#sorry for so many tags (I hate tagging multiple things) but I wanted to make sure of spoilers HDHRHWHRH

[marvelouslizzie]

Trust In What Tomorrow Brings - Co-written with @notafunkiller

Summary: After your first date with Bucky Barnes, you two spend some time alone in your apartment. That's when you realize you actually want to keep him.

Pairing: 40s Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Warnings: 18+ NSFW MINORS DNI, second encounter, teasing, pet names, sir and sergeant kink, a tiny bit of mommy kink, mentions of past relationships, mentions of trauma, protected and unprotected sex, praising dirty talking mixture, dry humping, ripped clothing, face riding, blowjob, rough sex, multiple orgasms, light punishment, no mention of y/n

Word Count: 11.9K

A/N: This is technically a second chapter to You’re My Desire but you don't need to read the first chapter to understand what's going on since this is their second date. We actually planned it as a one-shot but somehow 40s Bucky and this universe didn't want us to be done. So here we are with a sequel. We kinda went overboard with it because we just want Bucky to have a little bit of a good time in the middle of the war.

Please give my lovely co-writer @notafunkiller a follow. She's a great writer and a talented creator in general.

All work is ours, please do not repost or translate without our permission.

Every like, comment, and reblog is highly appreciated. Don’t hesitate to message us. Unless it’s hate. That’s never welcome.

Read more tag starts after the fourth paragraph of the story.

You may wanna read You're My Desire first

"This is absolutely crazy. They are all yours?" Bucky's fascinated smile is so cute that you smile, too.

“Oh yeah, I have been collecting books for a long time.”

"What's this?" He takes a book with a white cover that had no title or author written on it and analyzes it carefully.

“No, no, no.” You immediately try to take it back. “That’s not for your eyes, mister.”

"What?" Bucky snorts. "Is that your diary or what?"

“No, it’s not my diary.” You try to take the book back again, but you're not successful.

"Then why not?" He is even more curious now, turning his back a little to you to open it. "Even a dedication, huh? Is it from an old lover?" 

“No, it’s not. Come on, give it back.”

He sighs, not wanting to push you and hands you the book. "Okay, sorry."

You didn’t expect him to give up this easily. His consideration makes you wanna share a little bit more with him. So you open up a page and show him.

“This is why you aren’t supposed to see this.”

He was careful not to hurt her as he pushed her.

Her skin was so soft under his touch that nothing matters anymore.

"Oh god," Bucky covers his mouth. "Is the whole book like this, doll?"

“Pretty much.” You giggle a little, amused by his cute reaction.

"Wanna read it to me?" He winks.

“You can read it yourself if you wanna learn a thing or two.”

"Excuse you?" Bucky raises his eyebrow. "Are you questioning my skills now?"

You throw your head back, laughing, and Bucky crosses his arms with a frown as he watches you.

“I’m teasing you.”

"Sure." He puffs. He knows you have experience, but what if he doesn't keep up to your expectations?

“I’m really teasing you. Half of the things they do sound unrealistic.”

"Give me an example." His voice is somehow a little vulnerable.

You take a big breath, already regretting this. “Let’s see: having sex underwater like crazy. The girl is… wet for hours. They are going at it all night, and the guy comes several times in a row.”

Bucky snorts, coming closer to you. "Does he have the super super serum? Because that's not biologically possible."

“That’s exactly what I meant.“

"Yet you still read them. Who wrote this?"

“There aren’t many options when it comes to these kinds of books. The author is not written as you can see.” 

"How do you find them though?" He's genuinely curious.

“Mostly we borrow from each other. This one is my favorite so I bought a copy.”

"We? Who's we?"

“Girls. Exchanging books.”

Bucky's eyes glow all of a sudden. "Like a book club?"

“Yeah, like a book club.” You can’t help but smile at how excited he is.

"Oh god. Is it only for girls?" He tries to calm down a little, but this is so interesting he can't control himself. 

Your smile turns into a full laugh. “You wanna read erotic books with girls?”

Bucky groans embarrassed as he covers his face. "No, of course not. I was just wondering. I can read erotic books with my girl."

“Your girl?” You raise your right eyebrow playfully.

"Aren't you?" He drops the hand from his face to grab yours.

“It depends on you.” You really wanna kiss him, but you hold yourself back.

Bucky surprises you by grabbing your ass and pulling you into him. Your book falls on the floor, but neither of you cares as he kisses you gently. "Want to be my girl, doll?"

“Yes, yes.”

"Are you sure? I can't make love to you the whole night," Bucky says amused.

You laugh. “I don’t think I would survive that even if you could.”

He joins you in laughter. "I'd probably die mid-thrust."

“You know what, though?”

"What?"

“I didn’t think having sex against the wall was realistic. You know, carrying the other person the whole time while thrusting. I thought that no more than 2 or 3 minutes could be possible, but you proved me wrong.”

Bucky looks at her surprised. "Really?"

“Yeah, really. I still don’t know how you did that.”

"I just held you. I'm a soldier." He brushes it off. "Maybe your... friends need to exercise more."

“My friends?” You repeat in a joking manner.

"Special friends."

“I don’t have any special friends.”

"Doll," he groans. "You know what I mean."

“I know and I never had any special friends.”

Bucky sighs. "Your previous... partners."

“I just had one partner, and he wasn’t a special friend. He was my fiancé.”

"Oh?" He feels like a total fool for assuming that. The word engagement, though… That burns a hole in his stomach. "Your fiance? What happened?" 

“He got drafted, and then I found out he was cheating on me. So I broke off the engagement.”

Bucky can't believe it. How could he do that? "Wow, I'm sorry. I have no idea what to say. When did it happen?"

“Over a year ago.” You offer a little more information with a bitter smile. You're glad you found out then. It would have been a mess if you had gotten married before that. “It’s okay. You already said more than he ever did.”

"I..." Bucky takes a step back. You're probably still in pain. Maybe even in love or regretting what could have been. He doesn't know how to process this. "I'm sorry once again."

“It’s okay.” You shrug. “And look, I know what kind of impression I gave you on that first date. So if you don’t believe I only had one partner before, I understand it.”

"That's not... I frankly don't care how many partners you had. That is the last thing I'd ever care about. What we did was to follow our needs." He sighs. "But I want to know what you really want us to be. Because I am not sure I would be the right guy to mend your heart only."

He wants a whole lot more.

“I am not expecting you to mend my heart, Bucky.”

"You talked about pain," he says naively.

“Pain that happened in the past. I’m not in pain anymore.”

"Oh." He slaps his forehead. "I'm sorry. I misunderstood, I guess. I was surprised because we have a connection and I felt like you liked me back, so hearing that you suffer..." Bucky's eyes soften. "He's an idiot. He never deserved you. A coward and a horrible man. I am sorry you had to go through this."

You wrap your arms around his neck. “You think we have a connection, huh?” You ignore the rest. You don’t wanna think about the past anymore.

"I hope you feel it, too." He sounds so shy and vulnerable you can't help yourself but smile.

“You are in my apartment all alone. What do you think?”

"I think we should dance."

“Dance?” You are surprised by his sudden suggestion.

"Yes. I mean, I am not a great dancer, but I’m decent enough. Can we?"

“Yeah, of course. We should put some music on first.”

"You have a record player?! He doesn't even try to hide his shock and excitement anymore, so you grab him by his hand and drag him toward your record player. 

You watch him staring at the big pile of records on the table.

“I have my apartment now, so I can spend my money on books, records, and stuff to cook.”

"Can you adopt me?" He jokes, without taking his eyes off your record player. "Wanna be my mommy? You can be my special young mama."

“Oh?” You try really hard not to smile, a little confused. “How does that work?”

"How do you think it works?" He's not even trying to sound seductive, but he still does. You have to take a deep breath, trying to keep your excitement down.

“I really don’t know. Why don’t you tell me?”

"Hmm, maybe another time. How about we dance?"

“Okay,” you say and you start to go through your records until you find Frank Sinatra. You put the record on and manage to find There Are Such Things really quickly.

"I love this one! You have a treasure here, doll." You extend your hand out and wait for him to take it so you two can start dancing. "Wanna sway with me, ma'am?" He finally takes your hand and brings you closer.

“I would love that.”

You're not surprised he's a good dancer. You expected this to be honest. But his goofiness, his funny faces, the way his voice feels so pleasant as he sings the lyrics… You feel shy to sing along when he's such a good singer, so you only hum against his chest.

He is warm and strong under your touch. It makes you remember the time you were much closer than this. You wondered what got into you that day, why you acted the way you did. He’s just intoxicating, and you would totally do it all over again.

"What are you thinking about?” He looks at you. “You seem distracted. Wanna do something else?"

His voice takes you back to reality. You are ashamed to admit you were thinking about sex, so you snuggle against his chest.

“No. Let’s keep dancing.”

"Only if you tell me what got you so distracted." You feel his lips on your head as he speaks.

“Your touch.” You try to be honest but also not expose yourself completely.

"What about it? Already tired of it?" You know he does it intentionally. He's so easy to read at this point.

“Yeah, so tired of it, that’s why I wanna keep dancing.” You try to surpass the urge to smile.

Bucky snorts, unable to contain himself. "All types of dancing?"

“How many types of dancing do you know, Sergeant?”

"One that you know for sure, too. We practiced it before." The change of tone is so obvious, and his hands fully wrap around your hips, pushing you more against him. He's so hard.

You look up, not moving away from his chest when you realize you aren’t the only one thinking about sex just because you are dancing. It’s a relief.

“I thought we were doing a regular dance,” you say, but the smile on your lips is giving away your actual feelings about this situation.

"Isn't this regular?"

"If you want it to be."

"Sounds good to me."

"Where should we dance, though? Kitchen? Bedroom? Here? Bathroom?" You start to laugh. He’s such an idiot. "Floor?" He joins you and starts to laugh as well.

“Floor?” You frown. “I think we deserve a bed this time.”

"I was teasing you," He lifts your chin to kiss you properly. "Thought you liked it rough."

“It can be rough in bed.”

He groans at the thought of taking you hard in a soft bed. "I might break it, doll."

“I bet you could.”

"Is that a challenge?" You love the subtle tone in his voice.

“No, it’s a prediction.”

And just like that you finally realize the music has stopped, only the sound of the needle-moving breaking the silence.

"Should we, uhm, play another or…?" He asks curiously, letting you go.

“We can, but I am a little hungry. We can listen while eating, and you can choose the time. How does that sound?”

Bucky's eyes widen. "That's perfect."

*

"I love this. Where did you get it from?" He's playing with the bracelet you're wearing as he eats another strawberry, laying on the couch next to you. It feels so natural, like you did this a million times before, yet still exciting.

“Oh, this?” You move your arm a little, but not away from him. “It belonged to my grandmother.”

"It's so beautiful, a perfect fit for you."

“She told me my grandfather gifted this when they got engaged.”

"Rich." He can't help himself but comment. "Sorry, I mean it's really beautiful, but also kind of expensive. He must have loved her very much." Then he places a small kiss on your wrist, right below your bracelet. 

You laugh a little. “How do you think I could afford all this stuff?”

Bucky clears his throat, nervous. "You have a point, I just don't think about money. I don't come from a rich family."

“If you were, you wouldn’t be fighting in this war.” Your tone is suddenly more serious than you intended.

"So you don't mind going out with a nobody?" He sighs, just as serious.

“You are not nobody. Not to me!” You caress his cheek. “You are James Bucky Barnes.”

He melts under your touch immediately. He doesn't remember the last time he felt this type of warmth.

"You're so sweet."

“Wait. Does this mean…” You aren’t sure how to ask, but his comments about being rich remind you of the conversation you had not long ago. “The adopting or mommy thing you said. Does it mean this?”

He laughs so hard you can't believe it. Did you misunderstand? Is it not what it really means?

"I don't know, mama. What do you think that means?"

“Oh, come on! I have no idea and you know it!”

"I think you do."

“Nope. Not at all. Maybe you just want kids. That would make me a mama, right?”

"Hmm." Suddenly he’s distracted by that idea. He's simply too busy imagining his come dripping out of you to give you a proper answer, making you even more curious. 

“You are such a tease,” you grumble.

"What does that mean?"

“What do you think that means?” You mimic his question.

Bucky taps his thigh and smiles. "Come here. You can ask me anything." You look at his thighs and then back into his eyes, biting your lip. That offer is so appealing. "I thought you trusted my strength."

“Oh, I do.” You move a bit closer, but not on his lap. “I am just not trusting myself.”

He gasps, bringing you closer himself. "Fuck, why?"

“You know the answer to this one.” You remark cheekly.

"No, I really don't."

“You are lying, mister. You know what I mean when I say I don’t trust myself.” You move your legs, trying to find a comfortable position.

"I don't know exactly what you mean."

“You might find out later then.”

He groans, moving his hands to your breasts, unsure. "I wanna know now."

“I'll tell you only if you promise me that you'll explain the mom thing.” You like how distracted he looks, so you keep leaning in.

"You're a mommy right now."

“And what does that actually mean?”

He's too focused on your breasts to even hear you. "Fuck, look at those hard little things." He can't help but pinch one of your nipples.

“Bucky!”

"So squishy." He's so fascinated as he squeezes the other breast eagerly. He's like a distracted child.

You move a little bit back, so he can’t touch them. "No!" He immediately complains, reaching out to touch them again. "How dare you!"

“No answer, no touching.”

He lifts his head and gives you the most betrayed look you've ever seen. His eyes are almost glossy. "You can't take them away."

“I can actually.” You move a little bit more. “See? They come wherever I go.”

Bucky gasps, wrapping his arms around your waist and bringing you closer. "Don't you dare!"

“You are so dramatic.” You laugh while hugging him back.

"I am not." He pouts, burying his face into your boobs again. 

“You are.” You move your hips just a little while still hugging him.

"What are you doing?"

“Nothing.”

"Nothing?" He moves his hips, too.

You make a sound you don’t expect but try to act like it didn’t happen. “Yeah, nothing.”

"Fuck me," he whispers to himself before taking your nipple in his mouth through the blouse. He wants to make you moan like that again. He needs to.

“Jesus, Bucky!”

"I'm your Jesus now?" He asks teasingly, switching to the other nipple.

“You can be my God if you keep doing that.” Shit, where did this response come from? He brings out a part of you that you didn’t know it even existed.

"You can't say this." He cries out unexpectedly, still licking you through your blouse. "You can't."

“Why?” It comes out like a whine.

"It's too much."

“You are too much.”

His hands grab the edge of your blouse without warning, but before he can rip it off, you slap his arms. 

“You can just take things off without ripping them, you know?” You take the top off yourself, showing him how it’s done. “See, it’s not that hard.”

He ignores your comment and doesn't even warn you before grabbing your boobs and squeezing them together. "Missed you." Then he brings his head right between them, snuggling. You can’t help but laugh. "What's so funny?"

“You are. Look at you.”

"Can't look at me. I'm looking at something better." He licks the valley between your breasts without letting them go, and you curse under your breath. "Gonna take them away from me again?" He lets his tongue get to your right breast, and you feel his teeth dangerously close to your nipple now, making you moan.

“I think I should shut my mouth. I’m boosting your ego way too much.” You play because he’s boosting your ego, too. 

"You can shut my mouth, baby. Anytime."

“Shut your mouth how?” You bring your hands over his mouth. “Like this?”

He bites your fingers in response. "Nope. Try again."

You move your hand to his neck and put a little pressure. “Maybe like this?”

He lets out the lowest moan you've ever heard from his mouth, closing his eyes. "Oh."

“Am I getting closer?” You ask. His eyes are so dark when he opens them, you're shocked. “Or did you mean something else?” You whisper right into his ear.

"Ihm. I did, can you guess?" He tries to distract himself before he can think about how much he enjoyed your grip on his neck. 

“I’m out of ideas,” you say, making him drop his hand to your skirt. His fingers are playing with the edge of it. You can feel the implication of him wanting to take your skirt off. “You want me to… Shut you up with… Like that?”

"Imagine it." He closes his eyes, palming you over your underwear. "You'd be able to control the movements more." 

“Did you… try this before? I don’t wanna hurt you.”

"You think you can hurt me?" He sounds so offended. "Oh, hell no. We should do this right now and I'll show you."

“Of course, I can hurt you. I could crush you!”

He looks at you amused. "Can't wait. Now come here and don't you dare hold back or you'll get a punishment. Got it?"

“Punishment?” Your eyes widen upon hearing that word. You aren’t sure if it’s scary or exciting. Could be both.

"I don't mean hurting you." He realizes immediately how this sounded. "I mean... spanking lightly."

“Oh, that kind of punishment.” You get a bit more relaxed, but your heart is beating fast. You move yourself where he wants you, but it feels so wrong. “I am afraid I might suffocate you.”

Bucky wants to protest immediately, but he stops himself. He knows you only need reassurance.

"How about we have a sign? If I tap three times on the couch, we stop. How about that?"

“Tap on me. Doesn’t matter where. Just on me, so I can feel it immediately.”

He nods, all melted. "Okay, now please don't hover." He gently orders.

“Tell me if I do anything wrong.” 

You lower yourself on his face while trying to gather your skirt up for him.

"Can I rip it off or not?"

“You can. I knew you were gonna ask that, so I wore something I don’t like much.”

"Skirt too?" 

“No. Not the skirt because I can take it off easily.” You unzip the skirt and take it off your head. “See?”

"Shame..," he says disappointed before finally ripping your underwear off with only one hand. "Finally!"

“You are a savage, Sergeant Barnes.”

"And I think you love that."

“Very much.” You lower yourself on his face, practically shutting him up like he wanted. He doesn't disappoint as he moans against you, making sure you're not hovering before pushing his tongue inside you. “Oh my god!” You yelp when you feel his warm tongue for the first time.

He can't answer as he's too busy eating you, but you feel his hands squeezing your skin harder. You spread your legs even further to feel his tongue better. It feels so good that you have a hard time keeping your voice down.

"Good girl." His praise goes directly to your core, and you curse under your breath, thinking you won’t last long. He can't help himself but bring one of his hands to your clit, hesitating.

“Just your tongue.” You request while moaning, and he agrees wordlessly.

You start to move your hips back and forth, trying not to go overboard and Bucky seems to love it, groaning louder against you, moving his tongue. As it gets more delightful, you have a hard time balancing yourself, so you grab onto his hair with one hand.

"Fuck!" He takes his mouth off just to curse. "Pull as hard as you want."

You pull his hair a little bit more before he puts his mouth back on you, just to see his reaction.

"Jesus, I'm..." he's so hard and excited that he's already started to leak. "I'm gonna make a mess on your couch."

“I’m already making a mess on my couch.” You are dripping wet, and he’s worried about making the mess. He’s so cute, especially when he’s laying down to please you like this.

"Keep bouncing, baby," he demands, then in no time, his tongue is flat, ready to be used by you, and you don’t hesitate.

You hold onto his hair with your right hand as you ride his tongue. You don't even realize how hard you pull until you hear his moans, encouraging you to keep going. He's clearly not suffocating, and you don’t realize how fast you are moving your hips, either. Not until you explode on his face, moaning mindlessly while trying to keep your shaking legs moving until you are done coming.

What surprises you the whole time is how he doesn't stop using his tongue until you finish, trying to hold you in place so he can give you more pleasure. You move yourself back a little after you are done, sitting on his chest and trying to catch your breath. You feel like a mess. 

"How was it?" He doesn't move as he asks you that, only wiping his face with the back of his left hand.

“Earth-shattering. Wow.”

He snorts before licking his fingers right under your eyes. "Gonna listen to me next time?"

“Yes, sir,” you jokingly say, feeling boneless but still needing more.

"No." His answer comes more like a groan than an affirmation. "You can't… call me sir."

“Why not, sir?”

"God, it sounds so... great." He doesn't know what else to say, covering his face shily.

“Did I just discover something about you or did you already know this?” You finally move away from his chest, leaning down to kiss him.

"It's something new."

“What about Sargeant? That you must have known.” You move your lips to his cheek, just making them brush his skin.

"Come on. Kiss me." He complains.

“Ask nicely.”

"Please?"

You finally kiss him on the cheek. "You are so pretty when you beg." Then you move your lips to his jaw and neck.

"You are even prettier when you listen." 

"Am I? What if I don't listen?"

He brings his hand to your neck. "You're a bad, bad girl. And bad girls get punished." He smiles.

"I never got punished in bed before."

He smiles. "What would you want to try? Spanking as I suggested before?"

"You are giving the orders, remember? Not me."

Bucky raises his eyebrow. "You mean you pretend I'm giving the orders."

"Maybe I want you to give the orders, not just pretend." He squeezes the sides of the neck.

"You can try whatever you wanna try. You can give orders, just stop whenever I say stop."

"Deal.”

*

It feels strange to have him in your bedroom, truth be told. Especially watching him getting rid of his underwear and socks this close to you. His hair bounces with every move, so you can't help but giggle. And he looks so good. Really good, especially under proper lighting.

It’s not the first time you are seeing him half-naked, but you definitely didn’t get a good look while having a quickie in a dark alley. His body looks toned, strong, and capable. You are dying to feel his touch, but you stand still, waiting for him to come to you.

"How many taps when you want me to stop?"

“Three.”

"Good." He smiles assuringly before slowly spreading your legs further. "You're so cute waiting for me."

“Just cute?”

He shakes his head, finally positioning himself at your entrance. His eyes are stuck on you: your hair, face, neck, chest. "You're sweet too," he teases, pushing inside you.

“Fuck.” You moan silently. It feels so good to feel him inside you again. “Sweet? Anything else?” You voice comes out so breathy.

"Smart. Nerdy." He leans in, putting more of his weight onto his elbows. "Beautiful. Brave. Loud and adorable."

“Brave?” You look confused while biting your bottom lip, trying not to make a loud sound.

"Aren't you?" He smiles, starting to thrust a little faster, but not enough to make it impossible to speak. At least for now. "Brave to move on from a failed engagement. Brave to live with your friend here. Brave to accept our date. Brave to test me." His laugh is so contagious.

You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him closer. “You think I tested you?” Your lips are inches away from his.

"I know you did." He kisses you, not waiting for you to do it as he lifts one of your legs on his shoulder. "At the fair." He sounds out of breath this time, his thrusts hitting a little deeper.

You wanna say you didn’t, that it wasn’t a test. It is something that happened, and you don’t regret it, but instead, a loud moan escapes your mouth. The angle change fills you with a different kind of pleasure. 

"What a responsive doll you are." He smiles against your neck. "So perfect for me." You pull your legs, spreading your legs even further to give him more space to move. It makes his thrusts feel even better somehow. "Jesus, this is..." He's trying to find the perfect words to describe how he feels, but there are none. "Heaven."

“Oh, god!” It’s hard to keep your voice down when he latches onto the closest nipple, Whatever he’s doing with that tongue, it helps you to feel better down there. It’s driving you closer to your release.

"I'm your god now?" He jokes, stopping the sucking for a few seconds just to tease you.

“Yes! Yes, you are. Keep doing that and I will worship you later.”

He doesn't just continue lick and suck on your breast, he also starts thrusting deeper than before. The sound of the bed moving is even more obvious now. There is no way your neighbors don't know what is happening. 

“Shit!” It’s so hard not to curse when he’s pounding like that, hitting all the right spots. “I’m so close,” you whisper, trying to keep your voice down. “Just keep going, don’t change anything.” 

"Just like this?" He asks, keeping the same pace as you asked. "Are you going to be good and enjoy yourself?"

“You have no idea…” You try to collect yourself to form a sentence. “How good I feel right now.”

"I do," he says breathlessly before letting his teeth and tongue mark your neck. The pain you feel somehow enhances the pleasure, and you suddenly find yourself throwing your head back, shutting your eyes, and moaning his name over and over again. You’re coming so hard. "I feel like... Doll, please, say my name again."

“Bucky, Bucky, Bucky.” It’s all you wanna say anyway. “Please, don’t stop. Please!” You have no idea why you’re begging. You know he won’t stop, yet you still wanna do it. You still wanna beg him not to stop. It feels that good, that precious.

"Never." He manages to answer you between moans. "I'd rather die."

“Oh god, I think I…” Pleasure keeps hitting you in waves. “I might be dying myself.” You never had an orgasm this long. Your whole body is tensed up. You can actually hear your ears ringing.

"Gonna come for you, pretty doll." He bites your neck on another spot.

“Please, please.” It’s like you forgot all the other words. You watch him through a haze how he reaches his orgasm, saying your name like a whisper as he suddenly stays still inside you.

After he finishes, you close the distance and give him a big kiss. Sloppy and loving. It feels like you are thanking him for all the pleasure he’s just given you.

"Hi." He smiles. "Are you good?"

“God! I feel like I am still on the clouds.” You caress his face, carefully admiring his features. “What about you?”

He smiles. "I'm in heaven."

“Does it always feel this good?” The words come out of your mouth unintentionally. You really didn’t mean to ask that out loud. It was just a thought. “I mean, I don’t know what you are doing different to make it feel so good. I didn’t experience this before.” You keep rambling, trying to explain yourself. “So I wonder if it is supposed to feel this good all the time. But I’m not trying to question your past or anything. Don’t get me wrong.” You would keep talking if he didn’t cut you off.

"Breathe, baby. No, it doesn't feel like this with everyone else because you don't always have a connection. I am so glad to hear I made you happy." He smiles like a fool.

You cover your face with your hands. “I shouldn’t have asked that, I am sorry. It feels like it’s something you keep to yourself.” 

"What? No. Ask me and I'll answer."

You finally take your hands off your face.

“Okay. I have another question then.” He’s still inside you. and you can feel him getting hard again. “Is it normal that you are already getting hard inside me this quickly?”

He groans. "Told you, you felt amazing."

“That’s not my question, though. Is this normal for you? You always get hard this quickly after coming?” You insist because you wanna know. You have a feeling there’s something different about him, and you wanna prove it to him. 

He has no idea about your intention, though. He’s worried that he’s hurting you, so in a few seconds, he quickly gets out of you. 

"Sorry. I didn't want to hurt you." He raises from the bed, taking off the used condom as he walks to the nightstand. "And yes, I do become hard like this. Why?"

“You didn’t hurt me.” You want to quickly clear that up. “And you know it takes at least half an hour for other men, right? That’s not… how it normally works.”

Bucky laughs. "They haven't met you."

“I’m talking from experience this time. In this case, they met me. This has nothing to do with me.”

He rolls the second condom on as he speaks. "Maybe I'm a lucky man."

“Okay, you are ignoring too many signs. I have to prove it to you. Bring me that small mirror.” 

Bucky starts laughing, but he does what you ask him to, then coming back.. "What are you gonna do, huh?"

You sit on his lap, and just like that he’s back inside you.

“Welcome back.” You joke with a smile. “Now gimme the mirror.” He hands it over, and without explaining anything, you lean down, gently licking and sucking on a certain spot. 

Bucky tries desperately not to thrust his hips. After a while, you start to bite his neckless gently, which makes you feel a little guilty.

He doesn't seem to mind though. Quite the contrary. "You can bite harder.”

“Hmm…” If he doesn’t mind, you don’t mind biting harder either. So you do it again, dragging the skin with your teeth. “God, you’re so delicious.”

His hands find their way to your breasts, making sure not to grab them too hard. You bite the same spot again, fand a red spot is already forming.

"Little artist," he says when you reach for the mirror, turning it to him so he can see his neck. It’s clearly dark red. "See? You gave me a hickey. Congrats, baby." He smiles proudly and kisses your cheek.

“Let’s see how long it will take you to heal.”

Bucky rolls his eyes. "I just have a ticker skin, baby. Now come on, please, do something. Why are you torturing me?"

“I’m a small, adorable girl. I don’t know how I am supposed to move.” You are fully lying, and he knows it. So he decides to play your game.

"Bounce a little. Up and down."

You act like you are trying and failing. “Like this?”

Bucky shakes his head. "Try again. Change the angle a bit."

“Oh, come on, Bucky.” You whine. You love and hate how he quickly catches up to whatever you try to do.

"You should be a good little girl and try it yourself."

“Fine.” You frown and start moving for real this time, and he immediately wraps his arms properly around your waist.

"What's wrong?" 

“I was teasing you, so you would get tired of it and take control.”

He smiles. "I know."

In response, you punch him in his shoulder. “Then why didn’t you?”

"Why would I give you what you want now?" His voice drops lower. "Wanna push your limits."

“My limits?” You repeat as he brushes your nipples. “You wanna torture me? Make me desperate? Is that what it is?”

Bucky smiles, getting his lips close to yours again, but before he can kiss you, he takes you by the back of the head and moves you. You whine when he gets out of you.

“Bucky! What the fuck?”

"I need you to trust me, okay?" He tries to help get on all fours as he speaks. You nod in agreement. "Need your ass a little higher."

“My ass?” You sound a little afraid. You are definitely not ready for that if that’s his intention.

"Yes." He doesn't notice the change in your tone right away. "Promise I don't- oh, I don't plan on doing anything like that I promise. Just trust me."

You take a deep breath of relief. “Okay.”

"Put your weight on your elbows, okay?" You do as he asks. You switch the weight, putting your head down while your ass goes higher. "Do you feel comfortable?" 

“It’s a little weird, but not uncomfortable.”

"Ready?"

“Yes!” You sound impatient, and he quickly pushes inside you. Not too much, afraid he might hurt you in any way.  It must feel way deeper like this, and he doesn't want to risk it.

"God," he finds himself moaning. "You feel so good." You can’t respond to him though. All you can do is just moan. It feels incredible. "All good?"

“Yeah.” Your voice feels a little different. Raspy. “You can move.”

Bucky lets out a deep breath before finally trying out a few slow thrusts. "How does it feel?"

“Good. Really good.” It’s like your vocabulary disappears when you two have sex. It’s hard to form sentences or express yourself.

"How about this?" He asks while moving much faster. It's something about this angle that gives him more room to use his strength.

“Jesus Christ!” You mumble. How can it feel this good?

"I don't think I can last as long as before." He groans as he watches you shiver under him. The way you sound like this, your position, the way you feel... He's on another planet.

“I don’t think you have to.” It’s unbelievable how close you are. It’s normally not that easy for you, but things are different when you are with him.

He keeps the same pace, focusing on your moans and the sound of your skin slapping. His mouth somehow manages to find your shoulder and he licks the same spot for a few seconds, making you shiver. "So sweet for me."

Even though you love how he is licking and talking into you ear, him leaning in changes the angle and the pace. It’s not as rough as it was before, and you find yourself moving your hips back, trying to get more friction.

"Look at that." He smiles against your shoulder, sounding fascinated. "Someone is unhappy with my services."

“Not unhappy.” You definitely aren’t. “It’s just… my hips don’t listen to me anymore.”

"Oh, no," Bucky comments amused before getting back to his initial position. "Your poor hips."

You know he isn’t mocking you for real but something about it irritates you. So you stop moving your hips. “Better?”

He lifts his eyebrow even though he knows you can't see him. "Hmm." You suddenly feel a slap on your ass. You make a sound that can only be described as a half moan half yelp.

"What was that?" Another spank follows. This time you’re moaning when the burning feeling spreads on your ass cheek completely. You feel the urge to move your hips again, but you refrain yourself.

"Look at you, bratty little cat. You're getting wetter because of this." He's so excited as he rubs your cheeks with both of his hands, but you can do this later. He's too close. You are, too. And just like that, he's back to fucking you. He doesn't go back to his gentle rhythm. Surprisingly, his thrusts are deep and fast.

“Oh my god!” The rhytm is finally the way you wanted it again. Instinctively, you lean in a bit more, and your head gets buried in the bed while your ass is a little higher than before.

"Jesus, doll." He cries out, feeling so overwhelmed. "I'm so close. So... so close."

Your hand moves to your clit, touching yourself just the way you like it, even though it feels so hard to do while he’s pounding you. That’s all you need to finally reach the climax. You're not quiet at all despite your failed attempt to muffle your moans with your pillow. And Bucky feels like that's it. He doesn't even manage to warn you that he’s following you and coming hard. He softly moans your name after he finishes, falling onto your back just to feel your skin.

His hands wrap around your body and you let yourself fall with him. The indescribable pleasure you felt is still running through your whole body.

"Wow!"

You laugh a little, trying to turn your head. You wanna see him, kiss him, and maybe tease him a little, but he's already prepping kisses all over your neck, then your back. 

“You are crushing me,” you say jokingly but it’s half true.

"Oh, sorry." He immediately gets off you, throwing himself on the bed completely.

“Don’t go that far away though.” You exaggerate a little, opening your arms. You want him as close as possible.

Bucky doesn't hesitate to use this as an opportunity to bury his head into your boobs. "Hmm, perfect. I’m in heaven with you and these babies." He kisses both of your breasts to emphasize what he means.

You can’t help but snort. “Babies?”

"Yes, my babies. My dolls."

“I thought they were mine.”

Bucky puffs before snuggling even more. "Only mine."

“And I have no say in this?” You joke again, and he shakes his head.  “Does it mean this…” You grab his dick gently. It’s soft and the condom is dangling. “...is mine?”

His whine is so loud, making you giggle. "Of course it's yours."

“Oh, I love this deal.” You use your thumb and index finger to take the condom off.

"Fuck." He closes his eyes.

“Sensitive?”

"A little."

“That’s okay.” You give him a little kiss on the head, then move a little so you can tie the condom up. That makes you see the hickey on his neck again, which is almost gone. You put the condom away and reach for the mirror you used before.

"What?"

“Remember the lovely hickey I gave you?” Bucky nods. “Wanna see it now?” You lift the mirror so he can take a look. He expected to see only a faded pink mark, but instead the skin is intact as if you never bit him. 

"How!?"

“That’s my question exactly.”

"What the fuck is going on?" His hand goes to the place your mark used to be and there's no trace of any teeth. "Holy cow."

“I think you are healing faster than any of us.” You stop for a second. “Like Steve.”

Bucky's eyes immediately find yours. "You don't mean..."

“I don’t know what I mean, to be honest, because I don’t know any details. Like… Did you participate in whatever they did to him? Or maybe it’s something transmittable, I don’t know.”

You see him going pale all of the sudden, and your heart drops. He seems to know what caused this.

"They must have done something to me when I was captured. But I didn't change like he did." He looks so confused, like he’s trying to put the puzzle pieces together. "I'm not like Steve."

“You were captured?!” That’s all you focus on. You have to know.

"I was." He sighs, placing the mirror on the floor before pulling you onto his lap. "By Hydra. Long story short, my unit and I were sent at some point at a weapon facility in Europe. In Austria... We were forced to work on an advanced bomber plane. I have no idea what happened to that, but I was so..." Bucky closes his eyes. "I was starving, losing weight every day. I was so weak I couldn't continue, so they did something else."

“Dear God.” You are completely shocked. “Are you okay?”

"I was basically a test subject for a crazy doctor. I thought they just tested different things for a death serum. But now I am not sure at all." He's so lost in his memories now. He is clearly not like Steve, but it's so weird how his health reports were fine. He shakes his head, not wanting to think about it any longer. "I'm more than well when I'm with you." He finally answers your question.

“I’m glad you are here with me.” You give him a full kiss, thinking about all the possibilities, everything that could’ve happened before you two had the chance to meet. You wouldn’t even know who he is and that somehow hurts more.

"You're so precious." He hugs you so tightly you feel like you're about to cry.

You try not the think about how he could’ve been still a captive. You can’t imagine how horrible that experience must be, but you don’t wanna cry. Not when he’s in your arms like this. 

“Wanna test out how super you are?” You suggests instead. A change of subject can help you both.

"Want me to cook for you? Going to prove to you I am marriage material after all." He smiles.

Your eyes widen with surprise. “Marriage?” That definitely wasn’t what you were expecting him to say.

"Don't mind me, doll. What did you have in mind?"

“No, no, no. You can’t say that and leave it at that.”

Bucky strokes your hair. "What else can I say? I'm embarrassing myself."

“Embarrassing yourself? Nope, you aren’t.” You shake your head. “You are giving me hope but don’t do it if you don’t mean it, okay?”

"Of course I mean it," he immediately says, not letting you doubt even for a second. "But I thought... it is a bit early. I didn't want to be overbearing."

“It’s not. I know we don’t know each other that well yet and we might change our minds later. I’m not taking this as a promise or anything.”

"Well," he raises your hand and brings it to his mouth just to place a soft kiss on it. "I would be lucky if you wanted me after all of this." You give him a confused look, and he clarifies: "This whole weird healing thing and my sad story." He snorts, belittling himself. You are not having any of this though.

“I think it’s…” You try to find the right words. “really hot, and I really wanna test your limits because I think your healing applies to your… recovery, too. Remember how quickly you got hard again?”

Bucky laughs. "So it's all about this, huh?"

“What? Don’t you wanna find out if I am right?”

"I don't have another condom, love." He sighs.

“I mean we did it without a condom before.” It’s the truth, but it feels so weird to ask for more after having great sex. You should be content with it, but no, your body craves more.

Bucky kisses your shoulder again. 

"I know, but we risked it. I don't want to make you take a risk. Even if I don't spill inside you..." You don’t like the fact that he’s right. What you don’t realize is that your face is showing what you are thinking. "I can use my tongue if you want." He smiles, trying to find another solution.

“The point is testing your limits, Sergeant.”

"My limits of my tongue count." He kisses you for a few seconds.

“You are so annoying, rejecting my offer, Sargaent.”

Bucky gasps. "I did not! I just tried to look out for you."

“It’s okay.” You make a move to get up. “Let’s get cleaned up.”

He grabs you by your wrist. "Don't do this to me." 

“I’m just listening to what you are saying.”

He frowns. "Then why do I feel like the bad guy?"

“Because you rejected this…” You show yourself. “A pretty girl’s offer for more sex.

"My pretty girl wants sex even without protection?"

“She does.” You purse your lips, feeling a bit vulnerable and trying to cover it.

"Then…" He pulls you closer and kisses you gently, holding your face with both of his hands.

“You love torturing me,” you say between kisses.

"Not as much as you do." 

"Wanna do the honors or should I?" He grabs his cock with a hand, waiting for you to move or just say something.

“Oh, be my guest. Do whatever you wanna do. Just pull out in time.”

"Promise." He kisses you before getting inside you in one swift motion.

*

There are no words to describe how tired you feel. Exhausted comes close, but it doesn’t cover the pleasure you are still feeling despite your jelly legs. You aren’t sure if you made the best or the worst decision of your life when you suggested testing his limits because you lost the count of the orgasms you had. You are ruined. Simply ruined by him. No man will ever compare.

"Did I pass?" Bucky asks breathlessly, holding you against his chest. “Am I husband material?"

You can’t believe he is still wondering that. This wasn’t meant to be a husband material test, but you gotta admit that he passed with flying colors. 

“You know we weren’t testing that, right?”

"Such a loss." He plays amused. "What did we test then?"

“How quickly your body can recover, and now we can safely say that you are not a regular guy.”

Bucky sighs. "Then what am I?"

“You are the best thing that ever happened to me.” You run your hand on his cheek, gently caressing it before giving him a big kiss. You wonder why he wants to be a regular guy. He’s perfect the way he is.

Bucky immediately melts under you. "That's not nice. You read my thoughts and use them against me," he explains more emotionally than before.

“Maybe we are just sharing the same thoughts and feelings.”

"We are a perfect match."

“It seems so.” You quickly agree. “And you are perfect the way you are. I get that you don’t know what exactly this is but it seems cool so far.” You try to put his mind at ease. “And no one knows about it. You don’t have to be like Steve, you can keep being yourself.”

"You're so sweet." He leaves a soft kiss on your hair.

“I’m not usually sweet. Maybe it’s the afterglow talking.” You joke to lighten the mood.

He snorts. "You're the sweetest person I've ever met."

“Now that’s a lie.” You keep the same tone.

"If that's a lie, I am a normal guy."

“That’s even a bigger lie. You are nowhere close to being a normal guy. Normal guys suck.”

Bucky's fingers travel to your belly. "Is that so?"

“No, no, no.” You try to avoid getting tickled. “Bucky, please.”

"Say you're the sweetest girl in the world, and I might show you some mercy."

“Fine, fine, fine.” You accept the defeat. “I’m the sweetest girl in the world. Okay?”

"I can't hear you." He tickles you harder. 

“BUCKY!” You protest, but he doesn’t stop. “I’M THE SWEETEST GIRL IN THE WORLD.”

"Good." He finally lets go, grabbing your face just to give you the sloppiest kiss you've ever shared. “Now close your eyes. You need to sleep."

You wanna be mad at him for tickling you hard, but you can’t.

“Oh, I gotta clean myself a little first.”

“Let me help you. Where do you keep your towels?" 

You already thought he was perfect, but he’s showing you he’s even better than you thought. How is he real? How did you get this lucky? You don’t know. 

“Just sit down, baby. I can handle those.”

"Let's make a deal: I change the sheets while you clean if you want." You wanna say no and you can handle those. but you are so tired. 

“Sounds like a good plan.” You can’t deny that it’s efficient, and you wanna see if he can do it right. This is the real marriage material test, but he won’t know until you see the results. You hand him the new sheets and leave him to work, so you can clean yourself pretty quickly. 

You really made a big mess. Cleaning takes longer than you expected, but when you come back, you find a freshly made bed.

"Ready for bed now?"

“Yeah.” You inspect the sheets. He made the bed perfectly. “Unbelievable.” You didn’t mean to say that out loud, but it came out anyway. “Perfectly made. I think I will have to marry you, Sergeant Barnes.”

He smiles widely. "So I passed my test?"

“Yep.” You move onto the bed. “If you can cook as well, I won’t ever let you go. Say goodbye to your bachelor days.”

Bucky pulls you to him. "Goodbye, bachelor days."

You laugh while kissing him.  

“Let’s sleep.” You snuggle closer while he yawns.

*

You have been awake for a couple of minutes, just trying to fully wake up and freely watch Bucky sleeping. He looks so pretty and innocent.

Long lashes, kissable lips, big arms. God, why does he have to be this pretty?

You lean in, with the intention to give him a kiss like a normal person, but god, those arms look so biteable. Before you can change your mind, you bite his arm and watch him slowly wake up. Then you start giving him small kisses: on his arm, on his cheeks, and finally when he opens his eyes, on his lips.

"Good morning." He gives you an innocent look. 

“Good morning, handsome.” You kiss his cheek again.

"Handsome?" His voice is so raspy in the morning.

“Yeah, handsome. Very very handsome.”

He smiles when you snuggle closer to him. "So sweet. I have a question. Do you have a toothbrush for me?" His eyes are semi-closed as he asks.

“Oh, sure. I can find one.”

"I didn't realize I will stay over. I'm sorry for wasting one of yours."

“Oh, shut up.” You push him a little playfully. “You can waste anything you want.”

You come closer to give him a kiss. You don’t care about the toothbrush or anything else. You are just enjoying being in bed with him.

"My breath smells really bad." He shakes his head, embarrassed. You shrug and give him a kiss anyway. You are sure your breath doesn’t smell good either, but that doesn’t stop you. "Such a stubborn lady."

“I just don’t care, and for your information, it doesn’t smell bad.” You keep kissing him.

"If you continue, doll, we might end up doing something else." 

“Hmm.” You act like you don’t know what that means.

“Hmm?”

“Yeah, hmm.”

"What can it mean?"

“No idea.” You don’t move away, you don’t kiss him. You just look at him.

"Okay then." He gives you an innocent look. "Time for me to go to the bathroom."

You kiss his cheek, giving him space to get up. He pouts a bit disappointed but doesn't say anything.

“What?”

"Nothing. So where do I find a toothbrush?" He finally gets up.

“I will show you.” You follow him to the bathroom.

"Also, do you have any allergies?”

His question catches you off guard. “Not that I know off. Why?”

"Gonna cook something for you."

“You really want that ring, don’t you?” You joke with a big smile on your face.

His laugh fills the bathroom. "You want to give me a ring?"

“How else am I gonna make sure others know you are taken?” 

"You don't need a ring for that. At all."

“Yeah, you are right. I was just joking.” 

He smiles. "Wait for me in the bed. Whatever happens, you stay there, okay?"

“Okay.” You raise your hands in defeat.

"Good girl, go now." He pats your ass before letting you go.

You can’t help but smile on your way back to the bed. If this is how being married to Bucky is gonna be, you are down for it.

*

"Come on, another bite. Please."

“Fine.” You take another bite. It’s delicious but you are full. So full. The breakfast he made was simply amazing. You might really need to find a ring to put on him, because he’s definitely husband material.

"Good girl, and drink more water."

“I’m so full,” you say after taking a sip. “The food was just amazing.”

"You're full, huh?" He snorts.

“I am.” You give him a look, not understanding what he means.

"I think you can take more."

“No more food, please.”

"Oh, sweetheart." Bucky gives you a smirk. "That is not what I meant."

“Oh!” You finally get it and start to giggle wile takes a bite of pancakes from your plate.

"Oh, indeed."

“You wanna?”

"Do you?" He stares back.

“You are so annoying.” 

"Annoying enough to get you to kiss me?"

You give him a short kiss. “Thanks for the breakfast.”

"I didn't have mine, though."

“You can eat this.” You offer your leftovers. You’re sure that they’re more than enough to make him feel full, too.

"But I don't want that.” He whines. "I want you."

“You can have me.”

"Want you on my face."

“Again?” You sound surprised. “I thought you would want something that you would enjoy as well.”

"Excuse you? I enjoy that." His tone shows that he’s totally offended.

“Oh, you do?”

Bucky laughs so loud. "I cannot believe it wasn't clear."

“I mean… I’m not used to that. Maybe that’s why.”

"The question is if you’d like to do that again."

“Oh, yeah.” You nod eagerly. “I would love that.”

"Then…" He places the food carefully on the table next to the bed.

You bite your lip while getting up and taking your underwear off. He watches you excited as he gets on his back completely, waiting. This time you know what to do. So you get back to the bed and straddle his face.

"Use me however you want, okay? Don't stop."

“Tap on my thighs if you want me to stop, okay?” He nods and you lower yourself completely. He doesn’t even wait for a few seconds. “Jesus, Bucky.” You breath out. It’s hard not to make a sound when he works that enthusiastically. He doesn't say anything in return, too focused on spreading your lips with his tongue. You moan loudly and start to ride his face, and you realize shortly he loves it as his hands help you quicken your pace just the way you like it.

“Oh, god…” You try to get support from the headboard. “This feels so good.”

He groans against you, so hard, thrusting his hips in the air because you taste amazing.

You start to move a little faster as you feel like you are getting closer to your release. His nose starts to bump up against your clit from time to time and that adds an another level of pleasure.

"Keep going," he says breathlessly before taking you by surprise and slapping your ass twice.

“Fuuck. I’m- I’m so close.”

"Hmm." He slaps your right ass cheek one more time as his tongue moves to your clit. The sounds you are making don’t sound human anymore. You are aware of it, but it’s so hard to care when you start to come so hard on his tongue. He doesn't let go or stop licking you until he feels you are done, then he gently helps you move.

"Hi."

“Ahh.” You struggle to find your voice. “Hi.”

He giggles while cleaning his mouth with the back of his hand. "Feel good?"

“God, I’m keeping you. That’s it. That was my last drop.”

Bucky moans excited. "Are you proposing to me, love?"

“Well, not like this, and I gotta buy a ring first,” you jokingly answer.

"Hmm." He brings you close to his face so he can kiss you. "Maybe I will accept."

“Maybe? What can I do to guarantee a yes?”

Bucky smiles. "Who knows?"

“Maybe I should return the favor.”

"No need for that."

“Wouldn’t that help though? I wanna increase my chances.” You continue with that same joking tone.

"A little. What is your plan?"

“Give you head and then propose I guess.”

He suddenly blushes. “I didn’t expect you to say it so openly but love to hear what you think."

“Then I will keep speaking like this.” You move your face to give him a kiss on the lips. “So… You want it or not?”

Bucky nods and dutifully stays on his back, opening his legs more. You carefully undress him and settle between his legs. He’s already half hard and he looks so pretty laying like that, waiting for your next move. You start slowly, just moving your hands up and down, letting him enjoy it.

You lean down and start leaving kisses to him all over his skin. "Ahh." You move onto his thighs, placing your hand  on his cock without moving it.

"Gonna torture me?"

“Is this your definition of torture?”

"I'm a man."

“And I am a woman who enjoys what she is doing.” You don’t give him a chance to respond. You run the tip of your tongue from the bottom to the top of his cock.

"Oh, God." He closes his eyes for a couple of minutes.

“Open your eyes if you want me to continue.”

"Sorry..." he groans, opening them.

“Look at me the whole time, okay? Watch what I am doing to you. Think about this moment whenever you feel like giving up.” Then you finally take him inside your mouth.

"Oh, Jesus." His hands immediately get into your hair. "N-no warning?" You shake your head while your mouth is full of him. "I don't think I could forget this even if I wanted to."

You hum around his cock before you start to properly bob your head. You try to look at him, memorizing his reactions and see what he likes the most.

"Use your tongue more around the head, please."

You do what he asks, twirling your tongue around the head and watching him fall apart.

"Baby," he hisses. "Just like that."

You wrap your hand around the base after taking your mouth off it. Your fingers work on him while you take one of his balls inside your mouth, gently sucking to see if he likes it or not. He's so close as he bites his bottom lip. 

"You're a dirty little girl.” You hum in response, your mouth being too full to be able to answer him. "Wanna paint your face." It feels like the words are just spilling from his mouth.

You finally let go of his ball.

“My face, huh?” You ask before taking him back in your mouth, swirling your tongue around the head once again.

"You're a dirty girl, and I have to a make you dirtier. Would you like that?"

You shake your head in agreement, then you start moving your mouth and hand at the same time, going up and down until he quickly pulls out when he feels he's coming. And just like that, your face and hair are getting covered. You close your eyes and for some reason stick your tongue out.

"God, baby. You drive me insane." He finishes coming and stares at the way you lick some of his come. You can only open one of your eyes as his come is dripping on the other one. Then you wipe it off from your eyelid and lick it clean. "And you will make me get hard again."

“We know that doesn’t take much.” You giggle, remembering last night.

"You're so pretty like this. I can't..." He smiles watching you clean yourself more.

“I am not sure about that.” You smile. “I should go and clean myself properly.”

"Should we take a bath?" He excitedly asks

“Oh, that sounds great.”

Bucky helps her get up. "Let's go."

*

"Look at this," he leans in to kiss your forehead, taking the cup from you. "Thank you."

“After last night and this morning, the coffee was needed. At least for me.”

"I am human too, you know? I need coffee."

“You are a super human.” You smile before taking a sip.

"I hope my tongue is a super tongue, too." He winks and takes a few sips from his coffee. "So good. Now, I have something and I forgot to give it to you since we were... busy."

“Oh?”

Bucky nods and brings his hand into his left pocket. "Like I promised." Then he takes out a small wrapped up package.

“What is this?” You take it and quickly open it without destroying the wrapping. “Oh my god, Bucky! You got me new stockings!”

“Wanna try them on?"

“Right now?” You are surprised by his request.

"Yep. If you want, of course."

“You just want me to get undressed in front of you again.” You joke while standing up. You don’t mind trying them at all.

"Don't act as if you don't."

“See you get undressed or get undressed myself?” You take the stockings out of the package while talking.

"Both.” He watches you as you put them on, fascinated. “How do they feel?"

“They feel really nice.” You move your leg a little, inspecting the stockings. “High quality. Where did you even find this?”

"Pulled some strings. Being a soldier has its perks, you know? Being friends with Captain America, too." 

“You did not!”

"What?" He laughs at your tone.

“You used your Captain America advantage to get me stockings?”

"Yep."

“Oh my god!” You have a huge smile on your face when you are walking toward him. And without a word, you sit on his lap, straddling him and wrapping your arms around his neck. “Thank you. These are much better than the ones you ripped off.” You give him a kiss on his right cheek. “So you get a kiss.”

"So generous." He kisses you properly.

“Such a gentleman.” You pause for a few seconds before adding. “With dirty tendencies.”

"Well, I got a dirty girlfriend."

“Please, I’m pretty innocent.” You move away from his lap. “We didn’t even meet up in my apartment because that would be inappropriate.” You finally snort. “At least that’s what my friends think.”

"And you call them friends?"

“Gotta keep my reputation intact.” You shrug. That’s the way it is. “Oh, speaking of friends! I gotta ask you something otherwise Cassie will kill me.”

"What?"

“She wanted me to ask about Steve. Apparently, she hasn’t heard from him.”

"Oh…" It's all that Bucky says.

“Oh?”

"I didn't know."

“She wants to know if he ever mentions her.”

He doesn't know how to answer for a couple of seconds. Steve has never been into romance. "He's very focused on the future plans against Hydra."

“Well, that’s not surprising. If he thought about her, he would find a way to contact her, I guess.”

"He doesn't think about pretty much anyone, I am sorry."

You shrug. “I hope she doesn’t shoot the messenger.”

"I am sorry. Steve is very... particular. About life and work. He wanted to be in the army for so long, he doesn't see anything else."

“That’s… sad.” You reach for the coffee mug. “What about you?”

"Obviously not interested in sex or romantic life." He jokes once again, hoping that it would change the mood.

“I meant about life and work,  but we can talk about that too,” you say with a smile.

"I don't like fighting, you know? It's never ending." Even his voice sounds tired as he talks about it.

“I sensed that you don’t enjoy fighting, but I think you are pretty good at it. At least it seems that way, and I feel like you aren’t focused on the fight, but mostly on what can come after when this is all done.”

Bucky sighs, approving what you said with a nod. There is something scary and confusing about what the future. If he survives. What will change? After so much death and loss, what will happen?

"I hate this so much."

You have this urge to hug him and tell him it’s gonna be fine. Yet you don’t know if that’s the truth and you don’t wanna lie. “I hate it, too. It’s like our lives are completely revolving around the war.“

"Yes, but let's not think about it, baby." He kisses your forehead.

“It’s easier not to think about it when you are around.”

"You help me with that, too."

“Oh, do I?” You smile. “What do you think about instead of war when you are with me?”

"I think only about you."

“Another thing we have in common.”

Bucky smiles. "You're so smooth."

“Smooth? I meant I am thinking about myself, too.” You stick your tongue out a bit cheekily.

"Nice try." He snorts, amused by your comment. "I totally understand why you'd think about yourself, though."

“Why would I think about myself?” You wanna know what he’s thinking.

"You're funny, amazing, beautiful, smart." He kisses your cheeks. "You got everything."

“And what about you?”

"What about me?" He asks confused.

“What do you have?”

"Strings to buy you more stockings."

“Oh!” You both start to laugh. “That’s not all, though.”

"Right, I also got Captain America as my friend."

“You know that’s not what I meant.”

Bucky sighs. "I don't have much to offer unfortunately. I have 4 siblings."

“Jesus, do you really not know?”

"If you mean sexually..."

“Not only that. Stop underestimating yourself, you have a lot to offer. Look at me.” He lifts his head as you asked. “I love spending time with you. It doesn’t matter what we are talking about, it’s always interesting. You are smart, funny, thoughtful and so so pretty.”

Bucky melts under your eyes. "No one called me pretty before."

“You are so pretty, you have no idea. These eyes…” You touch the corner of his eyelid. “These lines,” You caress the smile lines. “These lips…”

He blushes instantly feeling your touch and brings your hand closer to his lips in order to kiss it. "You're so sweet."

*

After spending a little bit more time in your apartment, you and Bucky decide to go for a walk. He’s here for a limited amount of time and he should make the most of it. Maybe you can stop by a book or a record store together, eat something he craves and enjoy this sunny day to the fullest. You don't even realize how close you are until you feel his hand touching yours, subtly trying to hold it.

You feel butterflies in your stomach. You did a lot of stuff together so far, but you haven’t held hands yet. Not publicly. Not like this. You open your hand, just showing you want him to hold it, and he does proudly. 

"Do you want some ice cream, sweetheart?"

You take a deep breath, trying to calm yourself down. It’s so hard to fight the urge to smile. This might be the best day of your life. The sun is shining, Bucky is by your side, holding your hand. You don’t think life gets better than this. 

“I would love that.” He smiles before leaning in to kiss your head. Suddenly, you feel the urge to say what you have been thinking. He should know.

“You know that I will wait for you if you want, right?” You can’t help it. All the marriage and proposal jokes aside, you really want him in your life.

Bucky stops walking suddenly. "Doll..." He sighs, still holding your hand. "I don't want to make you go through this."

“You think I won’t go through it if we act like this means nothing, but you are wrong.” 

"I did not say that! This is not nothing, but I can't be engaged to you and leave you behind like this."

“Who said anything about being engaged?”

"We talked about getting married a lot. So I thought..."

“I didn’t say I don’t want to. I just meant that we don’t have to get engaged if that’s your concern.” 

"I don't know. Either way I can't let you go through that." He shakes his head. The last thing he wants is for her to wait for him not knowing if he will survive. "Because if I die..." 

“If you die… I would be devastated regardless. It doesn’t matter even if we decide not to see each other anymore.”

He doesn't say anything else, instead, he pulls you to him in the tightest hug you've ever felt.

"I don't want to lose you."

“Believe me, I don’t wanna lose you, either.” You wrap your hands around his body, burying your face into his chest. “My kidnapping offer still stands.”

You hear him snort. "You're just making up excuses to have me tied up."

“Do I need to?”

"No." He breaks the hug and reaches out for your hand again. "My future wife doesn't need excuses. You're stuck with me."

“And you are stuck with me.”

[wlfpet]

(Abby Anderson x Fem!Reader)

 — PAPI BONES

A/N: Hi, this is the formerly scrapped, 3x longer, 2 months writing project that I had because I wanted to fuck abby in a closet! this was actually supposed to be my first post on tumblr, but i got mad at it and sent it to the dungeon for two months :/ but yall wanted it, so I'm super happy i got to finish it, even though it took multiple days and cups of coffee to power through. sorry for the wait, hope you fuck wit her.

content tags (can you tell i don't want to write anymore ;w;): college au, childish antics at a big age, drinking, cool, ellie and dina are in this! kind of abstract sexual descriptions, assplay, cunnilingus (r!receiving), boob... touching? small mention of drugs because dealer!ellie, drunk sex, enthusiastic consent! :D, reader is kind of annoying sorry, men being assholes, reader catching feelings for a girl she fucked once, real.

wc: 7.6k ;w; (send help)

proofread?; barely.

tl : @clearheartgreyflowers, @oatmilkchaii, @ghostfacebunny, @ellsbclls (thank you to the sweetest deb @ellsbclls for helping beta read this, i appreciate your suggestions and encouragement and this would probably have been scrapped TWICE without your help ;w; )

synopsis: your best friend dina drags you to a college frat party. you hate shit like this, and you're painfully shy but when she does those puppy dog eyes you can't say no, so in a cruel twist of fate you end up in the closet with abby Anderson, and lose your virginity. yay college! (apart of the 'jackson university' thematic!)

Your idea of a Saturday night well spent wasn’t squeezing through a sea of sweaty backs; but like many things in your life, it wasn’t up to you, because you were easily swayed. Everything was overstimulating, the waves of bodies on bodies that pulsated and threw you between different poses and balances to keep on your feet, the ringing of laughter, of music, of every sound echoing in your head, around your body, vibrating through your very core. The smell of liquor and drunken antics and that one guy puking in the corner made you sick. But somehow, you were here, spurred on by peer pressure friendship and goodwill, trudging through the blackened room to your target; the snack table. 

Dina, your roommate, and determinant best friend held a firm hand on the small of your back, pushing you through the crowd and causing a small jolt to run down your body as she steered you around every obstacle and corner in the room. She was a woman on a mission, and the one who dragged you out of bed, convincing you - against your better judgment- that it was fatal that you accompanied her to a frat party. You knew she was good-natured, and your first friend when you moved 500 miles away from home to college. It was an instant click, but you were opposite best friends. 

Dina, ever the social butterfly, had connections in all different spaces; she could party with the sorority girls –hold the coke, please,– out-cram everyone, even the National Honor Society kids, all the way to the top of the class, hell, she was on the damn debate team, which was probably why it wasn’t a struggle to get a ‘yes’ out of you. You, on the other hand, were uncomfortable at bars, school sporting events, and parties, and one time you even thre– fuck, never mind. It was all effortless to her, in almost an enviable way. Dina loved to go clubbing, loved to hang, out, and she had been near-begging you to come out with her and her cool friends for months, not that you’re not cool, I mean. 

And somehow, despite everything, it worked. 

You could almost remember how you got there if you put away the sticky crunch of coke sticking to your shoes with each step, and reached back into the recesses of your mind. Or at least, back three-and-a-half hours ago. 

“They’re all great people, no weirdos, promise!” 

It was the emphatic plea made to you as you lay on your bed, queuing up the next episode of the apocalypse show you watched each week, watching her make Dina list off every reason why you just had to follow her out tonight. It was clearly very life-or-death shit to her, but you were unconvinced. It was just a party but there was going to be a smaller, more intimate kickback in a friend-of-a-friend’s basement. She was in the middle of getting ready, sitting at her school-issue desk and looking at herself in the mirror, dark hair coned over her head in a bun as she sat in deep concentration, words slurred and simple as she applied mascara, her mouth slacked into an O position.

“So you’re gonna like, fucking go, yeah?”

She said it as though it was obvious, like it wasn’t a question, but one look at you, –curled up in covers, laptop on chest, martini glass pajama pants and teddy bear teeshirt ON, unbothered– showed her that it would be a tall order, and that big guns would be needed. 

“Not interested, sorry.” 

“Not even a tinyyyyy bit?” Dina squeezed her fingers together for emphasis, throwing her head back in mock exhaust, a theatric groan rumbling out of her throat. “Not even a little bit.” You echoed, your roommate cutting her eye at you through her handheld mirror, but it was what it was. You weren’t into all of that stuff; the bump and grind of sweaty bodies wasn’t alluring, listening to someone else’s shitty music at ear-bleeding levels felt like hell, and if you wanted to get pitifully drunk and throw up all over yourself, there was a garbage can right under your bed. But your friend really, really, wanted your company and it made you feel, really, really bad to always blow her off. 

“Why are you going so hard on this?” You bemused as you propped up on your elbows, watching as she stalked around the room in her newly painted face, quickly rummaging through her drawer for a spare outfit. 

“Maybe because it bums me out to see my super cool roommate wasting away in her dorm every weekend?” In Dina’s mind, she was making a lot of sense. She was waiting for you to chime in, to say you know what, Dee? You’re right, I get it. But instead, you stared blankly, and she threw down her arms in exasperation. “You’re in fucking college, man! You don’t even wanna have one night of fun?”  She punctuated the ‘fucking’ with a wild gesture around her head, which made you chuckle to yourself.

“I mean, I was planning on wa–”

Your body was jostled by an insane amount of weight, almost turned completely over by two roughhousing dudes– a mess of limbs and arms, who looked at you and then at each other, as though they had spontaneously sobered up. You didn’t even have the time to start to be angry when they prattled off a blended, slurred apology and thrashed somewhere away through the mass of hands and faces in the dark room.

Fucking assholes, ruining the flashback sequence. 

The room was lit only by haphazard mood lights; soft LEDs and gaudy, flickering Christmas baubles, a solitary television, camped by stoners who laughed madly, and the dim auburn glow of the odd ceiling lamp nestled in the far back of the house. You were out of your element; you couldn’t dance, weren’t the most social, and even though you were with a friend, all of this made you feel very alone.

Dina cut through the crowd with her elbow, bellowing out “Ex–cuse me!” while she pushed you through gaps as they formed. Her voice fell to mutter again, barely audible, chunked and cut by the music bouncing from wall to wall, grumbling that she had places to be, and if E*&^$ didn’t get her off at least once, there would be hell to pay.  She was determined to get to the other side of the room, where it was arranged that by the chips, as smokers usually are, she would find her current fuckbuddy and her friends, waiting to hotbox and pregame a bit more before the room peaked. She was driven by horniness and selfishness, as one typically is after four shots of Tito’s vodka, and getting smoked out and ‘taken care of’ upstairs was half the reason she even came.

You’d never met her most recent suitor, and the question of her girlfriend was always met with a ‘no, she’s just my sneaky link.’ but you didn’t question it enough to know more. She was just the girl who Dina would go off campus to meet, and as long as she wasn’t a slasher, and her pre-rolls knocked you on your ass, it would be what it was. You were carried away by your friend’s excitement, by her heavy hand nearly lifting you off of your feet as she beelined to the kitchen, wrangling your twin bodies every which way. 

“Ellie! Ellie!” She yelled, jumping up and down a bit to compensate for her voice being swallowed by the bass. She burrowed through the wave, pushing you towards a girl leaning against the sink, nursing a red cup and low, hazy eyes. Her auburn hair was swallowed by a black docker, and a dark-coloured backpack jutted out from behind her as she smiled and waved the two of you –mostly Dina, into her orbit. She looped her head under your shoulder to be pulled into the strong hug of firm biceps, and Arms looked you over, offering a friendly nod. 

–

“It’s on streaming. You can watch ‘Many of Them’ literally whenever!”

“Live tweeting is a part of the experience.” You chided matter-of-factly, sitting up cross-legged. It wasn’t like the brunette was wrong, exactly, but you couldn’t give up too much at once. Going soft was not a part of the plan.

“Fuck, whatever– You know the girl I’ve been hooking up with, right?” Her eyebrow raised at your dispassionate ‘not really.’ “Well you know her fucking joints, she sells– weed, shrooms… pills?” Dina listed off with her finger, mulling over the last detail for a second, then confirming in her head with a nod. It’s fine, you’re cool, and the two of you had always bonded over your love of recreational joy anyways. “So, if you wanna smoke orsomething– I got you, all you have to do is show up.” Her hands were up almost sheepishly as she tested the waters, but you weren’t super convinced, and your idea of fun wasn’t exactly playing wingman while she got tongue-fucked by a drug dealer, and the pregnant pause was enough to cue her into having to bring out the big guns. 

“-And, and!  I'll wash all our dishes, and cleanyoursideoftheroomforaweek.” 

Damn, she practically ran through that last part, so under her breath you knew she was hoping that you didn’t hear. But you did, and for a second you could almost see a smirk play on her face as your eyes lit up. She was always up for a good bribe, and even though she would act annoyed, it was great for breaking you out of your shell. She would offer to watch the zombie show if you came out to the bars in your college town with her, pizza if you confessed to your crush instead of instastalking them three times a day, even though it didn’t work, –oh well, shooters shoot– and tonight? A week free from chores if you just spent a couple of hours in your own personal hell. Yeah, you would give her this one. 

“Now we’re talking. If you want someone to be the lookout while you and Jesse Pinkman go at it, who am I to deny?” You teased, kicking your legs over the edge of the bed. 

Your roommate craned her head up, momentarily stopping her mission of rifling through her clothes. “Who said that?”

“You’re in your ‘good panty’ drawer.” You whispered cheekily. 

“Well, you got me. Someone has to get fucked around here.”

“Oh fuck you, bitch!” You laughed, throwing your pillow, hitting smack in the center of her chest. 

Dina bounced around the room, practically billowing with glee. There was a descending, barely audible ‘fuck yeah’ as she traipsed down the hall towards the bathroom, rounding the corner and disappearing from your periphery. 

“By the way, you know Jesse’s last name is Huang, right, not Pinkman? And we’re uh– not together anymore.” Dina shouted through the silence.

“That’s a character from Breaking Bad. It was a joke– because he’s a drug de–” You stopped yourself midway. “Never mind. It’s not funny if I explain it.”

“Oh– I never watched Breaking Bad. Too Long.” She deadpanned. You chuckled to yourself, shaking your head as you slid your way off the bed. 

That’s how you found yourself in a dimly lit bathroom, missing the comfort of your memories as ‘Ellie’ rolled a blunt. You stood leaning against the door and Dina sat on the closed toilet seat. The dealer sealed the last of the leaf with a flick of the tongue and a lick of spit, maintaining direct eye contact with Dina so she could not-so-subtly show off. She passed it to the brunette first, who mimed a cheeky, ‘why thank you’ and drew poutily. You three sat there for a while, smoking and talking, steam from the hot shower wafting above your heads as music pumped through the foundation of the house. 

There was laughter outside of the door and it soon became awkward for you, Ellie and Dina finishing the blunt, –you were a lightweight– and chatting idly as Dina traced a fingertip against the outline of the tattoo Ellie was showing off. 

The temperature of the tiny room ran hotter between their reddened eyes, and it was as though you were being banished by a galactic force. You couldn’t mistake how the red-haired girl’s glance caught an extra second or so at the way Dina’s body was hugged just right in her party dress, cleavage strained against the fuchsia PVC of her neckline, and how she bit the corner of her lip when her eyes hooked on a dark mole on Dina’s breast that was framed by the feathers of her black hair.  

It was time to go, unless you were interested in seeing your best friend get dug out on the countertop.

You were already a little bit wobbly, hearing a giggle that slipped from Dina’s lips morph into a squeak as you slipped out of the crack you pulled in the door and into the fray, getting carried down the stairs and back over to the drinks. You crossed over a kissing couple, cutting into their makeout and heavy petting session, and through a huddled together group of girls whispering something about seeing an ex across the room. 

You gripped onto the countertop for stability when you finally broke free from the pulsating wave of bodies. There was a bit of everything surfing in deep bowls of ice and water, open bags of chips and snacks bunched up together on the island. You could not be sober for this shit. You wedged up the pop cap on a hard seltzer and brought it to your lips, the spirit coating your tongue and boiling its way into your stomach. There it was again, the familiar warm feeling in your hands and feet, the soft pressure already creeping across the flat of your face. Yeah, now that was it. The anxiety began to melt away, and you leaned against the countertop, flexing your legs. 

Wow, they’re inviting giants to the shindig too. You laughed to yourself as the scarlet-lit ocean parted, and a tall, wide figure walked through and into the darkness of a descending flight of stairs. If only it was that easy when you needed to piss, notwithstanding that you had already been in the bathroom.

 It’s fun being sardonic sometimes. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see your roommate coming down the stairs, the dealer’s deft fingers pulling down part of her dress that rode up her ass.  She arched her head up, straining left and right like the eye of a submarine as she looked for you; her eyes lit up, waving to you as she fisted her companion’s belt loop, bouldering through the sea of people. She was high as fuck, if her bright pink eyes were enough to speak to it, and your gaze lingered over the new expanse of a deep purplish hickey on her neck, small indents from teeth glimmering with saliva in the light.  

There was that hotness again that burned in the pit of your stomach, not from drunkenness or anxiety, but the can of fruity liquor in your hand covered up for the embarrassing flush of your wild cherry-coloured cheeks. You peeled your eyes back up to her face and smiled dumbly. You’d never had *that* before. You’ve watched things before at least, and obviously, touched yourself to the thought, but you’ve never had someone to fool around with in bathrooms or hold your skirt when it rode up.

There was your first kiss, but it was in middle school, so it didn't count. It was all clammy lips, two noses that couldn’t get the space between them *quite* right, and an overzealous set of chompers that left you with a bloody lip. Actual horseshit, but somehow, a core memory. It was annoying in a way, how it just didn’t come to you, but you wanted to be wanted. To be lusted over, desired even in that casual touchy way that simmered between your best friend and the girl you didn’t know very well.  Dina was making grabby hands at you, wide-eyed and bushy-tailed. Your drink bobbed as she whisked you to her will, you and Ellie sharing a knowing look as she pushed your bodies through the hall and down the darkness of the stairwell. 

– 

“RULES ARE SIMPLE,” some asshole in a hat bellowed as he stood over all of you who sat in the circle, mildly drunk off your asses and looking for easy fun. He held up a black beer bottle, carrying it like a trophy and swishing it around your noses for a closer look. “You kids might know seven minutes in heaven.” You didn’t know him, but according to Dina, this was his house, his party, and his very annoying rules. A light patch of raised skin played against his nose as he scrunched his nose over and over again, hands on hips, clearly trying to steal back whatever thought the liquor took from him. Jason, right? 

Whatever. 

“But we’re all grown-ups here, so I present to you–” He rolled the bottle in hand, clearly soft-launching his bright idea. “Fifteen minutes in purgatory!” There was a deep groan radiating from some, but there was a small minority that exploded in cheers, and whoops. “Pretty self-explanatory, two adventurers venture deep into purgatory, and come out forever changed.

“Two adventurers go deep into purgatory,” He gestured his head at the foreboding broom closet in the back of the room. “And return forever changed.” 

“We’ll use the bottle to choose our unlucky voyagers, and you’ll spend fifteen minutes in the closet.” He explained, dropping the mystique in the second half. “Alright kids, let’s start; and just for the record– If you’re a pussy, get the fuck out of the circle!”

The drunken cast of partiers whooped and cheered, hyping each other up, spilling beer out of red cups as they gestured wildly, entirely too grown for this. The room played ‘not it’ to pick who got the first spin, and the unfortunate soul was a blonde who sat cross-legged, blank-eyed at the black glass handed to her, nodding her head tersely. 

“We got our very own Abigail Anderson– !” Her eyes narrowed. “Andddd….” Hat praised, cueing her to spin. She took the bottle, pointing the tip towards herself and then spinning it, the glass doubling, tripling the circle, making you dizzy chasing it with your eyes, and everyone sat with bated breath. It slowed and slowed and slowed, until, like ugly fate, it stopped at your feet.

“Our newbie!” He got up to cheese, leaning over you, placing his hands over your shoulders, and rocking you from side to side. You laughed awkwardly, putting your palms up defensively at nothing. 

“Um– uh…” You were at a loss for words, only cut off as his head shot into your field of view, hot, hopsy breath tanging your nostrils. “What, you scared?” He taunted, all eyes on you, watching as you nursed a deep discomfort about the whole thing behind an uneasy smile.  

“You’re a fucking asshole, Jordan.” The girl, Abby, groaned. She looked up at you from her downward pointing head, swishing her bottle of hard cider in the hand propped over her knee. Jordan, that was the name of this dickhead. Yeah, fuck him. “If she doesn’t want to get in the closet, she doesn’t want to get in the closet. I’ll just spin again.”

Dina cut in, the redhead still leaning lazily against her. “Yeah, don’t–dont be a dick, Jordan.” Her face was tight, and Ellie was annoyed because Dina was annoyed, and the room held a pregnant silence, and even though it wasn’t your fault, you felt all too responsible and all too uncomfortable with all of the eyes watching you.

“It’s fine, guys. Let’s all– eh, chill out, okay? I’m going to take the dare.” You leaned in, voice dropping to a whisper, trying to steal back the vibe, trying to replace the tension with playful drama as you circled your head around, wiggling the fingers slightly of your held-up palms. “Because I’m not a little bitch.”

The crowd exploded in raucous laughter, each voice clashing together and mimicking the sound of a pipe bursting. You looked over at your partner, who seemed pleasantly surprised, a smirk playing on her peach lips. She placed down her bottle and stood, and as she towered over you, you realised that maybe you were playing with fire. She was scary and nonchalant, but the outer workings of her face were soft and gentle. She didn’t look like the girls in the videos you watched at night; she was something different, uncharted, and before you knew it, a nervousness, and something lower, darker, ran through your body. 

Then it was time to go, you piling in first, looking around at some of the half-darkness in the room, barely enough to fit two people in. 

The asshole patted the girl’s back, corralling her into the closet behind you. Blood rushed to your head, the pressure was too great, like getting skullfucked through your ears. show her a good time, you could hear him say, and then something that you couldn’t quite understand over the bass. The mountain’s eyes narrowed, but before she could shoot back, her large body crashed into yours and the space became tighter and tighter, just enough for the two of you to put your arms out to either side or turn around. For a split second, you could see Dina’s face from over Jordan’s shoulder, tightened in concern, a timid thumbs up at the side of her head. Then, he closed the door, and the last of the light slipped out through the crack in the wall. 

There was a deep silence, and somehow, like the hazy feeling you get right before you wake from a dream, you were chest to chest in the darkness with her blue eyes staring back at you, damn-near bioluminescent. You’d seen her around, because everyone sees her around, but it hadn’t registered that the giant who had parted all of those people in the crowd like they were just water, was standing right in front of you. Outside you could hear the rumble of the music, vibrations of the bass wrapping around you and shaking you from the inside out. The closet was too tight, too warm, too filled with smells from towels and coats and folded blankets and dusty boxes of light bulbs and two cramped, awkward bodies. 

Suddenly, you felt all too intimidated.

“You’re Abigail, right?” You questioned. “Off the rugby team?”

“Abby.” You couldn’t read her face in the dark, and though she spoke pointedly she didn’t seem angry, but the accidental overstep was enough to make you want to dig a hole through the floor with your bare hands and die in it. “And yeah– captain, of the rugby team.”

“Oh, sorry, sorry.” You yielded. “So… what are we supposed to do? In here, I mean.” You gestured at nothing, knocking some washcloths from a top shelf down in the dark. “Ah, damn it.” You cursed under your breath, bending down to pick up the small stack. You could hear Abby behind you, sucking her teeth with a judgy hum.  Her brows were almost touching her eyelids, captured in secondhand embarrassment, and she almost felt bad for how awkward you were, scrambling to pick them up from the floor.

  If you could see her face, you’d be able to tell how her eyes flicked up and down her body, taking everything in. Your black skirt slid slightly to bunch at the front, uncovering portions of your doughy thigh and the ever-so-tiniest range of fabric hiding your prettiest secret. She had to tear her eyes away, almost. She jumped, even, glad you couldn’t see as you popped back up. 

You were cute, holding the disheveled stack in your hands, a look of sheer pride on your face. You looked over to the side, tossing them unceremoniously on a free shelf, gravity taking a couple back to the ground. Your sated chuckle, the way your tits pushed up slightly, illuminated, almost framed like art by the neckline of your cream cardigan made her hungry. She pushed the ideas of what she wanted to do with them out of her mind, but damn, she could think about some things that would make the devil embarrassed. She stomped down her desire, stoicism crossing her for a second, only for her to open it back up on second thought.

“They want us to fool around, fuck, ideally.” She started, analysing your expressions for any hint of discomfort at the conversation. “But– we don’t have to do anything.” She tried to cut some of the thick discomforts with a placating smile, almost lost in detail in the low light. She was huge, more so than you, or most anyone else you knew, the jutting-out edge of a shelf knocking the back of her head every time she leaned her head back in the tight space. The hard washboard of her torso was framed by an opening of a grey hoodie and barely much else, just the thick band of her boxers peeking from her sweatpants, and the black of a cropped tank top that stopped right below her bra line. 

“Jordan… is typically a good guy, but when he gets drunk he’s a total POS.” Abby was sallow-faced, pursing her lips, tension running through her jawline. “I shouldn’t have let him put you on the spot like that. So… I’m sorry that you got pressured to get in here.”

“It’s fine, I just.” You started, ready to say that big phrase, the one that slightly burned your back to admit. “I’ve never done anything like this before.”

“What, played seven minutes in heaven? Yeah, kind of a jackass thing to suggest in your twenties.”

Shit. She was going to make you say it. 

“No. I mean I’ve never–” and you thought your tiny voice couldn’t get any tinier. “had sex before.” 

Abby breathed in the deepest sigh, pure anxiety crossing her face for a split second, before she was feeding you apologies. “It’s fine, we don’t have to do anything we can just sit here and talk. Or be in silence if you want it’s alr–”

“I want to do it.” You said doggedly, pressing yourself into a tiny corner. Her brow perched, and there was something in those narrowing blue eyes that said she didn’t believe you. You were pigeontoed, legs shifting against one another, declaring in your firmest voice that you wanted her to take your virginity. 

“Are you sure?” She breathed out, stepping a bit closer. “You don’t have to feel pressured to do anything because you think they want a show.”

“Oh, my god.” You were pouting, annoyed. “I can choose if I want to have sex you know, and I want to have sex right here right n–”

She kissed you, softly as possible, testing your waters to see how far you were willing to go. Her hands were patient, one lightly knotted in the woolen knit of your cardigan to lightly pet your lower back, the other making gentle grips on your sweatered arm. Her fingers were barely bruising, gripping around your wrist almost tight enough, and a tiny shockwave coursed between your thighs and convinced you that you wanted more. In this low light, in this dark room, in this place between space and time, you wanted to be her conquest. To be taken, touched, manhandled, to be made to weather the storm of her overwhelming strength against you, lost in the middle of the ocean.

It was perverted, almost, how the idea of her showing restraint raised hairs on your skin, how you deepened the kiss like you were being overcome with an insatiable, bloody hunger. You had to take back the moment, to steal her attention in a way she couldn’t deny before she thought you were all talk; you stepped closer, positioning yourself so that her thigh hovered right below the heated space under your skirt. Her hand was warm, soft as you grabbed it, moving it lower, deeper down the divot of your back and where the fat of your ass connected. She caught on, groaning into your lips as she kneaded around your body, her tongue sweeter and heavier against yours, working that one damned hand up your skirt to cup bare skin. 

You jumped. 

As fast as it had come, her hand slipped back from under your skirt and the touch was lost completely, awkwardly hovering for a second until Abby pulled it back into her pocket and stepped back. You were miserable, eyes welling up in frustration like a lost dog at the lack of feeling. She was pulling you into insanity but was too chivalrous to drown you in it, rubbing the back of her neck sheepishly as she looked down at you.

“Fuck– didn’t mean to be aggressive like that. I–” The redness bled across her cheeks, freckles on full display as her fingers met the wet spot that you were hiding, your hands guiding hers to the space between your thighs. There was a pause, a knowing, a challenge between the two of you as an unknown heat spread throughout your bodies, and you collided once more. The blonde’s mouth sucked a nasty pressure into your throat, agitating it with bites and licks as her head traveled deeper, hands playing at the front of your sweatered torso to undo the buttons that held your breasts hostage. 

Her entrance was assured as she popped the loops open, fingers gripping the fabric of your camisole and lifting up, taking your bra with it. She nipped at the exposed flesh, heat from her mouth traveling directly to your vagina, clit throbbing hard with need. Abby engulfed a nipple with the wetness of her tongue, closing her lips around the rapidly hardening bud to pull it to full attention, chuckling as she scraped the flesh with her teeth. The wet head was replaced with her palms, each thumb and forefinger rolling one or the other. The sensitivity of the tiny flesh was insane, enough to make you whine out loud as she continued, better than anything you had ever done to yourself. 

You were biting your lip, eyes big and doe-like as you waded through your pleasure, soft pants heaving your chest. She fished it out from between your teeth and hooked it within her own, popping the plump flesh into her mouth as she pared yours with her tongue. You swore the room was spinning, a wetness slicking between your thighs, a drip positioned between two pairs of hungry lips. You could’ve spent all fifteen minutes– or an eternity, in this beautiful hell, giving and taking and relishing in a different, sort of strange type of want.

“Don’t stop.” You moaned in between stolen breaths, the blonde chasing your mouth each time you pulled away.

“For you, pretty?” Gripping you tighter for emphasis, pressing you closer into the wall, angling further between your spread legs. “Never.” 

It was like you were some weird intoxication to her, a drug that she couldn’t get enough of. How your ass molded right into the divots of her palms, those tiny moans that rang through the cage you two were in, the rapid beating of your heart rippling through your body. She wanted to peel your cardigan from your shoulders, wanted to shred your clothes from your body and take you however she liked, and make you feel better than you knew what to do with. Needed to make you scream and fuck you until you cried. But it was your first time, so she resigned to being gentle and soft, like you were a little deer in the forest, and she was trying to get close without scaring you off. so she would give you only what you needed. 

She didn’t have a lot of strong feelings about that nickname she had earned in sophomore year, War Machine, from all of the pretty girls she ran through and left unable to walk, unable to talk for a couple of days or more. but when Jordan said it, in front of you, in front of sweet and innocent, pretty and tiny *you* she could’ve reeled back and torn him apart. But she still didn’t want to scare you. So she had forced an alright, the one a child forces when they get scolded, and hid the burning in her palms that made her want to fight in the pocket of her pants. 

Your eyes bored x-rays through her formidable thighs as she bent her knees to squad before you, strong hands rubbing up and down your thighs with contrasting gentleness to the hard angles of her face, the brow that was crooked down slightly in concentration, the slightly parted lips playing with mischief as they took you in. You were frightened for just a second, until Abby looked up at you with sympathetic eyes, a hand leaving your thigh and linking with your fingers, guiding you to the base of her skull to envelop her honeyed strands. 

She was back at you, the darkness in your stomach leaking out as you palmed her head, and she ran her hands upward, more upward, until the ruffles of your cotton skirt were overturned in her palms. From the waist down, you were completely exposed, a wet spot working itself into your panties from your innermost recesses and a musky scent betraying your shyness. 

Abby pressed herself gently into the fabric, her fat lips creating a cool pressure against the hot flesh, her nose itching lightly into your pubis. You bucked your hips unconsciously, nearly fucking her face in your abandon. A vibration from her laugh traveled through you, nestled inside of you, and more wetness began to slick your channel. That friendly ache formed in your rapidly hardening clit, and a similar pain throbbed in your pinkie and middle finger. Her other hand moved up, gripping fistfuls of your ass, less forgiving now, and forcing a squeak from your lips. 

You were dumbstruck; a stranger’s hands all over you, mouth nearly on top of your sacred place, nearly leaking from sheer lust. She had barely done anything. Your jaw slacked, and in your mind you felt like a fool, lamenting how you thought your first time would be special. Soft circles rubbed into your inner thigh as she pulled your legs apart, peppering angel kisses throughout the little divots. 

“S’okay, baby.” Her voice was barely a whisper, a tiny encouragement that calmed the buzzing in your mind. “Tell me how you want me. I’m yours.” 

and you thought that declaration would destroy you,’ I’m yours.’ and it felt very, very real. 

“I want you to touch me.” You said, barely a whisper, nodding as she pressed her face to your thigh, sliding down your panties to about knee-level. It was as though she had seen heaven’s gate open, awestruck at the blood rushing to engorge your lips, how your clit stood on end without even being touched. The thatch of hair curling between your thighs and around your depths. She had to have a taste, and there wasn’t much room for second-guessing as she pressed her mouth to the hot spot and flattened her tongue directly against the wettest space.

Juicy noises slid from her mouth as she rolled your clit between her tongue and sucked sharply with her lips, and it was as though you could’ve sunk to the floor, the way your legs became distinctly not yours. It was enough, enough, not enough, then too much. It was like you were an endlessly gushing fountain as Abby’s wet, firm tongue parted your lips, dipping ever so lightly into your hole as she licked out a string of nectar from your drooling cunt. It was as though you were animated, possessed even, as your hands flew into her hair, pushing her head down further and further, to that release you chased violently and madly. 

Abby was humble, letting you guide her where you needed her; she was soft at first, but you didn’t want soft, you wanted more. 

She obliged. 

The blonde slipped her fingers between your thighs and parted your slit, opening up an endless, waiting tightness. She was intrepid, pressing through your clenching muscle and opening you up more than you had ever done; thick digits tearing through you, fucking your pussy at an unforgiving pace, concentration forming in the muscles of her neck. You hid an inhuman growl in the pit of your throat, in the crook of your sweatered elbow, and she moaned out, satisfied with that which she had created inside of you. You were fucking her face in a tight, dirty closet, calf propped over a muscled shoulder for support, the heel of your booties pressing into the wall, locking her in.

 It was as though the two of you were fighting, every roll of your hips she chased with her head, every time you shied away from the pleasure she held you harder, taking you even hungrier, diving deeper to a spot you didn’t know was there; every taut pull at her scalp met with an even tighter grip into the flesh of your plush ass. The pads of her fingers violated the sopping warmth of your cunt, and you clenched your stomach unwittingly, walls flexing, holding her hand there. Drool dripped from between her lips, pooling and soaking down into the fibres of an old shag rug, caked with dust and whatever else. 

Your own slipped between your lips before you could suck it back in, and the silver trail bounced, the way it does when it breaks, and the thick drop cascaded down her temple, getting lost in your brow. The piece that was yours snaked down your collarbone and between your breasts and somehow, you felt a connection. 

Abby snorted, sucked in a breath as her fingers left you empty. Fuck. She didn’t go for her face, wiping them on the skin of your pussy, they traveled upwards, firm grips on your ass. She rubbed the flesh as though she was throwing clay, stretching the skin between her rough fingers, calluses on her palms coasting over every bump and groove. She had found what she had wanted, craning her neck lower, lower, until you could just barely see her eyes. Her fingertips prodded, greedy, opening your lips, tongue leching against your soft fruit as though she was funneling the juices directly into her mouth. You thought your thighs would give out but she held you, stronger, and you fed her willingly. 

Her middle finger dipped down into the slit, collecting juices, stealing a breath from your lungs, you wanted to scream her name but it was caught inside of you, so you stood slack-jawed, fuck drunk as she abused your walls, fucking every ridge painfully slow. The tight hole stretched around the meatiness of her finger, and she hooked it as though she was searching, retreating from the warmth, slick with your nastiest of liquids. Again, she split your ass with one hand, and you clenched your tightest hole without thinking about it. 

“Don’t worry,” She said, muffled against your mound as she latched against it once more, “gonna help you so fucking good.” You were confused, but you trusted her, a complete stranger. For a second you began to ask what there was to worry about, but your mind was pried away from you as you felt the pressure of her coated fingertip tracing around your asshole. A gentle kiss played at the head of your pussy, comforting you as you nodded your head wildly, something of a ‘yes’ flying from your throat as her middle finger parted that threshold. 

Your mind exploded, head shooting straight up into the air, a small yelp burning into a silent open-mouthed cry. You were spinning, the room was spinning, your body heated up instantly. Then, the wet warmth traveled back to your clit, her opposite hand nestling two fingers into your aching, needy twat, her tongue lapping as her fingers resumed digging and that one damned finger fucked in and out of your tightest hole painfully slow. 

She fucked you like an animal; you cried out like a bitch in heat. The music trembled through your ears, and you were afraid it wouldn’t be enough, that everyone would hear, everyone would know. You were both drunk and this didn’t matter, didn’t mean anything, but she was bottoming her tongue out in you and you wanted it to mean a lot. Girls talked and you fucking hated them all. She was loose, she got around, and you wanted to be hers. 

You wanted to capture her and be interesting to her and walk with her hand on your lower back around campus. Wanted her callused fist in your hair, around your neck as she took you every night. Wanted badly to fucking cum, to open the portal, to wash her face with this unholy water, wanted to kiss wet lips and taste everything. Wanted to know if she could ever like you, after you gave it up, quickly, bellowing like a foghorn against a rack of coats. You wanted to be kept, to keep her spit inside of you like a keepsake but she sucked it back in a quick second, before you could even feel her cheeks hollow between your thighs, and felt dirty for even thinking of it. 

A sweet pain formed between your thighs and you couldn’t stop the groan that rose from your throat, every muscle in your face clenching and unclenching, your eyes crossing as your orgasm came quickly into view. Abby fucked you through it, fingers slow and forgiving. It was as though a stream of slowly descending tidal waves were crashing against you, and you needed more, it hurt but you needed more. Something deep burned inside of you, endlessly hot, and you wondered how she could stand the heat as she hit it over and over again.  You sobbed, and swore that you could feel a tear roll down your cheek, feeling the need to rub your eyes for good measure.  

She looked up, entranced, face softening for a second, watching as you gave up your mind to your body. There was a hard knock at the door, the music lowered a decibel, silence filling the two of you, her fingers still deep inside of your two holes. A sing-song voice bellowed out ‘five minutes!’ and the darkness ridged her eyes. 

For the first time, her voice was hard, removing her hand from your cunt, making sure to curl the one in your ass tighter in compensation. She slammed the door twice with her fist, the frame bulging in a way that made you fear the whole thing would just fall down. “Fuck off.” Her voice was loud enough to tear through the uncomfortable tension. There was an apprehensive, ‘woah man,’ that you could barely hear, and the music regained, the party rejoiced, and hopefully, the fear of God being struck enough in your host to leave well enough alone. 

Her lips were still slick, soft, kissable with your juices. She flashed you a genuine, pretty smile.  Her hands gripped a little too tight but you wanted it all. She looked down at the mess between your trembling thighs, then at your heavy, panting face. She leaned back on her heels as a wide smile played on her face, satisfied with herself. A windy chuckle passed through her glistening lips, wiping her mouth and chin on the inside of her hoodie. “Fuckin’ insane.” She breathed out in between pants. 

“Abby.” She said, as though the strength of your orgasm traveled through your brain and made you forget the events of the last 15 minutes. “Constance Hall. Dorm 425 on the second floor.” It was as though your heart skipped a beat, but you punched it down, a weak smile playing against your lips. 

She was fucking disheveled, almost inhaling the last sweet smells of your pussy, creating a memory of the flavour and filing it away in her mind for safekeeping. She was delicate, pulling your white panties up to your thighs again, soothing a finger where those soft, curly pussy hairs were hidden again. She let down her hands, skirt furling down, covering the marks of dark possession that she left behind. “Come see me again sometime, ‘kay?” She chuckled, giggled even, and that glint in her eyes was enough to make you faint. 

She stood up, waiting for you to compose yourself and straighten everything out before she pushed open the now-unlocked door and peeked her head out.

Jordan was already on her as the door flew open, and you could hear his hushed nosiness as you hugged the wall and tried to act casual, eyes locked on her retreating back as she reentered the room, light haloing her. ‘So what happened?’ you swore his lips read, and your stomach dropped. But she cut through his questions, loud enough for you to hear, convincing enough that he wouldn’t have anything to run his mouth about later on. 

“Nothing man, we were just talking.”

Maybe she was actually just that charming. 

Yeah.

[ghostskiss]

Hate

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x f!reader WC: so many omg (9.2k) Summary: On a pranking war, you end up taking something from Ghost to get back at him. He’s bound to get back at you. Warnings: 18+ Enemies to lovers, Voyeurism, Stalking (? Kinda.), Teasing, PIV, Oral (AFAB receiving), Dub-con elements (I think? Just tagging that in case. Reader wants him but isn’t letting him know it), Spit, Biting, A bit of blood, Hate Sex, Edging, Overstimulation, Creampie, Condescending!Simon, He’s kinda mean in this Sorry (heheh)

Irritation is settling into your bones. Maybe even your hair follicles. The pores in your skin. Your entire soul. The point is, you’re irritated. Pretty soon, you’re going to be pissed.

Stomping through the building to the mess hall, you fume. You’re thinking of all the ways you can get back at him. This has been going on for weeks. Months, actually. You’re ready to throw your towel in. Wave around a white flag. You don’t care how smug the bastard is going to be. You don’t care if he gives you that knowing smirk under his mask, unable to see it, but still somehow knowing he’s laughing at you anyways. Hands clenching at your sides, you swing the door open. Soap flinches, seated at the table, his eyes shooting to you. Surprise plasters on his face.

“Uh-oh. Incoming.” Soap starts, his gaze going from your storming form to his friend, Ghost. The pair are enjoying their dinner it seems.

“Riley.” You grind out, coming to a hot stop behind him. Weirdly, he had his back to the door.

He doesn’t even bother to turn.

“Yes, dear?”

Soap tries to hold a laugh back, coughing. “Shit, what’d you two get into now?”

It’s not unknown to the rest of the 141. The thing you and Ghost have, the going back and forth, the endless pranks on each other. It started as an accident, your accident. Sometimes at night when you’re lying in your bed, you stare at the ceiling, wondering what would have become of the two of you if you hadn’t done what you had. It was an accident; you even apologized to him! Multiple times. He still would not let it go. He got back at you. And then you got back at him for thinking he could get back at you. The cycle continued. Still does, to this day. All because you’d accidentally -accidentally- switched out his shampoo for yours. Something so stupid and trivial snow balled into…into this!

Your hand opens over the table, the item falling to the middle of it. You should’ve dropped it into his food. Soap looks down, shock spreading across his face before he sputters with laughter. It makes you angrier. It’d be fine if Soap was laughing at something you did to Ghost, but when it’s turned around, it makes you want to kill the both of them.

A small black plastic spider sits in the center of the table. It looks ridiculous now, under the lights of the mess hall, but it was scarier in your dark room, sitting right on top of your pillow.

Ghost lets out an unimpressed snort, “The hell is that?”

“What do you mean, ‘the hell is that?’ It didn’t crawl into my bed by itself, Ghost!” You shrill out, ready to punch him in the head, really. You never should have told anyone about your fear of spiders. It’d been another accident; this time alcohol had loosened your lips. You never thought it’d be used against you like this.

Soap slaps a hand to his mouth, trying to contain his glee. It looks like he kicks Ghost under the table. “You put that in the lass’s bed? You’re cruel, Lt.”

The man gives a noncommittal shrug and finally looks at you from over his shoulder. His mask is pulled up enough to eat. It’s normal for him to be comfortable enough to expose that much of his face in front of Soap, but the rest of the team? Forget it. He seems to notice his mistake, pulling his mask back into place. You don’t miss the curve of his smile before he does. It sends a shock down your spine, and you feel yourself falter a bit before fixing your scowl.

“You scared of a little toy? Explain to me how you’re on the team, again?” He stands, apparently done with his dinner. You have to move back to give him space, and of course, he doesn’t ask you to move. You do it anyways, pissed that he knows you’ll move to accommodate him.

You cross your arms over your chest as he pushes past you, tossing his food in the bin. He leaves the mess hall like you’re not throwing daggers at his back. Huffing, you turn back to Soap, who’s playing with the tiny plastic legs on the toy spider. Pointing the toy at you, he chuckles, shaking his head like he can’t believe it.

Sighing, you sit down, anger almost disappearing now that the idiot who caused it is gone. You snatch a bread roll off Soap’s plate, sinking your teeth down into it.

“Gotta give it to him. Where the hell do you think he found this?” He flicks the toy to the table, not bothered that you’re eating his bread.

You shrug and swallow the piece before answering, “Who knows.” Your gaze is fixed to the toy, and then a thrill runs through you. A smile crawls to your lips as you fixate on it.

“Christ, lass, you look absolutely evil.”

Standing abruptly, you push yourself away from the table. Soap calls out to you, and you ignore him. You’re on a mission now. Your feet take you through the building to the sleeping quarters. You mentally check the time. Ghost was just eating dinner. Next, he’ll be in the showers. Without fail, you can count on the routine your lieutenant keeps. It’s not like you’re paying that much attention. Everyone knows, so that they can steer clear of him. The time he eats dinner, the time he heads to the showers, the time he cleans his guns in the weaponry room. He’s very vocal on the times he needs to be left alone. Soon, he’ll be bedded down for the night. You need to utilize the time that he’s in the showers.

You’re standing outside his quarters, staring down the closed door. A nervous chill hits you. It feels violating, this plan that you’re scheming. To even be going into his quarters. Anger comes to you now. He crossed that line with you, remember? He went into your room, somewhere in between the time you’d got back from your operation with Gaz and the time it took you to get ready for bed. You’re just playing the game he started, as always. Steeling your nerves, you push the door open. Of course, it wasn’t locked. The audacity someone had to have to sneak into Ghost’s room. He’s cocky enough to think no one would.

As the door creeps open, you slip in the dark room, shutting the door as carefully as you’d open it. The dark’s adjusting to your eyes as you lean up against the door. Taking a deep breath, you regret it instantly. It smells so much like him. You step forwards into the room, captivated. You can see a bit, but you don’t want to risk turning on the light. Pulling your phone out, you activate the flashlight on. It luminates the room as much as it can, and you suck in another breath. There’s nothing personal in here. It looks barely lived in. You at least have some things in your room, books, pictures. The only reason you know it’s his room is the singular knife on his desk. That’s what you’ve come for. Not wanting to test your luck, you shoot your hand out and grab it, leaving his room.

You’re pacing quickly down the hall, passing the corridor that leads to the showers. Your walk slows to a crawl as you listen intently, ears straining to pick up anything they can. The showers are still running, good. It gives you a bit of relief, and you continue on your mission. Hiding the knife in your room is not going to work, that’d be the first place he’d look. Chewing the inside of your cheek, you look down at the object in your hand. It’s a simple pocketknife, small and black. You have no idea why he’s so fond of it. In meetings, it’s the thing he toys with, flicking it back and forth in his gloved hands, opening and closing, running a gloved finger on the edge it. It irritates you because it’s distracting, always. Price never calls him out on it either, letting him fidget with it like he’s a kid that can’t sit still. Your thumb catches on the hidden blade, popping open with a satisfying click. There’s an old engravement on the blade and you squint, trying to read it. No use. It’s obvious the blade has been used and worn over with how ever long he’s had it, years you’re guessing.

Shutting it, you ignore the wiggle of uncertainty in the back of your mind. Of course, it means something to him. That’s why you’re taking it. It’s a line the two of you have yet to cross, but you’re still pissed about the toy spider. If he’d heard the shrill of fear you’d let out, you would be more eager to do this. It was humiliating, how scared you were, only to realize the thing hadn’t moved an inch as you clutched your hand to your heart, pressed up against the door like it’d jump and attack you. The courage it took to step near it, to touch it with a pen you’d grabbed from your desk.

The memory makes you grit your teeth. You hate him. It was one thing to prank each other, it was another to come into your room and deliver your worst fear, plastic toy or not. Your hand clenches around the knife handle and you close it with determination. Fuck him. You head to the locker rooms. You have a locker, just as everyone else. You hardly use it, however, as you have too much trust in your team to ever put anything in there. Thinking back to the combination of the lock, you put it in wrong several times before getting right. Opening the empty locker, you place the knife down and shut it, spinning the lock, and checking to see if it’s locked. A tension filled sigh leaves you. For now. The tension will be back tomorrow, when he finds out his knife has gone missing, you’re sure. You’ll need to practice your poker face.

Heading back to your room, you settle down for the night. Of course, you check for any strategically placed toy spiders. When you find none, you climb slowly into bed, staring up at the ceiling. He was in here. He placed the toy on your bed. You wonder what he thought of your small space, your things. If his hand trailed on your covers before he left.

***

“No. There isn’t enough time, you’ll go out to this building,” the eraser of the pencil in your hand presses against a point on the map, “and you’ll move to the roof. Don’t wait up for me.”

“Lass—” Soap starts, and you cut him off with a mere hard look.

The two of you have been here in the mess hall for too long, arguing with half eaten bagels and coffee that’s getting cold. Going back and forth isn’t something you really do with Soap, it’s Ghost. But he’s got something up his ass about this op. The extraction is supposed to happen at a different point, he’s supposed to take the package and head to the roof of a building in the opposite direction going in. He doesn’t agree with splitting up in enemy territory, neither do you, but it’s how it has to go down. Only the two of you are assigned to this job.

“Don’t start, seriously.”

“Why don’t we get more people on this?”

“You know why, Soap. Everyone has a job to do, this is ours. I’m not about to ask Price to stretch his crew thin when it already is.”

“I know exactly who to ask. I bet if I tell Lt, he’ll do it, no questions asked.”

You roll your eyes and huff, settling back into your chair. It’s been two days since you’d stolen his knife, and he’s still livid. No one knows exactly why, he wouldn’t say what’d happened, but you knew the moment he walked into the meeting two days ago. You knew he knew that you knew why he was uptight. Not that you told him. You denied knowing anything on why he’s in a piss poor mood, even when your mates pulled you aside to ask what you did. You could’ve boasted, told everyone you finally got a one-up on him. But you liked knowing that you got so deep under his skin that he wouldn’t even ask anyone where his knife went. Wouldn’t even confront you. That should scare you, you know, but you’re high on the achievement.

Soap scrunches his nose, “Well, maybe not. You’re on his shitlist, y’know.”

“Whatever. I’m on his, he’s on mine. That doesn’t matter because he’s busy. Everyone is busy, just do your job.” You take a sip of your cold coffee, pulling a face from the temperature.

“No, I mean, you’re really on his shitlist now. He told me his knife is missing. And I saw that devious smile on your face before it disappeared. Do you even know about that thing? He’s had it since he was kid.”

You shrug, “Don’t know what you’re talking about.” You push away from the table, grabbing your paperwork and mug full of forgotten coffee. Making your way to the kitchen, you dump the remains of your mug into the sink, rinsing it out and washing it thoroughly. The door behind you kicks up, and you sigh.

“Seriously, if you’re going to start up again, let me remind you—” you start, turning towards who you presume is Soap.

The words die in your throat, your mouth a little open in shock. Luckily, your paperwork is on the counter, you would have dropped it otherwise. Ghost stands before you, head tilting in mock question.

“Remind me what?” His gruff voice comes out.

The air is tense, heavy with danger. You’ve been on Ghost’s bad side before. Or so you thought. Nothing can compare to what you’re feeling now, locked the kitchen with the presence of a man who is pissed. You successfully avoided him for two days, until now. Your throat dries and you swallow, the movement caught by him, his eyes dipping to your throat. He takes a daunting step forward, causing you to take one back, pressing into the sink behind you. Shit. Is this how his true enemies feel? A bead of sweat drips down your spine, your heart beating quickly under your breastbone. Dark eyes of his are latched onto yours as he moves closer, caging you in. He isn’t touching you, but you can feel the heat coming off his body in waves. Angry heat. You start to feel panicky. This isn’t the first time he’s cornered you, or tried to use his presence to make you feel uneasy. You used to pride yourself on how well you could handle the pressure from him, that you were never scared of him. This is…different. This has weight, it has fear.

“Where is it?”

His voice hits you like whiplash, your gaze shooting up to his. He simply whispered the question, anger nowhere to be heard in his tone. It makes you feel queasy. Your eyes are searching him, trying to figure out what has got him so calm, if it’s a trick. His posture says anything but. Ghost has never been able to hide anger from his tone, so how is he doing it now? He’s just watching you as you scramble for an answer, patient when he should be anything but.

“Where is what?” You counter, tone steady. You’re clinging onto the training you have to mask your nerves. Maybe he’s doing the same.

Ghost leans forward, face coming close to yours. Christ. You felt panic before, now it’s true fear. His hand comes up and you tense, ready for him to grab you, lash out at you, something. He’s moving slow, like he enjoys seeing the fear rush through you, as you press painfully into the edge of the sink behind you. He likes seeing you squirm as you try to guess what he’s doing, why he’s doing it. His hand reaches up behind you, his body pressed close to yours, eyes never leaving your face. The hand shuts the sink off behind you, the water that’d been running stops with a trickle. He steps back, like the proximity never happened.

“Well, I guess you don’t know. G’luck on your op tonight.” Ghost says, almost cheerfully, turning away and leaving the kitchen.

You blink.

Even without his presence, your heart rate doesn’t understand the danger is gone. A breath shakily leaves you as you slump against the counter. God, he was so close. He’s never been that close to you before. He’s tried to intimidate you before, sure. Chewing on your bottom lip, you think about the knife in the locker. Should you put it back? Could you sneak it back into his room without getting caught? It feels too serious, it feels like you really crossed a line here. Fuck. Then he’d know it was you, probably already does, who else would steal his things? He more than likely has already hatched a plan to get you back. There’s no point in giving it back now.

Good luck on your op tonight.

“Shit.” You mutter, his voice ringing through your mind. He’s never said that before. Praises and encouragement aren’t just given to you by him. It hardens your resolve. Grabbing your paperwork you leave the kitchen, straight to Price’s office.

Lifting a hand, you knock on the closed door in front of you. Your captain’s voice calls an affirmative to come in. You walk into the dimly lit office. Price is sitting at his desk, lazily reading some paperwork.     

“Go on.” He says. Christ, what are you doing here? This is cowardice. This is the lowest Ghost has ever made you go.

“I need more time on the op Soap and I are on. We need more people. It’s insanity to have just the two of us. Soap agrees.” This isn’t a lie. None of it’s a lie, why does it feel like you’re lying to your Captain?

Price’s gaze leaves the paperwork, and he apprehends you silently. He looks surprised, leaning back into his desk chair. “You’ve never asked this before. Must be serious.”

You nod silently. What he doesn’t know is the suspicion you have about Ghost sabotaging the operation. To get back at you. It’s something you hope he hasn’t done, but why would he say that to you? Good luck.

Price lets out a sigh, “This is going to push us back. But fine. If you and Soap think it’s right. I pride myself on listening to my team. Safety first. Keep the paperwork, I’ll work it out. Tomorrow then.”

His tone is dismissive, so you salute before you turn and leave. Fuck, fuck. What is wrong with you? You’re marching down the halls to your room, ready to just mindlessly lay in bed. You have to give Ghost back his knife. This is dangerous, it has the taste of blood in your mouth. He wouldn’t really sabotage your op, right? Right? Whatever the case, you stopped the operation for a night, at least.

Flinging the paperwork haphazardly onto your desk, you sigh out, taking off your attire. If you aren’t doing the op tonight, you’re going to hole yourself in your room and think about what to do. Maybe you’ll give Ghost his knife back tonight, and finally, once and for all call a truce. It’s gone on long enough, hasn’t it? You hate to be the one to give in first, but this is serious. It was only a matter of time until it got out of hand, until one of you decided to mess with the other deeply. You always kind of thought Ghost would be the one to cross the line first, but it seems like you have. Exhaustion falls around you, seeping into your bones. You shrug your pants off and get into something comfier, a large t-shirt you like to sleep in. A nap is calling your name. You’ll deal with consequences of whatever later.

***

It’s dark when you startle awake in your bed. You’re groggy, the blankets around you are twisted at the end of your feet, like you kicked them off during your sleep. Your shirt is pulled up, exposing your bare abdomen and underwear. A groan rushes out of you when you pop yourself up to your elbows, blinking slowly. The nap had hit you hard, you feel out of sorts. Your senses are coming back to your body at a snail pace. You lift yourself up into a sitting position, flinging your legs over the edge of the bed and you fix your shirt back down. Damn, that was…that was a good nap.

Something barely moves in the corner of your eye. You freeze. It came from the small chair in the hidden corner of your room, the one you move to your desk when you need it. When you don’t, it’s where you pile your laundry before you can get around to fold it. Was that good nap making you hallucinate? Are you still dreaming? You swear it’s just your pile of clothes.

Doesn’t matter. You’re scared. You keep frozen in time like you hadn’t seen the movement, left hand inching under your pillow to find your pocketknife. It was hidden there for times like these, times when you felt nervous in your own room. Your hand brushes against nothing, the movement in the corner of your eye starting again. Heartrate spiking, you drop pretenses and brush your hand under your pillow wildly. The pile of clothes at the chair is starting to look like a body. A man.

“Looking for something?”

Shock hits you so hard you flinch, like it was a physical hit. Fuck.

“Eye for an eye, right? Isn’t that how this whole thing started?” Ghost’s low voice crawls over your body. Goosebumps run across your skin.

“Ghost, what the fuck. You scared me.” You breathe out, a bit relieved it was just him. The turning feelings from fear to relief to anger rushes over your mind. Jumping up from the bed, you face him, able to barely see him in the dark of your room.

“What the fuck!” You whisper-shout at him, “What are you doing in here?”

Not the right thing to say, you guess. He stands to his full height, yet again moving you with the mere presence of himself. He’s daunting, towering over you in the dark. You can just see the outline of him, his stature. He looks bigger in the dark like this, in the shadows. Anger is steeling your nerves.

“You were watching me sleep?” You’re still whispering, incredulous. “Wait until the team finds out what a fucking pervert you are!”

A dry chuckle comes from him, humorless. “You’ve no fucking idea.”

You don’t have the time to process what he just said, as he suddenly shoots a hand forward, gripping your jaw. Your hands cling to his forearm, clawing at him. His hands are bare and so are his arms. Shit. This shouldn’t be making you feel hot. Were you still dreaming? He’s pressing into you, making you stumble backwards until the back of your legs hit your bed. He shoves you not too kindly at all. You can see him a bit better now that he’s closer, your eyes now adjusted to the dim light. A scowl moves on your face as you lay back on your hands to glare up at him.

“What. Are you. Doing.” You hiss out at him, pissed. He thinks he can come into your room and just bully you like this? Man handle you as he pleases?

Ghost tosses your pocketknife onto your bed. You get the memo.

“Fucker. I’m going to give it back to you, okay? You didn’t have to go this far. Sabotage my op or creep into my room and piss me off to high hell. Christ, even I wouldn’t do this.”

“Oh, but you did. You creeped into my room.” Is his response. Oh, so he did sabotage your op. He didn’t deny or confirm it. No answer is an answer. Hot anger flares inside you.

You scramble up your bed, going to your knees to get somewhat more of a height than laying down. “Motherfucker, you did that first! You placed that spider on my bed! A spider, Riley!” You jab a finger into his chest, feeling the hot and hard muscle there.

“Yeah? And who started this whole thing, huh?” He asks in his timbre of a voice, the sound doing something devious to you right now. He snatches your hand that was jabbing him, gripping it with his own. You gasp lowly at the feel of his skin on yours. What the hell? You’re supposed to be mad at him. Focus.

“I told you it was an accident! How many times do I have to say, huh? When are you ever going to get it through your thick fucking skull that I didn’t mean to switch my shampoo for yours? It’s not like it made you bald!” You don’t know that - you’re sure it didn’t, but you have no idea what his hair even looks like under his mask.

“You have no idea what it made me.” Ghost growls out lowly, jerking you a bit closer to him with the hand he’s captured. Your free hand hits his shoulder in attempt to get him to let go.

“Tell me then. Tell me what was so bad about using my shampoo one time that you just had to go out of your way to make my life miserable. Tell me.”

The two of you are practically panting. You’re vibrating with anger and…need. The tension between you is crackling, the energy in the room is suffocating. You’re too close to him, dangerously thinking about things you shouldn’t be. Especially about him. Your hand is still caught in his, your other clutching his shirt over his shoulder. When did you do that? You watch him tilt closer, dark eyes on yours.

“It made me hard.”

The reaction you give him isn’t something you expect. It sobers you. It pulls you out of whatever trance he has you in. This isn’t…fuck, this isn’t how you’re supposed to feel towards him. His words shouldn’t affect you like this. It shouldn’t make your core clench, it shouldn’t make you feel slick between your thighs, it shouldn’t make you so aware of how easy it would be right now to lift up his mask and kiss him. It makes you struggle in his hold, trying to get away from him. This can’t happen. You’re supposed to hate him.

Ghost grabs your other hand, keeping you still, gripping both of them in his own, against his chest. You’re squirming and he tugs you forward again to whisper in your ear, mask brushing against your sensitive and on fire skin.

“When I opened the shampoo bottle and, fuck. And smelled you? It made me so fucking hard I had to jerk myself off. It made me so mad that you did that to me. Made my cock ache and pulse. I wanted to find you and fuck you until you couldn’t walk.”

A whimper escapes you as you think about it, Ghost in the shower, naked and soaked with running water down his broad back. Cock in one hand, shampoo in the other. It’s perverted, it’s wrong, but God, it makes you hot. Your thighs clench together to relieve your ache. You try moving again but he isn’t letting you escape him. Not now.

“Wanna know something? I’m not even mad you stole my knife. I’m mad you went into my room. I could fucking smell that shampoo of yours even after you left. I can smell it now.” For emphasis he inhales deeply, a groan coming from deep in his chest that vibrates your hands that are pressed there.

“You’re crazy.” You hiss out lowly to him, tugging against his grip.

“Mm. Maybe. Wanna know something else?” He asks, his tone a bit teasing and he tips his head back a little to watch your reactions. It’s cute, watching you act like this isn’t getting you off.

“W-what?” You squeak, watching him as closely as he’s watching you.

“I’m hard right now. Have been since I snuck in here. Watching you squirm in your sleep, like you knew I was watching, begging me to touch you. You kicked off your covers right after I got in here. Like you were already getting hot for me.”

You shake your head, trying to get his words out of your brain. “No, I wasn’t. It was – it is hot in here.” Deny deny deny. That’s the only way you’ll get out of this. Maybe this is his payback, getting you hot and bothered only to leave you high and dry.

“Really?” His gaze dips down to the front of your shirt. “If it’s so hot, why are your nipples hard like you’re cold? You cold, baby? Or is it something else?”

He’s mocking you.

You grit your teeth in annoyance. “Fuck you. This is messed up, even for you. Is this you getting back at me? You win, okay. I’m done. Good job. Now get out.”

Ghost tilts his head, like he’s studying you in question. You hold his gaze in defiance, not letting him win the staring game at least. He breaks the hold he has on your hands but doesn’t move away from you. He tilts his chin downward as he looks at you through his lashes.

“I’m not joking. This isn’t me trying to get back at you. I’m telling you. I’m telling you that I’ve been obsessed with you ever since Price brought you in. That it makes me so angry and hot that a stupid little girl like you can debase me into this.”

A slap rings into the small space. The noise comes before you even register that you hit him, his masked face turned with the movement. A pained and pleasured noise comes from him before he looks back at you, something in his eyes ablaze.

“I hate you.”

“I hate you too, baby.”

When he says that, nothing holds you back anymore, your hand shooting out to grip the hard length in his pants. He chokes like he wasn’t expecting that, his head dropping to watch you palm him through his jeans. You’re not gentle, and you think he likes that. Likes that you’re touching him with angry abandon.

“Fuck, you really are hard.” You breathe out in wonder, squeezing him and rubbing him roughly. His hips buck into your hand. Your clit throbs painfully and you catch a noise in your throat.

“Gonna let me touch you now?” He asks letting out another pained noise. You nod in response, not bothering to voice it out. His hands waste no time in grabbing the front of your shirt. He isn’t taking it off, just lifting it up to see what’s underneath. He lets out a low curse, balling up the material at your neck with one hand. His fingers swipe across a nipple gently before he’s palming the weight of your breast in his hand, fingers spreading to catch all of you before squeezing hard. It makes you gasp and in response you meanly squeeze his cock back. A chuckle leaves him and he eases the hold he has on you.

He rolls a nipple through his fingers, plucking and pulling. His movements pull a low moan out of you, and he seems pleased, continuing the action. Impatiently, he tugs your shirt up and over you, leaving you just in your panties. Your hands don’t leave from him, feeling it throb under your fingers when he sits back to stare at you. Once he’s got his fill of looking, his rough and calloused hands trail up your sides, petting you heavily in anyway he can. Your head tilts a bit as he feels you up.

“You like me manhandling you, huh? Dirty girl.”

You glare up at him, letting go of his length in response. He doesn’t care, tipping you to lay on your back. The bed beneath you dips to catch your weight. Ghost’s hands trail over your thighs, up and down, catching on the waistband of your underwear. He pulls them down and you help him, glad he doesn’t comment on how your hips push up to help him slip them down. He’s taking you in again, looking up as long as he pleases, his hands trailing anywhere there’s skin. It’s overstimulating having his heavy hands paw at you. He’s hooking his hands under your knees, pushing your legs up and open, spreading you. A sharp breath intakes. Your slick is pooling, leaking, making you and the sheets messy.

“Ask me to eat you out.” He growls lowly, staring at your exposed cunt.

Your brow furrows, irritation coming to you in the fog of your arousal. “No.”

“No?” He counters, like he’s not surprised. He’s dropping to his knees, his hands still keeping your thighs spread. The angle from the bed and him on his knees is the perfect height, lining him up right to your spread cunt. He tugs his mask up, exposing the lower half of his face. You feel your pussy clench around nothing at the sight. Shit. He hovers over your pussy, attention unwavering. He spits on your aching clit. Shit. You might just ask.

“Look at you. You liked that. Don’t think I didn’t see that.” He spits on your sex again and you moan at the feeling of it. It shouldn’t be this hot to have him spit on you. His mouth opens, tongue dipping out, drool leaking from him onto your pussy.

“C’mon. C’mon. Ask. Look, I’m drooling for it baby. Don’t you want me to eat you out?” He laughs down at you, his breath and drool dripping onto your aching already sopping cunt. Your hips tilt up to try and catch his mouth. He keeps the distance between your clit and his mouth, tongue still spilling all over you.

Letting out a frustrated noise, you meekly ask, “Can you?”

“Can I what? Huh?” The tip of his tongue barely brushes against your clit and your hips flinch with the brief contact, grinding against nothing.

“Can you eat me out.” You grind out, hands ready to grab his head and shove him into your needy cunt.

He tsks, “What’s the magic word? Ask nicely.” He brushes against your clit again as he speaks. You let out a noise close to agony.

“Please, Riley. Please eat me out. Can you, please?” It’s desperate, the way you ask, your hands clenching the bed sheets beneath you. You don’t care how it sounds, how fucked out you sound, whiny and needy.

“Good girl.” He breathes out, tongue sliding into your slick from the bottom to the top. His tongue dips into your fluttering entrance up to your throbbing clit. He’s taking his time tasting you, making you grind against his face. “That’s it,” he groans against your cunt, the words vibrating through you, “grind that pussy on my face.”

You cry out, hands now clinging to his head, nails digging into his mask. You hope you’re hurting him somehow through the fabric. You’re pissed he’s making you feel this good, how good it feels to grind your sopping cunt on his tongue, lips, and chin. His hands are holding you down, letting you grind but not letting you squirm away from his mouth. Fuck, he’s going to make you cum, the way he’s devouring your pussy. Your hips tilt up and down, stuttering in the movements, your panting getting choppier, legs shaking. You feel him groan against you, knowing how close you are, continuing with his sucking, licking, tasting. He’s slurping up your pussy, latching onto your clit painfully as you cry out, back arching up as your cunt contracts painfully around nothing. Ghost doesn’t stop, licking up your arousal, your cum, everything that he can take. Letting out a satisfied noise he releases you from his mouth before you become too overstimulated. His face is wet as he stares up at your heaving form. He quickly reaches out and slaps your sensitive pussy. You squeal, legs closing tightly as you scramble away from him.

“What the fuck?!”

The question is ignored as he smiles darkly at you, standing to his full height. “Knew you’d be messy.” He groans, a bit to himself as he strokes himself through his pants. Your eyes track the movements, thighs squeezing together again.

“Fuck you,” you spit the words out at him, shooting daggers.

“You want to? Okay baby, all you had to do was say so. You didn’t have to keep playing your little games. I would’ve let you whenever you wanted.” He laughs at the look you give him, unzipping the front of his pants. Your response dies as you watch the motion. He pulls his cock out, stroking it lightly as you watch. He’s letting you take him in. Letting you think about the size and girth of him. Your gaze shoots back up to him, ready to tell him no. Hell no. That thing is not getting anywhere near you. It’ll break you in half. A smirk splays on his lips, like he knows exactly what you’re thinking. He doesn’t wait for you to voice your concerns, he’s dipping to the bed, placing his body over yours, caging you in with his weight.

“Let me kiss you.” He mutters down, his eyes catching yours before dipping to your parted and panting mouth.

You answer him with taking his bottom lip in between your teeth. You bite him meanly, wanting to get a reaction out of him. He laughs breathlessly, jutting his cock against your wet pussy. It makes you moan, releasing the biting hold you had on him. It lets him press his mouth against yours, sucking your lips against him. You can taste yourself on his mouth and you whine, hands running up his broad and muscled back to his face. You tilt his head, deepening the kiss. When his tongue hits yours, your hips buck up against his cock, grinding his length against you. He answers with a moan into your mouth, sucking on your tongue. You feel dizzy at the taste and feel of him.

He pulls back from your lips slightly, rolling his hips, letting you grind against his length, soaking it with yourself. “Taste so fucking good.” His head dips to your throat, his tongue blazing a hot trail up to your jaw. His mouth is nipping, tasting, pulling sounds out of you that are pathetic as you press your clit against his throbbing length. The weight of him is on you, the heat of him, it’s making you lose your mind. If you haven’t already.

“Every time you get on my fucking nerves, I think of this. Making you squirm and cry for me.”

“Shut up.” You moan out, hips tilting up at his words. You’re trying to catch the tip of him now, ready for him to fill you up. He’s not letting you, knowing exactly what you’re trying to do. Trying to get the tip of him in you so he’ll fuck you. He’s going to make you work harder for it.

“Why? You get wetter every time I say something.” He laughs dryly, “See? You just fucking keep creaming on my cock. Dirty messy girl. You want me to fuck you. Is that it? Want my cock to stretch you out?”

Your nails dig into his back through his shirt, and he groans, cock jumping between the two of you, making you both moan at the feel of it.

“Yeah. Mark me up. Make me bleed.” His voice is low and growly. He leaves your embrace to shuck his shirt off, coming back down to press you against the mattress. He catches your throat in his teeth, biting and sucking. Crying out, your nails drag down his bare back. Bastard. He hurt you on purpose, so you’d do exactly what he wanted you to. He eases the bite with his tongue, swirling and tasting.

“I h-hate you,” you hiccup, rolling your pussy against him, “just fuck me already.”

Ghost makes a noncommittal ‘hmm’ in the back of his throat as he trails kisses on your collarbones. He’s never nice and gentle for too long, delivering a mean bite without soothing the pain afterwards. You make a keening noise and thump a hand on his shoulder in frustration. He finds that pretty funny, huffing a breathless laugh against your skin as he continues is his assault, obviously in no hurry. He licks a slow and warm line across your breasts. Angry at his carelessness, at his lazy touching and licking, you lean up and catch his collarbone in your mouth. Your teeth sink down harshly.

“Fuck.” He growls out, cock thrusting against you as the taste of blood coats your lips. Of course, he’d get off on the pain. Of course, he’d think it’s the hottest thing in the world, pissing you off –

You release him with a cry, his heavy cock pressing into you now. Your heels catch underneath you, ready to scramble out from underneath him. You see the mark you made on him, the press of your teeth on his skin, the crescents already bruised. He catches you, gripping your hips as he lets out a slew of curse words as he keeps moving forward into you, mingling with your pained noises. It’s thick. So painfully thick, your wetness doing nothing to prepare you for how big his damn dick is. You pant and squeeze your eyes shut, trying to adjust to his size. Your hands scramble up to his biceps, your body trying to take him, push him away or keep him still, you’re not sure. Ghost knocks your feet out from beneath you, grabbing the back of your knees to press them up close to your chest. He’s crushing you and you let out a short angry noise as he presses closer, catching your lips with his. He sucks a kiss, dodging your still biting teeth. He keeps pressing you until he’s got you in a mating press, cock bottoming your vision fades for a moment, you let out a long and anguished noise.

He isn’t moving, he’s so still besides his panting above you, cock twitching in you. His hands flex around the hold he has on your legs, his weight pinning you down completely. He’s deep, deeper than anyone has been, filling you up more than you ever thought possible. You nod at him frantically as you moan, thinking that’ll get him to start moving, but he merely laughs down at you.

“Bratty little thing. You just needed a cock filling you up, huh? Poor girl. Oh.” He chuckles sardonically, “I can feel how much you like me talking to you. Keep clenching around me like that baby and I’m going to start thinking you’re a dirty little slut.”

“Fuck. Oh, fuck you.” You hiss out through your bared teeth, nails pressing into his forearms. Even with him still pissing you off, your pussy is clinging to him, keeping him deep and twitching around him as you feel him throb. Ghost doesn’t move his hips. One of his big hands press down the back of your thigh, leaving a fired path in its wake, stopping when his thumb comes around and press hard against your clit. He keeps the pad of his thumb dormant but presses like he’s hitting a button. Your hips twitch, not able to move or grind against him in the way he has you pinned. The pressure he’s keep makes you whine, a little in pain and beyond frustrated. All he’s done is teased you. Taking a deep breath, you gather yourself before casting your gaze on him.

“Y’know what I think? I think you don’t know how to fuck me right. I think you’re a coward, Ghost, waiting until I was asleep to come in here and have your way with me. I think you got a big thick dick and don’t know how to use it.” You sneer at him, keeping yourself dreadfully still under his cock. You don’t want to move in fear of his reaction.

He freezes, staring down at you. You can’t read him at all. He doesn’t need the mask to hide his emotions or feelings. He’s a master at this, you can tell. That spike of fear from earlier comes back. The one where he scared you in the kitchen with his presence alone. He leans slowly into you, hovering his face right above yours. His eyes are burning. He’s still, he’s so still, until his thumb starts to rub tight pressing circles around your clit. You catch a cry in your mouth, just barely, the noise turning into a higher pitched whine.

“Nice try, sweetheart. Just for that, you’ll come around my big thick dick,” he mocks your tone and words, “without me even moving. You can beg, but it’s not going to happen.”

The words he delivers darkly to you and the circles he’s pressing has you tossing your head back, hips rocking, trying to get away from the feeling. The leg that isn’t caught up in his hand kicks out, trying to catch anything solid. He’s laughing again, the noise is going to haunt you in your sleep for the rest of your life. You’re right there, you’re right there, pussy clutching around his cock painfully. A noise comes from your throat, your head tilting back up as your entire body seizes upwards, right there, you’re right there.

Ghost rips his hand away from you.

“I don’t think you deserve to come on my cock.”

You let out a pained cry, body slumping back into the bed, heart rate erratic. You were so close, cunt about to milk the shit out of the length inside you. You brave a look up at the man and immediately regret it. He’s scary like this, with you at his mercy. You watch his thumb go back to your clit. Your breath catches and he continues like he never stopped. Your body picks up right back the edge, and you mewl out, ready for him to make you let go. Let go. Let go. Right there.

He stops.

Crying out in frustration again, you slap a hand onto his chest in anger. This time he doesn’t find it funny. He lets go of your leg, gripping both hands in a single one of his. The notion of that strikes something in you. His hands are big enough to hold the two of yours. Why did you ever think you could get a one up on this man? Your hips are still tilted up, his cock keeping your lower half pinned to your mattress. You can squirm a bit better, and squirm you do. You freeze, though, when his free hand is moving back to clit, his thumb yet again torturing you. He keeps at it. Bringing you right to the edge only to back away. Right there. He stops. Right there. He stops.

Time ends up blurring together. You can barely keep your eyes open. You have no idea if it’s been five minutes or fifty. Your pussy is leaking, it’s aching painfully, your clit is so sensitive, Ghosts merely has to brush his thumb against it to bring you to the edge. He has to stop touching you for longer periods of time in between so you don’t cum immediately. He’s since let your hands ago, liking the way you clutch at him, the way you try to touch yourself so that he can knock your hands away, the way you shakily brush your fingers over his chest. He’s lost the rest of his clothes besides his soft balaclava, you’re not sure when. You no longer have the energy or brain to be mean. You tried pinching him, slapping him, biting him, anything to get him to let you cum. He has to be in pain with you, feeling how your pussy weeps and clenches around him. Your pleasure isn’t the only thing he’s denying. He’s denying his, just to see you unravel into something else under him.

Unravel you do.

By the millionth -it’s got to be the millionth- time he brushes your clit and denies you, you feel hot tears spill down your cheeks. Anger had long left you, but it’s here again. You’ll do it. You’ll beg.

“Stop! Simon, please! Please fuck, I swear to God, please. Fuck me and fuck me right, please –”

That’s as far as you get before he’s surging his hips into yours, patience worn thin. It’s all he needed to hear. Needed to hear how desperate and whiny you’d get for him, beg him to give it to you the way you need. He doesn’t care if it was delivered with anger, doesn’t care that he had to torture you to get it out. You begged him. Begged him to fuck you. You’re giving him high pitched and breathy uh uh uh’s with his erratic thrusts, music to his fucking ears.

You choke on a broken mewl, pussy flaring hot as you cum hard. You cum like you’ve never before. You feel like you leave your body as you seize up, cunt milking around Simon’s cock. He lets out a curse as he feels you, fucking you through it. Your back arches, and you’re still cumming, you’re still clutching him against you, your body worried that at any moment he’s going to stop. The orgasm rips through you like it’s destroying and rewriting every molecule in your body. A rasp leaves you by the end of it, overstimulated as Ghost keeps going. No. Oh no, he's not going to stop.

Your hands scramble to his hips, like that’ll stop him from fucking and bucking into you with oblivion. “Si—” You manage to choke out, tears spilling from your eyes again.

“Thought you wanted me to fuck you? Thought you begged for it?” He laughs, a bit winded, hands digging into your skin. God, he’s so mean, he knows it. Loves looking at how destroyed he makes you feel. He presses down into you, chest against yours as he fucks you. He bites your ear before whispering into it. “I want to ruin you. I want you to feel how ruined you’ve made me after all this time, how every time you snapped back at me, how – fuck- how every time you did shit to piss me off, every time you tried to make a joke out of me. How it’s made me feel. Feel what the fuck you’ve done to me.”

He turns your head to pull you into a kiss, a sloppy and wet kiss that leaves you breathless. With his words and spit of hate, the kiss feels gentle. It feels devastating in way you know nothing will ever compare to this kiss. Nothing will ever compare to the way he’s ruining you from the inside out, his arms wrapping around you to keep him close, the groans and moans he’s giving you as your nails dig into his skin, as your teeth mark him. You’re feeling what you’ve done to him. A broken sound leaves you as you feel yourself close again, his cock hitting just the right spot in you. It’s heavy a dragging through you, making you sob against his mouth. You’re going to feel him for days. Maybe even next week.

All you can think of is him. His cock sinking in deep, barely coming out to press harder into you. The way he tastes as you kiss him, feeling his hands grip anywhere he can touch you while he fucks you open. He’s curling into you, fucking so so deep that you swear you can see stars. He’s consuming you, ruining you just like he said. It’s brutal, but it’s sweet, his kiss subduing you into something placid, somewhere intimate. It’s messy and wet, it’s him. It’s always been him. The thought picks you up and carries you to the throes of your orgasm, hot plasma coursing your veins as your hip pick up and stutter down onto him.

“I’m gonna, ohhhh, I’m gonna—” you hiccup out, arms around his neck to keep him close. You’re licking his lips as you moan, legs coming around his waist to lock around there too.

“Fuck. Fuck. Give it to me. Give it to me, pretty girl.” He’s growling so lowly you hardly hear him as your eyes cross.

You shake your head, frantically trying to hold sane before you leave your body in another debilitating orgasm, “Come in me, Simon, please. Please. I need to feel it. Let me feel what I’ve done to you. I need it I need it.” You’re babbling, a bit nonsensical, clutching onto him so he doesn’t leave you. He’s not going to leave you. He’d never leave you.

Simon drops his head with a moan akin to a whimper before sinking his teeth into your shoulder. The pain sends you the edge, his cock surging into you with urgency. It’s so hot, filling you up, as he continues to fuck his cum deep into you. It drags it out for both of you, your bodies not willing to just give up the feeling. He’s pressed so deep into you; you feel like you’re never getting him out. His hips coming to a stuttering stop, his cock still throbbing as the last waves of it roll through you.

You’re both covered in sweat, cum, spit, and who knows else what, but it feels good. It feels good having him collapse on top of you, having his weight on you like a comforting blanket. Your hands trail lazily across his shoulder blades, feeling the irritated and raised ridges of the marks your nails sliced through him. He practically purrs, nuzzling his face into your neck, inhaling you in.

“I still hate you.” You whisper to him, but your hands can’t get enough of him, feeling him up. Your mouth can’t get enough of him as you plant kisses anywhere you can reach. You feel him smile into your neck.

“I hate you too, baby.”

[clairewritesjjkxreader]

Sukuna’s Wife and Yuuji’s Onee-chan (Sukuna x Reincarnated!Y/N) scenario: Heian era childhood

Request by @serendipitylovescat

A/N: This is a possible origin story for Sukuna and Y/N in this onee-chan au, but I haven’t made up my mind as to how the two met and what their lives were like in the early days. Much like with the Joker’s multiple choice past, it’s the mystery that keeps on giving. Anyway, HAPPY NEW YEAR, EVERYONE.

Trigger warning: child abuse, bullying, violence, swearing

Ryomen Sukuna. Two-faced Sukuna. Bastard. Murderer. Halfling. Demon.

Normally, parents give extra thought when naming their children. For a lot of boys, they’re usually named based on desired traits like “strong” or “powerful.” But for this son, his father snidely called him “two-faced” and the name stuck. 

Like every baby when they are born, Sukuna arrived in this world covered in blood and weeping. The other villagers could only think of the worst outcome for his mother. After all, so many young wives who were healthier than she died during labor, so it was only normal to expect the stick-thin woman to pass on. 

But for better or worse, she survived. 

A smooth delivery would normally be a thing of celebration, a living mother and her plump baby were supposed to be a blessing. For Sukuna’s parents, such a thing was a curse. 

Born with four arms and four eyes and suspiciously symmetrical birthmarks, such an abomination could only be a curse. 

His father suspected his wife of seducing a yōkai, he became a drunk and beat his wife daily, unwilling to even look at the thing that she claimed to be his own son. The other villagers believed that he ate his twin inside their mother and was punished by the gods. 

No one knew the truth, not even the child himself. 

One thing they could all agree on was this: Sukuna was a monster. 

He was a monster who pushed his father into doing bad things. He was a monster who caused his mother shame and suffering, as she loved to remind him every single day.

Sukuna leaned on the tree, watching as the other kids in their little village played tag. His stomach growled but he could only ignore it. If he returned home to eat, his mother would yell at him. He only ate when she was asleep or beaten into unconsciousness by his father.

“Found you.” 

Sukuna looked up and beamed. That’s right, everyone except one person hated him.

Unlike him, you were normal as far as his eyes could see, but you didn’t like staying in your house and you didn’t talk about your family. Neither of you liked anything or anyone in this village, only each other. 

“Onigiri with fatty tuna I caught this morning,” you said, sitting next to him. 

Sukuna voraciously bit into the rice and fish, savoring every moment with gratitude. “You’re the best cook I know.”

“Tell me if you want some tea. I managed to sneak some out.”

“Thanks–” his grin faded when he spotted familiar black and blue spots on your inner arm. They were the same bruises his mother had when she tried to block her husband’s hands.

“Who did this?” He asked, his three free hands grabbing your wrist.

“Ryo-chan,” you said his nickname–you were the only one who was never afraid of saying his name–“you’re hurting me.”

“S-sorry.” He pulled away two hands and softened the grip on the remaining one. He gently rotated your arm to get a better look. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” You grinned. “I know you didn’t mean to.”

“Did you—”

“Hey, Ryo-chan…” You shook off his grasp, causing him to frown, but you quickly intertwined your fingers together, making him blush. “If I told you I plan to run away, will you come with me?”

He almost dropped the onigiri. 

Your smile became sad. “I… You’re the only one I will ever miss. I don’t like this place.”

He put his remaining hands over your connected fingers and he blurted out, “Yes!”

You blinked, wide-eyed.

He cleared his throat and looked away. “I-I mean, yes, let’s go.”

Your face brightened and he smiled back. 

That’s right. Even if this damned village burned to the ground, as long as your hand never let go of his then nothing else mattered.

Additional headcanons for this scenario:

Sukuna’s dad never hit him because deep inside the man was actually afraid. So he took out his frustrations on his wife, who in turn, blames her misfortune on her son. 

Speaking of Sukuna’s mother, she was a vain beauty, the most gorgeous in their village during her prime, and was distraught when her appearance faded due to malnutrition during her pregnancy. The entire time, she silently prayed that the baby would die early so she could recover quickly. So in addition to her husband’s mistreatment of her, the loss of her looks has made her resent her son. 

The other village kids didn’t like Sukuna because he gave off a “disgusting energy” (or “bad vibes” as today’s lingo would call it). Some avoided him but others went out of their way to gang up on him, beating him up and stealing whatever he carried, be it food or toys from you.  

Sukuna didn’t fight back because he truly believed that he deserved every bad thing that happened to him. That being said, he allowed himself one selfish choice and accepted your company, enjoying your friendship. The only warmth in his otherwise dead existence.

The first time Sukuna resorted to violence was…it was a few days after your proposal. It was a few minutes before day break and he caught the other kids holding your head down a nearby pond. He didn’t know what he did, only what happened after: you were crying into his chest, hugging and thanking him despite the blood all over him. 

After washing himself, he walked you home, hair and clothes still wet from the pond, your mother was the first person to see you. Instead of concern or worry, she slapped you across the face in front of everyone before dragging you away by the hair.

Because it was your mother, he could only watch on, until your eyes met and you whimpered his name.

That night, a little village with no more than fifty people, burned to the ground as two children watched hand in hand. 

A/N: Speaking of multiple choice past; in JJK (and sadly, even in real life parts of the world), twins are considered bad luck. What if Sukuna didn’t consume his twin in utero and they both survived? What if both fell for Y/N? What if the current Sukuna killed and ate his own brother because he wanted to, in his own sick way, combine himself and his twin into one being so that Y/N wouldn’t have to choose?? Hot damn. The perfect yandere love triangle. But what a pain that would be to write without illustration LOLOLOL.

@shadowywizardarcade @hannya-exists @nineooooo @lilachaeyo @pumpkindudeishere @jessbeinme15 @fluffy-koalala @cringeycookies @frogzxch @isimpfordanielpark @marvelsgirl4ever @sanzusmom @sheccidoscar @alastorhazbin @satosuguswife @lumanii @leahlovesreading @blackstaw @boba–12

[itsmealaiah]

Hiii I'm a huge fan of ur works ❤️❤️❤️

I was wondering could u make a 2023 to 2024 tom and bill x reader the used to all be best friends but when tom got married hidei klum tells tom to cut reader off because she's jealous of her now so he did making reader go mia and hide from social media now in 2024 they rekindle and if u can could it be smut ♥️♥️♥️♥️

Once again I'm a huge fan

aww ❤️

Missing some action

tags/ warnings: author being a forgetful bitch and not putting bill in here, cheating/ adultery, multiple rounds of smut, getting caught in the act

Not proofread at all!

MDNI ⚠️ don't like don't read or leave hate

Disclaimer: nothing against heidi yall

pairing: tom x fem

may and will not be used in any other capacity besides this blog, do not translate, copy and paste, or claim as your own. we've had many issues with this in the past three months.

It had been four long years since the last time I had seen Tom Kaulitz. He used to be my best friend, the one person who understood me like no other. But then he married Heidi Klum, and everything changed. She grew jealous of our friendship, of the time we spent together, of the closeness we shared. So, she demanded that Tom choose between her and me. Of course, he chose her. I wasn't surprised, but it still hurt. A lot.

She made it clear that she didn't want me in their lives anymore, and Tom seemed to agree. I was heartbroken, but I had no choice but to leave them alone. I went off grid, deleted all my social media accounts, and tried to move on with my life. I focused on my career, my friends, and family. Time passed, and the pain eased a little, but it never truly went away.

Four years later, I received an invitation to Tom and Heidi's anniversary party. I didn't want to go, but my mom insisted. "You need to face your past and move on, sweetheart," she said, handing me the crumpled piece of paper with the address on it. As I got dressed for the event, I couldn't help but feel a mixture of anticipation and dread. What if Tom didn't even want to see me after all this time?

When I arrived at the party, I immediately felt out of place. The atmosphere was so different from the ones we used to share. The guests were all dressed to the nines, sipping expensive champagne, and laughing too loudly. I searched the crowd for Tom, hoping to avoid him for as long as possible. But then, I heard a familiar voice calling my name.

It was him. Tom looked different somehow, more grown up and self-assured. He was still as handsome as ever, with those piercing brown eyes that used to make my heart race. He was standing there with Heidi at his side, her arm looped through his, a smug smile playing on her lips. They both looked so happy together.

I hesitated for a moment, my heart thudding in my chest. Should I go over and say hello? Or should I just turn around and walk away? Before I could make a decision, Tom broke away from Heidi and walked towards me. His steps were slow and deliberate, and I couldn't help but feel a pang of nostalgia as I remembered the countless times we used to run into each other's arms and hug.

When he finally reached me, he took my hands in his and smiled warmly. "It's good to see you, y/n. I've missed you." His voice was soft and sincere, and it sent a shiver down my spine. "I'm sorry for the way things ended between us. I never meant for it to happen that way." He looked at me with those eyes, and it was like he was seeing right through me.

"It's okay, Tom. I understand." I forced a smile, trying to hide the ache in my heart. "It's good to see you too." I glanced around, feeling the need to break the awkward silence. "Heidi is looking lovely tonight."

He chuckled softly. "She is, isn't she? Well, come on. Let me introduce you to some people." He took my hand and led me through the crowd. As we walked, I couldn't help but notice how his touch sent tingles up my spine, how his presence still made my heart skip a beat.

"So, what have you been up to?" he asked, his voice low and intimate. "How's work? How's your family?" I told him about my latest project, my parents, my sister. He listened attentively, nodding along, occasionally asking questions. It felt so natural, like we were picking up right where we left off.

"I've been meaning to ask you," I said, hesitating for a moment. "How are things with you and Heidi?"

He smiled, but there was a sadness in his eyes. "We're doing well, I suppose. But things aren't always as perfect as they seem." He looked away, lost in thought. "I can't help but wonder sometimes what might have been, you know?"

I nodded, my heart aching for him. I knew exactly what he meant. But then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw Heidi glaring at us from across the room. Her expression was a mixture of anger and jealousy, and it made me feel guilty all over again.

"Well," I said, trying to change the subject. "I should probably find my mom and thank her for bringing me here. It was nice seeing you, Tom." I reached up and kissed his cheek, feeling his skin warm beneath my lips.

He took my hand in his and gave it a squeeze. "Thank you for coming, y/n. I'm glad we could talk. Maybe we could do this again, when Heidi's not around." His voice was barely a whisper, but I could tell he meant it.

As I made my way through the crowd, I couldn't help but think about our conversation. Despite being married to Heidi, there was still a spark between us. A part of me wondered if we could ever find our way back to each other. But then again, Heidi was his wife, and they seemed happy enough together.

A few weeks passed, and I received an unexpected invitation from Tom. He wanted me to come over while Heidi was away on business. I hesitated for a moment, wondering if it was a good idea. After all, we had both moved on with our lives. But something about his words, the way he'd looked at me that night at the party, made me feel like I couldn't say no.

When the day finally arrived, I found myself nervously pacing in front of my mirror, trying to decide what to wear. I wanted to look nice, but not too nice. After all, I didn't want Tom to get the wrong idea. I eventually settled on a casual blouse and a pair of comfortable jeans. I didn't want to seem desperate or overeager, but I also didn't want to appear indifferent. It was a delicate balancing act.

As I drove to his house, my stomach was in knots. What would we talk about? Would we end up arguing about Heidi? Or would we be able to find some common ground, some semblance of the connection we'd once shared? I didn't know the answers to these questions, but I felt compelled to find out.

When I arrived at Tom's house, I found him sitting on the patio, a glass of wine in hand. He looked up as I approached, and the smile that spread across his face warmed me to my core. He stood, taking my hand in his, and pulled me into a gentle embrace. The touch of his skin against mine sent shivers down my spine, and for a moment, it felt like no time had passed at all.

"You look beautiful," he whispered into my ear. "Just like you did that night at the party." He let go of me, stepping back to take in my appearance.

"Well, thank you," I replied, feeling my cheeks flush. "You don't look so bad yourself." I gestured toward the chair opposite him. "Can I sit?"

He nodded, motioning for me to sit down. "Please, make yourself comfortable." As he sat back down across from me, I couldn't help but notice the slight awkwardness between us. We both seemed to be searching for something to say, something to break the silence.

"So," I began, trying to find my footing. "How have you been? How's the band?"

He smiled, shrugging nonchalantly. "Oh, you know, same old, same old. Heidi's been busy with her show, so I've been taking care of things at home. It's actually been kind of nice, having some time to myself. We've been doing alright, you know?" His eyes met mine, and there was a question in them. A question that I couldn't quite answer.

The silence that fell between us was thick, almost palpable. I could feel my cheeks flush as I wondered what he was thinking. Had I read too much into his words at the party? Was he truly happy with Heidi, or was there still a part of him that longed for something more? I wanted to believe the latter, but I couldn't shake the feeling that I was just fooling myself.

As if sensing my discomfort, Tom reached out, taking my hand in his. His skin was warm against mine, sending shivers up my spine. "I'm glad you came over tonight," he said softly. "It's been… difficult, you know? Being so close to you, but not being able to…" His voice trailed off, his gaze searching mine for some sign of understanding.

I wanted to reassure him, to tell him that I felt the same way. That the connection we'd shared wasn't something that could be so easily forgotten. But instead, I found myself leaning in closer, pressing my lips against his. The kiss was slow, gentle at first, but as it deepened, so did the passion between us. His hand moved up my thigh, and I gasped against his mouth.

The sound seemed to fuel his desire, and he pulled me closer, his other hand tangled in my hair. I could feel the heat of his body pressed against mine, and it sent a shiver through me. The air around us seemed to crackle with anticipation, and I knew we were both thinking the same thing. We needed this. We needed each other.

With a growl, he lifted me up onto his arms. I gasped as I felt his lips brush against my neck, and then lower, sucking gently on the skin there. His touch sent shivers down my spine, and my heart raced in my chest. As if it were a reflex, my hands found their way under his shirt, tracing the hard planes of his stomach before moving higher, to cup his firm chest. He moaned into the kiss, pressing me harder against him.

He carried me toward the bedroom, kicking the bedroom door open with his foot. I giggled, feeling giddy with desire as he threw me onto the bed. My heart hammered in my chest as he stripped off his shirt, revealing his toned, muscular chest. He crawled on top of me, his weight pressing me into the mattress. His lips found mine again, and he kissed me hungrily, his tongue thrusting deep into my mouth.

His hands moved lower, tugging at my clothes, desperate to feel my skin against his. In a frenzy of need, he ripped my blouse open, sending buttons flying across the room. I arched my back, offering him easier access, as he pulled my bra free, releasing my breasts from their confines. He groaned, his hot breath fanning across my nipples, and then lowered his head, taking one of them into his mouth. I cried out, my hips bucking off the bed as he sucked and teased.

My own hands wandered over his body, exploring the defined muscles of his back and shoulders. I reached down between us, tugging at his belt, unfastening his pants. His erection sprang free, and I reached out, wrapping my hand around it, feeling the heat and the strength in my palm. He groaned again, arching his back into my touch.

"God, you're so fucking beautiful," he breathed against my skin. "I've missed this." He rolled onto his side, pressing his body against mine. His lips found my earlobe, and he nipped at it gently before moving lower, kissing his way down my neck and across my collarbone. I gasped, feeling his hot breath on my skin, as he pushed two fingers into me, slowly and deliberately. I cried out, my hips arching off the bed in response to the intrusion.

He smiled against my skin, his fingers moving deeper, curling inside me. His other hand found its way up, cupping my breast, his thumb rubbing roughly over my nipple. I mewled, feeling the delicious ache building inside me. I wanted more, and I knew he could give it to me. I reached down between us, wrapping my hand around his erection, stroking him in time with his movements inside me. His breath hitched, his fingers thrusting deeper, faster.

The bed creaked beneath us as he rolled us over, me now on top. His eyes met mine, and for a moment, there was a flicker of uncertainty there. But then it was gone, replaced by a fierce determination that only served to fuel my own desire. His hands moved to my hips, and he urged me down onto him, his erection pressing against my entrance.

I groaned, the sensation sending a wave of pleasure through me. I lowered myself further, feeling the head of his cock nudge against my opening. With a growl, he thrust upward, piercing me with his length. I cried out, my hips rocking in a frenzy off the bed as he filled me completely. His hands moved to my shoulders, holding me in place as he began to move, his body sliding against mine in a rhythm that was both familiar and exhilarating.

He kissed me roughly, his tongue thrusting deep into my mouth, as if he couldn't get close enough. His hips rose and fell, each thrust driving him deeper inside me. I arched my back, meeting his movements with equal fervor, my nails digging into his shoulders. The sound of our breaths and skin slapping together filled the room, drowning out everything else.

His pace quickened, and I felt myself on the edge of orgasm. I tightened my grip on him, urging him on, begging for more. With a growl, he pulled out of me and rolled me onto my stomach. I felt his hot breath on my neck as he spanked my ass, once, twice. The stinging sensation only served to heighten my arousal, and I moaned loudly.

His fingers pressed against me, slipping easily inside. He thrust them deep, curling them in a way that sent waves of pleasure through me. "That's it," he groaned, his voice rough with desire. "Give it all to me." His other hand moved to my breast, tweaking my nipple roughly as he continued to pump his fingers inside me.

I arched my back, moaning in ecstasy as I felt him fill me, felt the strength and heat of his body against mine. I reached down between us, taking his erection in my hand, stroking it in time with his movements inside me. He growled, thrusting harder, deeper, as if he couldn't get close enough.

His fingers moved to my clit, circling it expertly, and I cried out, my hips bucking wildly against his touch. The sensation was overwhelming, exquisite, and I felt myself on the brink of orgasm. He smiled against my neck, his lips moving to my ear. "That's it, baby. Let it go."

With a final thrust, he buried himself inside me, his body trembling as he came, his hot seed spilling into me. I felt my own orgasm crash over me, waves of pleasure washing through my body as I cried out his name. Our sweat-slicked bodies moved together in perfect rhythm, each breath, each moan, echoing in the room.

Finally, he collapsed on top of me, his weight pressing me into the mattress. I could feel his heart racing against my back, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. I wrapped my legs around him, holding him close, savoring the feel of his skin against mine.

"God, y/n," he murmured into my hair. "I didn't think you'd be so… so responsive." His hips rocked slowly against mine, and I felt him grow harder inside me. It was as if he hadn't just filled me to the brim with his seed, as if he were still hungry for more.

His hands moved up my sides, cupping my breasts. He rolled my nipples between his thumbs and forefingers, sending a shiver through my entire body. I arched my back, pressing myself deeper into his touch. "Please," I whispered, my voice barely audible. "Don't stop."

He smiled against my skin and began to move faster, harder. His breath came in ragged gasps, and I could feel his muscles tense beneath my fingers. I wrapped my legs around his waist, feeling the strength and power of his body as he drove into me. He was relentless, driving me higher and higher with each thrust.

My head tilted back, and I let out a moan of pure pleasure as he found my sweet spot. His name fell from my lips in a plea, a demand. He answered with a growl, his hips slamming against mine in a frenzy. I felt my own orgasm building, growing more intense with each passing second.

With one final thrust, he buried himself deep inside me, his body shuddering as he came. My orgasm crashed over me in a wave of bliss, and I cried out his name, my body arching off the bed as my pleasure consumed me.

He collapsed on top of me, his weight pressing me into the mattress, his breath coming in ragged gasps. For a moment, we lay entwined, his heart racing against my back, our sweat-slicked skin sticking together. It was as if time had stopped, as if the world outside this room didn't exist.

He rolled to his side, propping himself up on one elbow to look down at me. His eyes roamed over my flushed face and heated skin, and I felt a shiver run down my spine. "Well," he said with a grin, "I guess I'm not the only one who needed this."

I reached up, tracing a finger along his jawline. "No, I don't think you are," I replied, my voice still breathless from our passion. "But I don't regret it. Not for a second."

He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to my lips. "Good," he whispered. "Because I think… I think we might need to do this again." His hand moved down between my legs, and I gasped as his fingers found their way back to my swollen, sensitive flesh.

His fingers moved over me in a familiar rhythm, and I arched my back, pressing myself against his touch. The pleasure coursing through my body was almost overwhelming, and I could feel my orgasm building once more. "Oh, God, yes," I moaned, my hips moving in time with his hand.

Tom watched me intently, his eyes dark with desire. "You're so beautiful," he murmured, his voice rough with emotion. He leaned in, capturing my lips with his, his tongue tracing their shape. I could feel the strength of him pressed against me, his heart racing wildly beneath my fingertips. Heat spread through my body like a wildfire, and with each thrust, he drove deeper inside me, claiming me in a way that felt both possessive and tender.

"what the actual fuck" I looked up, my eyes barely opening.

Heidi

[thcfountain]

I recieved 2 requests for enemies to lovers between Matt and Reader.

tags: enemies to lovers, mentions of male masturbation, implied degradation kink.

word count: 2,029

banner cred. Join my tag list.

tag list: @to-be-written @th4t-em0-k1d @cheyyyr @somewhere-diamond @ravieisunhinged @blackveilomens @sprokat @jilliemiw86 @cookiesupplier @emmmm127 @thatchickwiththecamera

A/N: Hey guys, sorry about the somewhat hiatus that happened from me without warning. I don't have an excuse for vanishing really, so I'm sorry and please know that I'm working on your requests now!

“I do not need an assistant,” came the same complaint that Matt had already given the rest of the band multiple times over the course of the last week.

Unfortunately, Matt did need an assistant, so much so that he had been complaining about it for months. The bigger the band got, the more responsibilities hit his plate and the less time he had to work on each responsibility, let alone have time for the occasional problem that occurred. He was stretched thin and the band knew it. Noah had told Matt not to worry, that he would find Matt the perfect assistant and that had been that.

At least until Noah had announced the new hire.

There weren't many people in Virginia that Noah kept in touch with, outside of Ruffilo's family and her. A childhood friend of Noah and Nicholas who was still close enough to both of them that Matt and the band and crew had met her and hung out with her on a multitude of occasions over the years.

Matt knew Noah had a soft spot for y/n - they had met in high school and back then she had been just as enamored with the music industry as Noah and from what Matt knew, she had doubled as photographer and occasional manager for Noah's high school band. (Of course she was also a high school student, so Matt had been put under the impression that Noah and his ex bandmates had paid her in drinks or weed or dinner here and there.) 

She had gone on to work as a tour manager for a few small bands here and there since then and maybe Matt would have been more impressed if he didn't hate her.

“She's extremely professional, you could do a lot worse,” Noah countered Matt's complaint in a tone that said he wasn't going to have this argument again.

Matt persisted, he wasn't the hater king for nothing after all, “she's obnoxious, she's not as good as you think she is, she'll slow me down or get in the way,” he listed off his reasons.

So called ‘boba’ eyes roll as Noah doesn't even make an attempt at hiding his own annoyance towards Matt's complaints. “I don't know what your issue with her is,” he says, pointing a finger in Matt's direction, “but you need to get over it. The decision is made and I'm not going to listen to you hate on my friend the entire time she's under our employment. Which means suck it up.”

And that was that. Case closed, at least in Noah's opinion.

With tour upcoming, Matt had a long list of things that needed to be finalized before they left. Normally it would have taken him days to get through them all but she showed up (and Matt could only describe her as a whirlwind) and took one look at his list and completed more than half in a day.

With ease and professionalism, she finalized hotel rooms across the tour as well as a slew of other things, leaving Matt more angry than relieved. She made his job easier while simultaneously making it all look too easy.

“What's with that scowl?” she asked, smacking him in the face with a pen in what he could only assume was her attempt at being silly. “If you want, I can pick up lunch while you finish your half of the list?”

The pen is yanked from her hand and tossed aside, hitting the floor with a clack and although it was a relatively quiet noise, it felt all too loud in the sudden silence between them. There was an intensity in Matt's eyes that she hadn't before noticed. He suddenly seemed to loom over her, as if his anger had made him taller but she was used to tantrums and shitty people, it came with the territory of working in the industry and so she held her ground, meeting his gaze with an unblinking stare.

The silence remained for a good 30 seconds as neither of them said anything, each waiting for the other to back down and break the silence first. She wasn't afraid, at least not of Matthew Dierkes, he was all talk and no walk, and she knew it. And he knew she knew.

“You should quit,” he says finally, breaking the silence between them with quiet words filled with anger. “I don't want you here.”

“Too bad, throw this small dick syndrome tantrum elsewhere because we both know I'm doing a good job,” and with that, she spun around on her heel and walked away, head high and without a glance back in his direction to see whether or not the words had stung him.

He didn't want to admit it or even think about what it meant for him, but her attitude and crude remark, paired with that cleat confidence went straight to his dick.

The thought of her plagued his mind. He ran and re-ran her every word in his head, again and again as he laid in bed that night. He fell asleep to thoughts of her and those thoughts turned into dreams.

Dreams that woke Matt up in the middle of the night, his cock straining against his boxers as precum made a small wet patch over the fabric. He palmed his erection through his boxers, half asleep and thinking of her and how she stood up to him. He pushed his boxers down his thighs, just enough to free his cock before spitting into his palm.

It didn't take much - just a few strokes over his cock before he was shooting ropes of cum over his stomach and chest. 

“Fuckin’ Y/N,” he murmured.

Gear and suitcases and everything in between had been loaded onto the bus and band and crew had chosen their bunks. Matt wasn't exactly sure how it happened but he had a sneaking suspicion that Noah had been involved, but Matt had ended up with the bunk beneath Y/N's. His suspicions were immediately confirmed by a wink from the frontman and Matt had a moment of fear, wondering if somehow Noah had found out about Matt's late night masturbation session and who exactly he had been getting off to.

He shook those thoughts from his head because as weird as Noah could sometimes be, he definitely wasn't a mind reader.

“Uh-oh, Matt, looks like we're bunked close together. Hope that doesn't cause you to have a piss party,” she stated, tossing her bag into her bunk.

“The shits a piss party?” he grumbled back, immediately back to his hater self. “You say the stupidest shit. Fuck, you're so annoying.”

Jolly, from his own bunk, nodded solemnly at Matt. “I've had a piss party,” he stated and then proceeded not to elaborate further and Matt wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not.

As the weeks crept by, Matt became more and more agitated. He couldn't deny that Noah had been right about Y/N being a good assistant tour manager. No matter what kind of shit was flung at her, she handled it quickly and professionally which ultimately made Matt's job easier. 

He tried to find things to nitpick and reasons to be mad, but he failed. Her time working as a tour manager for other, smaller bands, had given her plenty of experience and the very few times that she came up lacking or un-knowledgeable, she proved to be a quick learner.

As much as he hated to admit it, she was the proverbial yin to his yang.

“Hey, Matt,” her voice knocked him out of his thoughts about her and he turned to face her. They'd just finished loading the last of their gear back up and the band had dispersed to figure out their dinner situations. “Let's go get dinner,” she continued and then gave him a mischievous grin. “You're paying since you've been eye-fucking me for the last hour.”

“I have not,” he denied, immediately following after her as she began walking in some direction, clearly having an idea of where she wanted them to get dinner. “You are so fucking full of yourself, you know?”

“Yeah, because I'm the fucking shit,” she answered. “Plus anyone with eyes can tell you wish I was full of you.” She waggled a finger at him. “I finally have you figured out. Well actually, Noah figured you out and then ratted you out.”

Noah Fucking Sebastian. He loved the man but hated how easily Noah figured out how to fuck with him. And this time it was by realizing that Matt had developed feelings for Y/N.

He snorted and then went silent, unable to think of a comeback for what she had said. So instead he just shrugged and followed her into the little restaurant. He was somewhat surprised the place was still open but that was the bright side to American tours, there was always one or two little places with kitchens that didn't close until one or two am.

He followed her up to the counter and, yes, he paid for her meal too. It wasn't until they sat down to eat that he finally had input to give on her little revelation towards his feelings.

“Noah's a bitch,” he grumbled. “But yeah, fuck it, he's right. I guess you aren't that bad.”

She laughed and then choked on her drink, causing him to smile. “It didn't take him long to figure it out since you keep moaning my name in your sleep at night. Here I thought you were fighting me in your dreams but Noah said those were wet dream moans.”

It was Matt's turn to choke then. “I fucking did not do that,” he argued in horror.

“Ask anyone on the bus, they'll agree that you did,” came her amused response. “Kinda cute in a perverted way.”

“That shits fucking embarrassing,” he said, unable to believe that this was how the current admission to feelings was happening. If he wasn't as close to the guys as he was, he might have crawled into a hole to die.

She caught him by surprise, leaning over their little dinner table to steal a kiss. “Shit talk me again and I'll beat your ass,” she warns.

“Not going to lie, that kinda turns me on,” he laughs, cheeks going a little red because its true.

“Well in that case the next hotel we're all in, come to my room and I'll beat your ass for fun.”

He reaches across the table, taking her hand in his, not exactly sure what this meant for their relationship or how they would even define whatever this was between them.

“Noah's never going to let you live this down,” she said, squeezing his hand. “Lets fuck with him and fight even worse and see how long it takes for him to figure it out.”

“I might be a little in love with you now,” he says, agreeing to her proposal. “Maybe we can trick him into buying us dinner while we're at it.”

The two of them walked back to the bus, practically giggling over their little prank idea on Noah.

Noah, who took one look at them over the top of his phone when they got back, and then proceeded to announce to the whole bus that Matt and Y/N were dating. 

“Please,” Noah says after the announcement, “you two have been in denial about liking each other since you met. I'm just surprised it took this long. You're both welcome for setting you up by the way. When you get married, I expect to be the maid of honor and the best man.”

“You motherfucker. I love you though,” Y/N says with a laugh. 

“Hey, remember the bus rules you two,” Jolly adds quickly. “No fucking on the bus. Unless I'm allowed to join.”

Matt handed his new girlfriend the pillow off his bunk wordlessly and then cheered her on as she used it to beat the shit out of Jolly. 

“Thanks, Noah,” Matt added quietly and Noah just laughed before retreating to his own bunk.

[ineptlydrawnnep]

Day 103

Ship: Nepeta x Sollux

Ship Song: 'The Ballad of Love and Hate' by The Avett Brothers

Hate stumbles forward and leans in the door / Weary head hung down, eyes to the floor / He says, "Love, I'm sorry" and she says, "What for?" / "I'm yours and that's it, whatever" / "I should not have been gone for so long" / "I'm yours and that's it, forever"

I'll be honest here, Im getting burnt out on so many ships haha. I had a plan for Sollux that was much more serious and would involve an AU where SBURB didn't happen and he had to constantly be on the lookout not to get caught to be used, Nepeta helping and protecting him- BUT that would've involved a comic and I'm pretty spent.

Instead, another idea crept up on me as I had my most recent playlist on shuffle and the song up top got stuck in my head.

So here, we have post HS2 Sollux who's been through the wringer romantically multiple times. Losing both girlfriends, and again (for this AU) drifting apart from Aradia the more craziness around canon happened, he's grown pretty stoic to the whole thing.

He doesn't feel like he can hold, or even WANTS to hold onto a relationship.

Enter an Alt. Nepeta (not from his timeline), who has been his friend since the bubbles. She's stuck by him gleefully as maybe the first troll she saw since her death, and he just allowed it. More trolls came and went so their attentions would divide sometimes, but eventually, as everything was going to go to shit, Sollux decided to split from all the drama. Guess who tagged along?

They've been living together ever since! Now in Roxy's basement, with a life-ring resurrection, Nep is happily taking care of Sol, much to his complaint. He keeps pushing her to go out more, to do stuff, to have better friends but though she sometimes ventures out, it's never for long and she's always back to 'bother' him.

He hates himself for missing her when she's gone, and he hates it more how happy he is when she's back. He doesn't want to confront what this could actually mean; that their pale relationship was crossing something red.

Nepeta is aware of this, and patiently waits till he's ready to make it official.

[maxcuntstappen]

heyoheyo quick question i just started getting into f1. this race is the first i watched live while lurking on the tag here and is it always like this? the amount of hateful posts and anti this anti that stuff I've seen is crazy. i know it's sport and everythings competitive but im in other sport fandoms here and the atmosphere is much nicer when cheering for and respecting all athletes with the mutuals.

so yeah i guess i just wanna know if this is always the vibe before getting involved further. which would be sad cause the athletes and racing is very fun

hi anon <3 first of all, i'm so fucking sorry that this was ur first experience live blogging during a race. yest was a toxic whirlwind and i, despite having been part of f1blr for a bit, was quite downtrodden and mad about it.

i will say this. i personally believe it's not as bad as it was yesterday.

there are many reasons for this i think. to begin with, it was the first race of the season effect. everyone's been waiting n dying to see their fav on track and to have a good result and we also didn't really know how the teams would perform. so a lot of expectation -> a lot of disappointment -> mean things on tumblr.

people often find it easier to blame another driver than a whole ass team cause it's easier to direct the anger at a person than a concept which i think is what happened yesterday with multiple drivers.

it's not usually this bad.

but.

it is often quite bad. definitely worse than other fandoms.

i do think the racing makes up for it and that's why i've still stuck around.

ella and i were talking about it and the takes are definitely at its worse during the race and two hours after it.

once we pass that wave, things tend to calm down and we enter the funny text posts territory.

but if you do want to live post/scroll through it, i would stick to my own dash and avoid the main tags.

tumblr gives us the privilege of careful curation and i use that shit everyday. like i will check the bio and do a quick scroll thru each blog i follow.

i also have multiple tags (n blogs) blocked.

there are several people on f1blr who post amazing content and are so on top of updates. but they can be really mean in their phrasing. i don't follow them or block them cause i know that their content will reach my dash through my mutuals but their hot takes won't (especially the text posts where people rant in their tags, those tend to be the meanest).

despite all this, yesterday i spent a good amount of time unfollowing some mutuals. but as i said, i really do believe that f1blr was at its worst then.

there are definitely some blogs that are neutral/nice about the drivers/teams they don't support. these are some of my favourites;

@epylonia @cooali @liamlawsonlesbian @jussst-lurking

i know i have answered ur simple yes/no question with a WikiHow article but i really do hope that bits of it can be helpful to u and that if ur online n scrolling thru jeddah, u see more fun takes than hurtful ones

[abyssleaves]

Why I'll Be Remaining in the Lurking For Love Community

Ok.

Honestly, I really don't want to make this.

I'm way too old for fandom drama, and I don't need to be making myself a target. My gut is telling me that it's a bad idea to get involved, and I'm inviting trouble for myself by posting this.

But the most recent post against Tom is just ridiculous and I can't not speak my piece.

I'm not linking to it or reblogging it because I don't want to send hate anyone's way, and honestly because I'm going to block them as soon as this is posted. You can read mine and theirs for yourself and decide what you think.

As far as the “anti-Latino” posts that Tom liked, I can't speak to whether they do damage, or what Tom’s views actually are. I am not Latino, and I'm not Tom. It's not my place. But I will say I was aware of those posts long before I saw that “callout” post, and it's because multiple Latino artists I follow liked and retweeted them. At the time, I was given to understand that they were satirizing the fact that both were styles of stereotypes, but one was acceptable while the other was not, despite both being bad. I can't say, based on just those tweets, that I see any anti-Latino sentiment in Tom. I'm willing to admit that my knowledge on that front isn't bomb-proof.

The second point, well... I'm sorry to the friend that feels used. They're entitled to be hurt. And I will readily admit that I'm only able to respond to the info within that post. Maybe there IS more to it.

But I don't think that Tom ceasing contact over the hormones is surprising at all, from a mental health standpoint. Put yourself in his shoes: you're a trans person in US, which is its own struggle, and you've reached your mid/early 20s without being able to attain gender-affirming care. Now someone years younger than you just got the thing you want more than anything else. Sure, you might be happy for them. But that is also going to hurt, horribly. You really have three options:

1) stay friends and smother the bitterness/possible resentment. That will either end up ruining your mental health, or coming out and ruining the friendship anyway.

2) Ask your friend not to tell you/post about their transition. That makes it about you and also ruins something that should make them happy.

3) Distance yourself.

Maybe he should have spoken more directly with you about his feelings, granted. But, Tom has not been shy about the fact that he struggles with his mental health. None of us handle every situation well. As far as his occasional venting, I would think, if you WERE his friend, you might have some compassion, and either cease contact if the friendship is not fulfilling, or accept his sincere, well-written apology (Which are the ONLY words straight from Tom’s mouth on the entire fucking post).

Instead, you got the apology from him, and then shared a bunch of gossip between you and another friend, and outed your interpretations of his vent sessions to the world. That's not exactly classy, posting about how he sought people he felt safe with during a time when a big chunk of the community he built is telling him to do horrible things to himself.

I want to make it clear that I don't agree with all of Tom’s views as expressed on his initial explanation post. Again, many of them are issues that I don't feel are my place to get involved in, and therefore I stayed quiet at the time.

I'm aware that the justified and intense hurt felt by people in those communities can mean that even differing opinions feel like a slap in the face. You have every right to see Tom’s views as hurtful and choose to leave, and/or make a separate community for support. I don't blame people who are in those communities for doing so. This post is aimed at the obsessed minority that won't leave the tag/remaining fans/Tom alone.

All of the above being said, the reaction to Tom’s post is the most “touch grass” thing I have ever seen.

Tom liking one or two comics from a dark-humor comic artist so widespread on the internet that I didn't even know he had an actual page, or anything about him as a person (something Tom also stated) = Tom is a Nazi sympathizer.

Tom saying “I don't care for neopronouns, but I won't attack you for using them and will respect what everyone wants to be called” = Tom is a monstrous bigot.

The racism accusation has me especially 💀. All because he liked a post about help from an unexpected source and that we should be kinder to each other.

How on earth are you going to tell a POC that he doesn't know what racism is because he’s NOT THE RIGHT KIND OF POC? Do you hear yourself?

(FWIW, I also don't agree with kink at pride. Sorry. LGBTQ+ people are not "narsty little freaks"--yeah I SAW that post--they're people. They can be kinky, they can be vanilla, whatever. Kink has nothing to do with your orientation, and therefore it isn't part of Pride. Also, my guys, if you're having public sex/being nude at pride for kink reasons, then you're not part of the healthy kink community: safe, sane, and CONSENSUAL. Nobody around you consented to that. Similarly, while I feel that sex education for minors should be normalized in order to give them better tools to tell when they're being groomed, seeing strangers with no pants on is NOT education, that's involving minors in your fetish. And that's fucking gross. )

The LGBTQ+ community in the US is in a lot of trouble right now, and we have a very bad habit of eating our own. We divide and subdivide and allow ourselves to be carved up by a united conservative front.

We do not allow for differing levels of leftist beliefs, and we constantly accuse each other of being not POC/leftists/queer enough, or being the wrong kind, or using a term for ourselves that some other individuals don't like. A great deal of the bullying leveled against him is justified by others saying that he's choosing to support a party that will turn on him and cause him and others like him harm.

Well, to be honest, the only community I see doing that right now is this one.

The amount of disingenuous “OMG, just FYI everyone to everyone hurt by [situation], I’M not transphobic/a bigot, you're all welcome here 😌” posts from people, who did not read his post, did not link to or quote his post. Disgusting. You know very well that nothing in his explanation or in his actions throughout his time in the community pointed to any abuse ON HIS PART towards trans people, non-binary people, people of the Jewish faith, or POC. You're virtue signaling, you're putting lambs blood above your door to keep the baying mob away.

This is insane. When did differing opinions turn into this? You don't have to agree with Tom’s views on anything. You're welcome to not follow his accounts, not like his art, not buy his game. If you feel that his opinions are too severely different from yours, you should be allowed to leave the fandom without people telling you that you should do bad things to yourself because your opinions don't match theirs (sound familiar?).

But…please. Can we stop with this awful parasocial obsession with his personal page? You can't lie to yourself and call it anything other than literal stalking. It's creepy as hell, and it reflects more on you than on him, in the long run. People might agree with your outrage, but deep down, they're afraid of being the next target, and they stay quiet out of fear that you'll stalk them next and send a mob hurling abuse their way.

To Tom, I'm sorry that this happened to you. You didn't deserve anything even close to this level of vitriol and abuse. You started from scratch and created a character and story that I feel was something truly unique. You reached an incredible number of people's hearts with Lurking for Love and Jacob, and no matter what happens from here with both of them, you deserve to feel proud of that. I hope that you are ok. Being a public figure on the internet doesn't mean you don't have a right to private opinions or even just general privacy.

I'm not tagging any characters in this. I'm only tagging the game because I hope other fans get to see that they're not alone. I don't believe the tags should be polluted this way. If you have to discuss a creator, it should be in his tag and not in a fandom space.

I'm aware that there will be deliberate bad-faith readings of this, or nitpicking of things I didn't cover. Whoever wants to, go ahead and respond, but I've said what I came to say, and I have nothing more to add. My inbox is closed and I love the block button.

[axolotlsupremacyowo]

20 Questions for Writers

Thanks @oceangirl24 for the tag! I love you, bestie!

Now, on to the questions!

❣️How many works do you have on AO3?

I have 86 fics! I write all kinds of things! Case fics, angst, fluff, smut, and all that jazz. I like to think that I have a diverse range of stuff on AO3, which I find I'm really proud of :3

❣️What is your total AO3 word count?

613,383....Yes, I write too much.

❣️What fandoms do you write for?

Most of my fics are Ace Attorney, but I have other fandoms like Stardew Valley! I also write in fandoms that are gifts for friends.

❣️What are your top five fics by kudos?

Say My Name (233 kudoes)

Operation Helios (178 kudoes)

Apollo is a Crazy Cat Attorney™ (166 kudoes)

Ace Attorney: Maya Fey (166 kudoes)

Turnabout Birch Meadows (151 kudoes)

Nice! Most of them are Klapollo XD

❣️Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I love responding to comments! I get to ramble, and I want each and every commenter to know that I appreciate them <3. Sometimes I take a long time, so sorry about that!!!! But I'll get to the comment eventualy!!

❣️What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Definitely Things Left Unsaid, that fic is SUPER angsty with a really sad ending. It's non canon Major Character Death, so of course it's angsty lol.

❣️What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

I'm...not sure? A lot of my fics end in happy endings. But if I had to pick the happy ending that made me the most emotional, I'd have to choose Blossoming in the Rain.

❣️Do you get hate on your fic?

Surprisingly, no. I've only gotten support for my fics. Which I am VERY much thankful for. To all of my followers, readers, and supporters...thank you SO much for making my fandom experience so lovely <3

❣️Do you write smut?

Definitely lol. I used to be terrified of writing smut...and then I met a certain someone *cough cough* @mikaharuka *cough cough* and now I've written a lot of smut. This is all YOUR FAULT BESTIE.

❣️Do you write crossovers?

Nope lol. I like to keep my fandoms separate.

❣️Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I...don't think so? But if someone has stolen my fics, please be sure to tell me! I'm not exactly keen on the idea of my fics being plagiarized or stolen.

❣️Have you ever had a fic translated?

Again, I have no idea. I don't think it has since nobody has approached me before, so to my knowledge it's a no.

❣️Have you ever co-written a fic?

Yes!!! I've co written SO many things with my bestiest of besties @tsunderesalty and I love every fic I've co written with him. He's just the greatest and he's an amazing writer. Check him out!

❣️What's your all-time favorite ship?

Hmm! For Ace Attorney, it's a tough choice between Klapollo and Franmaya. For Stardew, my top ship is my farmer and Sebastian (Sebakonnie)

❣️What's the WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

My flufftober series. I started it in 2022...and it's currently 2024. I just kinda lost steam for that fic. I am very proud of all the fics I've written for it, though. Maybe I should revisit it...

❣️What are your writing strengths?

Nothing.

Ahem, knowing how my dearest besties would respond to that...I guess my flexibility with writing styles? I talked about this with my friends before, but I have multiple writing styles, five to be specific. I can switch between them pretty easily, and I like to think they're all distinct from each other but still being undeniably me. God, I really don't wanna sound like I'm bragging XD.

❣️What are your writing weaknesses?

NOT KNOWING WHEN TO SHUT THE FUCK UP. I literally cannot shut up for the life of me. It is a curse. My fics would be SO much shorter if I just shut up lol.

❣️Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

Oh!!! Actually, so about this! For reference, I'm Filipino, born and raised in the Philippines. I can speak Filipino and Tagalog pretty well, and I can understand Bisaya (Cebuano is its official name, but everyone in the Philippines calls it Bisaya) well, but I can speak it only a little bit. Anyway, I've always wanted to incorporate Filipino and Bisaya into my fics but didn't know how...and then I thought of Filipino Phoenix! Happy to say that I'm planning on writing that soon :3

So yeah, happy to include languages other than English! Especially my native language. Otherwise, for languages I don't know. I use Deepl, it's a very useful tool!

I'm all for using different languages in my fics, and when I get something wrong, I'm quick to correct it!

❣️First fandom you wrote for?

Ace Attorney. I have had Ace Attorney brainrot for SO long.

❣️Favorite fic you've ever written?

.....

.........

.........

YOU'RE MAKING ME CHOOSE OUT OF ALL OF MY BABIES?

Would it be cheating to choose a series? XD

But yeah! My Defense Attorney Maya Fey series contains my favorite fics of all! The top ones of my list being Ace Attorney: Maya Fey and Yours Truly, Franziska von Karma. I just...love these fics so much...I especially love Ace Attorney: Maya Fey. That bitch has been my baby since like...2021?

Now! Who to tag...that would be my besties @mikaharuka, @aislinnstanaka, @udaberriwrites, @kayedium-writes, @justanotherpersonwhowrites, @mikaharuka @fattybattysblog

[the-s1lly-corner]

Tsudere Jax that pretends to hate the reader but does things to secretly be with them x a fem happy but smart Uzadere that loves being in the circus (sorry for the weird terms lol I watch too much anime)

i just love the way you write Jax it seems so accurate and cute! Sorry for all the tadc asks but I just couldn't help it- you have the best Jax stories

Jax x Uzadere!Reader !

No need to apologize for sending stuff in, if it makes you feel better I hardly noticed you sent multiple things in, and still haven't seen any connections even after you point out you've sent in multiple 😭😭 nothing wrong with sending in 1 or 2 requests though!! And I take me not noticing you being the same person says you're not sending in too many.. if that makes sense?? Sometimes you can make out spammers/excessive requesters through mannerisms and stuff

Sits

Anyways ehehe I hope you enjoy!! Didnt see much point of tagging jax as a tsundere since I now realize that's literally.. how I write him sometimes

Written on mobile!

Apologies for any mistakes, I've never heard of a uzadere before <\3

I think I said in my general jax hc post from a few days ago that sometimes jax will steal something from someone's room in order to make them come to him.. get their attention..

I think jax would do that to you, many times.. and you pick up on it and start being annoying about it.. as in you start teasing him

Cue jax trying to shut it down, despite the things you're saying being totally true!

I think if anyone else tried to say that he had feelings he would act like a little schoolyard boy talking about cooties... definitely getting way too deep into trying to dismiss things

Sometimes he can find your loud uzadere-esque personality annoying, and perhaps even more so since you're so happy..

That makes it sound like he doesnt want to see you happy, but that's not true! Its more so like.. exhausting positivity sometimes, you know? You're just so cheerful that sometimes it can get onto this mean bunny's nerves

Probably uses your brains in pranks and shenanigans.. totally not because he likes your company or anything...

Probably still acts like you have cooties even if you guys have been dating for a long while

[niishi]

Hi. So I saw your posts about the x reader stuff, and I'm sorry that your having your time on Tumblr ruined by a community you aren't apart of. I know the tag feature has been an issue with a lot of people in tons of different communities.

But I am genuinely curious, because shouldn't this be something your more mad at the Tumblr tag function or just Tumblr in general for? Like I checked the posts you showed in the video, and both seem to be tagged fairly normally, and neither seemed spammed with tags. So wouldn't it be more productive to submit reports to Tumblr about the lack of the tag function reflecting your blocked/muted tags and creators?

As someone from the x reader side, I can assure you that we aren't doing this stuff maliciously, and I know I can speak for a lot of people on here when I say that we just want everyone to enjoy their time on the site. But taking the anger out on the creator when the fault really is with the site's tagging feature itself doesn't really solve anything.

Especially since this is an issue much bigger than just fanfiction side, as I know many artists try their best to tag their art with phobias that may trigger people in a particular piece, and how the tagging system is now, it's not really able to help as effectively as it should.

But anyways, again I'm sorry this is having a negative impact on your time here. I really do hope they get this stuff sorted out soon. And I highly recommend that you submit a report to possibly further help the push for a better tagging system.

I hope you have a wonderful day. ❤

Since 2012 when I started using Tumblr, it's always had issues with how it's functioned and how the tagging system has functioned. That's why it's userbase came together as a whole to do a damn good job at making sure things were tagged properly so people wouldn't have these issues with the tagging system (that has never once been perfect since the beginning of Tumblr and most likely never will be.) I'm specifically mad at x reader writers because they are the ONLY people who do not tag properly.

Example: don't tag x reader stuff with main fandom tags. Like instead of tagging it [character name] AND [ character name x reader], tag it with JUST [Character name x reader] instead of tagging it with [show name] AND [Show name x reader] tag it with JUST [Show name x reader]

That way, when I mute "show/character name x reader", it will actually mute it. The I can properly avoid it. But when you tag it with all the main fandom tags as well, it gets unmuted and I can no longer avoid it.

Also x reader writers will tag it with EVERY main fandom tags. Not just the characters they've wrote about, but every single strawhat. So I'm seeing usopp x reader in the Luffy tag.

Truly, this is less of "Tumblr tag system not working" and moreso "people not using the tag system properly and ruining its purpose". If I tagged every single dog I saw with cat tags, it would show up in all the cat tags. So when people search cats, all they'll get is dogs. Not that they hate dogs, but it's NOT what they're looking for. And just because I want everyone to see dogs, doesn't mean I should force them to.

Tumblr doesn't use an AI to auto tag things and sort them properly. It uses it's userbase to do that. If it's userbase isn't using it right, it doesn't work.

I am 1000000% blaming x reader writers. Every single fandom has this issue. Ive seen multiple viral posts complaining about this NOT just from the one piece fandom. It's inconsiderate, and rude, and ruins many peoples tag pages, fyps, AND dashes.

It's not my responsibility to fix an issue I didn't create. All it would take is for this one group of people to stop accosting everyone and start using the tag system as it was intended. This is the first time in my 12yrs on this site where it's been an issue. And it's because none of these writers tag correctly. Simple as that. Tumblr can't stop "dog" from being sorted into the "cat" tag if everyone is tagging dogs as cats.

Also it's not an accident or simply forgetting. It's intentional. And it shouldn't be bc it ruins everyone else's experience.

[antiendovents]

Hello there. We will not be tagging off or even mentioning what our system name is for safety.. but we’ve recently been leaning more anti-endo but still endo neutral lately. We just didn’t want to appear “hateful”. But we’re so confused on so many things.

For instance. It’s illogical that you can form without trauma. How can you be multiple without amnesia and disassociated identity?

Two. What the fuck is even exotrauma. That’s not an actual thing. The fuck. And we’re getting tired of pretending like we’re okay with that too.

And third of all, although we’re traumagenic, we developed MADD as another coping mechanism for our trauma, so would it be controversial to say that has had an impact on our system too? It only affects our headspace, really.

It’s kind of the incorrect place to even go to ask for this, but we didn’t know where else to go. We’d like to hear the anti-endogenics side of the story, since we’ve heard the other side for so long. We honestly were afraid of anti-endogenics or being one because there’s a lot of negativity. Is us even leaning more anti-endogenic now make us hateful ..?

We wish we weren’t so damn confused on everything. We wish we actually knew answers about all this.

Is there also even a way to not feel guilty or bad over wanting to appear more anti-endogenic?

This is complicated. We wont comment on exotrauma since we literally have no clue what that is. I guess you could say that your MADD affects parts of your system, just don't claim it causes your system. There's not too much negativity in anti-endo spaces (from our experience) you just need to find the right ones. As far as I am aware it only really comes from when endos start harassing anti-endos for believing in science. Being anti endo isn't really a hateful thing, it's literally just believing in the science and research of a disorder. I guess that's the best way to think about it. It's not like you're against people, you're against the misinformation the people spread. If that makes sense. I don't know, I'm trying to make this easily digestible. Sorry if this isn't very good, I am sick rn 😭

[sucantslay]

Wataru and Eichi's solo song analysis

-How did it connect together and the meaning of their relationship-(Part1: Eichi)

I'm literally crying, and there will be more tears after this...but I must...

If you're questioning why I delivered this analysis so late...uhm, it's long. But in short, I've to re-read some of the stories just to make some needed points and to make sure that the facts are true ( and all kinds of business randomly pop up on my schedule, haunting me for weeks! )

Before that, I need you to read some warnings first!

This is my PERSONAL way of looking at their characteristic, if it is not for you, YOU'RE FREE TO HAVE YOUR OWN IDEAL.

Even if you're an Eichi-P, an Eichi hater, or just someone who simply wants to know more about him, I welcome you all with open arms. No one is being banned here. But pls, if you don't like or enjoy the way I look and think of Eichi, do not send hate or make any big mess. If you don't like it, just stop reading, that's it.

There won't be much of the translated song picture because Tumblr stops me from putting 10pic in a post so...again with the word.

THIS IS GONNA BE GODDAMN LONG! I spit it into 2 parts! And it still LONGGG HELP! ( Part 1 will be Eichi's song and Part two is for Wataru song ) I'll make a tag and put the link so you can get to Wataru's part.

I'll be using these 2 Eichi solo songs to analyze:

Shinning star + Crystal Pleasure

And for Wataru:

Amazing World + Wandering Clown

I'm so sorry if there is not much information about Wataru, as well as a good look into his character. We don't have much information about him so...I need things to base on, a clue to know what up with him, but it is hard to even find one because he rarely talks about himself. So most of this analysis will be talking about it from Eichi's standpoint. It's funny how both rarely talk about their family and other personal stuff but since Wataru is around and always able to pull some lore out of Eichi's mouth, we get to know more about Eichi. Though, it was not the same for Wataru because Eichi have lot of respected for him. There had been multiple occasions when Eichi tried telling Wataru that he could open up to him but after some silence, Eichi just said: "It ok if you don't wanna talk about it." And they continued on with other stuff.

Alright, let's set up a map for this one because it is kinda LOnGGGGG

A small summary of young Eichi and how he came to know Wataru + during the war and after the war ended.

What thoughts do I have on Eichi being so in love with Wataru?

Into the song: About Eichi's solo then we'll get to Wataru's solo later.

1. A little summary!

Since this post is a goddam 4 song-analyzing post, it going to be hard for those who just want to get to the song part, so I made a whole different post for it!

If you're interested, go ahead and read the summary, if not, you can get to other parts. BUT, I STRONGLY RECOMMEND YOU TO read it ( if you have the time to ) because it going to help you understand Eichi's character better and enjoyable view of his song and the connection he has with Wataru.

2. Some of my thought on their dynamic ( 0v0/ ✨❤️✨)

I'm crying in happiness to get a chance to talk about them. I really want to do this for a long time ago but never got the time to.

As I've mentioned before in part 1. Eichi is Wataru's biggest fan.

So, it is likely that Eichi loves him but also puts a distance wall in their relationship like how a fan is to their idols.

From the brutal war, Eichi thinks he had hurt too many people to be forgiving PLUS the self-hate and low-esteem, it is just like a knife that was already placed in his chest, after the war ends, it just goes deeper in.

Wataru visited him but it did not make Eichi cry in tear of joy but in pain, because to Eichi, now, no one would like to be with him anymore. It was a good choice to let Tsumugi go, so he can be free. It was a good choice to made that damn contract even if friendship is what needed to help a Unit grow strong.

That "Fine" was never a Unit in Eichi's eyes. It was nothing but a weapon he used to wield. To kill the innocent, carefree being, yet it was necessary.

An action he must took to made the school a better place. And he did, he succeeded but sacrificed himself in the process.

So, if it was not for Wataru, we would never have the Fine today. Heck! Maybe we never get to see Eichi again and he will become nothing but the dust of Yumenosaki's past.

And I was so in tears! Every goddamn time Eichi keeps on with that suspicious look, scare that Wataru wouldn't be with him anymore, that Eichi will be throw away like trash.

Like! Give it a rest buddy! He love you! That it!

And to that depressed little rich guy? Wataru didn't hate him or stay away from him at all!

He was also trying his best, like feeding a kid the food they hate but is healthy so Wataru have to keep trying.

He kept on trying and trying just to let Eichi know: "I'm here for you, and I won't run away, I won't hurt you, I won't betray you. I will be here, with you."

With that came! The shiniest moment of the two!

EP: Link!

When Wataru literally gave Eichi his one and beloved mask that he wear all the time, just to let Eichi know that he'll always be here for Eichi.

I laughed so hard with Eichi just confused at the spot until others showed up.

Like, Eichi, yeh? Rich, smart, good looking. Yet just for a mask now placed on his hand and he getting all wonder in space.

Why? Because he was so sure about everything he thought! To him, his plan was perfect, to the man who wounded many, of course, he would never think that the plan in his head would not become true. He did it before, how can he fail it this time?

It couldn't go wrong, right? He thinks to himself but never did he consider it to be just some random stuff that he made up in his head and reality is different.

When he hear the news that Wataru participated in the actor test, he thought Wataru gave up on being an idols. Then went: "Well...look like he didn't want to be with me anymore. Look like he'll be come an actor."

Like...man, you made that up. You're sad because of your own thoughts then later on get confused when it isn't what actually happened.

This man is such a pathetic guy, I love him.

3. Song analysis:

Well well well, isn't it time *look at my watch*

Even though analysis 1 song would be great, I do, however, want to put 2 solo songs into this analysis then one.

Of course, we'll go slow and analyze one at a time, yet I can't stop but put both songs in one post because, in that way, we can see how both have changed, develop though still full of flaws, they have become something beautiful and will continues to grow.

Let's start with - SHINING STAR:

"A twinkling trace of a dream from beyond the horizon."

"Even though I understand...that it might just be an illusion"

Firstly, the name of this first solo is "SHINING STAR". It both mentions Wataru ( of course! ) and Eichi being the star.

But the two are described differently.

In these lines, mentions the appearance of an unknown shining star from beyond the horizon, a faraway star that shines bright.

But the more Eichi looked, as he thought it was all just a dream, an unreal feeling of this star that shine far in the sky. Because it was so beautiful, but how did he be able to find it here? Was it all way that close or was it all his imagination?

"Today with you, I continue to chasing it."

I said it already but let's say it again!

This man you're looking at is once a suicidal freak!!!

So gained enough confidence to live up to a "Today with you" is one thing, and actually find meaning in life "continue to chasing it" is another.

Because when you're in a state of depression, to once again find the meaning it life is HARD. When everything is already at its limit. When you can't feel anything anymore

Nothing but an empty soul, it hard. That is why depressing people don't do many things or everything at the same time. They try to find a way to continue living or decide to give up on everything.

Losing motive.

Yet Eichi was able to wake up and try to run away from this death of him. He might die from trying too hard, but he made the decision. To continue.

And who gave him the courage for this? Wataru! That is why, it was a "Today with you". Because Eichi still wants to see Wataru's show and witness the beauty of this magician.

I can't die yet! That's why he continues to fight. For everyone, for himself, but right at this moment, when the solo was released, at this moment, to him, Wataru was the first reason for he to continue.

As he's love for idols, pulls him back to life.

"Beautiful things are so fragile and ephemeral" "Permeating through your eyes, I reach out" "Oh, SHINING STAR"

Guys, I'll count from 1 to 3, guess who Eichi was singing about.

1, 2, 3!

Surprise no surprise! It was Wataru.

The shining star he mentions in some of the first lines, as it was far away but Eichi isn't that hopeless of a boy anymore, he shows signs of trying "I reach out".

He wants to be admitted and to be seen in his beloved idol's eyes. He wanted Wataru to see him and caught Wataru's attention.

Even if Wataru is already there for him, Eichi himself thinks otherwise, that he still has a long way to go. He can't just be at the winning spot without paying any price.

And for that, he was scared that he might hurt him. Like the things he did to Wataru friend, the Eccentric and the old Fine.

He was so scared of this beauty now coming so close to him "Beautiful things" he called it, the feeling he had when he was with Wataru, with the things he love yet never had a change to tough it is "fragile", this relationship can be broke if Wataru don't want to be with him anymore.

But, was Wataru's purpose for being here in was because of him or because Wataru wanted something from him.

He feels like the relationship they have is "ephemeral"

( if you are questioning: Ephemeral means lasting for a very short time )

"Underneath this starry sky" "An unknown neverending path continues"

My man is confusing

This depressing guy just recovered from his wound and was still a little confused over the new future he's facing ahead.

It's an unknown path, may be perilous, may be terrifying but he made his decision, he'll go on, he'll continue.

He knows that it will be uneasy. For he who thought that the next thing he'll be on is his deathbed, never knew someone would have the time and strength to take his hand and pull him out of that destiny deathbed.

His future was switched, and now he had to face a new unknown path that he knew nothing about.

"And for your sake" "I'll keep on shining"

"I'll be "SHINING STAR"."

And for the clown who needs a villain to lead his way, Eichi will continue to live until Wataru no longer wants him.

He wants to, no, he is a star, an unknown star that yet to be discovered. And after Wataru point it out for him, he understand that he is also some where far yet close to Wataru spot.

So, to catch that shining star attention, he'll have to be shining too!

Thought Eichi didn't seen to realize what it takes to become a real idol. His love for idols is endless and so does he's wish for a brighter future with Wataru.

And with that, for Wataru's sake, he keeps on living, shining bright as a star.

"Hiding your sorrow behind a smile" "You understand the pain of resistance" "A lifeless flower is blooming in the plains" "Such things make this world beautiful"

I will kill just to legally continue calling out these lyrics that Eichi sings about, all pointing to Wataru.

If you thought, yeh, Wataru can't be sad, he always looks happy. Then, my dear reader, you are wrong. Wataru can be blue sometimes, but it's hard to know since he just kept on smiling.

You can rarely find a moment where he puts down his mask, but it doesn't mean zero.

In Phantom Thieves and Detectives, after Knight and Ra*bit show, Wataru appears in the dark. But he seems...tired and doesn't really care to put on the face of a clown anymore.

This is not often, but there is also the time when Wataru points out other characters about the fact that they're wearing a mask too.

The reason Eichi can sing these lines is because he notices, he watches Wataru closely, for a long time, to the point he starts to realize that his beloved idols also have their flaws.

Since 2 lines are already about Wataru, so is the third!

The flower is Wataru, but instead of blooming anywhere else, he blooms "in the plains".

A primarily treeless place. In that way, it was easy to spot the flowers.

Standing on the bright stage, all along. The soulless flower bloom. It was beautiful, but the more you look, you'll find out, that this beauty is an empty one, it was a host but without a soul.

"Without hurting anyone, no dream can come true" "Without getting hurt, there's no way forward either"

"Oh, SHINING STAR"

Oh, I don't know, maybe in his household, he was being taught that you'll have to fight to win things over. Since he's a heir of a big rich household, of course, he gets the education to become one.

In this brutal world of humanity, to Eichi, the way he can win is through competition, fighting and sometimes you'll have to be tricky and stop playing nice when it doesn't seem to work.

He could have found a better way to make the school turn from bad to good, but it is not possible to win over such things without bloodshed.

With that in mind, turning the table by starting a war, and such education had already eaten into his brain from youth.

So in his way of seeing things, there are no dream if you don't stand up for a fight. If not pulling people down to get the first place in line, how can you do it? Nicely ask them to? Will they simply say yes or kick you down to the ground.

If you don't get hurt, you can't learn from it. And at the end of the day, you'll achieve nothing.

"As unbalanced as we are" "If we have different strides, let's join hands"

This part, this dam part *cry*

Wataru is a different star, and Eichi is a different star, yet Eichi is trying to reach out to him.

Silly science time! Did you know that two stars are really really far away from each other? Yes, the Sun is a star, but Earth, Mars, and others are planets, not stars.

Two stars can't be too close together.

The average distance between two stars in the Milky Way is around 5 light-years, or 29 trillion miles (47 trillion kilometers)

And even though all those constellations seem to a "standing close with other stars" and got connected into a line, they're in fact not, one might be far away from the other, yet they're all too far for our human eyes to know the difference.

Also, if you're wondering about the fact that two stars stand next to each other, they can but...they simply will pull themself close to the other and then go boom like a two-side car crash ( with both drivers being drunk a*s f*ck since they just get out from their daily local bar )

( it feels like that one time when I analyzed a Valkyrie song then ended up putting an whole a*s poem in it )

Yet, Eichi wants to get to Wataru, "Let's join hands", so we don't lose each other, so you would go too far away from me.

"The path ahead of you" "I shall light it up" "I'm your "SHINING STAR"."

Guy, no word needs to be said, you simply read and understand...

AAAAA, fine! I will *continue to cry my eyes out*, Eichi wants to light Wataru road ahead.

To Wataru, the little actor, the little clown. Eichi is out there, writing the script for him. Wataru want Eichi too, as at first he was unsure, but now? He wants to lead the way, he wants a future with Wataru.

So he'll light the way, he'll become Wataru's "Shining star".

"If you were to lose your way, I would certainly guide you back"

Like a lost ship in the sea, Eichi will be his lighthouse, leading Wataru back to land.

"You just need to believe me, and take a step forward"

I love you as my beloved idol, I love to show you're talent to the world out there, and let them know how beautiful you are. So please put your trust in me.

"Oh, SHINING STAR" "Our world is such a cold, yet kind place, continuing to revolve" "So in oder to arrive at a new tomorrow"

Eichi is still insecure about life, he had been taught that he'll have to stand up for himself. He had been taught that this place was cold and lonely.

Yet he was able to find love. Eichi was not so sure if that love would stay for long, but it did change him.

The world that he thought was a cold and terrible place was actually warm and full of joy.

He's not so sure to accept this love, despite that, he wants it to stay for as long as it can. Because of it, he was able to continue to live on, and arrive at the moment when he thought he was already dead by that time.

The lyrics repeat themselves, showing Eichi's determent to become a shining star, as bright as Wataru, so he can stay next to him.

"Oh, SHINING STAR" "Underneath this starry sky" "An unknown, neverending path continues" "And for your sake" "I'll keep on shining" "I'll be "SHINING STAR"."

AND NOW, Welcome our next Eichi's solo:

Crystal Pleasure !!!

Before we get into the analysis, I just want you to know. SHINING STAR had a soft and chill beat, it was slow and calm but also sad and a little misery once you read through the lyrics.

BUT HIS SECOND SOLO? Crystal Pleasure?

It had a jazz-like 90s vibe and such a happy beat! It shows his change, that he is no longer fighting for his life but actually filled with joy with the new and warm future where the path is now clear to him.

"Crystal Pleasure, let's burn some Crystal Pleasure into those eyes" "Crystal Pleasure, there's so many Crystal Pleasure, over and over again."

The beginning was POP!

Anyway, the first song was about shining stars, and this time, it Crystal.

Both are kira kira but one is up in the sky and one is down to the ground.

I got a little confused but I guess I'll use both meanings. Crystal doesn't just mean a type of gem or quartz, it too means glass, depending on the way you use it.

It is a "crystal quartz" but it can also be a "crystal clear glass".

If we're talking about the crystal gems that is, then the meaning is quite clean, since crystal is being used in decorating important places and objects.

To make something beautiful is to decorate it with shining gems.

The meaning/symbolization of those shining crystals is "transcendence and the light of the heaven". Yes, all over Eichi and Fine theme isn't it.

Now, I won't let you wait any longer, let's get into the song, shall we:

"The world is flooding with entertainment (competing for stardom)" "And as they compete, they become more and more extreme, wanting to be chosen" "Even so, those pure eyes remain as they seek" And all the white and black that I emit to be stared at dazzlingly"

It was not just about the idol industry, Eichi was trying to tell a story here.

That "they" was someone. Guess who? Wataru Hibiki!

The lines: "As they compete, they become more and more extreme" really stick out to me.

A silly jester, a genius, who wanted to learn from trick to trick and he was able to learn them quickly given that he was a kind of genius. An Eccentric member.

He is an actor, standing on stage, waiting for a director to choose him, to write him a script.

Eichi could feel the eyes of Wataru, which seek for a screenwriter, to write Wataru a brand new story, a brand new world.

Eichi then accepted Wataru's invitation and decided to be the one to give him his new plays. A new role, a new life, a new love.

"Let's take my hand because it's a miracle that I was able to meet you in the brightness" "And I hope to repose to that miracle of meeting you with my whole life ahead of me"

After all that time, after a suicide state of him, being saved by Wataru was like a gift from god. He knew that he had such a love for idols, that love almost died down, being forgotten but then Wataru came, reminding Eichi about why he was here in the first place.

"Meet you in the brightness" is like an angel, visiting Eichi by the window. The light from the window makes Wataru look bright, like the angel he is to Eichi.

Moreover, this line has some resemblance to the symbolization of crystal, remember it? It's "Transcendence and the light of the heaven" .

( What's that? Sound like the tiled of this song is already about Wataru? The whole song is! What can I say more than the homies are at it again!!!)

Wataru was his savior, and Eichi hoped that he could repay this gratefulness to him.

Here, it may be minor but it was a welcoming change! Knowing Eichi, he would likely try to repay Wataru with lots of stuff. His ways of love are to buy people things and make a big event just for something so small yet it was precious to him, so it was worth it.

Did I mention the fact that Eichi bought a WHOLD AS* pyramid for him just because Wataru joke? Yeh...I'm not lying.

But in this line: "hope to repose - with my whole life ahead of me"

It changes, somethings change. Staying with Wataru for long enough, his view of looking changes. Now, instead of buying him something, Eichi uses his life and quality time as a gift to Wataru.

Eichi "Buying things for you is want I want to, but then again, maybe, spending some time with you is the real meaningful gift" Tenshouin.

Also, a small detail but the "Let's take my hand" part, did you know that in Tempest, this adorable little detail takes place:

"I want to connect all the sparkling moments and make you happy" "Ah, as long as I am allowed to live, let me give you happy dreams"

The first line is when Eichi wants to give Wataru happiness, but the second? A little happy mix with sad.

"As long as I am allowed to live"

Eichi mentions his sickness, will the sickness kill him first or will he overcome it. He doesn't know, but as long as he's healthy, when he's still here, he'll do everything to make Wataru happy.

The times may run out, but before I die, giving you happiness is the thing that will satisfy my near-death soul.

To fulfill Wataru's dream is the first thing to do on his little bucket list.

"I think I know how to charm you ( this unyielding stardom )" "So if there's something I can do here, I vow to protect it"

Bit confused, but I read it ten times over and understood that Eichi finally accepted Wataru's love, he vowed to protect it, the love and hope that bloomed from this new relationship.

"Now, I want you to look forward to it, and determine the value with your eyes" "This dream, love, and freedom that I draw now became strong and full of color"

I would like to have a call back to another line in this song, it was "all the white and black that I emit" given that these lyrics are talking about the freedom of Eichi's soul.

From a soulless human with just black and white, now his world is "full of color", filled with love and hope, this dream that seems to be lost has come back to life.

"Let's visit you into the brilliance, towards the tomorrow you desire" "Let's be a little greedy, there's no need to hold back"

Eichi will give Wataru the stage to shine, into the world of light that Wataru wants.

This dream was never about Eichi, and that's what makes it about him.

Since the day Wataru saved him, his love of idols has once again come back to life. Being able to make Wataru's dream come true was Eichi's desire all along.

He views that his wish is a bit too greedy, knowing that it will take a tedious process, but he won't stop, he has been in the darkness for too long. Now he wishes to see the light and get used to it so it won't blind him.

The wish to see Wataru shining like a star with his own two eyes. So Wataru, please don't hesitate, though I'm quite the greedy, I hope you'll be happy to see me, staying here with you, your happiness is my light.

"Connecting the precious time, we are the protagonists on this stage" "While blessed by countless stars, let us sing our never-ending dreams"

So some of you may not know about this but, interesting information: Both Eichi and Wataru, one ( or 99 times more ) admit that they're the villain of the stage.

Yes! BOTH.

Eichi was in pain and after the war, he admitted all the faults he had and told himself that he was the evil villain of the show, even long after the war ended, he still thought it that way.

Wataru is a bit different, the exact time was never mentioned, but clues are all over the place. Wataru admitted to Tomoya that he usually plays the role of villain. And, it made sense since Wataru passed constraint to him being asked to play tricks, he likes to do tricks and magic, but the people, they always ask for more.

Wataru was scared, but he continued anyway, he continued to learn new tricks, but that was not enough

He didn't go mad and start taking the role of a villain though, it was never clarified. But I don't think that was the case, not at all.

Wataru was more likely to take the role of villain because he wanted to step back and out of the light of the stage. Of course, he is still there, but not in a heroic way anymore. He didn't mean to but he wished people to look away from him more often than before, though, in the end, it was quite the opposite, he made friends and lots of people admitted him.

Even Wataru never expect this to happen. In the "Phantom Thieves VS Detectives" story, Epilogue 3, he said this: "But believe it or not, the amount of friends and acquaintances I've made since entering Yumenosaki Academy have surprisingly increased in size."

They're both villain in their own story, but later on, after many hardships and challenges, they learn and understand.

The two are no longer the villains but the protagonist, the protagonist of a story where they get to stand together on the stage.

And with the Fine now, they'll stand together, with Tori and Yuzuru, sing the never-ending symphony of their dreams.

Here comes, my favorite:

"Determination alone is futile, but you are there, the one who saved me is you" "Because your passionate gaze gives me the meaning of life"

Eichi literally went: "Only by trying is not enough, if not for you who had saved me from the darkness, I would've been gone." to Wataru.

Also about how Wataru gives him the biggest motivation to keep living and doesn't "kick the bucket" due to sickness or several suicidal attempts.

And, it ends with other lines got repeated:

"Let's take my hand because it's a miracle that I was able to meet you in the brightness" "And I hope to repose to that miracle of meeting you with my whole life ahead of me" "I want to connect all the sparkling moments and make you happy" "Ah, as long as I am allowed to live, let me give you happy dreams forever"

"Crystal Pleasure, let's burn some Crystal Pleasure into those eyes" "Crystal Pleasure, there's so many Crystal Pleasure, over and over again."

Alright, this is the end of part 1, Eichi's solo song. We'll now move to part 2, which I'll make in another post.

So I want you to know that I wrote this with all my heart that I pulled out of my chest. I love them from the bottom heart of my.

I don't need you to forgive Eichi or forget what he did in the past, this whole analysis was not made for that purpose, I just need you to understand that he did, in fact, lots of bad things in the past and he got his punish, it a punish to live on, to learn and suffer with the future. But Wataru was there, helping him out, so he's not that scare anymore.

If anyone ask me to tell them they're homo but without telling them they're homo, I'll show them this long a*s paragraph ( I'm so proud of myself for writing this but also asking myself that I should be out there making money instead...but I'm feeling great after written this so...maybe it not that bad )

THANK YOU FOR READING!

Part 2 will be coming out soon? I mean, I'll put the link in if I finish it...hopefully...

[bylertruther]

no cause the last anón is so right. I scrapped a 50k byler fic because I actually got worried people might call me weird or a freak like they do others. I was on twitter when the whole fiasco went down and it pissed me off but if you even tried to speak there were so many accounts saying you were “speaking over minors” and calling you a predator/pedophile. So many of my moots deactivated bc of the hate- they eventually started attacking people for their ages alone saying it was weird that 20 year olds theorized and talked about byler. Literally word for word “you’re a freak if you’re 20 and read byler fics. Why are you fantasizing about two little 14 year old boys making out” if they would take a step back and think that maybe people are so interested in this relationship is bc they see their younger selves in these two characters then maybe they wouldn’t say such stupid shit. Anyway sorry for ranting I just have been fuming since that whole thing happened. I just wish they would take a step back and stop and think about why they see a kiss between two boys written and immediately shout creep.

oh no, anon! i'm so sorry to hear about your fic & your experience. i hope you feel comfortable enough to post it one day, if you still want to. 🥺 and don't ever apologize for expressing yourself!

not to be a cunt, but i am a cunt, so, ahem. from the bottom of my heart... fuck them kids. 🫶 i literally do not give a single shit about any of the ""discourse"" they inflict on us all. "speaking over minors" why are you even speaking to begin with, huh? 🤨 why are you buzzing into an adult's space and picking a fight when a) literally no one fucking asked you to, and b) you're just going to cry "waaaaah but i'm a minorrr :(" as if you're somehow the victim in this situation after they dare to defend themselves against your serious and unsupported allegations? be normal or piss the fuck off and do your homework.

and why do people take them seriously? disregarding the fact that anyone of any age can be a shipper & the awful homophobia laced in such rhetoric...

this is the internet. no one owes you shit & the wild web will never, ever cater to you. you need to curate your own space and protect yourself. this is, like.. basic shit. like, bare-fucking-bones basic shit. it's not anyone else's responsibility but your own. they taught me that in school, my parents told me that, and also i have a functioning brain that can come to that conclusion, too. people need to stop pretending like what these people are asking for—which is your silence and your shame—is reasonable. it's not. content gets tagged, there are multiple extensions to blacklist any tags you don't like, some of it gets put behind a privacy wall, block buttons exist, many websites have filtering options, and so on and so forth. there are multiple measures people can take to both find things and avoid them. and a lot of the time, content is something you have to seek out yourself. so, if you don't like it, why did you click on it? why spend any time on it when you could've just backspaced? how is your ineptitude anyone else's problem?

also, people need to stop throwing the words pedophilia, pedophile, and predator around. you're being an insensitive jackass when you do that. someone writing about two fictional characters is not abusive scum of the fucking earth. you're watering those acts down and showcasing your ignorance for the world to see when you throw their names around carelessly. a child predator does awful, sinister, repulsive things to real life people who did not deserve that. someone writing a first kiss or practice kissing fic is not anywhere near that and i'm tired of people pretending like this is an okay thing to say or even think. just shut the fuck up and stop saying those words if you don't actually understand the gravity of what they mean.

another thing: a lot of these people aren't just kids. grown folk fall for the same shitty rhetoric, too. it's all just groupthink and herd mentality. no one wants to get attacked so they just repeat the same shit without thinking about it beyond "protecting" themselves (which is senseless as well because conditional acceptance is not true acceptance, but i digress). this fandom would be in a much better place if people were willing to stand their ground and defend their friends when this stuff happens. it gets worse and worse if you just turn a blind eye to it and fall in line. we're all waking up and finally seeing the consequences of that now.

of course, this doesn't really apply to when you're getting attacked by hundreds of people. that's... just shitty and hard and demoralizing. i'm not victim-blaming, because no one wants to be on the receiving end of that and i know that you can't control what others do.

my argument is that it gets to that point because the fandom as a whole just lets it slide by never holding the right people accountable for their actions. they allow the needless bullying to happen. they allow the rhetoric to get crazier and crazier. they allow people to get fucking crucified for shit that isn't even remotely inappropriate. they reblog posts they don't believe in because they don't want to be the odd one out and get accused of something by someone with more followers than them. it's just... we, as a whole, need to support each other more and put our foot down when shit like that starts happening.

it isn't normal. it isn't okay. it hasn't ever been okay.

like... i KNOW that you KNOW that it isn't weird for them to kiss, for people to want them to kiss, or for people to make them kiss in their creations. i KNOW that you KNOW that it isn't weird for anyone of any age to enjoy a love story of any kind. we know these things. some of us just pretend like we don't online for whatever fucking reason. and i don't get it! i don't get why they would do that and willingly allow this place to become worse for it. you don't get anything good out of that.

also, a lot of those people are being trolls. they get a kick out of attacking people as a group, because that's the only time they feel brave and the only way they get attention in life. they don't think before they say things, because they don't see you as a human being—you're just pixels on a greasy screen. they use catchy social justice lingo to make what they're saying sound like something you should support, but at the end of the day, they're literally just gussying up the same right-wing shit we've been subjected to for ages. it's regressive rhetoric that's clear to see once you've allowed yourself to see it.

like, i agree with you. i do. you're absolutely, undoubtedly right in what you say, but... i just can't bring myself to argue that, because it's in response to what was a senseless attack to begin with. and we shouldn't need to defend ourselves and our communities against what isn't true.

homophobia, bullying, and trolling are irrational, illogical pursuits and i can't stand the idea of treating them with any ounce of seriousness in this context. to apologize would be to accept their absurdity and validate their accusations—accusations we know in our heart of hearts to be incorrect and baseless. and i won't ever do that! i won't give them that satisfaction and i wish others wouldn't either.

they keep doing this, because they haven't met any opposition yet, because we keep acting like we have any reason at all to feel shame for wanting stories about people like us, about something as basic and universal as love and connection. they don't care about our reasons. they don't care about our defense of ourselves. it's not ever about us. this is their cry for attention, good or bad, at our expense and they need to be starved out already.

like.. this is just unsustainable. it's mind-boggling and i remember kicking and screaming about it months ago in what felt like an empty room. and look at where we are now! we're already at the point where you can't win in any kind of way no matter what you do. you can't age them up, you can't leave them as they are, you can't ship them if you're older than eighteen, you can't write AUs, you can't write canon compliance, you can't write canon divergence, you can't make them kiss, you can't make them anything more than friends but you also can't make them not-friends, etc etc. we've officially been shoved into the "fuck it, we ball" stage, because this is a pissy fandom and you are never going to please everyone so you may as well just do whatever the fuck you want.

i sound soooooooo unbearably preachy in this response lol, but like... literally... all we have is each other! we all love byler and we're all here to have fun and find like-minded people. we can't keep acting like this in-fighting lunacy is reasonable and just a difference of opinion, or like it's based in any kind of sense at all. we know that it's okay to ship byler at any age. we know that it's okay to have fun and enjoy ourselves. these people want to make us feel bad. they want to silence us. why let them and give them that satisfaction? why is what they want more important than us and our happiness? i hate the idea of anyone ever feeling any kind of shame or fear over something as innocent as this. i hate the idea of them winning by getting into any of our heads like that. i just hate it.

now, this last bit is specifically for you, anon, but it goes for everyone else, too: please, please, please, i am holding your hand in both of mine and begging you to not let anyone take away the things that you love and bring you joy or your wonderful creations that you've put so much of yourself into. i promise you that there will always be people who will see you, understand you, and cherish what you have to offer, and they are the ones that matter most (after you of course hehe). we all have to find our people and just go crazy together and block out everything else. that's the only way to get through this without getting burnt out. 💛💙

[backwzzds]

some of my witting icks:

i’ve been writing for almost 10 years and idc what anyone says, grammar & punctuation are VERYY important when writing. idcidc if i see u use “where” instead of “were” im clicking tf off the story bc we too mf grown for this now…i be letting “to” and “too” slide cuz it be beating some of yall ass but we have GOT to learn the proper “you’re” and “your” (yall favorite one to fuck up) and “where” “we’re” and “were.”

and lets be fr, if ur putting abbreviations in ACTUAL fics that arent text format (ie: tf for “the fuck” or wyd for “what you doing”) IT IRKS MEEEE AND I SEE THIS SHIT IN SO MANY AOT FICS LIKE THEY ARE NOT SPELLING OUT THESE WORDS WHEN THEY TALK JUST WRITE IT DOWN FULLY LORDDDD. if its not text/social media format, it looks ugly and incomplete im sorry 🧍🏾‍♀️🧍🏾‍♀️🧍🏾‍♀️

example: “tf are you looking at?” eren said with a balled fist.

don’t do that ^

ALSO PUNCTUATIONS. i thought we big enough to know that dialogue (anything a character says) goes in “ ” ???? whyyyy are yall writing these big ass paragraphs (another issue) w multiple people speaking AND NO DIALOGUE MARKS OR TAGS ???? now imma really click off this story cuz dpmo. remember that each time a new person/character speaks, ITS A NEW PARAGRAPH/LINE

ex:

“hey,” sasha said.

“hey did you go to the party?” mikasa asked.

connie kissed his teeth. “that party sucked ASS.”

it’s easier to let it slide on more casual posts/shitposts bc i dont even give a damn ab my punctuation like that when im shitposting…not unless the ‘ makes a difference between the intended word(s)

(ie: were & we’re, two VERY diff things)

sure, it’s “write however u want” but pls, let’s at least follow the international book of grammar and punctuation pls 😭 this is not me hating, this is not me shaming, this is me simply sharing knowledge bc i also used to make these mistakes until i learned better!!