voice wavers and she stops a moment before letting the knife dig in ever so slightly making you yelp in pain.

“You aren’t supposed to be thinking big thoughts right now.” She pulls away, letting the knife fall while she goes off to grab something. When you looked you noticed exactly what she had pulled out; a whip. Fumbling back slightly at the memories of her using that on you. “Stomach. Now.” When you hesitate she flip's you herself sending down a harsh impact which would definitely leave its mark as will all subsequent hits as she grabs your hips, pulling you towards the edge of the bed so she can plow into you. 

As her hips move at a painful force, stretching you out painfully as she continued the assault on your back you cried out, tears streaming down your face. 

“S-sorry Daddy...m’sorry....please Dadddy!” You mumble out the only coherent thing you can manage as she continues until she’s grunting and moaning over you. The whipping has stopped only to be replaced with her much cooler body against your hot back feeling a bit of relief until her mouth starts biting into your skin, leaving their own marks as you scream out.

“Mmmm love hearing your screams baby girl and those tears of yours are more beautiful than ever. Fuck you’re gonna make Daddy cum. You’re gonna take all of it like a good girl right? Daddy’s gonna fill you up and breed that pretty pussy till it’s all full.” She growled in your ear, biting along your neck.

“Yes Daddy! Daddy!”Was all you could manage in hopes that once this was over it would be over as you felt her fill you up and groaning. It had been so long since you had felt that as Natasha pulled your face to kiss you roughly as she continued to cum inside of you, biting her bottom lip roughly, tugging as you tasted her blood in your mouth. Smirking as you pulled away from her. Her blood in your mouth and dribbling down your chin. She was pissed off until she saw that look on your face and it turned into one of her seeming almost impressed.

“Ready for round 2?” She smirked and your face paled. You should have known Natasha was never satisfied with one round.

============================

You managed to stumble into your room, not even really noticing Wanda until she was at your side. Her words didn’t register at first since aftercare wasn’t something Natasha didn’t care for you were still trying to pull yourself together. Wanda gently pulled your face to meet hers as she took in all the marks she could see and you took her in. 

“Y/N did Natasha do this to you? Did she hurt you?” Wanda’s words finally becoming clear to you. Words were hard right now as you took Wanda gently by just her pointer finger, tugging gently back to the bed. Moving the book she had been reading out of the way as you got onto the bed and so did she. 

You looked at Wanda for a moment looking into her eyes and she cupped your swollen cheek. “Did she hurt you because of me?” You shook your head. Pushing lightly on her shoulder until she laid back and you gently and carefully cuddled up against her side. You let out a shaky sigh of relief as you breathed in Wanda’s scent of vanilla. As careful as Wanda tried to be with holding you recognizing that you needed it in this moment though every touch hurt it did still bring you comfort as you closed your eyes. 

Wanda starts singing softly, a lullaby, you assume at least since she’s singing in Russian which you’d recognize anywhere now. You’d only ever been yelled at in Russian, but Wanda made the harsh words that had normally been thrown at you so soft, you could almost fall asleep like this.

Eventually as you slowly come out of subspace thanks to Wanda you tighten your grip on her, looking up at her and she gives you a soft smile,

“Hi...welcome back dorogoya.” You give a small smile back.

“I’m sorry about that...”Wanda shakes her head.

“No don’t none of that. Whatever it is that you did you did an amazing job Dorogoya. You needed to rest a bit and that is perfectly okay. I’m here for you. You saved me and my boys so the least I can do is be your pillow while you come back to reality.” Wanda cups your cheek so gently, in a way that you aren’t used to and you’re half expecting a slap to come, but it doesn’t all Wanda does is gently rub circles with her thumb.

“Thank you then. I appreciate it.” 

“We still need to clean your wounds. I didn’t want to bother you before you were ready, but your shirt is sticking to you by blood. We need to wash your face too. Come on lets go to the bathroom. I saw the big first aid kit you have in there.” Wanda helps you up. “Come on Dorogoya. I’ve got you.” You almost forgot what it’s like to be doted on by a mom. 

She gets you to sit on the lip of the tub which is 1. Huge, and 2. Surrounded by its own ceramic tiling so sitting there wasn’t so dangerous. 

She helped get you out of your shirt and tank top which hurt immensely as the half dried blood stuck to the shirt, making the wounds all reopen. 

“Fuck.” You hissed as Wanda coos and soothes you back down. Getting a warm, damp towel for your back. You grip your hands into fists and cruse Natasha for this and then yourself for allowing it to happen. 

“What did she do?” Wanda asks trying to distract you.

“She agreed to leave you alone if I slept with her one last time.” You admit to the red head.

“And you said no that’s why you’re so beat up, right?” You don’t answer and you don’t dare look at her. You know you’ll break if you do. “Right, Y/N?” You shake your head. “What do you mean no?” She gently pulls your chin to look at her. “She did this to you while...” Wanda’s voice trails off when she sees the the tears welling up in your eyes. 

“I did this so it doesn’t happen to you. I won’t let her touch you. Ever.” Your hand finds her thigh and grips. “I promise. Even when you and the boys leave. I won’t let her. If she ever did....I’d kill her.” A heat rises in your chest, anger. You’d never been angry at anything Natasha did to you, but the thought of her doing those same things to Wanda? To the boys? Your blood boiled at the thought. 

“Y/N....dorogoya...” She cupped both your cheeks letting your foreheads rest against each others. “I don’t ever want to see you like this again because of her or anyone else for that matter. Seeing you walk in like that scared me. I was so worried especially seeing all that blood on you. I was so worried. I know you don’t want to see me like this, but I also don’t want to see you like this now that I have and I know how it makes me feel.” Wanda’s voice was breathy and full of emotion. Tears pricking at the corners of her eyes as her thumbs rubbed against your cheeks. 

“I’m sorry. I’ll be more careful. I promise.” You lean into one of her hands, closing your eyes as you move against it. 

“Thank you. Now let’s finish getting you all cleaned up.” Wanda smiles blinking away the tears as she starts working again. 

You couldn’t properly put into words how appreciative you were of Wanda taking care of you, giving you the after care you needed desperately in that moment.

As she bandaged you all up she helped you put on some loose and comfy pajamas already saying, ‘work is done for today. Carol can handle it.’ Which made you laugh as the two of you headed to the kitchen. 

=============================

“Oh I am so going to kick your ass!” You call out as you clicked a button letting the blue shell go hitting Tommy in game as you passed him and took first place. Jumping up and doing a little victory dance. 

“Y/N could you go easy on them? They’re children.” Wanda calls over her shoulder from the other side of the room where she was reading a comic.

“Sorry Wands Mario Kart is a cruel game and you must learn at a young age patawan.” You smirked at Tommy grabbing him in a hold and giving him a noogie as he tried to squirm away.

“I’m gonna win next time!” Tommy called out.

“You’re on little man.” You look over at Billy. “You want in on this round mister man?” Billy shook his head. He tended to not like competitive games and that was fine with you. 

You play a few more rounds with Tommy until he wins one and that’s enough for him before he’s whining over the couch, “Mom what’s for dinner?” He asks and Wanda looks up and at you.

“Why are you looking at me?” 

“Don’t you have cooks and maids? Shouldn’t you know what they’re making?” She asks and you shrug. 

“They cook what I ask them to. I don’t eat much so they always wait until I go and ask. They give me a few options and I either pick from them or I tell them what I want.” You look at the boys who have mischievous looks on their faces. “No you are not allowed to ask for desserts for dinner. Proper dinner boys!” You call after them as they rush out the door  and you hear them both go “Awww man...” You and Wanda share a laugh as she sets the comic down on the table and gets up. 

“Let’s go make sure they don’t bribe the cooks.” Wanda says as she walks past you. 

It’s been a week now since she’s been here. Natasha has left you both alone for the time being. Wanda hadn’t mentioned anything about wanting to leave, but after that night with Natasha she always hugged you before you left saying, ‘Be safe. We’re here waiting for you to come home safe.’ It warmed your heart to know Wanda was thinking of your house as home.

As the two of you walk down the long hallway to the kitchen your hands brush against each other. You notice Wanda pull back slightly with a blush on her face and you bite your lip before reaching out to hold her hand. Letting your fingers lace together. You look over at her and smile, she gives you a smile back. 

“Is this okay?” You ask.

“Yeah...this is okay...more than okay...” She reassures you, not letting go until you two are just at the kitchen’s threshold, the twins trying to convince the cooks to cook them some sweet treat filled dish that Wanda sighs and goes to put an end to it as you lean against the big kitchen island, watching the domestic moment, wanting to join in on it, but holding yourself back. 

“How about tendies and fries!?” You finally call out when the boys continue to try various ideas.

“Heck yeah!” Tommy calls out fist bumping the air.

“Yes! Can we do nuggets too?” Billy asks and you smile, walking over and ruffling his hair lovingly. 

“Of course mister man.” You smile at the boys and look at the cooks. “Tendies, nuggets, and fries tonight.” 

“Ma’am which kind of fries?” The head cook asks and you look at the boys.

“Curly.” Tommy says.

“Steak!” Billy overlaps with his brother.

“Shoestring.” You add after the boys and smile at the cooks before looking at Wanda. “Would you like anything sweetie or are you okay with the choices made?” Wanda smiles at you before requesting if she could cook her own dinner. “Of course you can sweetie. If that’s what you want to do. I’d love to try some of your cooking.” Wanda gives you a sweet smile before heading off with the cooks to see what was laying around as you watch her work while the boys run off to some fun corner of the house knowing they’d be called by one of the workers around the house once dinner was ready. 

Wanda pulled her hair back into a half up do with a bun and pulled her sleeves up while she pulled out different ingredients while she did so you felt the presence of someone behind you. 

When you looked you found Maya. The almost permeant scowl on her face was gone momentarily as you signed, “What’s got you smiling?” 

“Made a good deal. We can talk after dinner. Just wanted to let you know I was back safe.” She signed back putting a hand on your shoulder, but Maya knew you better as you stood and hugged her. With your back turned to Wanda you didn’t notice the look she gave the, to you, seemingly small act of affection you tended to hand out amongst your found family.

=============================

The two of you are on opposite sides of the bed, the overhead lights have long since been shut off, but your bedside lamps created a soft glow across the room and the only noises to be heard were your clicking of keys against your laptop, going over some documents that had been sent your way for review. Every so often the turning of a page from Wanda’s side. 

You pushed your blue light glasses up, rubbing your eyes and let out a yawn. You’d been at this for hours and felt like you barely made a dent since you had neglected them all weekend. 

“Y/N?” You hear Wanda’s voice carry through the quiet room, turning your head to look at the woman you some how found yourself sharing a bed with. She took you looking at her as enough to continue. “That woman who came home just before dinner, is she like your girlfriend or something?” She asks with such a confidence and even a hint of jealousy that it makes you reel back a bit before you can even respond to the older woman.

“No. That’s Maya, she runs things with me. We were both in similar situations where we were used by someone else and in wanting to prove ourselves now find ourselves in charge of our own families now.” You take the laptop, setting it aside as you move closer to Wanda. “Maya and I found each other at probably our lowest points and if it wasn’t for her I wouldn’t be where I am now. I owe her a great deal and vice versa, but there’s nothing between us. I’m just...I tend to remind everyone that it’s okay to still have emotions because Natasha tried to take that from me. She tried to take everything from me Wanda and I won’t let that happen to anyone I know. Everyone who follows me is allowed to feel whatever feelings they have. Anger, sadness, happiness, love...” 

You find your eyes flicking between Wanda’s eyes and her lips. How could you even begin to think of anyone besides her? Sure the two of you weren’t together, but you found yourself sharing a bed. She’d see you off in the mornings, she’d give you hugs and chaste kisses on the cheek upon your arrival home, she’d help clean your wounds. 

Wanda had wormed her way into your life in such a short time and she had you thinking about her constantly, you loved coming home where as you slipped off your shoes and suit jacket she’d round the corner to embrace you. Her warmth enveloping your whole being as her now familiar scent of vanilla bringing comfort to every fiber of your being. 

“Y/N?” Wanda’s voice brought you back, making you take notice of how close you had brought yourself. A red flush covering Wanda’s cheeks. Instinctively you reach out to cup her cheek. 

“How could I even think of wanting someone else when the most beautiful woman sleeps beside me every night?” You raise an eyebrow at her, your voice filled with confidence. You don’t think about it much before you let your lips connect. She’s so soft against your own as you feel her arms wrap around you, pulling you on top of her as she leans back. Your lips move against each other and you hear a soft moan from her. 

You pull back, making her chase your lips momentarily before she gives up with a whine. You smirked down at her, leaning back in to kiss her forehead. 

“If you want more you can have all the kisses you want.” You whisper against her forehead, she nuzzles against your cheek a smile playing on her lips. “If you want me that is...” 

“Of course I want you Y/N...why would you doubt that?” Her voice waivers a bit as you pull back to look her in the eyes.

“Wanda, I’m the head of a mafia family. My whole life screams nothing, but danger. You have two ten year old boys to take care of-“ You’re cut off by Wanda kissing you once more, your train of thought completely derailed.

“You said it yourself Y/N there is no safer place than with you.” Wanda reminded you of your words. You look into her green eyes finding nothing, but love in them, feeling her fingertips run over the scars on your back. 

She knows what’s she’s getting into. You know she does, and yet you are all she wants. There is no hesitation in her actions or words. So you have no choice but to let yourself fall into her.

[crazyoffher]

ALL I NEED.

jenna ortega x fem!reader

summary: a crew-mate’s lingering eyes on your secret girlfriend sends you into a jealous fit.

warnings: smut (18+) — oral + fingering (j receiving), short-lived dom!jenna + sub!r turned into dom!r + sub!jenna, jealousy, begging.

word amount: 3100+

a/n: idk how to feel about this

“Do you see the way he’s looking at her?” As you gaped at the sight of Jenna droning on about something to a crew member almost twice her age, you could only watch from a distance because Jenna was too engrossed in her conversation to notice that his eyes were lurching over her body.

“He looks like he’s about to take her right there, right now.” You slapped Mason’s chest, pushing him away slightly at the incline of his joke. He and Jasmin were the only two on the Scream cast who knew about your lingering “crush” on Jenna, and the fact that Jenna and Mason had a kiss scene coming up didn’t exactly help your nerves.

“If it helps, I’ll kiss her a second less than I’m supposed to.” You pushed him again, farther this time, and he only chuckled at you before gazing his eyes back at Jenna and the crew member, his name Brandon. “You can intervene on that.”

“Yeah, and how will I do that?”

He thought about it for a second, his eyes lighting up once he figured out an excuse for you to give, and you could only picture a lightbulb above his head as well. “Tell her that one of the producers needs her for some line changes!”

“And what do I do when I tell her that one of the producers isn’t actually looking for her?” That’s where you got him stumped, mouth gaping open before closing while in thought. His phone buzzed, and he eyed the message he received before shoving the phone down his pocket and turning to you. “I have to go to makeup for the next scene, but just get her away from him. He’s been staring for too long.”

He patted your back before heading out of the lounge room you were all in. You groaned, your feet trudging toward the two, and you could feel Brandon’s gaze of annoyance as he found you approaching him and Jenna.

“Hey, Jen.” You pronounced the nickname you had for her that you proclaimed nobody else could use, and Jenna would always giggle at the maintenance you had for the nickname.

“(Y/N), we’re actually in a pretty good conversation right now, so if you could just-”

“Well, I’ve come here to interrupt that conversation because one of the producers needs Jenna for line changes. My lady,” You held out your hand to her, bowing slightly, and she laughed at you, taking your hand before saying her goodbyes to Brandon. You tried your absolute hardest not to smirk at his vexed expression.

“Now, can I be honest with you?” You questioned Jenna. She turned to you with furrowed eyebrows and narrowed eyes, visibly confused. “Honest about?”

“Well, the producers don’t actually need you. I just needed to get you away from him.” You only looked forward, feeling that eye contact with Jenna would only make you feel uneasy, but all you got out of her was a giggle.

“I’ve told you countless times, baby, you don’t need to be jealous of anybody. Don’t think I’m oblivious to the way he looks at me.” She halted you, encircling your waist with her arms while resting her chin on your chest and peering up at you.

“Then why do you allow him to look at you like that?” You unraveled her arms from your waist with a hint of spite in your eyes. Jenna didn’t remove her chin from your chest, though, and instead raveled her arms around your shoulders, shooting back, “Why do you allow everyone to think that you only have a crush on me instead of the real truth?”

“For your own sake. You said it yourself; you aren’t comfortable yet with people knowing about us. So much, considering you like to be risky.” You looked up and down the hall you were in, empty but accessible to anybody who could catch you and Jenna in the position that you were in, faces only inches away from kissing.

“I said I didn’t want the public to know; I never said anything about our friends.”

You scoffed and tried to push her away, but her grip on you only tightened. “Please, Mason can’t keep a secret if his life depended on it, and if Brandon found out, he would probably out us because of his own jealousy, even if anybody were to actually believe him.”

Basking in your clear jealousy, Jenna’s fingers tapped against the back of your neck. It sent shivers down your spine; goosebumps rose, and all you could do was gaze down at her as you anticipated her reply. “You’re jealous, and I love it when you’re jealous, though for all the wrong reasons.”

You could only allow her to control you, one hand slithering from your neck to grab your hand, guiding it from her chest down to her hips, stopping just below an area you’ve grown to know as sensitive to your touch.

You groaned. “You asshole,” and with that, you pulled her back by her shoulders into a room that stood behind where the two of you had formerly been, reaching behind Jenna to turn the knob of the door and pushing her into the room. With your foot, you shut the door closed with a bang, your thumb and index fingers grazing the lock to turn it over.

The small room, littered with only a couch, television, and desk, was to be used for actors to go over their lines in solitude if they didn’t find their trailers compatible enough due to outside commotion. You’d be lying if you said you and Jenna hadn’t used the couch for more adult-like themes (and maybe the desk), and you remembered holding back snickers when one of the producers texted the cast group chat, asking whoever was using the room for “inappropriate reasons”, that they would stop.

Immediately, you rushed forward, Jenna’s body colliding with yours with the same goal in mind. Your lips met hers, hands hooking around her waist as you drove your hips into hers with no patience in your strut. She gasped at the feeling of your clothed core raking against hers, your tongue traveling all around her mouth, lips pulling away with a pop but not before you clenched your teeth into her bottom lip, drawing blood.

Jenna sighed in contentment as your lips met her neck, turning the both of you around so that you could sit on the couch, pulling Jenna by her back to sit on your lap with your lips never leaving their place. “I think I need to get you jealous more often.”

“You do that, and I’ll start edging you.” Your lips traveled around her neck, littering her with small hickeys that the makeup crew were going to have a field day covering up. Your lips met her pulse point, drawing a breathy moan out of Jenna. When you started sucking on that area, her hands moved to your chest, grabbing your button-up shirt and pulling it out of your pants, ripping it open, and causing a button or two to fly off the garment. She groaned at the sight of you left in just a white tank top, your breasts pushing up in her direction.

In the scene you had filmed not too long ago, the set took place at a party, your character dressed as an 1800’s businessman for whatever reason, and Jenna’s character was a pirate, leaving her in fishnet stocking and jean shorts that rode up whenever she sat down.

You removed your lips from her neck, replacing her hands with yours, and pushed yourself up to remove the shirt from your body. You caught the eye of a button when you were going to throw the collared shirt on the floor. “You ripped off a button!”

“So?” Jenna’s lips met yours again; her tongue shoved into your mouth while her hands raked from your stomach to your breasts, palming at them through the tank top’s fabrication, blocking her access to the two things she loved the most.

You pulled away from her, tugging at Jenna’s shirt and yanking it over her head, her pirate’s bandana coming off in the process. “You want our relationship to be secret, but you don’t even know the definition of it. Hickeys on your neck, popped buttons on my shirt, and you’re not expecting the crew to get a whiff of what’s going on?”

“Then let them,” her hips bucked at the feeling of your cold hands slithering under her bra, wasting no time in feeling all around her as your fingers clipped onto her nipples, tugging at them and releasing a groan out of Jenna, “let them know that you’re all mine.”

“You know just as well as I do that you don’t mean that.” You removed your hands from their position, placing them on her ass and pulling her up with you before dropping her back on the couch.

You kneeled in her presence, hands gripping her knees as you widened the space in between her legs, her shorts riding up, exposing her tan thighs covered by the stockings. You removed her shorts, unbuttoning them at a fast pace before sliding them off, tugging off her shoes as well in the process. 

You ran your hands through her smooth skin, taking in the sight of Jenna’s perfectly-shaped thighs covered by the stockings, and you’d be lying if you said your mouth didn’t water at the sight. Driving in the sight once more, you moved your hand up to her hip, grabbing the hem of the stockings and taking them off of her, leaving her bottom half in only her underwear. You smirked at the wet patch that sat in the middle of the cloth, your fingers tapping at her thighs.

“Baby, it’s only you thinking that it’s because I’m—oh, shit.” You hushed Jenna by pushing your index finger against her clit, circling the sensitive nub painfully slowly, the friction from her underwear only building up her urge to take you right there and then. “You were saying?

Your head dipped down between Jenna’s legs, moving away from where she needed you the most to kiss and nip at her inner thighs. Your hands moved from their position on her knees, replacing themselves around her thighs and rubbing up and down as you licked at the reddening bite marks you had imbedded into her skin.

“Since you want to be such a bitch,” you moved Jenna’s underwear only slightly, tongue licking at the outline of her cunt, causing her to buck her hips up, “and try to make me jealous with fucking Brandon,” you slid two fingers under the wettening cloth, fingers trailing over her folds, and Jenna gripped the couch with impatience, “then fucking beg for it.”

Her mind completely disregarded your hand in her panties, and her head flew down to meet your gaze. “What?” Despite being possessive and rough, per Jenna’s own needs, in almost all the times you and Jenna had engaged sexually, you never took it to the next level. Until now.

“I know you’re not deaf, Jen. Beg for it.” You repeated, head maneuvering so your nose was brushing against her clothed clit while you spoke in cold breaths, watching Jenna’s thighs clench and unclench at the breeze. You could feel Jenna’s hand slither into your hair, digging her nails into the follicles to try and pull you closer to her, but your head didn’t budge.

You grabbed her hand, pinning it down along with her other hand that was approaching your scalp as well, keeping them tightly still at her sides. You stuck out your tongue, flexing it into a more narrow shape before licking the fabrication that kept Jenna sealed. You flicked one, two, then three kitten-like licks at her nub, urgently removing your hands from her wrists and pinning down her hips that bucked their way up into your face, trying to get a pleasurable sensation but to no use. “I’m not giving you shit until I hear you whine how bad you want this.”

Jenna moved to speak, breathing unevenly, but her words never vocalized themselves because you moved her panties more to the side with your right hand, running your index finger down her throbbing cunt, then back up, all while you watched her facial expressions change at each movement. “Please, (Y/N).”

“Please what?” Your finger stroked itself down her cunt again, this time stopping where you could feel her hole pulse under your touch. She whined, her hips desperately trying to push down into your finger, but your left hand still held a firm grip on her bony frame, your hand pushing down the right side of her hip and your elbow pushing down the left side. “I’m not going to do anything that can remotely get you off until you tell me what you want.”

“Just fuck me!” She groaned out, her face heating up hotter than ever as she caught sight of you staring back at her with such an innocent glint in your eyes. Such innocent eyes could fool anybody unless they saw what you were doing to Jenna, using your approach to somehow make the situation much direr. 

“Fuck me as hard as you can. Please, god, I just want to feel you.” Her whines were loud, letting you know that the producers awareness of such dirty nonsense going on in the room told you that you weren’t at fault, but instead Jenna’s unawareness of how loud she was.

You purred into her center. “There you go, sweetheart.” Your middle finger pushed against your index finger, inserting the two digits into her core. Jenna let out a low groan, basking in the relief of what you had just made her wait for, even if it was her own fault. She’d never blame herself for a halt on her pleasure, even if it was her own fault, and she’d make more than sure to get you back for your teasing later.

You pumped your fingers, letting Jenna get used to the feeling while gradually moving faster to get her going. As you sped up, Jenna’s face morphed into expressions that you could cum from just looking at, letting your mind get to you as you found yourself subconsciously thrusting your hips into the space between Jenna’s legs on the couch.

You stopped your hip movement, eyeing Jenna to see her head sprawled back, mouth agape, and letting out a loud moan when your lips met her clit. Sucking feverishly, you bit down on the sensitive nub to send her a warning, seeing as she managed to roll her hips around your mouth despite your tough grip on her. “Don’t,” was all you muttered before sucking on her clit again, Jenna whining at the vibrations your word sent throughout her cunt.

Jenna could feel the coil in her stomach starting to tighten, the pleasure becoming more unbearable while you attacked her cunt, mouth and tongue swirling and sucking around her clit and two fingers pumping in and out of her. You bit down on her clit again, causing a moan to erupt from her. Jenna’s hands rode up her stomach and up to her chest to palm at her own breasts, eyes shutting at the pleasure build-up, finding herself closer to releasing.

You noticed this; your attack on her clit the same, but you switched up your finger movement, shoving them into her knuckle-deep and curling them, pumping them in and out a couple times before locating her g-spot. You pushed into it, making her yell out your name along with a squeaking whimper. “Fuck! Go faster!”

You did just that, keeping your fingers curled as you grazed her g-spot continuously, her knuckles white, still gripping onto her breasts that were bound to be littered with small bruises soon. “Fuck, I think I’m gonna cum.”

You only hummed, sucking Jenna’s nub harder and watching her body start to twitch, hands leaving their death grip on her breasts to bury in your hair, pulling you into her deeper. “Ugh, don’t stop! I’m gonna-” and with a low moan of your name, the coil in her stomach snapped, her body jolting from her orgasm. You slowed your fingers, uncurling them, and after she had calmed down, pulled them out and gazed at your fingers covered in her slick.

Calmed down from your former jealous rage, you stood up, kneeling over Jenna’s panting frame on the couch to engulf her in a kiss that she immediately reciprocated, her hands flying up to cup your cheeks. Without a word, you took your index finger and put it up to Jenna’s lips, mouth parting without a second thought and you stuck your finger in, mentally groaning at the sensation of her tongue swirling all around your fingers in desperation to taste her own cum.

Popping your finger out of Jenna’s mouth, your eyes never faltered from hers as you stuck your middle finger into your mouth, fighting to roll your eyes back at the taste of her. 

Once more, you two met in a kiss, her arms wrapping around your shoulders to pull you deeper, a goal to pleasure you just as much lingering in her mind.

You felt a buzz at your knee, startling you, and you pulled away from Jenna. “What the-” You moved your knee to the side, Jenna’s phone revealing itself to be the culprit of the odd vibrations. She picked it up, her eyes widening slightly at the messages that littered her phone from the cast group chat, letting her know that shooting was supposed to continue about five minutes earlier, but they couldn’t shoot without Jenna herself.

“Oh shit.” She sighed, and you skimmed the messages from the angle you found yourself in, getting the memo that she needed to leave. You stood up straight, gathering Jenna’s clothes off the floor as she stood up and stretched, trying her hardest to fix her hair before retying her pirate’s bandana.

Once she got dressed, she pulled you in for one last kiss, murmuring in your ear, “I’ll deal with you later,” before heading for the door.

“Jenna?” She halted, turning to face you at the call of her name, the doorknob in her hand. “Yeah?”

“You might want to stop by the makeup crew.” You pointed to her neck, reminding her that she was covered with hickeys, some larger than the others.

Feeling her neck, she winced at the multiple bruisings that littered her, giving you a glare before heading out. “Asshole.”

☟ ☟ ☟

taglist (so far): @grandpatrolnut @jennas-10 @annalestern @yara124 @daryldixonsw1fe

[dollfacefantasy]

hi! 🙂 i was wondering if i could request something with kento nanami spanking reader? i don’t have any specific plot in mind, it could just be straight up porn lol! with daddy kink included? thank you! 💗

mhm mhm cause nanami is just so brat tamer daddy like 😵‍💫😵‍💫

kento nanami x fem!reader

cw: nsfw (18+), spanking, daddy kink

Another smack echoes between the walls of your bedroom when your fiancé's hand collides with your ass again. A whine follows it and you squirm a little over his thighs. You'd only gotten a few lashes so far, but Kento knew what he was doing. He knew where to hit and how hard.

"Count," he states flatly, paying your whimpers no mind.

"T-three," you stutter out.

"Good."

Again, his response comes out simple and curt. Technically it was a word of praise, but it didn't feel like one. When Kento really praised you, there was no doubt of his intention. It came out as a coo with an affectionate touch to accompany it. Right now, the only touch you got was another spank.

"Ow," you whine. Your bottom lip puffs out in a signal of your displeasure.

His own mouth remains in a thin, flat line. His palm comes down on you again, leaving your skin stinging.

"No pouting, little brat," he chides, "You were being so bad earlier it must be what you wanted."

"I wasn't being bad," you huff.

That earns you an even harder slap.

"Well you are right now because I know you know better than to talk back," he says.

In truth, you had been trying to rile your boyfriend up earlier. The two of you had been out with some of his friends. You were bored since most of the conversation didn't involve you, so you tried playing with Kento a bit. Brushing your hand over his lap beneath the table, dragging your foot up his calf, giving him your best fuck-me eyes.

"Keep it up and you won't be sitting comfortably for the next few days," he'd said to you under his breath. But you didn't heed the warning.

It reached the boiling point when his friend Satoru noticed how tense he was and cracked a little joke about it. Less than ten minutes later, he excused the two of you and practically dragged you by your arm back to the apartment.

"I'm sorry, daddy," you whimper.

"I'm sure you are now that you're being punished," he says. His hand rains down on your backside in rapid succession, striking the center hard and fast.

Your eyes screw shut, and you kick your feet at the pain. More squeaks of discomfort fall from your lips. Your thighs shift against each other too as arousal blooms in your belly. He gives your hips a rough yank to secure you in the position he wants.

"If you keep thrashing like that, I'll have to move onto something more severe. Maybe you're wanting the belt," he says, letting the threat hang in the air.

Your head hangs forward, and you make a noise that's a mix between whining and sighing.

"I'm actually really sorry, daddy. I'm sorry for back talking and being bad around your friends. I don't know what else you want me to say," you plead.

"All I want is for you to learn your lesson," he says, "How many times have I had to put you over my knee for the same reasons? You can say your sorry all you want, but you're staying like this until I feel I've gotten it through your head."

"That could be like forever," you complain.

Kento smirks a little at the remark, but he doesn't let you know it amused him. He continues to smack your ass, relishing the way you fight to keep still.

"I've learned," you mewl as your resistance comes out in little twitches. You were getting antsy now not only from your aching cheeks but also from the increasingly intense throbbing between your legs.

"That's what you said last time," he says.

"But I actually have this time," you defend, "I know I'm not supposed to be like that around your friends. I just wanted my daddy's attention."

"That's always what you want, baby, but what has daddy taught you? What's the rule?" he asks.

"I have to be patient," you whimper, "I have to wait till daddy gives me permission to touch."

"That's right," he says. He takes a break from spanking you to soothingly rub your burning skin. "I know you can be a good girl. You choose not to be. That is what I have to train out of you."

"I'm gonna be good after this. I promise," you assure.

"Are you sure? Because you know you won't get to cum for a month if you break a promise," he taunts while gently kneading your battered cheeks.

You bite your lip before revising your statement. "Ok maybe not promise, but I'll still try super hard."

"Alright, I'll accept that," he says, "Since you're so committed to being good now, only fifteen more, and I'll let you up."

"Fifteen?" you whine incredulously.

"Yes, fifteen. And I don't want to hear anything about it. I'm already being lenient with your half-promise. Don't make me change my mind," he says.

Your head hangs again and you huff, but you don't say anything. His hand spanks you first on your right cheek and then on your left. You then get a few towards the center for good measure. You count out each one like the good girl you're trying to convince him you are.

His eyes flit between your head and your backside. He can tell the pain is starting to build up for you by the way you're shifting. Your noises are getting higher pitched too. He can almost hear the tears starting to brim your waterline.

After another round of spanking, you finally whimper out the last number just as a few tears slip down your cheeks. His hand goes back to rubbing your skin a few times before he flips you over and cradles you to his chest.

"That's my girl. You took that so well," he murmurs and kisses your forehead.

"Thank you, daddy," you sniffle and look up at him with your tearful eyes.

He nods and brings his fingers up to swipe away your tears. His thumb glides down your jaw and then slips between your lips. He watches you gently suck on it for a moment before he slides it out and leans in to kiss you. When he pulls back, he looks down at you.

"I'm proud of you, sweetheart. Let's just see if you can remember your lesson this time, hm?" he says softly as he boosts you to your feet and squeezes your hips, "We'll get you cleaned up and then maybe, I'll try to use my hands to help you feel better. Only if you can keep being good."

[wolfiesmoon]

A day to remember

Inumaki x gn!reader

this is a request!! thank u so much for requesting💗anyways time for jujutsu tech prom hehe😌 (lets pretend prom is a thing in japan and that there's actually enough students to do a cute thing like this lmaoo)

also since this is a prom fic, the second years are now third years and the first years are second years

@noomon one tag for uuuuu

The atmosphere was oddly lovey-dovey at Jujutsu Tech recently. Prom was just around the corner, so it wasn't exactly odd that spirits were high, but considering the usually grim faces that you see in the halls of the school, it does feel strange to see everyone so excited.

Then again, you suppose it is better to make the most of every day as a sorcerer and little joys like this are precisely what make all the death and injury worth it.

But, on the topic of prom... You don't know who to go with! You might just end up skipping out or going alone if you must (Gojo will probably force you to go). After all, prom isn't all about dancing with a guy and romantic stuff, it's about having fun with your friends and laughing at the memories you made as students of this school.

Or, well, for this kind of school, maybe some of the memories are better forgotten.

"Hey, senpai!" you heard a familiar voice behind you. It was Yuuji and Nobara! They often come to talk to you about random things so you aren't at all surprised to see them.

"Hello." you greet them, wondering what crazy story they'll tell you today.

"Do you already have a date for prom?" Yuuji and Nobara beamed.

"Do I- No, no I don't." that's the question you were expecting the least. Why are they asking you this anyways?

"Great." Nobara huffed, very satisfied with your answer. Yuuji seemed even more excited than before. You had little question marks floating above your head.

"Why are you happy about me being single? Are you two trying to tell me something?" your eyebrows furrowed slighly. But then again, Nobara and Yuuji are idiots (affectionately), so you don't think they're seriously trying to insult you.

"Oh, actually, it's because-"

Nobara slapped a hand over Yuuji's mouth before he could continue his sentence. "It's nothing, don't worry about it." she smiled at you, dragging Yuuji away and muttering something you couldn't quite catch.

Huh. How strange.

But now that you think about it, there is one person you'd really like to go to prom with.

.

The next day, Panda approaches you after class.

"Hey, you should like, totally follow after me right now. I have something to show you." Panda suggested cheerfully. And why not? Knowing Panda, he probably just has something funny or stupid to show you, which is always a pleasure.

As you followed him, a strange feeling started rising up inside you. You felt oddly fidgety and excited. Maybe it was the whole prom thing. I mean, with the strange conversation you had with the second years just yesterday is it that much of a stretch to assume that you're about to get confessed to via a prom invitation?

Nah, you shouldn't get ahead of yourself. If anything, Panda's going to let you in on someone else's promposal plan so you can help them out. Not that that's a bad thing, you just really get your hopes up sometimes.

You were being lead down a dimly lit hallway in one of the more secluded areas of the school. There was even candles here and there, to set the mood, you assume. Wow, this is really a last minute invitation. They're asking you to help out at the last possible moment, huh?

You soon found yourself in front of a group of students, all lined up to make a little walkway for you and Panda. Panda stops right at the end of the line, motioning for you to continue walking. All the other third years lined up were smiling knowingly at you. What in the world is going on?

You walked down the line of students a bit hesitantly, taking the flowers each of them handed you along the way. Oh wow, this is impressive. And also definitely means that this promposal is meant for you. You can feel your heart start beating faster with excitement when taking each rose into your hands.

Who orchestrated a confession so grand? Please be him...

Nobara handed you a rose when you walked by her, smiling proudly at you. Now the question from yesterday makes perfect sense.

At the end of the line of students, you saw a few of your classmates holding up signs that said "I know I'm not a man of many words, but I really need you to kelp me out here. It's almost prom night and you're still not together with me (which is criminal in my opinion). This isn't just a prom invitation, by the way. Will you go out with me tunaight?"

There's only one person that could have written those signs. Not just because of the familiar handwriting, but also because of the words he chose. And sure enough, Inumaki Toge was proudly holding up the middle sign, looking at you.

You clutched the makeshift boquet of roses in your hand. It was him after all.

In all three years of your schooling at JJT, you've found Inumaki Toge to be especially charming. You had a bit of trouble talking to him at first, but you quickly got along after you bridged the whole "onigiri ingredient" gap. Honestly, you don't know how long it's been since you felt... a special way about him.

It took you a while to realise, but you definitely like him. More than a friend.

And knowing it's mutual...

He looked at you with such hope in his eyes that it made you want to hug him and kiss him all over. And so you did.

The sign he was holding fell to the ground as you embraced him tightly and he immediately hugged you back, as if it were the most natural thing in the world to him. As if that is the place where you belong.

"Yes, yes, I'll go to prom with you!" you yelled happily, leading everyone around you to cheer. You didn't really notice it because you were busy kissing Inumaki's cheeks, but all the other third years looked satisfied, knowing their ship has sailed at long last.

"But bad onigiri ingredient puns, really? I'm feeling the second hand embarrasment real hard right now." your face scrunched up slightly, cringing.

He simply giggled quietly in response, squeezing you again.

You can't deny, that is so him.

[queers-gambit]

Alpine

prompt: in an effort to help your boyfriend with his trauma, you rescue a furry feline together - a white cat named, Alpine - who rescues you both in return.

pairing: Bucky Barnes x female!Widow!reader

fandom masterlist: Marvel

word count: 6.9k+

note: been seeing a lot of Alpine recently and got inspired.

second note: no, it's not comic / canon compliant so just have fun. author did some research but there's not a LOT written / known about Alpine, so, again, just have fun!

warnings: post Endgame, pre tfaws; cursing, Lord's name in vain, small angst, mostly hurt and comfort, Nick Fury calling reader a bitch playfully, Bucky's trauma responses, small spoilers, Dr. Raynor / therapy.

other works with Widow!reader and Bucky NOT necessary to read

read here: Damage Done

"Are you angry with me?"

"No."

"Disappointed? Annoyed? Frustrated?"

"No, doll."

"Then why won't you talk to me!?"

"Nothing to say."

You wiped a hand down your face, lifting it only to pinch the bridge of your nose. Your head shook to shake away your thoughts, sniffling emotion, sighing when you dropped your hand to slap against your thigh. "I'm really trying here, Bucky, I swear to you, I am. But I can't help if you don't talk to me," you softened your voice, beginning to understand this was a losing battle.

"I never said I needed help."

"You never have to ask me for help, Bucky, I just give it because I want to! Because I love you! That's part of being in a relationship!"

"Maybe I don't want it!" Your boyfriend snapped, rounding on you with unfiltered emotion in his eyes. The horrors swam in his baby blues, vivid memories he was unable to escape haunting him, terrorizing him; creating a shell of a man who could no longer hide his avid pain. "Did you ever think about that? Ever consider that I don't want your help because I don't need it?"

"Everyone needs help sometimes, Buck."

"No, not everyone - I'm not one of your pet projects, you don't get to treat me like a broken thing that needs fixed! I certainly don't need your pity - not yours."

"I don't pity you! Fuck's sake, Bucky, I love you and want to see you heal. I know you better than anyone - "

"You don't," he sneered, cutting you off. "You don't know me, not really, not as well as Steve - "

"Oh, for fuck's sake, Steve isn't here! He's not coming back!" You snapped, instantly regretting it when Bucky's eyes coated with glassy emotion he fought vehemently to keep down. "I-I'm sorry, that was - that was really mean of me and totally out of line," you apologized, both sighing deeply. "All right, look, let's just talk this out, please."

"There's nothing to say."

Your hip cocked, arms crossing, "She called me, you know."

"Who?"

"Dr. Raynor."

"Fuck's sake," he growled. "Why would she do that?"

"Maybe because today's session was, apparently, supposed to be a couples session. She thought I was refusing, called to say I was impeding on your progress and if I want to help you, I'd have to show up to your appointments. Which is really funny because you never told me about today, so I had no idea what the hell she was talking about - but that didn't stop her from tearing me a new asshole!"

He frowned, avoiding your eyes. "I didn't need a couples session. Not today, I just - I wanted today to focus on other shit."

"And I can respect that, but you're not doing yourself any favors by hiding shit from me. To get the best results from therapy, you have to actually do the work, and not just do what Dr. Raynor says, but actually listen to her advice - "

"I don't need you on my back about this, Raynor does that enough for you both," Bucky growled. "I do the fucking work - I'm the one in that room, I'm the one applying silly little rules to my life - "

"Obviously not if you didn't even tell me Raynor requested my attendance! You should've told me, and then you should've said you weren't ready! I would've respected that, but I can't do a Goddamn thing if you don't talk to me!"

His jaw flexed as he clenched his teeth, skin twitching and distinct muscles tightening. "Like I said, there's nothing to talk about," he practically spat, shaking his head at you before grabbing his sneakers from the closet.

You didn't mean to sound harsh, but demanded, "Where are you going? We're in the middle of a conversation."

"No, we're not, 'cause I'm ending it," he scoffed, sitting on the corner of your shared mattress, exchanged his shoes. "And I'm going for a run, need to clear my head."

You shook your head before leaving the bedroom, "Absolutely unbelievable."

Bucky left your shared apartment a few minutes later, somewhere you've only lived five months - the time it's been since Tony Stark, Iron Man, snapped the other half of living beings back into existence. He lost his life in return, the ultimate sacrifice, but he managed to reverse the damage Thanos created five years prior. Five months of living in this apartment without a lick of warmth, personal touch, or real sentiment; it being dreary, dark, and mostly empty. Hell, Bucky didn't even feel comfortable in bed, so he camped in the barren living room, giving visual to the way your relationship was beginning to fray, unravel, crack.

He didn't want anything personal in your apartment - thinking it was ridiculous to settle down after all you two have endured, witnessed, and fought for. You agreed to keep things at the bare minimum, only stocking what was necessary, knowing this was part of his healing process and didn't want to drum-up further anxiety. It made everything impersonal, boring, bland, and down right depressing - but it was a small accommodation you could provide your lover.

You hated the distance. Hated how alone Bucky felt after Steve. Hated how reclusive he became, the anger he projected. Hated how no matter what you did, you weren't enough - not this time. For years, you've loved him despite his flaws, his brainwashing, his trauma responses, but whatever he was enduring now was something you weren't equipped to handle. Didn't mean you weren't willing to try, but Bucky was the one pushing you away; thinking his demons were his sole responsibility, never letting you be the pillar that helped support him. God, you hated the distance.

You left the apartment, too. Nick Fury had employed you for creative, solo, high profile missions; wanting to utilize your Widow training, especially now that Natasha Romanoff was deceased. And you wanna know what? Bucky hadn't even asked about her, never tried to offer comfort, only quietly attending the funeral service you hosted with the remaining Avengers to give her a proper sendoff - despite there being no body. Bucky knew you and Nat were as thick as thieves, family without blood, two lost souls who leaned on each other in trying times; bonded by trauma, encouraged by resounding bravery, disciplined by strength. The fact that your boyfriend never even checked in with you after Nat's passing obviously hurt your feelings but you remained silent.

Again, to avoid generating more anxiety for Bucky.

You met the one-eyed man at a local, bustling coffee shop, finding the sight of the hardened, burly man eating a scone amusing. "Got you one of these," he nudged a dessert plate to your side of the table when you sat down with your desired coffee, "know you like 'em."

"Blueberries are my favorite," you half-smirked, regarding the moist muffin and sighing sadly. "All right, sir, what's on the docket?"

He stared at you for a moment, chewing thoughtfully before leaning back in his chair. "The fuck's going on with you?" He asked.

"What do you mean?"

"You look different today."

"Mh," you nodded, joking, "got a hair cut."

"No, it's your aura. Something bothering you, kid?"

"You do realize I'm a fully grown adult, right?"

Nick shrugged, "I don't see age."

"You don't - nobody sees age, Nick, Jesus."

He took a sip of his green tea. "There's still something bothering you. Not sure if you should go on this mission if you're wound tight."

"I'm just dealing with shit at home."

"Oh, right, the cyborg. How is the hundred year old psycho?"

"You you want me to stab out your other eye? 'Cause I fucking will," you threatened with a fork clenched in your grasp, perking your brows up your forehead. "Say that shit again, see what the fuck I do, Nick, I absolutely dare you."

He chuckled, hands held in defense, "Sorry, sorry, that was uncalled for. What's wrong with Sergeant Barnes?"

You shrugged, "It's complicated."

"Bitch, aliens opening a wormhole in space and time to invade Earth is complicated - relationships aren't. Try me."

After an amused chuckle, you told him, "He's struggling right now. You know? After everything, it's been a lot for him and now that things are relatively back to normal, he's having a hard time trying to assimilate himself back into the populace. You know, learning to live in this day and age - a man out of time, outside his comfort zone, forced to adjust himself after living as a weapon of mass destruction for so long. Add in the fact that his best friend passed, marking another forceful adjustment he's unprepared for..."

"Hm," Nick nodded, "heard he's got a full pardon."

"He does."

"Which has a contingency he's gotta go to therapy, right? Part of rejoining society?"

You nodded, "Right, again."

"So he's in therapy and still struggling?"

"It's not like there's an on-off switch, Nick, therapy takes time and dedication. I just don't think he feels at peace, calm, in control - like he deserves any of this; the pardon especially. Think the stress, fear, and confusion is eating at him."

"Well, he's got you."

"I'm not his mother."

"No, you're his girlfriend, and it's a girlfriend's responsibility to support him, ain't it? Help him through this?"

"I can only do so much, Nick," you scoffed, "I'm just one person and he's a stubborn jackass - he just pushes me away. I'm sure I don't help the situation by accepting your contracts."

Fury considered your words for a long moment, then asked, "You said he's lonely?"

"Wouldn't you? Given his situation? He won't say, but I know losing Steve caused a part of him die."

Nick shrugged, "So get him a dog."

You never wouldn't guessed those words could ever pass Nick Fury's lips, head cocking, eyes narrowing, arms crossed over your chest. "I'm sorry, do what now?"

"It's obvious, ain't it? Dude needs company when you're gone, a sense of purpose, to feel like there was something - or someone - depending on him. Might help whatever limbo he's lingering in."

"A dog?"

"A dog. He can take it for walks or whatever."

You considered his recommendation, asking again, "A dog?"

"Do we need to get your hearing checked again? You lose the last functionality of your ears? Yes, a dog."

"I don't know..."

"It's just a suggestion, might promote his peace, help him process grief and guilt. Telling you, a dog would do him good. Now," he took another sip of tea, "onto business."

"You give me whiplash," you chuckled. "What's this job?"

"Simple and easy," he pulled up a tablet from the chair beside him, tapping it three times and handing it to you.

"None of your jobs are simple or easy, Nicky-Nick."

"I told you, don't call me that. Look, I just need you in London to investigate a string of potential terrorist activity. Just some recon, you won't be gone more than a few days - if you behave and stay on task."

You scanned the document, "When do I ever do that?" He chuckled briefly, you wondering, "Flagsmashers? Jesus, what a name. C'mon, you can't be serious. These guys are just radicals - you know, trying to vouch for those displaced after the Blip. It's actually kinda endearing, I mean, they're trying to give a microphone to those without a voice."

"They're escalating - too quickly," Fury informed. "They haven't raised any international flags yet, but something ain't right about them. I just need you as eyes and ears, maybe report if you think they're worth the worry."

Little did you know, in only about a month, you would join forces with Bucky and Sam Wilson - The Falcon - to dismantle the organization.

"When do I leave?"

"Tuesday would be ideal. But I can push it to Friday if you wanna go get that dog."

Your laughter was endearing, handing the tablet back over.

Bucky liked holding hands, though, he often wouldn't ever voice it. It made him feel tethered, anchored to reality; instilling a sense of pride to have such a gorgeous lady - such as yourself - at his side. However, the part he liked most, was being reminded he wasn't alone; even when on crowded, overpopulated streets, he didn't have to be afraid because with his hand in yours, he looked just like everyone else. You protected him even without intending to or without even knowing what you were doing.

"I'm sorry about yesterday," he sighed, people on the street sidestepping and avoiding running into you two. "I was upset, stressed out, you know how I get after seeing Raynor."

"It's okay, baby," you assured, ever the patient, loyal, and supportive girlfriend he needed. "I'm not holding it against you, but just promise me, when you're ready, you'll tell me."

He nodded, "I will - I mean, I promise." You hummed and pet his bicep with your other hand, giving his arm a hug. "Now are you gonna tell me where we're going?"

"I told you, it's a surprise."

He was ready to reply when a small commotion echoed from the alley you were passing, Bucky coming to a jarring halt that yanked on your arm, swinging you around. You were ready to ask what was happening when you clocked one of Bucky's "friends", an older man named Yori Nakajima, arguing with one of his neighbors.

"Hey, hey, Yori," Bucky intervened, you watching from the mouth of the alley, "woah, hey, what's going on?"

You couldn't hear whatever Yori was saying, but Bucky turned to the other man and growled something at him that made the neighbor scurry off. He glared at you, lip curled in a sneer, disappearing amongst patrons of the crowded sidewalk. You frowned and approached Yori and Bucky, your boyfriend still trying to calm his friend - well, 'friend' was a very generous term. See, Yori was the father of a young man that died by the hand of the Winter Soldier, being a name on Bucky's list he needed to make amends with.

However, when you took your place beside Bucky, Yori was waving you both off and shuffling down the alley, towards one of his apartment building's doors. "What was that all about?" You asked softly, taking note of the disgruntled expression your boyfriend usually wore these days.

"Just," he sighed, shaking his head, "Yori's upset with some of his neighbors - thinks they're encroaching on being disrespectful."

"When doesn't he?" Bucky sighed, you wondering softly, "You think you're ever gonna feel ready to tell him?"

"I'm working on it," he sighed sadly. "All right, c'mon - "

You both paused with furrowed brows when there came a series of shrill meows from under a couple of soggy, cardboard boxes beside a dumpster. "Did you hear that?" You asked.

"Uh-huh."

Another elongated meow was heard, Bucky curiously approach the discarded trash coated in sewage sludge. He slowly squatted, you approaching his shoulder when another meow cried out. Now, normally, you'd never investigate animal noises out of fear they were feral and carrying disease, but something just felt sad about what you heard - apparently, to Bucky, too. Gingerly, he reached out and lifted a piece of dripping cardboard, seeing a bundle moving under the next piece. He moved that one, too.

"Oh, my God!" You cooed when a tiny kitten was revealed. White fur was stained with dirt, sludge, and other nasty juices; nose pink, eyes a piercing, clear blue with brownish tear stains rimming them. The kitten mewed in greeting, pacing a tight circle before trying to back up in the brick wall; hunching its back and hissing slightly when you lowered yourself into a squat beside Bucky. "Baby, it's all alone, should we help?" You pouted.

"I don't think it wants our help, doll," he sighed. "It looks scared of us. Bet the mother's around somewhere, be a shame to move it if she's coming back."

"It looks too skinny, maybe it's alone?"

"Or maybe it's not," Buck countered. "C'mon, sugar, we can't take it."

After a bit of back and forth, you finally relented and had to walk away. You frowned for at least two blocks, but upon your halt at a crosswalk, you were greeted by another shrieking meow. Whipping around, you and Buck both looked down to discover the wee little kitten had followed you and was practically yelling for your attention. You grinned.

"Well, now we really have to help it," you told Bucky.

"How?"

"We take it to a shelter," you answered, shrugging, "good thing I know where one is."

"What's it doing?" Bucky asked nervously, the kitten dancing around your legs; brushing up against you both, meowing the whole time.

"I think she wants you to pick her up," you smirked.

He sighed and stooped to scoop the little creature in hand, regarding it carefully; weighing it, checking paws and other vulnerable spots. Bucky muttered, "All right, yeah, fine, let's take him to a shelter. Little beast needs some food it feels like, definitely a flea bath and some fresh water."

"You big softie."

"Lead the way to the shelter, princess, c'mon," he ignored your jab, tucking the kitten into his chest protectively. "He feels fragile," Bucky worried, "maybe you should carry him, I might crush him."

"You've got the little babe, Buck," you assured, "you're not gonna hurt him - I mean, if it's even a him."

"By the attitude, could be a girl," he joked, making your heart lighten. He'd been in such a funk that you missed his teasing, soft words; the little jokes he cracked, his smile - God, you missed seeing his smile. During your time on the run after DC, while seeking refuge in Bucharest for a couple years, you grew accustomed to seeing his radiant smile; remembering how easily he offered it when just the two of you. For a moment, you considered how your relationship was no longer just you and Bucky - but his trauma, too.

Arriving at the shelter, it was like an assault on the senses. Dogs were heard barking from the kennels, the pungent smell of urine and wood chips smacking you in the face, and a sort of humidity lingering in the air - a sharp contrast to the crisp outside.

"Hi," you greeted the receptionist, offering a kind smile.

"Hi, there. How can I help you two?" The man with long hair asked.

"Well, uh, two things," you explained, "one: we'd like to tour your kennels, we're interested in adopting a dog - "

"We are?" Bucky gaped.

" - and two: we found this little fella in an alley," you pointed to the kitten curled protectively against Bucky's warmth. "We wanted to make sure he was okay, maybe leave him here for adoption?"

"Oh," Man Bun blinked, regarding both Bucky and the kitten, "wow, uh, yeah, that's really nice of you guys, rescuing the little guy. You know, since everyone came back few months ago, there's be an influx of strays. A lot of people gave up their animals when their loved ones came back."

"Well, that's super fucked up," your eyes rolled.

"Tell me about it," he sighed. "Look, I'd love to help you guys out, so, tell you what. I can let you back in the kennels - no problem! Help match you to your new companion, but, uh... I don't think I can help you with the cat. You see, we, uh, we've had to start euthanizing the overflow animals or the ones who don't get adopted in a timeframe. We're at our max capacity, so... If you wanna leave him here, uh, I can't promise he'll have a place."

"You'd put him down?" Bucky growled.

"It's not what we want to do," Man Bun swiftly explained, "but it's just necessary - we don't have the room or resources to take him."

"Do you know of any no-kill shelters? Maybe one that has room?" You asked, feeling Bucky's disgust rolling off him in waves.

"Not in the area," Man Bun frowned. "Honestly? I think the closest no-kill shelter's in Maryland. Maybe Virginia?"

"Jesus," you frowned, looking at Bucky.

"Look, my best advice?" Man Bun offered, "Take the little tike home, clean him up, and call around to other shelters to see if they have space. But if you intend to adopt a dog, maybe bringing back a kitten isn't the best timing. If you give him up to us, he'll probably be sent directly to overflow..."

"We'll take him home," Bucky instantly decided, shocking you.

"We will?" You asked softly, lips curling in a small smile.

"Why not?" He sighed.

"I would've thought you'd be more of a dog person..."

"I'm not an animal person, but we're not leaving this little guy here just for him to be euthanized. We can handle him for a few days, you know, until we find a shelter with room."

"I think that's a great idea," you grinned.

"But was this your plan? For us to adopt a dog?"

"Well, yeah..."

"Why?"

You shrugged, "Just thought a dog would be nice company when I'm outta town for work. You know, could go on walks or runs together, you'd have someone looking out for you, maybe a dog would help with your stress levels?"

He eyed you for a moment, sighing, "I appreciate that, doll. Maybe another time, though? At least let us find somewhere or someone to take this guy."

The kitten gave a prolonged squeak - seemingly agreeing. "All right, noisy, we hear you," you chuckled, giving the kitten's head a scratch. You asked Man Bun, "Do you guys have the means to check him over, you know, before we go home? Make sure he's not injured or something?"

"Yeah," he nodded, "let me go get one of the technicians."

After the tech's exam, you were given the paperwork from that day's visit, the name, number, and address of a recommended vet, and before you knew it, found yourselves at the local pet store. You would've been ashamed by the absurd amount of money you spent, but Bucky rationalized the need because you weren't sure how long your new companion would stay with you. So, you ransacked the store, buying a sizable litter box, 50 pounds of actual litter, a bag of kibble, case of wet food, several different treats, a balm for the baby's feet, too many toys and stimulation activities, a carrying case in the event of transporting the kitten, and a tiny collar - if you decided to keep the little noise machine.

The sight of Bucky with the little fuzz ball warmed your heart. He still seemed hesitant and stiff, as if afraid to hurt the kitten, but he wasn't so tense anymore. However, he handed the pet over for you to hold while he carried the supplies back home; biceps bulging to support the weight. In that moment, walking familiar streets with his arms full of cat supplies, he questioned how he got here - to feel all domestic and out-of-place. He was Bucky Barnes - a Sargent in the Army, prolific hitman, something of an Avenger now. He didn't adopt cats and buy toys!

However, watching you talk to the kitten softly, he smiled - something small at first that grew like a germinating seed to split his face. You seemed so... Bright, excited, rejuvenated, even. He knew the past five months since the Blip had been rough on you, what with losing Natasha, fighting Thanos and his army of aliens, then ricocheting into 'normal life' only to deal with his emotional baggage. Watching you walk down the street with a fuzzy white ball of energy, pointing out different things, cooing and narrating the city to the kitten as if he could understand was refreshing after seemingly seeing nothing but a frown on your lips recently.

To Bucky, as long as you were happy, he was happy - and it seemed you were very content with your new little buddy. So, he was happy with your new little buddy and figured a dose of domestic life wasn't the end of the world. In fact, he actually felt... Intrigued by the newest addition to your little family.

When you returned home, it was to an empty apartment. Bucky dropped the supplies in the living room, hands to his hips, looking around, "Well, uh... At least there's room to run around, right?"

You nodded, "And no risk of ruined furniture."

"Yeah," he sighed, watching you set the kitten down. "All right, pip squeak. C'mon, lemme give you the tour - pay attention. So, in here," he moved around the wall, kitten following and listening intently, labeling, "this is the kitchen, this is where you'll get your meals - and no, you're not allowed on the counters." He pointed a warning finger, "Don't let me catch you up there or there's gonna be hell to pay. I don't wanna find your hair in my morning bagel."

"Buck, you don't eat breakfast."

"Fine, then I don't wanna hear my girl found hair in her bagel."

The kitten mewed loudly, trotting to keep up as Bucky walked around the barren apartment - giving a literal tour. You unpacked the supplies, setting up a raised food bowl beside a full water bowl. You left the treats in an empty cupboard, the litter box ready to use in the bathroom, and tossed some toys around the open, empty living room floor. You meandered, stashing other supplies, hearing the scampering thuds of excited little feet.

When your head popped out of the kitchen, you grinned at what you saw. Bucky was sat on the floor, flicking a feathered stick over the hardwood floors for the kitten to race around and try to catch. The longer you watched, the more defenseless Bucky seemed, and dare you say it, he looked calm - maybe even happy. His eyes were locked on the animal's antics as if he didn't want to miss a single movement he made; small smile making him look younger and brighter.

You made a mental note to thank Nick Fury for his suggestion. Sure, he actually said to get a dog, but this kitten seemed to have the same effect.

"Hey, baby?" You called, hanging up your phone after calling the recommended vet. "So, uh... Listen, you know how I have to go outta town on Friday?"

"Yeah?" He glanced up, letting the kitten wrestle his booted foot.

"So, I managed to get a vet appointment but it's for Friday. Is that okay? Or do you want me to reschedule for when I'm back so we can go together?"

"Oh, uh, no, that's all right, sugar, keep the Friday slot. I can take him, it's not a big deal."

"You sure? I hate having to saddle you with this responsibility."

"I'm sure," he nodded, "I can take him, it's okay."

For the rest of the week, you had a front row viewing of an incredible bond being formed. The kitten liked you, you two had many moments together, but it was obvious the little guy adored Bucky. He was stuck to your boyfriend like Velcro, following him everywhere, shrieking for attention when Bucky was preoccupied, liked being held when he cooked, even tried to get in the shower with Bucky. They played together, Bucky's laugh warming the entire apartment; positively obsessed with one another, the little guy even sleeping between you and Bucky.

It was as if you both forgot to look for the kitten a permanent home, the lack of furniture providing wide space for play and entertainment. Bucky even got one of those cat trees, couple individual scratching posts, and a laser pointer that drove your furry friend up the wall. There was some unspoken rule about naming animals - where if you named them, they were yours officially. So, one evening over dinner, you proposed a few names, Bucky giving his opinion; but then you began to consider "theme" names. Because your little buddy was white, you mused over names like Noelle or Snow, but finally settled on Alpine after narrowly beating out Aspen.

The day you flew to London, you warned both Bucky and kitten to behave themselves. Later that night, while you were sat in a tinted SUV for surveillance, your phone rang with Bucky's contact. "Hey, baby, how's it going?" You answered, refocusing through your advanced camera lens to snap necessary photos.

"Good, yeah. Uh, how's London?"

"Pretty dreary, it's been raining all day. Hey, how was the vet appointment?"

'Oh, yeah, no, it was, uh, yeah, it was good. Gave Alpine a buncha shots, microchipped her, started her on antibiotics - "

"Did you say, 'her'?"

"Yeah, that was the other thing - turns out, Alpine's a girl."

You chuckled, "Well, I'll be damned. How're you feelin', Buck?"

"I'm... Okay."

"I'm sorry I'm not there," you sighed. "Nightmares again?"

"Yeah."

"Sleeping in the living room?"

"You know it."

"TV on?"

"Reminds me I'm not where I dreamt I am."

"Well, I'll be home in a few days."

"What's this mission?"

"Just a little recon, I'm only to observe. Nicky told me to keep an eye on some suspicious activity."

"Don't tell me you're sitting in a white van?"

"No, sir, it's a Rolls Royce this time," you chuckled.

True to your word, you were home by Tuesday night. The transatlantic flight was long and tedious; a storm creating steady turbulence, making it absolutely impossible to get any shut eye. When you landed, you made a beeline to the Starbucks and got the largest coffee possible with an added 2 shots of espresso before exiting the bustling airport. Outside, waiting at the curb, Nick Fury himself stood before a sleek and shiny car that probably cost more than a 4-year education at an American university.

He smirked, "Welcome back, kid."

"Nice of you to pick me up, Nicky-Nick."

"Don't call me that."

"Don't call me 'kid'."

"Get in the Goddamn car, I'm not having this argument again."

After storing your luggage, Nick drove you back home while listening to your mission report. You didn't think the Flagsmashers were extreme enough to warrant intervention, but all Nick heard was that now was the time to strike before there came the need, before a chance for escalation could occur. You left the tablet full of notes, observations, photos, and data with the one-eyed man, and before you fully departed the car, paused to lean in the open window.

"Hey, uh, I've been meaning to thank you."

"What for?" Nick asked, face hardened in a permanent look of disagreement. You never took it personally - Nick Fury having professional Resting Bitch Face (RBF).

"Your advice about getting Bucky a dog."

"No shit," he chuckled, "you actually got him a dog?"

"Uh, well, no..."

"What'd you get?" Nick asked in suspicion, watching your lips roll between your teeth to restrain your smile. "Ah, hell no! You didn't! A cat? A fucking cat?"

"I know you don't like them - "

"Bitch! One scratched out my eye!"

"But our cat didn't."

"Doesn't matter - fuck all them felines."

You laughed and slapped the metal door, "Well, thank you anyway for the idea of a companion animal. Bucky's a lot calmer it seems."

Nick Fury sighed, waving you off like a pesky insect. "I'll call you when I got another job. Have fun with the little demon."

"You talkin' about Bucky or Alpine?"

"The cat - wait, Alpine? The fuck kinda name is that?"

"You know, Alpine... Like the Alps?"

His head shook, "I know what fuckin' alpine is."

"Why don't you head off - looks like you're gonna give yourself a stroke. Didn't realize getting a kitten would stress you out this bad."

"Get out my Goddamn window and I can leave."

You grinned and dropped a wink, again, patting the car and stepping back onto the sidewalk. Nick peeled off, leaving you alone to shoulder your duffel bag and head inside your apartment building. When you got to your desired location, the door opened without the usual creak, Bucky obviously WD-40'ing the hinges. "Hello?" You called softly, hanging your keys on the little peg in the foyer, toeing out of your shoes, glancing around the empty apartment.

Ready to call out again, you actually almost choked on air when you inhaled but stopped abruptly. You pouted your bottom lip at the sight of Bucky sound asleep in his nest on the floor, TV's lighting flashing and creating shadows, giving clear sight of Alpine curled in a tight ball on Buck's chest. His flesh hand was raised to rest on his chest, keeping Alpine cuddled to his warmth.

Quickly, you pulled your phone from your back pocket, snapping an adorable picture of your boyfriend before silently tiptoeing away to dispose of your duffel and purse. You sent the photo to Bucky's phone, positive you were keeping the kitten. After a long, hot shower that washed the travel from your body, you changed into loungewear, pulled your hair back, then reentered the living room where you knelt at Bucky's side. In-sync, your presence made both Alpine and Bucky flinch awake - your boyfriend jerking away from your warmth as the kitten hopped off his chest.

You winced, "Oh, shit, I'm so sorry, baby, I didn't mean to wake you."

His head shook, "No, it's all right, doll, I wasn't sleeping."

"You were, don't deny it," you grinned, settling on the mound of blankets.

Bucky chuckled gently, "I tried to stay up for you. C'mere," his arm opened in invitation, smirking gently. You settled down and turned into his side, his arm now coiled around your form, constricting to pull you closer so his lips could plant on your forehead. "How was London? Your mission?"

"Easy peasy," you sighed, "nothing too strenuous or stressful. The most 'complicated' part of the whole thing was using a different car each day to avoid suspicion."

"Hmm... Who was the target?"

"Some radical group," you sighed, head resting on his pectoral. "How was it? Just you and Alpine?"

"It was pretty good, nothing to complain about. She's nice company."

As if understanding she was the topic of conversation, Alpine mewed several times in a row as she walked up the seam of your body pressed to Bucky's. She turned in two circles before settling down between you; your grin authentic as a manicured fingernail extended to scratch her head.

"Actually, sweetheart, I've been thinking..."

"Hmm? About what?" You mumbled, eyes drooping with each passing second.

"About how we should keep her - Alpine, we should keep Alpine."

"You're just figuring that out now?" You teased, sluggishly lifting your head to smirk at him. "I knew she was ours the moment you picked her up. It'll be nice having her around, don't you think? I know she's not a dog you can take on walks but with Alpine, you don't have to be alone."

He nodded, "I like that idea. She's a good cat."

"Check your phone in the morning."

"Why?"

"Mmmh, I sent you a picture, you'll see - but it's just confirmation that Alpines part of us now, part of our crew."

"Our family," Bucky agreed softly. He watched you resettle on his chest, spending the following couple hours in the glow of the TV, watching you and Alpine. Bucky's heart warmed to a degree he's never known, making the comparison of himself to Jim Carrey's, the Grinch - a movie you made him watch. Eventually, exhaustion outweighed his domestic thoughts; falling asleep with you safe in his arms and Alpine curled up between you.

"Well, this certainly is a surprise... I was beginning to think James made you up."

"Oh, please, nobody could make me up - I'm too complex, nobody's got that kinda imagination," you smirked, legs crossed, seated beside Bucky on a sofa; both facing his therapist.

"I'm glad you could finally join us - I've been asking James to bring you for a while now," Dr. Raynor's eyes darted between you and Bucky, making you feel as if she was seeing right into your soul. However, her tone was accusatory, as if scolding Bucky.

So, you swiftly defended, "Well, I'm happy to be here. Bucky's one of my top priorities, I'd do anything for him - including attending any of these silly mandated sessions. Which are bullshit, by the way, because he's not the Winter Soldier anymore so why is Bucky being crucified? Why is this being pinned on him when he technically didn't do anything? The Winter Soldier did."

"Well, healing often takes time and dedication, and must be done in a series of steps. That's how you see real progress. These sessions are a condition of his pardon - "

"I can't believe your government would even enforce these silly little rules considering Bucky's assistance. He fought against Thanos, he fought on our side, and by all means, helped restore what was lost. I just find it pretty dehumanizing to force him to jump through hoops. I mean, for Christ's sake, half the universe was snapped away, you'd think after that, there wouldn't be need for pardons or contingencies - or for holding onto grudges."

"This is simply how we keep order in a post-Blip society. Everything changed in those five years, it's necessary to keep balance amongst all worldly citizens."

You scoffed lightly, "Ever consider these sessions might be doing more harm than good?"

Raynor frowned, "Despite the Winter Soldier being decommissioned, James still has trauma to process and skeletons to clear out of the closet. Yes, the Winter Soldier is gone, but the man remains - and James needs to focus on healing that part of himself. Whatever he did as the Winter Soldier wasn't Bucky's doing, but he still remembers all he did, which creates a heavy toll on the mind. That's part of the reason these sessions are mandated - because the assassin might be gone, but the residual effects still linger."

You hummed, "Well, let's get into it, Doc."

"You know... I've heard a lot about you. James paints you in a very bright light, says your bark and bite are equally as vicious."

"Hm," you nodded, brows perked, "yet I don't know shit about you."

"Perfectly natural. Typically, most people don't gossip about their therapists. It's nice that you could join us for this session."

"Nice to be invited."

She clicked her pen and settled her pad securely on her lap, just staring at you and Bucky for a long moment. You were ready to snap at her when she opened her mouth, "So, I hear you adopted a cat?"

"We did," you confirmed.

"Alpine," Bucky supplied, body rigid with tension and nerves.

"Right... Alpine," Raynor nodded, leaning her elbow to an arm of her padded chair. "How did this cat come into your possession?"

"We rescued her from a dumpster," Bucky answered stiffly.

"Really?" Raynor perked both brows.

"She was under some pieces of cardboard, screamin' her li'l head off," You chuckled. "Though, I think it's safe to say she chose us, adopted us as caregivers."

"How's that?"

"She wouldn't let us pick her up and we were afraid to take her in case her mama was lingering around. Turns out, she followed us. We were at a crosswalk when she caught up, demanding we pick her up and take her home."

"Is that so?"

"I'd like to think so," you nodded. "We were already on our way to the shelter, so, we took her with us, got her checked out."

"Why were you heading to the shelter to begin with?"

"Oh, uh, to adopt a dog. I had a colleague recommend an emotional support animal - or a companionship animal - to help Bucky feel less alone."

Raynor made a note of something. "You work often?" She asked.

"Often enough that I feel guilty for leaving. Figured getting a dog would instill a sense of dependence, you know, help Bucky feel like there was someone depending on him. Help usher in comfort and stability, help keep him calm, focused, distracted. But Alpine does the same thing - no dog necessary, apparently."

Raynor nodded, her wrinkles dimpling as she frowned and wrote down another note. When her eyes lifted, so did her lips; a smirk on display as she praised, "I actually think that's a wonderful idea. You know, there's been a lot of research about soldiers with PTSD benefitting from an emotional support animal. You're right, they promote peace, stability, distraction - gives patrons a tangible purpose, taking care of another life not their own."

"For sure, again, anything to help," you agreed, holding Bucky's gloved hand he kept covered by leather - only worn in public.

"Although, I wonder, why get a pet? I ask because James speaks highly of you, credits you for keeping him stable and on-track. Do you feel as if she's not enough, James? Is that why you kept Alpine?"

"No," he answered instantly, "she's my best girl and will always be enough. Watch your mouth, Doc."

"But sometimes extra help is nice," you tacked on, tightening your hand in Bucky's. "But for what it's worth, Dr. Raynor, Bucky keeps me sane. I keep him balanced. We keep each other safe. Alpine's just an added bonus, a quiet menace to help quell the business of our brains."

Raynor smirked, "I must say, you surprise me, Miss."

"I'm no stranger to mental health. But as I said before, I just want to help." You looked up at Bucky, finsihing softly, "He deserves peace in this lifetime - and if a little ball of fur can help, sign me up..."

requesting rules and masterlist

Marvel masterlist

[ectologia]

Tomura Shigaraki is definitely a disgusting and depraved perv when it comes to kinks and fetishes, it's a known fact. I wanna know your ideas for all the fucked up things he's into, illegal or not ^^

KINKS & FETISHES

TOMURA SHIGARAKI EDITION

CONTENT ♱ IN ALPHABETICAL ORDER, THIS IS EXTREMELY MATURE CONTENT WITH A PLETHORA OF KINKS AND FETISHES (INCLUDING NONCON), COMMON OR NOT, READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION!

ACAROPHILIA (AROUSAL FROM SCRATCHING)

Tomura loves the scratchies, we all know that. Whether he’s sad, anxious, frustrated or horny, you can always catch those blunt fingernails digging at his flesh like a dog in a flower patch. And, unsurprisingly, yours too. He likes the way you shudder as he claws down your skin, catching your nipples as he tears down your tits before watching the thin white lines raise into nasty looking red gashes. He’ll even drag his tongue over them to feel the bumps as he wanks.

ANAL TRAINING

Tomura is a disgusting and malicious man, so it should come as no surprise that one of his favourite past times is to see how wide he can stretch your ass open. He’ll make it into a game, timing you, finding different objects (safe or not) to squeeze up your butt, promising you treats and rewards if you can take having your sphincter stretched another 5 centimetres. And if you don’t think that’s a lot, trust, it is. And it’ll hurt. He’ll make sure of it.

ANONYMOUS SEX

Even evil crime bosses such as Tomura can get insecure too. On those days he’s feeling extremely low about himself, whether it be because a mission was unsuccessful or because his skin’s had a flare up and he can barely look at anyone. He’ll resort to skulking around dingy clubs and alleys. He’s not the biggest fan of glory holes, mainly because he’s scared there’ll be a dude on the other side sucking his cock. But he appreciates that he can be as weird or unattractive as he wants and still bust a fat nut into something other than his fist.

BATHROOM CONTROL

We all know Tomura is a control freak. And it just gets freakier when he starts telling you where and when you can go to the toilet. On most days, he’s tame about it. All he asks of you is that you tell him when your bladder’s full and he’ll give you permission to use his toilet. It’s only until he starts wanting to watch you shit and piss while he jerks himself off does it get a little.. worrying. He just finds it so cute when your little body does what it’s supposed to, and it’s even better when he’s the one that gets to be a bossy boots about it.

BREAST + NIPPLE TORTURE

As mentioned before, Tomura likes scratching your nipples. He’s also an avid enjoyer of slapping, pinching, twisting, stretching, biting, flicking and tickling. Really, there’s no actual explanation. He just enjoys watching you writhe in pain.

BREAST + NIPPLE WORSHIP

Equally, on the flip side. Tomura worships your tits, physically and spiritually. He finds them so beautiful, he reckons they’re his favourite part of your body. Romantic, right? He’ll kiss and hug and squish, juggling them in his palms before sucking one into his mouth while caressing the other. He’ll use them as pillows, resting his head on your chest before slipping away into a restful slumber. Probably to dream of even more titties.

CRUROPHILIA (A KINK RELATED TO LEGS)

Legs, legs, legs. Long legs, skinny legs, chubby legs, muscular legs, legs in tights, legs in thigh highs, shaved or unshaved. Tomura loves legs, he’s obsessed with them to some degree. Just the way he can do so much with them. Fold them against your chest, spread them out wide, throw them over his shoulders, or even bind them tight. He just loves legs.

BONUS

If you’re a fast runner, watch out, because Tomura will be chasing you in circles like you’re a gazelle in the savanna. He gets off to it, hardcore.

CUMSHOTS

Tomura will find any excuse to make something into a game. Give him something to aim at and he’ll be shooting semen at you like it’s an FPS. His favourite thing to spunk on is your clit, since it’s such a tiny target he feels almost accomplished when he manages to spit the creamy white liquid right on the little bud. (Before getting to lick it off)

FACE FUCKING

Who doesn’t love a nice, rough face fuck? Tomura definitely does. Tomura treats all your holes like sex toys, and your mouth is just another. He’s a hard, deep and fast fuck, using your hair like reins as he shovels his length all the way down your throat and back up again. He’s like a greyhound, once he starts he can’t stop. So what if you just threw up on his dick? He’s not done until he’s done.

FACE SITTING

Not in the way you think. He’s the one doing the sitting ‘round here darling. He’ll use it as a punishment, squatting over your face with his filthy asshole puckering and scrunching over your lips, Oh, what, you think it’s gross? Good. You better get used to the view of his hairy ass crack, baby, because you’re gonna’ be here a while.

FOOT FETISH

Perhaps the most common and well known of Shiggy’s fetishes, he’s a feet connoisseur. Manicured toes, soft soles and high heels are what he dreams of at night. Pumping his dick between a pretty girl’s smooth arches, legs bent with her steaming hot pink pussy nestled right between them? Hell yeah. He’ll alternate between worshiping your feet and having you worship his. He sucks your toes, you suck his back. It’s a 50/50 relationship.

BONUS

Though Tomura’s obsession is mainly sexual, he’ll massage your feet as an act of service purely because it’s his love language.

MACROGENITALISM

Some men like the pretty, pink pristine vulvas, the hairless ones with barely-there, tucked away labias and tiny clits you can barely get at. Some men aren’t Tomura. He wants it hairy, messy and sloppy. He wants to nestle his face between your bush and suffocate himself with the coarse hairs, he wants to gnaw and pull on your beautiful labia with his teeth and lick through every fold and crevice like he’s an explorer. He likes the women with big, gorgeous clits and fat, chunky cunts, and he won’t have anything less.

NONCON

He likes the way you scream and plead. How your guttural wails and ear piercing shrieks dull and splinter into pitiful whimpers. How your eyes mist into glassy, shiny goggles the moment he pulls the sluggish length of his manhood out and slaps it up and down on your tiny, twitchy clit. Back hunched as he places a boney finger to his lips, shushing and cooing at you as you heave through grit teeth when he splits into your folds. His big, bulbous cock head juts in and out with a slick pop as he pummels you into a shakey, traumatised little mess, pumping you full with his seed, wether you want it in your little womb or not.

PEODEIKTOPHILIA (PENIS FLASHING)

Though it sounds sinister, Tomura finds it positively hilarious. He likes to see that momentary, adorably shocked, deer-in-headlights look on your face when he drops his waistband for just a second, giving you an eyeful of his big, floppy cock and balls. Whether you’re on your own or with people, outside or inside. He’s incredibly sneaky and an all around menace. Walking past while you’re tucked into bed? He’ll wipe his clammy dick on your face along the way. Having a conversation with someone? He’ll slip his squishy pink head out of his boxers and thumb the slit with a cheeky grin. Brushing your teeth? He’ll chase you around the bathroom with his balls hanging out. Just know, he does it because he loves you. You’re his best friend.

QUIROFILIA (HAND FETISH)

Tomura likes pretty hands. Long, lithe fingers with manicured nails and soft knuckles. A stark contrast to his huge, calloused and, not to mention, destructive ones. He’ll kiss and caress the delicate appendages before demanding you wrap them around his cock, stacked atop one another as you stroke his prick up and down, foreskin clicking stickily as his balls jiggle against his thighs until he inevitably climaxes, coating your sweet fingers in the syrupy substance of his love.

SOMNOPHILIA (ENGAGING IN SEXUAL ACTIVITY WITH SOMEBODY THAT IS ASLEEP OR UNCONSCIOUS)

It can be for various reasons, the main one being you’re too tired to deal with him, so he just takes matters into his own hands. He’ll spread your pussy and eat it from the back as much as it takes until he can slip inside you nice and easy. Bouncing your unconscious self against the mattress with his dick nestled tightly inside your syrupy walls, while you stay tucked into bed all cosy and warm. See? It’s a win win situation.

WATERSPORTS

Similar to Tomura’s “bathroom control” kink, Tomura just really likes piss. Wether you’re squirting in his mouth after getting finger banged within an inch of your life, or you’re on your knees with your tongue out waiting for him to give you a hot, steamy golden shower, he really doesn’t care. As long as at least one of you are drenched in piss by the end of it.

A TOTAL OF 17 KINKS THAT I COULD THINK OF (BUT I’M SURE THERE’S MORE)

[luvrxbunny]

Bunny I was randomly thinking about slow sex with Miguel with the !Cradle Sex Position! 🥺

i had to google what that was and omg the fucking fire that starting in my stomach AHHHHHH

also there were a bunch of diff photos so i hope this is the one you were talking about

warning 18+ - an animated photo of the position is below the cut

not proofread and probably some improper grammar CUS THIS WAS JUST SUPPOSED TO BE A BLURB

wc: 1k

it'd be really emotional sex. like maybe you almost died on a mission, ohh- like andrew garfield's spider-man! you were falling like that and Miguel had seen that canon event for other spiders so many times that he thought this was it- that no matter what he does, no matter how hard he tries, how quickly he shoots his web it wont reach you, he wont catch you, you're gonna die and it's his fault. but then his web reaches you and you're shaken up but completely safe.

he doesnt leave you alone for the rest of the day. he becomes worse than your shadow because at least your shadow can't insist your keep one part of your body on his at all times.

once you guys get home you ask him why he's so worked up and bent outta shape by what happened today and he breaks down. tears begin to stream down his face despite how aggressively he's trying to rub them away and you force him to sit down and explain himself to you.

you’re being so gentle as you comfort him, so caring and loving in a way he’s never felt before. so ofc he gets hard 🥳

he pulls you into his lap slowly and just stares at the shocked expression on your face once you feel that he’s hard. you’re sitting across his lap because of how he pulled you in. your legs run off the sides of his thighs as his legs stay planted on the ground.

he readjusts himself, slides down a bit and spreads his legs before wrapping a thick arm behind your thighs, one behind your back and slowly folding you up for him. he turns you so your back is to his chest but you can still hold the eye contact he’s kept this whole time.

the silence in the room is so fragile you’re afraid to breathe, not wanting to shatter the moment. his eyes flicker to your lips for a moment before coming back up with a pleasing look. his cheeks are still wet with tears, you can’t resist him. you lean in slowly and don’t close your eyes until your lips are locked with his. he moans and he reaches for your hand. he grabs your wrist and fidgets with buttons until your suit dissipates, one of his favorite things about having chosen to make you a digital suit.

he adjusts his watch to just dissipate the crotch, always needing that power imbalance between the two of you. his cock slaps against your pussy the moment it’s freed, eliciting a shocked, but desperate moan from the both of you.

miguel planned on taking his time with you but after his cock hit your plush, wet, lips— he can’t wait any longer. “putting it in, baby.” he grunts out into your ear as he lines himself up with your entrance. your hands reach back to caress his head, play with the curls at the base of his neck.

both your eyes roll back as he slides into you. it’s funny how in sync the two of you are, feeling the same things at the same time for the same reasons. the emotional exposure has left you both raw, sensitive for each other. you both are moaning louder and more frantically than you usually would, on edge already.

“m’not gonna last miguel. oh i love you so much, baby. you’re so good, keeping me safe at all times. my big protector.” your delirious, running your hand through his curls and grinding on his cock as you speak. your words affect him more than he ever could’ve expected. he’s cumming.

it’s worse than a punch to the gut. he lets out a yelp/moan of your name like a scolding and you can feel his warmth flooding your insides. his hands grip your thighs so hard you actually think they may pop, you have to dig your nails into his wrists for him to realize. his hands are shaking— his whole body is shaking so violently that you’re trembling along with him, causing an extra tightness over his cock as you start to cum.

he was on the tail end of his orgasm but now that you’re cumming around him… it’s been renewed. he lets out another shocked moan, closer to a whimper and a sob as he crosses the line into overstimulation. he’s still fucking into you though because you’re cumming. he wants you to cum so hard you’re nothing but jelly in his hands but it seems to be having the opposite affect.

your head is turned to his, you hand on the back of his head, in his curls to angle it towards you and you’re mumbling with a smirk against his lips. “oh- yeah. fill me up, miggy. you’re pumping me so full, baby. kee- keep going. miguel. keep filling me up, my love. m’all yours. make me yours- mark me. want everyone to know.” your words penetrate his brain like bullets. shooting through him and never leaving. mark you

he takes a bite before he can think. wanting to mark you in anyway he can and the sensitivity on his fangs as his eyes crossing as his cock shoves out another fat rope of cum into you. you’re squealing, trying to hold your sounds in as you flutter over his cock again, creating an obscene noise as his thrusts die into slow grinds. his teeth are still in your shoulder, feeling too good under the rush of your warm blood to pull out. his brows are furrowed as he tries to collect his thoughts again.

this never happens to him. you’re stroking the back of his head now and whispering loving words into the air, hoping he can hear them. you’re usually the one in this position, all fallen apart and gifting miguel the honor of putting you back together. but now he’s gifting the honor to you, giving himself you you completely, letting you clean him up and take the both of you to bed.

HOW THE FUCK DID THIS GET SO LONG OMFG 😭 THIS SHOULD COUNT AS TODAYS FIC

i literally burnt myself out from this and now today's fic is like 800 words

[melodic-haze]

alright think about this jealous sex with arlecchino. Maybe she’s been hanging out with columbina too much.

☆ — DEMO TRACK: sub!Arlecchino x dom!Reader

☆ — TYPE: NSFW

☆ — CONTENT WARNINGS: Thr briefest mention of petplay, rough sex ig, that's basically it 🤷‍♀️

Ohhhhmygod the way Arlecchino talks of her so very fondly too like it's VERY easy to be jealous I think. Like I'm not really a jealous or a possessive person but even then I'd give like a slight side eye

The Knave was just spending a BIT too much time with Columbina for your tastes. You ask if you could hang out w her, she tells you she has a prior engagement with the other Harbinger. You go to talk to her, she's already talking with Damselette. Frankly, she's acc taking the piss❗️❗️❗️

It just. Drives you up the FUCKING WALL but yk. "Do unto others what you want done to you" or smth like that idk the saying

"I-- I'm going to--"

"You are not doing anything unless I tell you to."

You feel her hands grip onto your hair as you practically abused her cunt with your fingers. If you weren't pinning her to the wall and holding her up, you were sure that as formidable as she was, her legs would've buckled down from the overwhelming stimulation and the lack of release whenever she reached her very peak.

(With the strength of her grip, youu also thanked archons above that despite everything, she was careful enough to not claw at your scalp. That wasn't the most important thing right now, though.)

"You know," you idly mused—taunted, even—as you curled your digits within her, "we could've been doing something better. We could've been having tea, tending to your children, having so much more fun than this. And yet what do you do?"

You pulled your fingers away, slick glistening and forming a faintly connecting line before snapping, and you hear a desperate whimper that you pointedly ignore, "You pass all that up for your fellow Harbinger."

"But she can't make you feel good like I do, can she?" You slapped her thigh harshly, to which you ignore her surprised gasp too—you knew she could handle much more anyway, "Nobody else can have you all pliant and breathless like this. Not her, not anyone."

Arlecchino actually makes a move to nod instead of standing there all dumb, "Only.. Only for you.. my love, I--"

"Only for me?"

"Yes..!"

Answering like an over-eager dog. Actually hilarious.

You stand up and press your fingers harshly inside of her, and just when she feels utter delight in tbe thought of you finally granting mercy on a sinner such as her?

"Move."

"..What?"

"You heard me, my love," the affectionate pet name overshadowed by your mocking tone, "if you want to get off, then move. Surely you can manage such a simple task, right?"

It's unsaid that you want her to move on her own to show her dedication to you...

But either she caught on or she was desperate for the feeling of you inside her, for she leaned her head and started to grind her pussy onto your offered hand.

Only you were allowed to command her like this.

Need to constantly alternate between edging her and overstimming her, both to such UNBEARABLE levels bc SURELY she can handle it 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️

Absolutely use her in ANY way you could think of; by this point she's a hole for you to use and vent your jealousy to, all while repeating some kinda mantra about how Columbina could never do the things you do to her

Remind her that only YOU could make her feel the things she does, remind her that only YOU could have her bend to your will, both literally and metaphorically. Doesn't matter to you how powerful she is!! Could be an eldrich horror and you don't gaf

At the end of the day, you have utterly corrupted her—trained her—in the ways that she (or anyone) had never imagined. You've absolutely ruined her for everyone else

You just. Need to remind her with a LOT of torture 🥰 break this supposed monster all over again, make her remember just who, exactly, tamed her 🥰🥰🥰

Whether it's by stuffing her with so many toys all in the lowest settings or absolutely filling her up over and over and over and OVER until all traces of the angel-like Harbinger is completely fucked out of her mind 🫶🫶🫶🫶

[heavenlyraindrops]

smut writing tips (TW: sexual stuff cause like. Cmon. It’s smut)

I did one for character so now I’m doing one for smut what’s wrong with smut huh so what if I’m writing tips on how to make smut so what SO WHAT HUH

Smut scenes aren’t that different from normal scenes. Probably because they’re normal scenes. Remember that.

Therefore, they should have dialogueeee because boy oh boy the amount of smut I have read where they are just dead silent is insane I could rebuild the wall of china with allat

so… dirty talk

BUT DONT MAKE IT TOO LONG! OR TOO WEIRD…

“Do you think they’d watch?” he asks. “Do you think they’d enjoy the sight of your naked flesh on display? Maybe they would get off on seeing your dripping pussy reflected back at them everywhere they look. Or the pretty flush on your chest when you come. I think they’d even enjoy watching your eyes roll to the back of your head when my cock fills you so fully, you can’t fit any more of me inside you.”

That’s from haunting Adeline… and… just.. no. NONONONO ITS DISGUSTING ITS GROSS…. WHO TF SAYS THAT BRO. Why is tHIS BOOK SO POPuLAR

more gross examples: “You want to know what I’d do?” he questions. “I would let them watch. I would let them watch me claim you as mine and own every inch of your body. They would watch my cock fill every one of your holes and then watch you cry because of how hard you came. And then I’d fucking kill them. My cock would still be wet from your cum as I’d slice their throats for even daring to look at what’s mine.”

dont write like that guys… like ew. Just ew

also.. epithets.. ok idk what they’re called because English = not my first language but

like

”his member” “sword” “love button” “seed” “her peaks/ nubs”

look my dude if you can read a smut scene like “he inserted his sword inside her cavern and spewed his seed inside her while fondling her mounds” then sure pop off I guess but tbh

no.

JUST USE COCK DICK AND PUSSY OR SOMETHING IDK WHY U GOTTA DO THIS TO ME I WILL NEVER BE ABLE TO SEE CERTAIN THINGS THE SAME WAY EVER AGAIN

“his member” I’m sorry is his dick joining a club?

anywaysysystst

research human body stuff. Like, dicks need to recharge before they get hard again yk

“Recharge” idk bro yk what I mean

cumming more than once for women do be kinda painful unless there’s an amount of time in between the orgasms

like depends on the woman, can range from a couple of hours to at least a whole day

although this doesn’t apply to everyone and some people do just go for it a bunch of times in one session so it’s a very variable thing

so yeah! Make sure to educate urself on biology

spemd more time talking about how they feel physically and emotionally than what they are doing so that the scene actually does have some depth

consistency! I have read shit that goes along the lines of “he grabbed her waist then with his other hand stroked her cheek and then she wrapped her legs around his feet and he pressed his elbow againts her knee flipping her upside down while she nibbled on his ear” how am I supposed to imagine any of that

they keep sprouting a third arm

or do things that completely contradict the position that they are in.. he can’t slap ur ass if ur in the cowgirl position..well, not very comfortably

so. Consistency! :)

that’s all for now ermmmm so yah tell me if this was helpful guys

[zoe-oneesama]

On a serious note, why do you not like Derision? I mean, I can guess why, but I’m genuinely curious to hear your thoughts (if you want to).

What have they done to my boy?!

I guess we'll start with the whole "trauma" thing since that's how the episode starts - with Marinette going on a date with Adrien at the pool but constantly getting heart palpitations at the very idea of it. And not good lovey-dovey crush ones like Sabine thinks. The Actual Panic Attack kind.

This just feels unnecessary AND too late. Unnecessary because there are plenty of pre-established reasons why Marinette could be hesitant to go all in with Adrien (Being Ladybug, the 354th other times going for Adrien has failed or left her humiliated, Being Ladybug). So I don't know why they invented a trauma for her in the final hour and didn't think it was worth talking about before now?

They really came up with this whole scheme to explain why Marinette does Marinette things, like learning Adrien's schedule, planning out everything before she tries to make a move, needing to know everything about him, as if the show hasn't been mocking her for these exact traits and allowing them to blow up in her face over and over again. But NOW it's due to her TRAUMA. So...retroactively when her friends laughed at her or slapped their foreheads in frustration or the show framed her failures as a joke...we know it's actually from a tragic place and can't laugh anymore.

I mean, I was never laughing, but you get what I mean. They framed it like it was part of the comedy and now they're pulling the rug out from under themselves. How are you supposed to laugh when Adrien brings Marinette constipation medicine, or when her pictures of him are blasted all over Paris Television, or the *ugh* Statue Scene plays out and now you know that this is just adding to her pre-existing trauma? They have shot the show's rewatch value.

I never thought Marinette needed a "reason" act the way she was because those were always just kinda The Things Teenage Girls Do when they have a crush. I've admitted in the past to learning my crush's class schedule just to orchestrate running into each other in the hallways more often, and if their crush had public interviews and magazine pictures, I'm pretty sure most kids would also cut out their pictures to keep and would read and remember the interviews. I never really saw her behavior as that weird for a girl her age with a crush and recognize some cartoon exaggeration.

...Stealing his phone was a little weird, though, I'll give them that though Alya is the one who suggested it first...

SO, we enter a long flashback to One Year Ago (with Marinette now on her third Almost-Akumatization, good lord) and learn what life was like for Marinette pre-Origins, and oh boy. It's hell. She's making up illnesses to avoid school, avoiding all contact with anyone in the courtyard, having cockroaches put in her locker, having the Principal catch her "late" for class (after she had to clean herself up from a water prank), gets yelled at by the teacher for being late, sits in paint, mocked in class and then yelled at again by the teacher for pointing out the person mocking her probably planted it, and gets Saturday detention. All in one day. And when anyone tries to talk to her or even glares at the person responsible, they get threatened too.

The main reason this is hell is because Marinette is being let down by every single adult in her life. Sabine just laughs and tells Marinette that she only has a few weeks left with Chloe and it's not like she'll be in the same class as her next year.🙃 Well, why don't you make SURE she doesn't?! Maybe this is just an American vs French school thing, but where I come from, it's totally within your rights to request that your child not be put in the same class as someone else, they could at least put in a throw away line about her parents TRYING to move her, but Chloe's not allowing it JUST to keep Marinette close to her. And maybe take this a little more seriously, Sabine- your daughter is faking illness to avoid One. Girl. That should be concerning, not "lol my daughter is so silly for trying to get out of class."

Damocles finds Marinette and yells at her for being "constantly late" and praising the "anonymous notes" (signed by Chloe -_-) for always alerting him when she's behind, and then later gives her Saturday detention for...someone clearly planting paint on her desk chair? He sees a victim of bullying and punishes her for it. At the end of the episode he even suspends Socqueline for something that happened outside of school, yet in "Jubilation" she's pumping him up as The Best Principal?! Does this show thinks we're stupid or something?!

Mendeleiev also yells at Marinette for being late. She allows Chloe to make fun of Marinette for looking depressed when she comes in and allows Chloe to mock Marinette for sitting in paint, but when Marinette doesn't even stand up for herself but just accuses Chloe of putting the paint there, THEN Mendeleiev has something to say, and it's to Marinette? For "groundlessly" accusing the only person in the room laughing at Marinette, the one who was just making fun of her, the one who kept her eyes on Marinette so she could watch her sit in the paint?

Marinette tells Socqueline that all the adults are scared of Chloe, but that's not what I saw. Sure, at the end of the episode Damocles is afraid when Chloe pulls a "Lady Wifi" to force him to punish Socqueline for smashing Sabrina's phone, but the sequence of events played out more like the adults participating in the bullying. It wasn't like Damocles was sympathetic to Marinette and then Chloe cleared her throat, so he straightened up nervously and started berating Marinette. It wasn't like Marinette accused Chloe and then Chloe glared at Mendeleiev, forcing her to finally intervene. All the adults see what's going on and are either completely oblivious or don't care.

Also, Chloe totally unprompted says this:

GET A LIFE, what is your PROBLEM?! Like, why have a flashback episode and not have it explain what Chloe's fixation on Marinette even is?! It doesn't have to be big or anything! Like, have Marinette trip and spill something on Chloe in art class! Just do something!

And like, I totally get that irl bullies just choose their targets for no real reason and this is just another example of that, but to this level?! Just...get a hobby!

And then there's the big thing they did in this stupid episode. The unforgivable. The reprehensible.

This fucking guy.

It's been so long since we've seen Bully Kim that I was pretty sure he was left behind entirely on the draft floor. Sure, Kim is still capable of being insensitive or not thinking long-term, but he was a good kid. He roots for his friends and wants everyone to have a good time.

Hell, I could even buy that Kim was dumb enough to believe Chloe when she claims what he did was a funny practical joke that they'd all laugh about later...until Socqueline came up and yelled at him that he should be ashamed of himself.

And Ondine yelled at him in the present that he should be ashamed of himself.

And it's a year later and he should have realized by now that he should be ashamed of himself.

Kim is dumb, that's just a fact, but the way he doubles down and is so sure of himself that NO it's everyone ELSE who has a problem because they can't take a JOKE? Like...why?! Why did they co-sign on this character assassination?!

Just make him become akumatized because he's A S H A M E D of what he did now that he's finally sitting down and thinking about it a year later! He can keep the same look and motif, just have Monarch stroke the part of him that doesn't want him to be the jerk, the old Kim! It's totally normal, especially for a kid, to want to believe that they're not the bad guy even with all the evidence pointing to it, so I could even see the akuma being exactly the same.

But naur, it's KIM who talks like a right-wing podcast douche bag, complaining that you can't just speak your mind these days and everyone needs to get a sense of humor, they just don't GET it man, this is just how he IS brah, take it or leave it! His akuma's even named "Dark Humor", like edgy losers on reddit who make racist/sexist jokes and then get mad when he's downvoted and boo'd out of a forum. God, we just CAN'T TAKE A JOKE I guess.

I'm glad this is resolved by Ladybug gluing a toilet to his head.

I just...I feel like this could've worked in Season 1, or Season 2. Like...put it before Dark Cupid or before Syren or something. That way, Kim being a total douche is the starting point of his character arc, not the Season 5 Post-Hero Run point, ugh.

It'd also make this stupid line make more sense:

I'm sorry, the girl who got you akumatized after she humiliated you in nearly the same way you humiliated Marinette? I guess that was "just a prank bro" too, right?

Establish Marinette's problems with romance early, so she can overcome them or at least give them the proper context. It'd at least make the show look better if they hadn't made fun of her for 4 Seasons only to drop this bombshell on us at the end. You know...the thing that they just did.

This episode just isn't fun. I hated "Illusion" because all you get to see is the bad guys winning and outsmarting the heroes, but "Derision" is a marathon of seeing the absolute misery Marinette was put through, just to jump forward to the present to destroy a character that I really liked.

Would a kid even like this episode?

[kechiwrites]

meant for each other

toxic baby daddy!ghost x reader

3/?

synopsis: after ruining your very rare date night, ghost has some choice words for you.

wc: 2.3k

cw: afab!reader, a bit of dom!ghost, angst, choking, headlock (the hot kind), language, unprotected sex, creampies, jerking off, threats of a facial (is that a thing?), possessive!ghost, threat of cervix penetration (that is a thing, my friend taught me so). no use of y/n ever.

author’s note: for the anon asking for very toxic ghost (i couldn’t go too hard tho, he still wants redemption after all)

read this first for context or don't! It’s pretty stand-alone friendly. mdni

Cutting your date short had been humiliating to say the least. Neil had been polite, but undeniably angry and uncomfortable, slapping his credit card down to cover both of your drinks and your unfinished appetizers before leaving the restaurant. 

The car ride home is filled with a choking tense silence, one Neil only breaks when he pulls into your driveway, putting his car into park behind Ghost’s giant “fuck-off” SUV.

“Look, I get that the co-parenting thing is difficult, but you may want to decide whether you and your ex are really over or not before you decide to go on a date again.” Your chest burns with embarrassment, you’re grown, this should not be happening to you. This night should’ve ended with this man’s head between your thighs at least, now you’ll be lucky if he doesn’t block you before you get through your front door.

You nod along, if only to have whatever painfully awkward lecture he’s trying to give end as soon as possible. “I know. I’m sorry, Neil. He wasn’t supposed to-” You cut yourself off. Obviously Ghost wasn’t supposed to show up to your first date in years, with your son in tow no less. “He shouldn’t have been there. He has a problem with boundaries.” And keeping his hands off your ass in public, apparently.

“Right. Well, I think maybe there’s some stuff you two need to talk about.” Neil is short and dismissive, and sure, you get where he’s coming from but your contriteness is slowly curdling into anger with every pedantic word. 

“Understatement of the goddamn century.” you speak under your breath, “Thank you Neil.” You grit through your teeth, tossing him a half hearted goodbye before you tear out of his car, bone tired and almost shaking with irritation, into your dimly lit driveway. The cream colour of your front door sings to you like a siren, teasing at the peaceful, uncomplicated oasis that lies behind it, at least until you remember what’s in there waiting for you. Neil pulls his car out of your driveway before you can even fish your keys out and you kiss that avenue of relief goodbye forever. 

Your exhaustion seems to double when you cross your home's threshold to find Ghost sitting on your couch, manspreading like he fucking lived there. Like he belongs there. A headache is already beginning to build in the back of your skull, and you just pray to god he’ll say whatever he wants to say quickly and fucking bail. Your skin feels like it’s weighted down when you drop your bag on the carpet by your door, legs heavy as lead while you toe off your shoes.

“Welcome home.” Beyond the rise and fall of his chest and shoulders he barely moves an inch, keeping his attention glued to your television, more eyeballing the sitcom rerun than actually watching it. You were not going to rise to his provocation. He was going to get the silent treatment from you, you wouldn’t utter a goddamn word-

“You were so out of line tonight.” You stomp all over your own vow before you even finish making it, letting your annoyance and his arrogance win out.

You’d meant for your accusation to sound more angry, but your fatigue seeps into every word and sucks out all the venom.

“Sure. Come here.” He spreads his thighs wider, until there’s a, frankly miniscule, space on the couch between his fucking tree-trunk legs, assumedly created for you to sit in.

“You want to act like a fucking child, leave my baby out of it.” You stay rooted to the spot, not because you're tempted to follow his command, you’re just worried you’ll attempt to slap the shit out of the soldier. 

“Our baby.” He grunts, folding his arms across his chest. His bandana is back in place, but somehow he still manages to look petulant. 

You’re going to need to see a doctor about your blood pressure for sure.

“You know what, Ghost? I’m here, I assume Thomas is asleep, so you’re done for the night. I suggest you go wherever the fuck it is you go when you aren’t here making my life hell. Oh and next time-”

“Enough.” He thunders, and your jaw snaps shut. It’s a special talent of his to feel so intimidating even when sitting in the midst of a painfully suburban living room. God knows where he learned it or why. “Come here. I won’t ask you again.” The dark tone of his voice shoots up your spine and pushes your body into action, heart thudding in time with your footsteps. Your ex watches you comply, eyes heavily lidded when you stand in front of him, looking down at the exposed half of his face, the twice broken crookedness of his nose bridge, the long lashes rimming his eyes. 

“What? Do you want?” You hiss, hands balling into fists at your sides. 

“Sit.” You start to obey, you figure you know what he wants and it’s hard to deny him when you’d had hopes of riding the guy you’d met at the convenience store into the sunset. You attempt to straddle him, raising your knee to the sofa before he stops you.

“No.” He murmurs, heavy hand on your shoulder. “Like this.” He pushes you down until you’re kneeling between his thighs. Until he eclipses your vision and the warm, off-white light of your living room forms a halo around his head from above. Ghost makes quick work of his fly, fishing his half hard dick out of the open zipper. He pumps a broad, rough hand over the length of it, working himself over until his erection is full, angry red, and leaking precum onto the tip of your nose. Your gaze bounces from his cock to his face and back again. Eventually, he decides his precum isn’t enough. 

“Stick your tongue out.” He groans, circling a hand around the root of his length, and angling it towards you. You do as you're told, palms sweating where they sit uselessly on your lap. You’re sure you make a pretty picture. Soft, obedient, pathetic. Weak when it comes to him. Weak when it comes to getting what you think you need.

Ghost drags the ruddy head of his cock over the slick pad of your tongue, once, twice, three times, until the salt and skin taste addles your brain. The sound of your spit against his heat under the heavy jerks of his hand fills your ears, shaking loose your last little bit of dignity. All of a sudden you couldn’t care less that the lecture you’d planned to deliver is being swallowed down in favour of drooling over the dripping head of Ghost's dick. You couldn’t care less that he’d ruined any chance of a second date with Nicholas or Nate or whatever the fuck his name had been. 

“Do not move.” He spits, teeth clenched, while he works his hand over his length, his free hand keeps you crumpled below him, so he can fill your sight with the heavy, veined curve of his cock, brushing your lips and the tip of your nose with his knuckles while he fists himself.

His cheeks flush the softest shade of pink and his barrel chest heaves as he gets closer to finishing over your face. Satisfied with your position, he removes the hand weighing down your shoulder and lifts your face. 

“Knees.” You almost sob with relief when you turn to face away from him, letting him carelessly tear your jeans and underwear from your body, exposing the soft, slick lips of your cunt to the open air. 

The solid thunk of his knees meeting the hardwood floor of the living room is the only warning that preempts him breaching the warm clutch of your insides. He fucks into you slowly, slower than you ever thought possible, and you wonder whether it’s to stop himself from coming or to punish you further. His hulking frame bends over you, covering your back with his obscene warmth, even through your clothes. His zipper scratches you when he forces your pussy to accommodate his girth, filling you over and over until you're punch-drunk and gasping, hands slipping against the floor with every hard thrust and grind against you. Ghost’s hips rock and stutter when you cry out, bending further down, bringing his mouth to your ear to hiss at you to shut the fuck up, lest you wake your son. 

You’re stuck oscillating between sighing or crying, stuck wanting to surrender and wanting to fight back, screaming and shouting and grasping at straws to get you the fuck out of this because you’re frightened. You are scared of him, of what he can do and has done. To you, to your son. You’re scared that ultimately, deep down, you are meant for each other. Meant to stay locked to one another, holding hands while you inevitably sink into deep black nothing, choking on each other’s frustrations and wants, your shortcomings and would-be’s. 

Empty and unchanged. Fighting the same fights, wishing the same wishes. 

Then, Ghost speaks your fears into reality.

"You're mine," he huffs over you and you are so thankful he can't see how you need to bite your wrist to stop from moaning aloud. When he finally lets up, leaving your back woefully cold, he clamps his palm around the back of your neck and pushes, until your cheek is crushed against the floor and he can mount you properly, fucking you with what feels like all his strength, his leg hitched up to reach deeper, so deep it almost hurts.

"Hate me all you want now, but that kid back there means you will always belong to me. I will always be the man who gave him to you. No matter what poor sod you try to replace me with, I'll be the one who makes you feel like this. Eventually things will go back to how they're supposed to be.”

It’s probably the most words he’s said all week, in your presence anyway. It chokes you, fills your mouth, your lungs until that familiar drowning sensation threatens to pull you under. But not before you hear him mutter to himself;

“They have to.”

You can barely breathe underneath the pressure Ghost seems to bring with him everywhere. When you don’t respond to his claim (as if you could say anything with him taking your mind apart piece by piece), he hooks his arm around your throat, pulling you up against his chest, which of course, doesn’t make breathing any easier. Ghost drags his teeth over the shell of your ear, dropping his free hand low to draw small, deliberate circles against your clit. Air flees from your lungs while your hips twitch to follow along with his hand. The tip of his dick brushes your cervix and you yelp in response, the inevitable throbbing pain sending a lightning bolt right to your brain, and accompanied with the feeling of breathlessness, the sensation forces you to come over the length of his cock, the slick walls of your pussy clenching tight around him. When his arm finally slackens, you slump in his hold, eager to draw in lungfuls of precious air while Ghost batters the inside of your cunt while he continues to hold you upright. You groan loudly and he covers your mouth with his palm, soaked in your arousal. The light overhead feels like it’s blinding you, your skin feels raw and exposed, nerves on nerves that Ghost plucks and brushes to reduce you to rubble, nothing more than ruins underneath his practiced hands. 

You screw your eyes shut, heavy breaths from your nose are the only thing keeping you from blacking out, your pulse pounds in your throat while your mind tries to catch up with your body. 

Ghost lets his forehead fall to your shoulder and he finishes inside you, murmuring something you can’t hear while his hips knock into yours. He’s tense against you, before his limbs go languid and soft, brushing his half-covered nose against the side of your neck. You bat uselessly at the arm circling your midsection with a shaky fist, urging your ex to release you. It’s too much, you can smell him on your skin, feel him drip down the inside of your thigh, and you need it to be over now. He complies and you fall forward, unprepared for the sudden weightlessness. In a flash, his hands are back on you, grasping at your forearms and pulling you against him. It’s a breeze for him to drag your lax body onto the couch and cover you with the flimsy throw blanket you usually just laid over the back of the sofa. Your mind spins with the change of position. You don’t even know when he’d pulled out of you. 

For now, you’re just content to have the heavy curtain of sleep close on the events of the day, the funny little tragedy that your life has become. Content to have Ghost tuck you in and pull his favourite disappearing act. 

You mumble dreamily; “The invisible boyfriend!” Your arm flailing upwards in a mock flourish. You think that maybe, you hear him laugh at you. A quiet huff of air, muffled by a skull themed bandana. You think that maybe, you hear him flick the lights off in the house, like you usually do before bed. You think that maybe, you hear him check on Tommy in his room, cuddled into what is undoubtedly too many stuffed toys for his tiny mattress. You think that maybe, he sits on the floor by the couch and goes back to watching television while you drift off into a dreamless sleep, resting his head against your blanket-covered knee.

But, like always, he’s gone when you wake up. So maybe what you think you heard doesn't really matter.

series masterlist here

[meegadeeth]

☆ 𝐁𝐄𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝟖𝟎’𝐒!𝐉𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒 𝐇𝐄𝐓𝐅𝐄𝐈𝐋𝐃𝐒 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 𝐁𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒 (+𝐁𝐋𝐔𝐑𝐁𝐒) - 𝐅𝐄𝐌!𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑 ☆

people included/mentioned; james hetfield, lars ulrich, kirk hammett, dave mustaine, cliff burton

....................................☆.................................…

☆ first off, bro is aggressive asf when play fighting & does not feel bad at all. he will literally throw you across the room & tell you to stop being sensitive.

you and james had honestly been messing around at first, gently shoving each other. then, it escalated and you guys were having a full on match. you shoved him a little harder, causing his back to hit the wall. suddenly, you were picked up and thrown onto the couch—which is better than the floor, but damn it still hurts. “james alan! that hurt!” you yelled. “oh, come on, y/n. that wasn’t anything.” he rolled his eyes. “you threw me across the fucking room!” you argued. “yeah? you landed on the couch, you’re fine.”

☆ you call him james alan or alan when you’re annoyed/angry with him & he hates it—but soon grew to accept it.

“james, clean up your shit.” you had said. his clothes were everywhere along with some picks and his hat. “calm down, i’ll get it.” james rolled his eyes. “i’m not taking the fucking attitude today, james alan. pick it up now.” james huffed at the mention of his middle name, grabbing his stuff and putting it where it goes.

☆ you’re literally the “where’s james?” or “where’s y/n?” duo when one of you aren’t with each other.

james showed up at rehearsal, kirk and lars ushering up to him. “wait, where’s y/n?” kirk asked. “how am i supposed to know?” james mumbled, being overly hungover. “well, i’m gonna assume you’ll see her later. give her hair straightener back.” kirk handed it over. “why would you need a hair straightener?” james slightly squinted his eyes under the lights as he looked up. “don’t worry about it.” “HE FINALLY LET Y/N STRAIGHTEN HIS HAIR!” lars yelled, causing james to slightly wince—the slight pounding in his head getting heavier. “oh, sorry—look at this.” lars handed over the polaroid photo of kirk with straight hair.

☆ ngl i feel like you’d defend him a lot since james was more nervous & stuff like that. i feel like that would happen a lot in the 80s with lars & dave—when an argument gets too far. all james can do is laugh because the person you just told off is kinda shocked.

james and dave were arguing about something that you didn’t even care about, really. it was something dumb. but, the two were aimlessly going back and forth. suddenly, dave said something that crossed the line a little. before james could utter a word, you had slapped dave; sure, it wasn’t brutal, but it wasn’t light either. “did you just slap me?” dave asked, looking at you in disbelief. “yes, i did,” you started, looking up at dave—no matter the height, it didn’t bother you when it came to james—“now, why do you think it would be okay to say something like that?” dave started, but you didn’t let him answer. “that doesn’t matter actually. you shouldn’t have said it at all. watch your mouth.” dave stayed silent for a few seconds before grumbling, “alright…” and james couldn’t help but laugh, along with lars.

☆ along with keeping other people in check, you also gotta keep james in check—cause everybody makes mistakes.

let’s be honest. james can and is a dick. you love him, but he’s a dick. you had been at a party and james had got defensive over something, he hadn’t told you the whole story, so now you had him dragged him to a corner, sitting in a chair. “james. alan. hetfield. what is your problem?” you said as you made him sit down. “he was being a dick…” james mumbled, looking at his lap, embarrassed at the fact that you had just sat him down like a mother in front of everyone. “so? you have to ignore people like that, james. you have to be mature.” you raised your brows, trying to get the message across. “but-“ you cut him off, “no. i’m not hearing it. either you proceed with a mature attitude, or we leave now. you choose.” “fine…”

☆ people assume you are sister & brother to the point where you both go with it. you don’t even have to look similar, it’s the way you both are assholes to each other lmao.

you and the guys were out, ordering food. james was the one who got handed the food and then distributed it to whoever ordered it. “alright, and this is your sisters.” the old women sat down the food in front of james and he pushed it across the table towards you with a careless manner. when the waitress walked away, lars snickered, “did she say ‘your sister’?” james nodded, “yeah, i think so.” “but you don’t even look alike.” kirk stated, confused. “oh, i know. he’s ugly as hell—i don’t know why people think that we come from the same person.” you said, shooting a playful glare at james.

☆ nobody is allowed to be mean to you except him.

it had been in the morning and cliff was cooking breakfast, lars and kirk were going through old shit that kirk found. you were helping cliff every now and again, while james was just stuck in the middle of everyone, sitting on the counter. it had been the morning, so no one was really ready for anything. it’s wasn’t a problem until james spoke up, “y/n, you look like shit, not gonna lie.” lars laughed, looking up from the box kirk had. “yeah? what about you?” you retorted. “i mean, he’s not wrong.” lars butted in, his attention no longer on kirk and the box at all. “hey, fuck off and mind your business.” james voice was a little higher, defensive even. “it’s not that serious, but whatever.” lars rolled his eyes.

☆ bro is somehow always in your house. you can change your lock & shit but you always find him asleep on your couch in the morning.

you came out of your room to find james, asleep on your couch. you sighed, annoyed. you had told this fucker to stop breaking into your house when he need’s to crash. you smacked him in the forehead. “mm..ow! what..?” james stretched and covered his face from any more of your hits. “how the hell did you get in here?” you asked, sitting on the couch by his feet. “the window. where else would i get in?” he shrugged, sitting up. “the door, maybe?!” you suggested. “i can’t! you took the fucking key!”

☆ if one of you goes out & gets food you always get something for the other.

you had got to metallica’s apartment after work. james and lars had been practicing while kirk and cliff were all spread out on the couch, probably blazed. james stopped playing as you walked in, fishing something from his pocket. he handed you a half eaten mcdonald’s sandwich. you took it with disgust etched all over your face. “hey, it’s the thought that counts, dickhead. eat it.” james rolled his eyes when he looked up and saw your face. you eventually ate the nasty sandwich, that was once pocketed, so james would stop bitching.

☆ you help (not really) each other with hangovers.

you were rudely woken up by james. he had thrown your door open, flicked on the lights and set food down on your bedside table, “morning, sunshine!” he yelled sarcastically. “stop..go away..” you covered your face with the pillow, attempting to block out the light.

☆ you guys will literally rip each other apart with insults but in such a casual situation.

“move over, dickhead.” you said, shoving james out of the way. “okay, calm down, you asshole.” “blonde bitch.” “whore.” “man-whore.” “sensitive anne.” “cunt.” “you’re the closest to a cunt!” “whatever, that’s why you complain all the time!” “okay, you’re ugly as hell.” “you look like a wet rat coming out of the sewer!” “fuck you!” “fuck you!” as you guys yelled at each other, kirk and lars exchanged glances before looking at cliff, eliciting a shrug from him.

☆ you’re his wingman because he’s awkward.

you and the guys had gone to a party, which meant you and james were stuck side by side. you attempted to have conversations with him, but he seemed distracted. “what are you looking at?” you asked as you attempted to find what he was staring at. he shrugged, but you eventually figured out it was this pretty girl at the bar. “you have a crush?” you teased. “oh, shut up. don’t say ‘crush’, we’re not in the 7th grade.” he huffed softly. “fine. you should go talk to her though.” “me? dude, be serious.” “i am—you’re literally james hetfield. go talk to her.” you urged him on. “no no no no no!” he clung onto your arm, staying in his spot. “well, how will she know you think she’s cute?” “can you go talk to her?” “james, you’re 22.” “y/n, please?” “fine, fine.” you huffed, replacing your expression with a smile and walking over to her.

☆ he expects you to remember important dates.

james walked out of his room, “hey, is it sound check today, y/n?” he ran his fingers through his messy hair. you shrugged. “how do you not know?” he asked, sounding annoyed already. “why would i know? it’s not my band.” you pointed out. “i told you to remember!”

☆ the way he styles his hair & shit is ultimately up to you lmao. no matter what other advice anyone tries to give him, it only matters what you say.

“what about this?” james asked you, he was wearing a pair of jeans and a t-shirt with his leather jacket. “oh my god, i told you it looks good!” lars yelled from the other room. james ignored him, still looking at you for your opinion. “um..it’s good, but change the shirt. pick a lighter shirt.” you said, offering your advice. “no! you’re not changing the shirt—let’s go!” lars complained. “how can i trust you? y/n said to change it.” james argued back.

☆ mandatory movie nights. don’t you dare try to cancel.

“what do you wanna watch tonight?” james asked, plopping down on a kitchen seat as you made breakfast. “um…actually something came up tonight.” you said, trying to gently break it to him. “who died?” he asked. “nobody. what do you mean?” you turned to look at him with a confused look. “well, if no one’s dying or dead, i hope you don’t think you’re getting out of movie night then.” james shrugged. “dude, i’m serious. i’m having a girls night.” you explained to him. “oh, please! do it tomorrow! i wanna watch children of the corn!” he complained, basically telling more than asking. “james..” you attempted to reason with him. “y/n…come on….pretend we’re two girls or something watching a movie during girls night.” you bursted into laughter. james threw his arms up, “what?! i’m trying to help you get past this oh-so-terrible night you’ll have with me since you, apparently, can’t watch movies with me anymore!”

☆ you’re stuck helping him with guitar riffs.

“can you help me?” he asked, playing a couple of notes to a riff he was working on. “sure.” you walked over and played some string while the guitar was still in his lap, attempting to help. “yeah, but that doesn’t sound right.” he groaned, annoyed. “okay, i’m sorry. you asked me to help, so i tried.” you backed up, giving him space. “no, no, i still need help. get back here.” so, you attempted to help him again. short story later, he complained the whole time you tried to help him and ultimately finished it by himself.

☆ if you don’t play the guitar—or know much about riffs in general—this one connects to helping him with riff even if you don’t know what that shit means.

“how does this sound?” he asked, playing a guitar riff. “james, i told you already.” you sighed. “what’s your problem today? just help me!” “i don’t know what this shit means, you idiot!” you yelled. you both glared at each other for a second before james pointed to the door. “no help? no hang out. go.” he pointed his finger to the door. “good! can’t stand you anyway!” you rolled your eyes, leaving the room.

☆ he’s not a very feeling type of person so when he get’s really drunk & you take him home—he’ll tell you how appreciative he is of you & how you’re a really good best friend.

“alright, come on..” you whispered, one of james arms wrapped around your shoulders for support. “y/n..?” james slightly trailed off as you walked him to his room in the dimly lit apartment. “yeah?” james swallowed before mumbling, “i know…i tell you i hate you a lot, but i don’t..” you had to refrain from laughing, leading him to his bed, “it’s alright, i know, okay?” you attempted to console him in his drunken state. “no..’m serious. you..do a lot for me..” you let out a small laugh, covering him up with a blanket. “and you’re my best friend…love you so much..” although, you found the situation funny, it was also sweet. “i know, i love you so much too. get to sleep.” he muttered something incoherently as you shut the lights off and gently shut his door.

☆ he tells you to quit being sensitive or to stop acting like a girl all the time.

as you walked out of your bathroom in the morning, james was wide awake. you assumed he had just got back from a party—but whatever it was, you jumped. “jesus! quit doing that shit!” you breathed, after it had caught in your throat. “what shit?” his expression was confused but also slightly amused. “scaring me!” you sat on the couch. “oh, quit being a girl, y/n.” james rolled his eyes. “being a girl?” “yeah.” he simply answered. “right…isn’t that why your hair is longer than mine?” you mumbled. “what?” “nothing.”

....................................☆....................................

- 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐧 💿🎸🎥👽🎱🎧🥁🎫

a/n: thanks to @dyersseve for requesting! i’m sorry if this kinda sucked. :(

[edensremains]

consequences

↳ summary: vox’s ars goetia girlfriend doesn’t like the limelight but you know who does? him!

↳want to see Vox in pain? there’s a part two!

↳ not my fav piece but it’s There, there’s a second part to this but it’s Vox going through it. I wrote this for myself before and edited it up….. this feels TOO indulgent like Dulce Vida😭 it’s almost midnight let me get my ass to bed… i haven’t watched helluva boss yet so ars goetia being nobility is all i know my fault yall LMFOAOOOOOO

Vox loved to be in the limelight. His girlfriend did not.

You were a person that didn’t enjoy being paraded around like a commodity, and you weren’t one! But Vox was a very public person by nature, and it was practically expected that when Vox entered a relationship, he’d make an announcement to all of Hell on a broadcast showing off his beloved. It’s not like you two were exactly subtle about their relationship, not very much anyways, you were the only one who really tried to uphold that rule of yours around the cameras. Vox loved to stress you out by practically hanging off you whenever one of his millions of cameras fixated on you two during a live broadcast.

To the public, you were an Ars Goetia that was taking an interest in the Vee’s which did wonders for their reputation, and you’d had a hand in a couple of their marketing decisions as well as their internal division. To the Vee’s, you were just Vox’s girlfriend who was practically royalty that lorded over them when they’d act up, which caused a lot of friction at first. Quick to snip them back into line whenever risky decisions that could impact their reputation were about to happen, they didn’t end up liking that much. Although you didn’t enjoy getting involved you knew that the Vee’s reputation was important to Vox, which meant you had to give a fuck if Velvette was getting into trouble or Valentino was seconds away from storming away with one of his guns in hand headed straight for the public.

As time passed, the two eased up around you and hesitantly began to accept these new circumstances. After more time, they’d come to see you as Vox’s girlfriend who lived with them and stuck around every day, just like them. Which meant Velvette could get a free model on short notice and Valentino could try and get her in the studio when he was down one whore.

…Over Vox’s dead fucking body was he letting his girlfriend star in a porno with some other fucking bastard touching you in any way, sometimes he could barely handle Valentino touching you on his more stressful days. Velvette was fine, you looked stunning in anything she made you wear.

The silence in-between those times was getting to him though.

Everything is about reputation and with you being an Ars Goetia, which is the closest thing to the royal family there is without actually being royally tied, it could elevate the Vee’s status in the eyes of hell just by association. It could have been a great story for the news, if you weren’t so vehemently against revealing your relationship to the entirety of Hell. Vox didn’t actually care for keeping things under wraps, but he likes to pretend just to keep you quiet on the matter and avoid yet another argument about the subject. Doesn’t mean he won’t still grab you by your waist and pull you in every second he can. So what if the camera’s are on? He’s allowed to want to hold his girlfriend. If his hands roam a bit, you can just slap them away like always.

Even so, he pissed you off this time.

During a broadcast, you’d agreed to make a guest appearance for their reality show in the Vee tower, it was supposed to be a focus on Velvette today with her day in the life section. Vox never took the need to hide your relationship secret too seriously, so the other Vee’s didn’t either. After her part playing model for Velvette, she’d gone ahead and retired to Vox’s floor of the tower. Sandwiched between Valentino and Vox, you were laid across their laps and idly scrolling through her phone. Valentino was pressing kisses against your neck as he watched you, trying to get you to set down the phone for your second unofficial boyfriend. Vox? He was watching the broadcast as it was playing out, it wasn’t often they did it live after all. It was risky, but it provided good content when Velvette could interact with the viewers comments immediately.

It was going great until he shifted his attention away for one moment to press a kiss to your wrist before Velvette bounded in through the doors, the camera pointed right at the three on the couch.

“Here they are—? Couldn’t fuckin’ find Val for a second but here he is! See his coat? You’d think I did that shit, but the fluff and all isn’t me, that’s actually his wings. He can alter them or whatever. Yoo-hoo, lovebirds! The two boyfriends and their girlfriend, give us a hoot!” Velvette grinned as she kept her eyes on the stream, unaware of just how deep your reluctance to be in the public eye went as she gave the camera a shake in your direction.

Immediately, Vox felt you stiffen, practically shoving the two off yourself before giving Vox a look. “Velvette!” You hissed, your eyes wide and panicked. Vox, sensing the immediate shift in mood, swiped his hand over a glass panel and the broadcast cut off, ending the show’s episode with a bang. He barely got a word in before you were storming out, heading to your own room on the floor (not that you ever used it, really, Vox’s had plenty of room for the two of you and more), slamming the door behind you and clicking all the digital locks.

Now two hours later, Vox had finally deactivated the electronic locks and let himself in after your refusal to come out. He wasn’t going to wipe the broadcast, the views were already skyrocketing beyond their usual at the announcement. Everyone seemed happy for them! What’s the big fucking deal? It’s not like anyone was really surprised. Maybe that fuck ass mentor of hers was, the one who kept her away from them every now and then for training away from the Pride ring; but who cares about that bastard really? Maybe the nobility or whatever.

Valentino was pacing around, practically twitching with the urge to go in himself and drag you back out himself. Probably to shake her around back and forth, trying to assure himself that you weren’t mad at him for some godforsaken reason that he couldn’t immediately fix with sex. Velvette on the other hand, almost tore him a new one when he’d explained the very strict rule you had about publicity. She’d guessed they were just waiting to announce it and decided to crash and do it for them, not that you were vehemently against it.

“Baby, please. You can’t stay in here forever, what’s the big deal? Velvette didn’t mean it, you know that.” Vox began with a playful lilt to his voice, stepping into the room and closing the door behind him. He’d deactivated all the locks after getting sick of trying to convince you to let him in. Why should he have to beg to see you face to face in his own home?

“What the fuck do you mean what’s the big deal?” You hissed, your wings flaring out behind you as you paced around the room, your hands in tight fists beside you. “The entirety of Hell knows about us! I was fucking— I hated even making myself known to help out the Vee’s but I did it for you! Vox, this is too far, you know that.”

“Babe. If this is about the attention, it’s all positive and shit! They all love you. Everyone suspected we were too close anyways, they’re all eating out of our hands right now. Royal gossip and all that junk! Why are you being like this?” His digital screen displayed a frown and furrowed brows, his sharp claws coming up to try and touch your wing gently before you turned away, your wings pinning to your side flatly as if burned by his attempt.

Distance, silence, anger, rejection. This was all wrong. You looked like a goddamn cornered bird, wings flared in defense with a low sound emitting from your throat. It made something odd stir inside him, a desire to reclaim, to soothe her, to possess or reassert himself.

“Come on, baby, you know I hate it when we’re not on the same wavelength. Talk to me, please?” He tried to coax you into calming down enough to talk to him without it brewing into a full blown argument, his voice sickeningly sweet as he let his hand fall back to his side, although it irritated him to have to be complacent yet again about this issue. Why couldn’t you just accept the fame? You’re already at the top of the ladder, what’s some more? “They all love you and I. No one is rioting like you think they are.”

“It’s not about that.” You snap, then your expression flickers for a moment, a trace of guilt. There it is.

He doubled down, coming up closer beside you with a soft, artificial as can be, smile on his face. “Then tell me what’s going through that lovely head of yours. Why are you worried, baby? We should be celebrating right now, hand in hand with some dr—“

“I’m not in the mood, Vox. Really.” You cut in, your fists tightening at your sides as you move around him to continue pacing around the room. “I don’t want to hear about how this is a good thing, when it’s something I never wanted, not now, at least. I wasn’t ready.”

He pauses, eyes scanning your form for a moment before his grin is back smoothly displayed on his screen. “Alright alright, we don’t have to talk about it. Come back into the lobby with me and we can forget all about this tonight. Val is beside himself with anxiety, we can settle down for the night with him.”

“No—“ you begin, expression crumpling before Vox narrows his eyes as soon as the words leave your mouth.

“No?” He repeats, leveling her with a look.

“I don’t… want to just act like everything is okay. Vox, I don’t— this isn’t right. I told you I didn’t want to get pulled into the spotlight, the public.” You stop pacing, instead standing there with a conflicted look in your eyes.

“I didn’t do this, so why am I being punished?” He raises a brow, moving his screen to catch your gaze again. He didn’t care if you were being stubborn, if she wanted to talk, they’d talk. He offered you a way out and you didn’t take the damn olive branch. Typical of you when things got like this.

“Because—! Velvette didn’t know, why didn’t you ever tell the Vee’s that we were hiding it for a reason?” You’d hissed out, your hands reaching up to tangle in your hair, seconds away from pulling.

“NONE OF THAT.” Vox’s voice blared out at a higher volume, a momentary glitch flickering across his screen abruptly as his arms immediately extended out to grasp at your hands, stopping your from trying to yank on your hair out of frustration.

He watched you with an intensity as you briefly paused, then grit your teeth and lower your hands, clasping them tightly around your necklace instead.

He eased up, letting his arms extend back into him after letting go of you. Straightening himself back up, he considered your words.

“It slipped my mind.” It didn’t. “I thought they’d understand because we never made it public.” He never told them for a reason, deep down hoping something like this might happen. It worked, didn’t it? The Vee’s were the talk of the town now, like they always were, the frenzied public eating it up. Not pictured on his screen was him monitoring the comments on the broadcast that he refused to take down.

“Still, I…” Your voice wavers, and he knows he’s almost got you. He’s so close to winning this, to having you back in his arms and the publicity he wanted so desperately, having both would be so, so fucking satisfying.

And then.

“You’re not listening to me, are you? It slipped your mind? It should have been the very first thing you told them after I made it clear to you, considering we spend a lot of our time around the other Vee’s.” You seem to harden with your resolve, gaze flickering to the floor before it settled back to him.

The hell?

He was so close. What happened now?

“Baby, I—“

“Don’t call me that right now.” You interrupt, strict.

“…Alright, then. I’m sorry, but what’s done is done. I can’t take back my mistake, or Velvette’s.” He tries, his voice a faux soothing tone. “Let’s not argue, okay? I just want to hold you right now, you look so…” He trailed off. Honestly, you looked fine right now, a far cry from your earlier trembling and muttering when he’d first checked the cameras of your room hours ago.

“Take down the broadcast.”

“What?” No, absolutely not. That fucking video was earning them so much money right now, and engagement. Why the fuck would he do that?

“Take down the broadcast and put out a statement that Velvette was just exaggerating, that there’s nothing going on.” You calmly stated, then gave him a look, something he hadn’t seen before, not when you usually gave into him and his words.

“We— We can’t do that,” He glitches slightly, before forcing his circuits back into a stable flow. “That’ll just make things worse, and it’s likely been uploaded a million times over on other people’s channels for commentary.”

“Take it down and we can go back to how things were.” You repeat, posture stiffening the more and more he refused. “It’s not the first time Velvette has stirred something up for publicity, they’ll understand.”

“Baby, no. What’s done is done. Wiping it out won’t change things, it’ll just douse more gas onto the fire.” Vox frowned, his hands reaching out for you. “We can make this better. We can keep public appearances to a minimum, we can do whatever you want, but taking it down isn’t going to magically make it all better.”

He watches as your brows knit together, and as you try again. “Take it down, and we can work from there. Please.” You let out a small sigh, your wings trembling a bit as you maintain your composure for the most part.

“I can’t, you know that. People are going to think we have something to hide.” Vox takes a deep breath, unnecessarily but a habit from when he was alive, in order to keep his cool. “Baby, be reasonable.”

“I am being reasonable. I just— Why can’t you do it? Take it down, Vox. Delete the broadcast and we—“

“I SAID I’m not taking SHIT down—“ Vox glitches in a sudden surge of frustration, his screen flashing a multitude of colors before settling on an angry red that blares brightly for a few moments, a string of incomprehensible text rapidly filling the screen. “You s—sound like a fucking broken record, th—this video is making us money and you want to stop it? Who the fuck do you think pays for y—your shit? Ssssshut the fuc—“ The words tumble out of his mouth before he can stop them, the sudden error preventing him from filtering his true thoughts out. FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK. He can see the beginning of realization of what he just said dawn on his girlfriend’s face as he immediately clamps his mouth closed, forcing himself to play damage control before things get more out of hand.

“Baby, I didn’t mean that, I—“ He begins, that soft, coaxing tone returning, a sharp contrast to the vulgar and harsh biting sound he’d just spilled out. The petname is laced with something sweet and belittling, as if this was just another tantrum about his lack of awareness about the cameras. You, however, cut in again.

“I told you to stop calling me that.” You speak up, eerily calm now. With a deep breath, you give him that same stare you had before. “You’re not listening to me. Is that what you’ve been thinking all along? You’re a fucking asshole is what you are.” You grip at your necklace, before yanking on it hard enough that the strong snaps and beads fly everywhere in every direction.

“You’re not listening and all you care about is fucking profit. Why am I sitting here wasting my breath talking to a wall when it’s clear you’ve already decided what to do? Fuck you, fuck the Vee’s, and fuck all of Hell. I’m out of here.” You seethe, hands dropping the broken string and some of the beads, and Vox watches as they hit the floor.

He’d given her that pair.

It gave him a headache to make it, but he’d done it for her because she couldn’t find anything she liked in stores. Only a fucking simp would do what he did. A bastard in love would spend their time making it even with his stupid fucking claws, who just watched them tear that shit over a stupid fucking argument on something that was clearly unavoidable. He opens his mouth to fire back another response but you take a step towards the door and all of his composure goes out the window right in that moment.

“STAY.” His voice blares out, speakers blasting with the force of his command and his screen contorts into a swirling pattern, a hypnotic expression overtaking your face the moment your eyes settle on the screen the moment you turn your head, and he sees the effects of his, immediately activated at your movements, hypnosis begin to repay benefits as you remains rooted into your place.

There’s a brief moment of clarity for him. Ah. So it does work on you after all. Then, a deep seated panic hits him. M -;You’r)e going to fffffucking kill h—hi,m.

He freezes, then forces himself into action.

With a trembling hand, he points towards the bed. “…Sit down.”

He watches as your limbs begin to move, expression blank as you seat yourself on the edge of the bed. Your wings are limp, gaze glassy as you wait aimlessly for further directions.

He swallows thickly, before re-engaging the locks on the door, then disables the swirling pattern as soon as the locks click back into place. He’s never used his hypnosis on her for the entirety of their relationship, no matter how infuriating or tedious their arguments got. He’s never been tempted enough to try, but the passing thought if it would work occasionally flickered through his mind. He almost brought it up once to ask her opinion about using it in the bedroom before he decided that was much too insane to ask during their peaceful dinner at one of the hellfire Michelin restaurants he’d taken her to. He didn’t want her to choke on her steak because he couldn’t keep his curiosity in check.

He can only watch as her expression morphs from a listless blank one to slow realization. Then, big tears start to slowly fall from her eyes, silently slipping down her cheeks.

He’s fucked up again.

“Baby, no no, no…” He moves to kneel beside you, taking your hand in his securely. “I’m sorry, I just didn’t want you to leave. Please, let’s talk about this.”

But all you do is continue to sob silently, pulling your hand away immediately.

Vox's digital heart sinks at the sight of her pulling her hand away, the tears streaming down her face like a silent accusation towards him. He knows he fucked up, did something he shouldn’t have, crossed a line he can’t uncross at one of the worst moments he could have chosen to.

“Love, please.” He pleads, remaining kneeled beside you on one knee. “I know I fucked up, I should have never— I was scared you were going to leave a-and I panicked.”

He almost wants to reach out and just bring you in, take you into his arms and comfort you, hold you until things start to make sense again, or until he’s sure he isn’t losing the thing he wanted to stay most despite it all.

“Just— Tell me what to do. I’ll do anything to make this right. Please, what do you need right now?” He hates the way he sounds right now, everything is tinged in desperation and a plea for her to stay.

“I just,” Another choked sob. You reach your hands up to harshly wipe at your eyes, more tears silently streaming down your face. “—want to go home, I don’t want to be here anymore.”

He feels a sharp jolt of pure desperation, rejection, everything he didn’t want, stab through him. He nearly glitches out again, his screen flickering before he bypasses it and forces his composure.

“But this is your home—“

“Vox, please. I want to go home now.”

"Okay, okay," Vox responds quickly, his voice a low sound, trying to soothe you despite the tension that fills the air between them. "You can go… home. I won't stop you. I just—can we talk first? Please?"

He knows he’s about to lose you, right on the edge. He knows he can’t logically force you to stay forever, you’re falling apart just at a few moments under his hypnosis, it isn’t feasible and he knows that.

"I'll have one of the cars take you wherever you want to go," Vox offers, his words laced with regret. He isn’t sure where you’ll go, but he wants to know you’re there safe. "Just let me make sure you get there safely. That's all I ask. Let me make sure you're safe."

You sniffle, your eyes reddened with more tears as you slowly shake your head. “N…No please, I’ll be okay…”

His screen flickers, limbs twitching with need. He has to force down another error from surfacing, bad enough to almost make him crash. The only thing he can do right now is agree. With a swipe of his hand, the digital locks unlock and the door swings open.

“Alright, if that’s… if that’s what you want, I won’t stop you anymore.” He speaks up after a moment, an overwhelming sense of loss washing over him as he concedes. “Just… be careful, okay? Hell isn’t as kind as you think it is.”

The least he can do is watch over you, right?

He has cameras all over the city, she’ll be fine. He’ll be watching over his beloved to make sure she gets home just fine. He doesn’t know where that is, but he’s sure to find out now. And when she’s ready to talk, they’ll talk and iron this out. It’s not like this is the end of everything, what would he tell the other Vee’s? The media? What would he do?

He swallows, then takes a step back. “Just… text me when you feel better, okay?”

“Yeah… Okay…” You nod slowly, then stand up from the bed. Your wings are curled around yourself protectively, and you begin to walk towards the now unlocked door. With each step you take, Vox twitches a bit, hands trembling with the need to reach out and stop you himself. He contemplates something, and with a grimace, his screen activates it’s hypnotic swirl. He hopes you’ll look back at him for just a moment, just for a second. All he needs is just one moment and he can get them to talk this out.

“G—Goodbye, take care of yourself. Talk soon, okay? Message me when you’re home safe.” He forces out, his screen going pixelated with various colors in a moment for a moment before resuming its swirl. You pause your steps, as if contemplating something before you swallow, and continue on your way out. Without sparing him a glance as you go.

You don’t look back at him. Instead, you mumble something he can’t catch out, probably a half-hearted goodbye, and walk out on him.

The text never comes and neither do you.