#((she's longing for him; he's probably *really* having to restrain himself from lashing out at thaddeus in any way))

[theheadlessgroom]

https://www.tumblr.com/beatingheart-bride/713656790864232449/theheadlessgroom-beatingheart-bride

@beatingheart-bride

Gingerly, Randall took the mask from her, briefly taking a moment to look at it himself, seemingly briefly lost in thought. 

He both hated and loved his mask, this remaining thread connecting his past to his present: He’d had it for as long as he could remember, his one means of hiding his face from those around him (and he knew they would prefer it that way; the carnies were never shy about telling him to cover it up, were he to ever try and remove it around them). It also made for a more dramatic reveal in the eyes of the ringmaster, always declaring with a flourish, “I give you...the Devil’s Child!” before wrenching the mask away from his face, so that the people could get their money’s worth...

He looked the mask over in his thin, bony hands again, almost seeming to briefly toy with the notion of putting it back on: It was so odd not to wear it around someone...almost as odd as having someone tell him that they actually wished to see his face-his true face, no matter how hideous and horrifying it was...

Though the temptation was strong, Randall resisted the urge to put it back in its proper place, instead opting to prop it up beside the libretto-his stomach tightened as he did, jumping as he looked back up at the un-frightened Emily, smiling angelically at him, a smile he managed to return (albeit a little fainter) as he took a deep breath to calm himself. 

He had nothing to fear. Not with her. Never with her.

#((both of us; collectively: GET ON WITH IT!)) #((this scene would be SUCH a solid setup to a first kiss in ANY other story...but they have to wait six months before they get to that!)) #((but like you said better late than never! they'll get their kiss eventually and it will be SO cathartic as a result!)) #((and oh i KNOW the whole time they're apart emily is thinking of randall; wanting to be with him more than anything!)) #((she's longing for him; he's probably *really* having to restrain himself from lashing out at thaddeus in any way)) #((lest he further alienate emily; and he'll probably have to restrain himself from doing so much as trying to reach out to her)) #((after rehearsals to let her know what he thought; he's still very loyally attending all of them! he just can't give her feedback)) #((and tell her how wonderfully he thinks she's doing; which i think will just be another blow to them both in a lot ways!)) #((she's used to turning to him for feedback and he's used to giving it to her...and for a while that's just not an option!)) #((they're gonna miss hanging out after rehearsals in the attic; having dinner together; talking as they walk around the passageways)) #((spending time on the rooftop...it's gonna be a VERY lonely six months for them; full of pining after one another)) #((but at least it'll make their inevitable reunion all the sweeter!)) #outofhatboxes #beatingheart-bride #V:Phantasm of the Mansion

[chirpbudgie]

more digging through gidget’s brain. didn’t capitalize this one for fun meow

cws for: discussion of past trauma and it’s effects.

gidget, first and foremost, is a child.

in some unorthodox ways maybe, yes. he’s got perpetual baby-face and is shorter than most other stanleys. if you look close, he’s got freckles that make him appear especially boyish. his speaking has improved over time but still falls somewhere between a child’s lilt and a deaf accent. (who did he pick that up from, anyway? he refuses to tell.)

but also in the ways he smiles unabashedly, wholeheartedly. he doesn’t really laugh that often, but it’s visible in his eyes. and his eyes, he’s almost comically bad at lying, but will use his sad puppy-dog expression for evil. he’s really something else when he hides his brown eyes through his lashes. when it works, he always curls his fingers; it’s a stim less obvious than hand flapping and probably not good for his joints.

and his emotions are hard and fast and sometimes difficult to manage. he loves and he loves, no end in sight, almost to rival leigh. but he doesn’t go many weeks without tears, good or bad. (he cried for 10 minutes at the end of mary poppins.) every home he stays at, he leaves a trail of “drink water” sticky-note reminders, usually not from himself. he’s got a bad memory, okay?

the second is that gidget is traumatized.

and a lot more than it shows at first glance. he’s got some separation anxiety if you squint, regression and disassociation. and enough flinching to last a lifetime, if someone’s body or voice has even the possibility of frustration at him. (he’s gotten better with that, but bad days are bad days.)

he’s bashful, trying to learn how to accept compliments he’s never gotten before, hides his face with his hands, sometimes wiggles a little. loves being cared for, but too shy to admit it past a vague “that feels nice,” “thank you for dinner,” “can i sit with you?”

he won’t talk about his parable, often can’t handle jokes about it. it should have come up in therapy by now but he always shuts down trying to dig memories out from broken walls of repression. he hates how it bleeds into his life, swallowing him up at the sight of blurry faces or being called obedient, sometimes even small concrete rooms.

and the third is that gidget doesn’t get mad.

so it’s frightening, both for him and those around him when he is. it has a lot of bad ways to end. he can get huffy or frustrated, yes, but it’s very rare to see him truly angry. if you can tell from a distance, it’s already too late to calm him.

it’s like a really ugly tantrum. he thrashes and wails—it’s impossible for him to express thoughts—and almost always cries. they have to restrain him so he doesn’t hurt someone, usually himself; spencer has managed to hold him alone, but it’s much easier with two people. he’s not very strong by any means, but he’s got a habit of biting, and bite force is not to be reckoned with.

(he’s gotten free before. he was still thrashing when he hit the floor and almost knocked himself out.)

but they have a system that works, for the most part. the only thing they know for sure is that it happens when he’s overwhelmed for a long time. but when he’s worn himself out and is ready to listen, he takes deep breaths with whoever held him. they try to turn off his senses—dark room, earplugs, whatever—because his everything is still raw.

despite everything, he’s on the right path, dr. joy says. he needs to relearn how to be angry, even if he expresses it in some unorthodox ways right now. it’s a scary and overwhelming feeling, but not inherently bad. they can work on less destructive ways when they know he won’t bottle it up.

(she’s tried to provoke him to anger in their sessions. gidget always responds in fear, confusion, or distress. it’s been trained out of him like a dog that doesn’t bark. they’ve gotta take what they can get.)

if gidget ends up hurting someone during a meltdown, he’ll apologize and apologize. sometimes he’s got to be watched close for a few days to make sure he doesn’t try to distance himself, especially if it’s someone in the household.

(it’s because it reminds gidget of his narrator creator. he had mostly unpredictable rage, and gidget never wants to be like him. they could never be comparable, since the fellow is shit at actually apologizing, but children learn by example.)

#chirping #gidget rawts #repeat and write this story #holds him gentle like hamburger. #:car salesman: this baby can fit so much emotions except for the ones hes not allowed to #DROPS THIS AND RUNS

[anderstrevelyan]

No pressure ask: share a detail about Garrett/Anders that you don't feel like you get to talk about enough. (It could be a fluffy headcanon, a fleeting moment, their favorite/least favorite thing about each other, anything goes!)

Ahh thanks for the ask, @mxanigel! I think I want to talk about the importance of names in their relationship, since I think about it a lot and play with it in writing but I feel like I've never fully articulated it?

(This is going to be a bit of an essay with WRITING EXAMPLES, including unpublished ones, apologies/buckle in, I guess)

Anders of course doesn't use his given name, but for Garrett he clings to his—since he was taken to the Circle so young, he doesn't remember a time before, or anything about his family, so for him "Amell" is an anchor, a clue, something that ties him to where he came from and the belonging he longs for. "Garrett," too, as something chosen for him that connects him to his family line (which is why I picked Garrett for him, actually! Since out-of-universe it's a name everyone associates with the Hawkes/Amells for obvious reasons).

This intensifies after the Blight, when he starts to feel buried under the weight of being seen as just the "Hero of Ferelden." He's lonely, he's sad, he's really, really wants someone to see him as Garrett. This is from his first pov chapter in Awakening:

She’s beautiful, he notices, droplets in her lashes and a flush in her cheeks as she steals glances up at him, and maybe he would have tried to flirt back if it were still a few months ago. With his friends gone and his bed unmistakably empty, not even a dog to warm his feet, he’d had no trouble finding companions willing to spend an evening absolutely anywhere else, but—

“I’m sorry, I must sound ridiculous,” Mhairi’s saying with a quick laugh. “It’s just, you’re such a hero.”

He can barely restrain the pinch in his face at the word anymore, that title affixed so strongly it’s all anyone sees. The last man had even forgotten his name, saying with a sheepish grin as he pulled on his trousers, Well, nice to meet you, Hero. He can’t remember the last time someone looked into his eyes and saw him, saw Garrett. Eventually he settled for empty sheets and the company of demons whispering to him each night in the Fade; at least they don’t care about the story—they only want him for his power, and that’s something he’s had a lifetime of practice being reduced to. 

At first, that person isn't Anders. Anders calls him Amell, referring to him that way throughout his pov chapters for quite a while, and that's reflective of distance between them.

(At the same time, he calls himself Garrett throughout his own pov chapters; Jowan calls him Garrett; Irving clearly thinks of him as Garrett, too, referring to him as Amell in a formal classroom setting but casually calling him just Garrett when he's speaking to Anders. When Alistair, who Garrett has a strained, complicated relationship with post-Blight, appears at the start of Awakening, there's a line that makes it clear he used to call him Garrett but now refers to him as Amell.)

But as they grow closer, Garrett works up the nerve to ask him to switch. He's not great at expressing his feelings, so he doesn't articulate why, so it's subtle enough that Anders probably doesn't register this moment as a big deal to him. But that he immediately accepts it and starts calling him Garrett from here on out—that means everything to Garrett. (Also I can't wait to spend more time working on these later chapters, so I can stop flipping back and forth on how he's referred to in-narrative based on whose pov I'm in, but anyway!):

As soon as he’s out of earshot, Garrett sighs. “I hate it when he calls me that.” 

Anders, perched languidly on the uncomfortable bench beside him, looks up from his book. “You mean you’re not lapping up the luxuries of leadership, Amell? I always had you pegged as future First Enchanter.”

“Maker, I never would have said yes to that. I hate politics.” And he really does, he realizes, staring at the work still ahead, suddenly very grateful for the company of the mage by his side. 

“Says the arl!” 

“The very reluctant arl.” He pauses, hesitates, glances over at him. “You can call me Garrett, you know.”

“Okay. Garrett, then.” Anders sets the book down and rests his chin in his hands. “I’m bored, Garrett.”

To Anders, on the other hand, his own name becomes all about choice. Distancing himself from pain in his past—escaping from it. Once they're in a relationship, Garrett doesn't really understand that, since to him his name is who he is, so he's a little worried when he realizes he doesn't know Anders' "real" name.

“Oh, I remember it. I just haven’t said it out loud since…well, you know.”

“Would you ever tell anyone?”

“You mean you.”

“I mean me. I’m just curious. I feel like I know everything else about you.”

“I don’t think so.” He’d normally leave it there, but at the expression that ghosts across Garrett’s face, he finds himself rushing to put it into words. “It started as a way to hold on to something. Something they couldn’t take. If that was still how I felt, I’d…I’d let you hold that, too.” The way Garrett looks at him, eyes a little wide, brings a burn to his cheeks, and he looks away. “But I’m not him anymore.”

“I understand.” And Garrett brings his gaze back, laying a hand on his arm.

He leans in to his touch, but pivots away with his words. Tries to, at least. “Maybe I’ll even get to keep this one. That would be something, wouldn’t it?”

Which brings me to why much further in the future—after Garrett's grown from mourning the family life that was stolen from him to focusing on creating one for himself—it's everything to me when Garrett asks Anders if he wants to be an Amell, too.

That anchor that's always meant the very picture of family to him, an essential part of himself: he's finally getting to share it. And the fact that it's with Anders, who's never retained a name for tradition's sake, that he's choosing to make it his own—makes it all the more meaningful.

#garrett amell #anders #dragon age fanfiction #my writing #on writing #this is a very self-indulgent post I AM LIVING #I never know how obvious this kind of stuff feels in the writing itself so it's fun to lay it all out

[fweasleyswhore]

Commitments - Smut

pairing: Oliver Wood, Fred Weasley, George Weasley x fem!reader (no incest just sharing)

a/n: I would like to do a pt 2 to this because I just have so much more I can fit into this dynamic and I like it (hornhee disease really takin over)

word count : 4.9k

warning: smut, 18+ themes, face fucking (male recieving), oral and fingering (female recieving), unprotexted sex -wrap before you tap kids-, choking, dom/sub themes, slight bdsm themes, subby reader, titles are given, its pure filth, friends with benefits relationship

mature readers only, this has heavier themes in it and i only want people who are completely ok with those themes reading

My head pounded and my stomach growled. It was the first feeling I registered as I opened my eyes. I was cold, hungry, and in pain. I blinked a few times, pulling my head up from its position on the table where I had been napping. I focussed my eyes on my unfinished potions essay. Groaning I rubbed my eyes. Not only did I not finish it, but I also fell asleep. It was due in two days and I had barely started. I still needed to-

Quidditch Practice. The potions essay fell to the depths of my mind as I scoured the library walls for a clock. Unsuccessful in finding one, I decided I was probably only late. Shoving my papers into my bag I ran out of the library, ignoring wandering stares from students I made my way to the changing rooms.

The door flung open and slowed down for the first time, panting slightly I made it over to the lockers, ready to get out my equipment. I picked up my shaky hands to do the combination when a voice interrupted me.

“I wouldn’t bother,” Oliver spoke. Based on the volume of his voice and the slight temperature change in the air, he was right behind me. Pulling my bottom lip between my lip I turned around, his toned chest was dripping, a towel hung low on his hips and his hair was ruffled slightly and damp. Our bodies were merely inches apart and I could see the anger in his eyes as I looked up at him.

 “Ollie…” I tried but my nickname for him only caused an annoyed look to grace his features.

“Don’t,” His voice was stern and it made me feel cold. “You knew how important practice was today but you skipped anyway. We play Slytherin in two days! Where were you? Giving our play strategies to Adrian Pucey probably.” He rolled his eyes and walked next to me. He turned his attention to his locker, presumably to get clothes as I was left there with my mouth feeling dry and a ball of guilt in my stomach replacing my hunger.

“I fell asleep in the library, I don’t have an excuse,” I spoke truthfully and watched my hands as I spoke afraid to meet his gaze. “I haven’t been sleeping well lately and I dozed off. I really am sorry.”

He sighed and I wished at that moment I could crawl inside myself and disappear. “L/N, I don’t play favorites, you know this, but you are an essential part of this team. In this practice, we were working in groups, Fred George and I practically sat there the entire time because you were missing from our group. The other chasers were running well-needed drills and we had devised a strategic plan that would push not only you but the three of us too and you weren’t there. Today’s practice was a waste of time for us.” His words hurt me, they were filled with anger and it wasn’t a feeling he had ever directed at me.

“Ollie I truly am so sorry. I know this and I wish there was anything I could do to make it up to you. I know how stressed you are about the game, I just, I’m so sorry.” I finally looked up and he was facing me again, his locker forgotten. He was close to me again, his body heaved as he breathed heavily.

“Stress relief?” He asked, causing me to furrow my brows. Before I could ask him what he meant he spoke again. “You are right, I am stressed, that’s why I’m asking if you will help me with stress relief.”

I nodded understandably. I couldn’t fight the smile that found its way to my face as I realized what he was asking for. “You want me to massage your shoulders Wood?” I asked teasingly. He let out a short breath before taking a step forward. He toward over me, our chests almost flush as his hand caressed my cheek. His touch was sending shivers down my spine and butterflies to erupt in my stomach. Oliver was a good friend of mine, I always left my lingering eyes on him for too long but never admitted my feelings for him. I wasn’t sure if they were real feelings or pure lust. Being on the quidditch team I was never sure if I liked him or seeing his half-naked body as he ran down drills.

“Not what I had in mind,” I bit my lip as the nerves began to build up. His hand trailed down my cheek and under my jaw which he grasped semi firmly, pulling my face up to his. Our lips met in a messy heated kiss. I gasped into his mouth as my hand found its way to his neck pulling him closer to me. His legs parted my own and he pushed his hips flush against mine. An unintentional moan slipped from my mouth at the contact but that didn’t stop him, if anything it fueled his motions. He took the opportunity to slip his tongue into my mouth, it was a short fight that he quickly won. He pulled away suddenly, my face remained in his grip, the stern hand he had on my face caused my lips to part slightly. I looked up at him, blinking my lashes and grinding my hips softly onto his leg that was positioned in between my legs.

“I want this but I need to know you do too.” His voice was usually cheery but now it was stern and low, a side of him I had never seen and god I wished I did sooner. I pushed my hips down with more force, the friction finally hitting where I need it most and I moaned.

“Godric, yes Oliver, yes, yes, yes.” His gaze was cold and his face didn’t change when I gave my answer, instead he pushed his thigh harder into me, adding pressure I didn’t know I needed. “Fuck.” I whimpered shutting my eyes.

“Tsk, Tsk,” He tutted, pulling my eyes open I looked up at him. “If you continue to have a dirty mouth like that I’ll fill it up. Understood?” Growing wetter at his words I nodded feverishly. “Words darling.” He pushed his thigh into me harder. I let out a short breath, trying to compose myself.

“Y-Yes Sir.”

“Good girl. Keep being good maybe I will forget about the punishment I had planned for your absence.” I let out a whimper at his praise, the promise of punishment striking my core, had he thought of this before? He smirked down at me as I began to rut my hips against his thigh. Occasionally he would pull his leg back causing me to whine only to push it back with more force than before causing my legs to lose feeling as the pleasure built up. We were so wrapped up in our display we didn’t hear the two prominent footsteps grow closer until they were right next to us.

“Bloody hell.” Geroge’s voice interrupted. I opened my eyes and pulled Oliver against me to shield myself, in doing so I could feel the prominent bulge that formed under his not so restraining towel. “We heard Y/N came to the locker room and Fred and I were half sure you were killing her, not…” He trailed off and I watched as his eyes looked me up and down, my hair was no doubt a mess and Oliver’s leg was still in between mine applying a wonderful but also horrible pressure to my clit.

“Glad you’re not dead Y/N, but if getting off is what you wanted you could have always just come to my dorm,” Fred spoke from beside George. Leaning against the other row of lockers he looked significantly more comfortable than George, his trademark smirk plastered his face and his eyes kept flickering to where Oliver’s leg was positioned. I grew hot at his words as I looked between the twins. My eyes flickered up to Oliver who was giving both boys, especially Fred, a hard glare. Before I could protest Oliver’s hand found my hip and he pushed my hips into his thigh, pulling me forward into a rocking motion. I reacted by throwing my head back and letting out a moan, the feeling was too good to hide it. I didn’t let myself get too lost in the pleasure as I remembered our audience. Pulling my head back I eyed the boys with half-lidded eyes. Oliver was still guiding my hips against his thigh, his eyes were trained on my face as I whimpered trying to blink and focus on what was happening, my brain was fighting not wanting to stop but also worried about Fred and George’s presence.

Fred’s eyes were wide and hungry, he was still leaning against the lockers but his eyes were trained on the way my body moved. George was too watching, he took his brother’s stance, leaning on the lockers next to me. I could see two significant tents forming in both of their trousers, George’s hand slid into his pocket and he silently palmed himself at my display.

Seeing that they were enjoying themselves I let my worries dissipate, throwing my head back I moved my hips in time with Oliver’s guiding hands. Oliver ducked his head and began sucking on my neck. Rutting my hips faster I became more vocal, Fred and George let out small grunts here and there that I assume was due to their hands work which only egged on my ministrations. Soon enough the feeling became too overwhelming to bear, my legs began to shake and my breathing was becoming labored. “Ollie please, I need to-” My words were cut short as Oliver harshly nipped at my neck causing me to gasp.

“That’s not my name.” He whispered in my ear. I felt his arms stop their guidance slowing me down.

“Please Sir, please let me cum.” I begged submissively, not worried about the whine in my voice but rather the orgasm that was so close which was starting to vanish.

His hands grasped my hips with a different purpose now and he brought me back to the same speed that had me whimpering and moaning a few seconds ago.

“What do you think guys? Shall we let Y/N cum? Has she earned it?” I snapped my eyes open looking between the three boys frantically, letting out whines as Oliver applied more pressure with his thigh.

“I’m not sure she has,” Fred spoke up, he had a drunken look of hunger that made me shiver.

“I don’t think so.” George agreed.

“What a shame,” Oliver said looking down at me. “Guess you have to wait, darling.” With those few words, he held my hips firm and removed his thigh from me. I wouldn’t be surprised if his thigh had gotten wet through my trousers but I was too upset to be concerned with that at the moment. I whined lightly at the loss of contact and tried to stabilize my shaky legs.

“How can I earn it?” I looked between the boys who all adorned with wide grins. When I got no response I decided to push a little. “If you don’t tell me I’ll just get myself off.” All three boys lost their grins, not completely but their eyes went dark at my words, and they stood up straighter, they watched my hands as they trailed down to my trousers, popping the button.

“Brats don’t get rewards,” George said softly from next to me. His hand grasped mine and halted my motions, his grip was iron tight as he looked down at me. I angled my body so I was facing him, with my free hand I cupped him through his trousers.

“Then tell me what to do, sir.” I looked up at him with the most innocent face I could muster, cocking my head to the side slightly. I’m sure the markings on my neck from Oliver ruined the innocent facade a little bit but watching George swallow hard and breathe heavily through his nose was enough to tell me it was working.

“On your knees, now.” His voice was firm and it sent shivers down my spine as I sunk to my knees. My face was level with George’s clothed cock, I placed my hands behind my back and looked up at him waiting for permission. He brought his hand down, pulling my head up from my chin, he swiped my bottom lip with his thumb. “Go ahead, sweetheart.”

I smiled at the name, undoing his pants with ease I heard a slight groan as I pulled them down freeing his erection a bit. He was big, much bigger than I’ve had before. I tried to swallow my nerves as I pulled him out and stroked him slowly. I wrapped my lips around his tip, circling the tip with my tongue that elicited a moan from above me. I smiled and began to take him, or as much as I could. He hit the back of my throat before I got to his base, I gagged lightly and began to bob my head, stroking what was left with my hand. I felt a foreign hand in my hair, straining my eyes I looked up to see Oliver pulling some strands of my hair back. I rubbed my thighs together my arousal building to extreme heights.

“Fuck,” George moaned. He pulled out enough so his tip rested against my lips. “Do you think you can take all of me?” I stroked him slowly as I thought to myself.

“Will it get me my reward,” I asked in a sweet tone. He opened his mouth to reply so I kitten licked his tip, twisting my wrist as I continued to pump him. His words were cut off by a sharp intake of breath as he hissed.

“Definitely, and if you stop being a brat it will probably get you two.” I smiled at his response and pulled back my hand, opting to rest both of them on my thighs. Opening my mouth I relaxed my jaw and stuck my tongue out. George took his dick and slapped my tongue with it a few times.

“Such a good girl, so ready for me aren’t you, whore?” He asked with a devilish smirk. I nodded and let out a small involuntary whine at his words.

“Such a little slut, you’re gonna let him use you like that?” Fred asked. He walked over, his dick now free from its restraints he pumped it slowly. He ran his fingers through my hair, grabbing it tightly and pulling my head back to face him, his harshness made me whine and I squeezed my thighs together, growing wetter. “You like this don’t you? Such a dirty girl.” He let go of my hair and my head fell forward, George’s dick slapping my cheek lightly in the process.

“Our dirty girl.” Oliver praised smoothing my hair. I smiled before opening my mouth again, making eye contact with George to let him know I was ready. He smiled and slid in slowly, I wrapped my mouth around him and tried to maintain my composure as he began to slide down my throat. I gagged lightly which caused him to groan and go deeper. I breathed out through my nose as my eyes began to well up, I closed them and focussed on keeping my throat open for him.

Suddenly I felt a hand on my thigh, opening my eyes, blinking some tears away. I could make out Fred smiling as he kneeled next to me. I shut my eyes spreading my legs for him. He dipped his hand into my trousers tracing my lips from outside my panties. I moaned at the contact around George making him groan.

“You’re getting off on this aren’t you, completely soaked for us,” Fred whispered in my ear pushing my panties to the side. I moaned again which caused George to pick up his pace. I was gagging and tears were streaming down my face but I was enjoying it so much. Fred circled my clit with his nimble fingers making me gag and moan more but I didn’t care. George’s thrusts were becoming erratic and I knew he would come soon. Purposely swallowing around him caused him to meet his end. He buried his dick inside of my throat, my nose pressed up against his abdomen I moaned, swallowing his cum that shot down my throat. He pulled out of me, a trail of spit followed connecting us until it broke, slapping against my chin. Panting, I gasped for air and leaned my head on Fred’s shoulder. Fred picked his speed up on my clit causing me to yell out his name. He continued his brutal pace and I felt my orgasm catching up to me yet again.

“Please, George,” My words were cut off by a moan and I jerked my head back. “Please I’m going to cum I need your permission.” Fred was chuckling in my ear from my desperation but I couldn’t care right now. My legs were shaking and my abdomen was cramping up as I continued to fight it off.

George knelt in front of me, grabbing my neck with a strong hand he pulled my head forward. I fought against my body to open my eyes and look at him. “Cum for us, cum like the whore you are.” As he spoke he increased the pressure on my neck. My eyes rolled back as my orgasm washed over me, I shook violently, screaming out I felt myself release. Fred didn’t stop his fingers, they continued his brutal pace and his smirk grew as I began to shake from overstimulation.

“Good whore.” Fred whispered pulling his hand away from my core. I leaned back against Oliver’s leg and watched as Fred sucked his fingers clean. Oliver looked down at me with his dark eyes, filled with lust and hunger. Fred linked his arm around my waist and pulled me up. We walked over to a bench at the end of the row of lockers, he laid me down on my back. I giggled to myself watching him struggle to pull my trousers off. My laughter was cut short as he landed a short slap to my bare pussy, I moaned at the harsh contact.

“Don’t be a brat.” He warned and I nodded. I pulled my shirt off and unhooked my bra. Fred inserted a finger inside of me, slowly he began to pump in and out before adding another one, I moaned at the light stretch as he pumped faster, curling them to hit my G-spot.

“Such pretty moans.” George praised. He was knelt beside me and began to massage my breasts. I gasped as he began to suck on my nipple. Pulling my hands up I ran my fingers through his hair. Oliver stood on my other side, he was slowly pumping his cock at the scene below him. I felt Fred pull his fingers out and I whined at the loss. Fred spit directly onto my clit, I felt the liquid drip down and mix with my own juices.

“Spread your legs for me, darling,” I did as he said and opened my legs for him. “So pretty, princess, are you ready for me?”

“Yes, please,” I whined out. George was now attacking my neck, sucking and nipping at the sensitive flesh that took my breath away. I stopped breathing completely as Fred pushed into me. Slowly he filled me to the hilt, he had to be the same size as George. I felt him bump my cervix when his hips met mine. My mouth was open in a silent scream as he let out a slow groan. He stayed there for a moment, letting me get used to the stretch that came with his impressive size. When he felt me relax he began to slowly thrust in and out of me.

“Faster, fuck, please faster.” I moaned out. He quickly obliged by setting a ruthless pace that had my brain cloudy with the pleasure I was feeling. Oliver leaned down, kissing me roughly, our teeth clashed due to my shaking from Fred’s pace but that didn’t stop either of us.

“Such a whore, putting this show on for me, is this supposed to make me forgive you?” He asked, one of his hands trailed down my torso, he left feather-light touches on my breasts.

“Y-Yes all for you.” I struggled out. He suddenly pinched my nipple, pulling it lightly causing me to moan out loudly.

“Hm, all for me? You let them down too, it’s not very kind if it’s all for me now is it?” I nodded in agreement unable to speak as Fred propped my leg onto his shoulder, the new angle intensifying the pleasure I was feeling. “What are we going to do about that then?” Oliver asked.

I opened and closed my mouth like a fish out of water. I couldn’t conjure up a sentence much less a viable answer that would satisfy him as my orgasm steadily approached.

“What a shame, it looks like I will have to punish you after all.” He whispered in my ear. I moaned at his words. Fred continued to hit that spot deep inside me that sent me closer to heaven and hell at the same time.

“I need to, please, I-” My words drowned out into a moan as Fred thrust harder.

“You need to cum, slut?” Fred asked, words spaced out with his thrusts. His hair was dripping with sweat, his chest was glistening with sweat, somewhere in the process he had lost his shirt.

“Yes, yes please!” I begged.

I could hear the smirk on his face as he replied. “Cum for me princess.” My second orgasm washed over me. My legs shook and I tightened my walls, screwing my eyes shut I let out a long moan as Fred continued to pump in and out of me, riding out my orgasm. His hips began to slow and he stopped, flush against me I felt his dick twitch, shooting long ropes of cum painting my insides.

Fred’s hands rubbed up and down my thighs, soothing their shaking. He kissed my knee and unhooked my leg from his shoulder, gingerly pulling out, I whined feeling sensitive and empty at the loss. Fred walked to the side of me, replacing Oliver who was now out of sight. He kneeled beside me and stroked my hair. “You did so good.” He praised.

George hummed softly, his head rested on my stomach under my breast where he was leaving soft kisses earlier beforehand. “Such a pretty slut for us.” He added.

“She may be pretty but that’s not going to make up for what she did.” Oliver said, he was circling his hands on my thighs, his towel now long forgotten, his erection was prominent and it prodded my legs as they shook. His tip was red and needy with precum, I could only assume how much it ached.

“Hm and what did she do?” Fred asked, feigning confusion, a slight smirk on his lips. Oliver had a smile playing on his lips as his hands trailed toward my core. He started to tease my folds, rubbing around spreading the shared release between me and Fred everywhere except my throbbing clit.

“She skipped practice, you know that.” Oliver growled.

“I didn’t mean to-” I trued but Oliver suddenly slapped my pussy, the harsh contact with my clit made me moan.

“You skipped.” He said sternly. I took that as a signal to shut up so I nodded, feeling the excitement buzz in my veins. My pussy throbbed in anticipation as his fingers ghosted over my entrance and up to my clit.

“Hm, I didn’t think about that, should I have punished you princess?” Fred asked. Before I could answer George attached his lips to my nipple, he lapped it and bit it lightly causing me to gasp. He pulled off with a pop, grinning.

“I should have bent you over my knee, showed you who you belong too.” George purred, he trailed up so his breath fawned over the shell of my ear. “Would you have liked that sweetheart? Being so marked and bruised you can’t sit straight? Everytime you sit down you will be reminded of the little whore you are for us, how you bent over willingly, swallowed my cock and came on Freddies fingers. You would like that wouldn’t you?” His voice was deep and it sent shivers through me and took the air from my lungs.

“I think she likes that George.” Oliver said grinning. “Shes practically dripping.” Suddenly he inserted two fingers into me, pumping at a relentless pace. Sounds of squeltching filled the air as he began to hit that spot inside of me, over and over again. I screwed my eyes shut feeling blissed out as George nipped my ear whispering small taunts while massaging my breasts, Fred on my other side whispering praise and playing with my hair.

“You like being used don’t you?” Geroge would ask, licking the shell of my ear.

“Such a good girl, you gonna moan princess?” Fred would add, kissing my cheek.

They continued the process until I was a writhing mess. I was about to ask for permission to cum when Oliver wrapped his lips around my clit, sucking and flicking it with his tongue that just sent me over the edge. I came for a third time, shaking crying out, I felt a few tears fall from eyes as he didn’t slow down until I was convulsing and my eyes were rolled back in my head. Oliver pulled back and I gasped for air now that I was given a slight break. Suddenly he slammed into me, his dick stretched me in a delicious way. I yelped at the sudden contact. He didn’t give me time to adjust like Fred, instead he pulled out nearly all the way before slamming back into me.

“O-Ollie.” I moaned out throwing my head back.

“What do you call me?” He growled, slapping my clit lightly and thrusting in forcefully. He halted his motions for a moment, grinding his hips into me and it felt heavenly.

“I’m sorry Sir! Please keep going!” I whined.

“Good girl.” Oliver praised pulling out an slamming back into me. He continued his relentless pace, slapping my clit and tits, pinching my nipples, occasionally leaning over to nip at my leg. I alternated between kissing Fred and George who whispered dirty things to me and swallowed the moans I left in their mouths. I felt Oliver speed up and I felt yet again that I was teetering on the edge.

“Sirs, please I need to cum,” I whined looking between all three boys. Fred and George nodded with cheeky grins and my gaze fell forward to Oliver between my legs. Oliver grabbed my hip with one hand, reaching down and grabbing my neck with the other in grip that could bruise.

“Cum then, cum on my dick slut.” Oliver grunted tightening his grip on my neck. I gave in, letting go and cumming harder than I have before. I let go, squirting onto his torso. Oliver kept pumping into me riding out my orgasm until he pulled out, cumming on my pussy, throwing white ropes on my glistening cunt. I was breathless and lightheaded, Oliver let go of my neck, my head fell back against the bench and I panted. Oliver spread my legs whistling lowly to himself.

“So pretty.” He muttered before ducking his head down and running a long stripe up my folds with his tongue. I jolted at the feeling, my body spasming as his tongue hit my clit. I felt him suck lightly and I whined. That’s when he pulled his head up, and leaned over me, his lips were in a tight line and his body caged me. He took one of his hands and placed two fingers on my chin, applying light pressure signaling for me to open my mouth. I did, sticking my tongue out as I made eye contact with him. He spat our combined juices into my mouth, some of it getting on my chin. He used his thumb to lap it up, wiping it on my tongue.

“Swallow it.” He commanded. I did as I was told, opening my mouth to show him when I was done. “Good slut.” He praised.

“Beautiful.” George added.

“Breathtaking.” Fred quipped. I felt my cheeks heat up at their praise.

“T-Thank you.” I said timidly. Oliver smiled, it was his usual soft smile that made me melt. He stood up, offering a hand I gladly took and stood with him on my shaky legs. I slipped slightly and George stood on my side grabbing my hip. I felt Fred’s gentle hand on my back offering his support should I need it.

They cleaned me up, offering support and praise every second of the way. The game with Slytherin went well, Gyrffimdor won by a landslide, and once again we found ourselves in the locker room together celebrating.

#fred and george #fred weasley #weasleys wizard wheezes #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley fanfiction #george weasley #fred weasley fluff #weasley twins #harry potter #fred weasley fic #george weasley x reader #fred weasley x reader smut #george weasley x reader smut #george weasley smut #george weasley imagine #fred weasley imagine #oliver wood x reader smut #oliver wood x reader #oliver wood smut #oliver wood #oliver wood fluff #george weasley fluff #george weasley fic #oliver wood fic #oliver wood fanfiction #harry potter characters #harry potter character smut #harry potter fanfiction #hc #smut

[comfortwriting]

Untouchable - F.W

Masterlist, Requesting Rules, Writing Prompt list

Fred Weasley x Fem Reader

Prompt 42: He sneaked his arms around your waist and kissed your neck, staring at the man across the room, hoping he would notice you were unavailable.

Requested/About: Another 7th year student has spiked an interest in Fred’s girlfriend and won’t give up on trying to prove himself to her, Fred notices and makes sure everyone knows she’s his.

Warnings: Swearing, mention of food and eating.

“You’d think you were being served for breakfast with the way he looks at you” George muttered, taking a bite out of his toast.

You sighed and looked down the table, the familiar 7th year kept staring at you, breaking out into a smile when you met his gaze, waving at you.

Turning back around you shook your head and took a sip of your juice, trying your best to ignore his eyes burning into the side of your face.

Placing the goblet back on the table you wiped the corner of your mouth with your sleeve “he’s been hitting on me each time he walks past, winking at me and that”

“who is he anyway?” George asked “bloody weirdo” he flicked through the paper trying to find funny jokes or word about his upcoming business. 

“Evan” you muttered “moved here a year or so ago”

George looked over to the lad and glared at him “I’ll spike his drink with some pastilles-”

“spike who with what, Georgie?” Fred butted in, waltzing towards the table. 

You quickly shot George a look, similar to the one he gave to Evan down the table, you shook your head at him. Sitting down, Fred placed his arm around you and pulled you close to him.

“Morning love” he said softly,  kissing your head.

You felt safer now that Fred arrived, you were hoping that deep down inside Evan would see Fred’s affection and be put off you - going after someone else who was available. 

“Professor Snape” George replied, faking a grin. 

Fred quickly stuffed his face, being late to breakfast he only had five or so minutes until first class. 

“What’s he done this time?” Fred asked, mouth full of cereal.

“Oh, nothing yet” you replied “we’ll see what exam results I get first.”

You and Fred walked out of the dungeons, each of you balling your test results in your fists, crumpling the paper into a ball, your free hands laced together. 

“He’s getting more than puking pastilles after this bloody result” Fred hissed “mum’s gonna go mental.”

You opened your mouth to say something until Evan and his group of friends walked past, you didn’t ignore him fast enough and accidentally caught his gaze, Evan waved at you and winked - pushing past in front of you.

“Love your hair, beautiful.” He called out.

You put your head down and stared at your shoes, continuing to walk to your next class, hoping Fred was too angry to notice. 

“What was that about?” Fred stopped in his tracks, pulling you back beside him “Y/N?”

“I don’t know” you replied, feeling your pulse elevate “I’ve never seen him before”

Fred looked behind him, Evan and his group of friends disappearing into halls, he placed his arm back around you and walked with you down the corridor. 

“has he been bothering you, love?” Fred asked, concern ringing in his voice.

You wanted to tell the truth, to have your boyfriend be your knight in shining armour - but at the same time, you wanted to handle things yourself, you didn’t want to be shielded or put more pressure on him. 

Staying silent for a moment, you chewed on your lip and lied “no, I don’t know him - he’s probably got me confused with someone else.”

Fred let out a laugh and rolled his eyes, the two of you now meeting up with George. 

“you? mixed up with someone else? impossible, you’re that gorgeous you stick out like Harry’s scar” Fred kissed your head again, turning to George “ready for Quidditch then?”

George nodded “will you be coming to watch, Y/N?” 

Evan walked past again, kitted out in his Quidditch gear and shooting daggers at your boyfriend. 

“what is his problem?” Fred muttered.

“He’s on your team?” you mouthed to George, his face dropping.

George shrugged “I didn’t know! He’s probably standing in for someone else...” he mouthed back.

Fred continued to stare at the back of Evan’s head, gripping his wand in his pocket. You pulled at his arm, hugging him before taking off to your last class.

No matter how much you tried, you couldn’t focus on anything that spewed out of Trelawney’s mouth, you say at the back of her class with your head in your hands - just wanting to disappear.

“It’s no good lying my dear” Trelawney mumbled, walking over to you “the truth is going to come out before you can stop it!”

You shook your head and bit down on your tongue, forcing an upcoming outburst back down your gullet. Bunching your hands into fists you stood up and stormed out, ignoring the whispers behind you.

Lunch came and went, you couldn’t eat, you stared at your plate feeling so anxious the smell of food made you feel nauseous - it didn’t help sitting at the table alone, your boyfriend and his brother playing through lunch and into their last class of the day.

You piled up your books and sat in the Gryffindor common room, flicking through each one, trying to memorise something to help the time fly by.

Like you, Fred couldn’t concentrate much either. Throughout the entire game George had to restrain his brother from lashing Evan, wether he was aiming for him on purpose or insulting him as he passed by.

“He’s up to something that one” Fred glared, wiping the mud off his shirt.

Evan and his friends walked off the pitch, laughing and talking amongst themselves while they went to get freshened up and dressed; Fred and George following not too far behind.

“He isn’t worth it, Freddie, Y/N says—“

Fred turned to face his brother “She knows him? So he’s been bothering her for a long time?”

George sighed and scrunched his eyes shut for a moment. Realising he let slip of something you were trying so hard to hide would cause so much trouble - but he couldn’t lie to his twin, even if he tried it would be obvious.

“Yeah, she told me this morning” George replied quietly “not sure how long for but he’s really into her.”

Fred started to storm towards Evan, his expression filled with fury. George grabbed the back of his brothers shirt and pulled him back, holding him to the side.

“Don’t start this, Freddie.” He warned him “I know you’re pissed but we’ve got two months left here, we cannot get expelled, especially because this involves Y/N - the outcome of her future is determined here.”

Fred gritted his teeth and nodded, he couldn’t utter a word - afraid he would lash out. He and his brother walked back inside, getting freshened up for the evening.

Hearing the door slam, you turned around to see Evan enter the now crowded common room, you turned back around and slumped in your chair, burying your head in your book so he couldn’t see you.

Behind him came another slam but this time your heart finally calmed down upon hearing the sound of your boyfriends voice, chatting with his brother, making their way over to you.

“Feeling like a bookworm today?” Your boyfriend called out, standing next to you.

You smiled slightly and closed your book, placing it back into your back that sat beside your feet on the floor.

“Just revising the odd bit or two” you replied, staying sat down, looking into your boyfriends gorgeous eyes.

Fred stared back into your eyes, staying quite for a moment, appearing to be in deep thought.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He asked, taking hold of your hand.

You looked over at George, he mouthed an apology and walked away - most likely to avoid a brewing argument or a scold from you.

“I thought I could handle it, I didn’t want you to go causing any trouble-“

Fred sighed, encouraging you to stand up.

“You’re my girlfriend, Y/N, I want to protect you when you need it.”

You chewed on your lip and nodded, Evan in the background talking to his friends, flicking through the newspaper.

Fred looked over his shoulder and spotted him, an idea flashing in his head like a lightbulb. If he couldn’t approach Evan and sort him out with his fists or burn him out wit his words, he would have to show him you were untouchable in another way.

Fred pulled you into the middle of the common room, breaking you out of your hiding, out in the open for everyone to see. He sneaked his arms around your waist and kissed your neck, staring at the man across the room, hoping he would finally notice you were unavailable.

Your cheeks started to heat up and prickle, you felt excited yet shy, embarrassed slightly and quite naughty as Fred to showed his affections on this level in public. Evan was prodded in the shoulder, his eyes peering away from the newspaper to the sight in front of him.

As Evan made eye contact with your boyfriend, you could feel Fred’s smirk graze against the sweet spot on your neck before he planted another kiss, refusing to blink or even look away from the lad in front of him.

Evan swallowed hard, a look of jealousy and disappointment flushing into his features, he stuffed the newspaper into his friends chest and stormed out of the common room.

“I think he finally got the message, love” Fred whispered softly in your ear.

And he was right, you could finally eat at the table and walk down the halls in peace, Fred occasionally spearing out the odd glare or two at Evan when given the chance.

taglist: @amourtentiaa @reeophidian @inglourious-imagines @alwaysnforeverfangirl

#fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley fanfiction #fred weasley x you #fred weasley imagine #george weasley #george wealsey x reader #george wealsey imagine #george weasley fanfiction #George Weasley one shot #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #Harry Potter fanfic #fred and george #fred and goerge weasley

[nishisun]

DORM BUDDIES

32. girlfriend, huh?

DORM BUDDIES MASTERLSIT

DING!

it’s him. it’s sugawara.

“and remember, if he does or says anything that makes you uncomfortable, what do you call out?” tsukishima has both hands place on each of your shoulders with a stern look on his face.

“I say strawberries and you’ll come ‘rescue me like a knight in shining armor.’ we’ve been over this like 10 times in the past hour, kei.” you say playfully. tsukishima’s facial features soften a bit and he smiles at you, but it’s more to himself. he’s just happy you’re not feeling nervous.

“i know.. i just want you to be safe, that’s all.” he smiles, staring at your eyes, then quickly glancing at your lips. you smile back at him and come closer so you’re almost nose to nose to him, taping his nose softly.

“you’re so soft for me.”

“shut up. i’m not.” he stands to his full height and scoffs, blush allergens on his face “last time i checked, you have a guest waiting for you at the door. maybe you should answer it. if you need me just say—“

“strawberries.” you interrupt him, heading to the door with a smirk on your face, making tsukishima chuckle.

“i’ll be in my room.”

for some odd reason, there’s not one ounce of fear or nervousness in you. you don’t know if it’s because of the little lecture tsukishima gave you this morning, or if it’s just the breakfast you ate, but this sudden in urge in confidence is something that was indeed needed.

tsukishima turns around at last and enters his room. you purposefully waited until he went back to his room to avoid him and suga having a very-much-not-needed-convo.

once you opened the door, for some odd reason, the confidence went away. you’re pretty sure his face is what triggered that to happen.

“hi.”

“hi.”

“uh, it’s pretty cold in here. can i.. come in?” sugawara asks, it’s barely even a whisper, but you manage to hear it. you avoid making direct eye contact, you opt for nodding your head and letting out a small hum instead.

you move to the side so he can enter and you close the door and lock it as you walk behind him with one arm placed on the other. he looks back at you and smiles sheepishly, and you signal to the couch, he talks that as a sign to sit.

you both sit in silence for what seems like forever (even though it’s been a good minute or two).

well this seems pointless.

“y/n, i’m sorry. i truly am.” he sounds like he’s begging, and honestly it’s annoying the fuck out of you. is that all he came here for? is to apologize? he could’ve done that through text, you wouldn’t have minded if he did it that way.

“is that all you came here for? to apologize?” you mutter, staring at the ground.

“well, yeah—“

“well then you could’ve done that through text, sugawara.” you scoff, obviously annoyed with him. he cocks your head at the way you’re staring at him in annoyance and furrows his brows, not used to the sudden behavior.

“the hell’s wrong with you?” he asks, his voice is deeper and laced with irritation, a voice he’d usually use when you two were together and he was about to do something he’d later on regret. your eyes widen suddenly and you immediately faced the floor to avoid eye contact once again.

“nothing— just.. what’s the actual reason you came here, sugawara?”

“what, so now it’s sugawara? not koushi, kou? not even suga?”

“you’re not answering my question.. i want an answer.”

“what if i don’t wanna give you one? what are you going to do?”

now it’s your time to cock your head, you really don’t have time to have petty arguments with your ex, who’s obviously not making things easier for you.

“i’m going to have to ask you to leave then.” you say stern and sugawara‘s face lights up with amusement, as if he’s testing you. he gets up from where he’s sitting and sits next to you, but not too close.

“c’mon, baby. can we just go back to how things were before? i’ve missed you so much.. even went to therapy because i couldn’t stop thinking about you...”

he’s staring directly at you, boring his eyes out on you, as if he’s challenging you to stare back. you don’t, you’re trying your best to restrain yourself from bursting into tears. how the hell is he able to make you feel so sick to the stomach?

“yeah, you already mentioned that to me over text.” you place both your hands on your lap before picking a small piece of lint that was on your leggings. sugawara looks down to see your fingers playing with each other, signaling that you were already feeling overwhelmed. he look like he’s having the time of his life. is he a sadist?

“i’m making you nervous? you always used to twiddle your fingers like that back then when you were...”

“can you just answer my question? my patience is running out.”

sugawara scoffs and tears the gaze he has on you to face forward. he doesn’t say anything, he just sits there.. what’s with him?

“i-if you don’t then i want you to leave.” you try to prevent yourself from showing that you truly are feeling nervous, but you always tend to stutter when you were feeling a bit too overwhelmed, and sugawara seems to love it because he laughs.

it’s not a long one, it’s just a huff of a laugh, but the fact that he laughed just proves that he still doesn’t respect you up to today.

“nah. i don’t wanna leave. your cute little stutter’s telling me that you’re not even sure if you want me to leave or not. you obviously aren’t using that tiny brain of yours. if you were, you’d realize that i’m trying to better myself for you. you’re making this harder on me, y/n. it’s not the other way around.”

“i really don’t have time for this, sugawara. i want you to leave. if you need anything, you have my number so i don’t see what the problem is.”

“the problem is you won’t give me a chance when i’ve literally changed!” he’s yelling at this point, his fist slammed against the table so loud, you’re pretty sure tsukishima heard it. “i don’t understand why you won’t listen to me! i’ve changed so why are you acting like this?”

you slowly move away from him, keeping distance with him in case he lashes out again. you can hear footsteps from the tsukishima’s room, he’s probably getting ready to come out, but you’re hoping he doesn’t. just not yet. if sugawara finds out tsukishima’s been listening this whole time he definitely won’t be happy.

“suga, this is exactly why! because you think you can get whatever you want by trying to guilt trip me! you’re only upset that i’ve realized my worth.” you keep commented contact with sugawara once you see his eyebrows furrow in confusion, confidence rushing within you once again. “i’ve already forgiven you and moved on... so can you please leave?”

he groans once more, putting his palms on his face, staring at the floor and still seated on the couch, you’re already backing away because sugawara looks like he’s about to throw something. if you weren’t feeling nervous before, you definitely are now.

“i-if you want to talk.. then explain yourself now or you’re leaving.” your voice is slightly shaky, you don’t think sugawara noticed, given the fact that he’s too annoyed with this whole situation, you are too. he wipes his palms on his thighs, then stands up and starts walking towards you, not quickly, but that doesn’t really matter.

“keep your distance,” you say firmly, you’re backing away from him and he doesn’t seem to be listening to you because he just continues to keep walking. “sugawara, i’m not playing, stop.”

“i’m not playing either,” he has you backed against the wall now, his right hand is giving him support from the wall and his other arm is placed next to him. “i’ve missed you.”

you’re uncomfortable. it’s not that you can’t defend yourself, you can. you just didn’t know what sugawara would do if you even laid a finger on him in a violent way. he would definitely not be happy.

“stop...” you try to shrink away from him, but it’s literally no use. he won’t budge, and you’re pretty sure he’s not going to listen. “strawberries.”

“what?”

finally, you hear the door to one of the rooms in the house open, it’s tsukishima and he walks out, you can’t help but smile when he looks at you and playfully winks. he’s such a weirdo.

“oh hi, y/n! what’re you doing in such a naughty position?” it’s tsukishima and he has a shit eating grin on his face. all you want to do right now is smack that smirk off his damn face. tsukishima looks at suga and furrows his brows with a chuckle. “that’s not how to treat a girl. i thought out of all people you’d know this.”

“ha ha, very funny.” you mutter. “now do what i hired you to do, four eyes.”

“hired? last time i checked this was my idea. i’m the brains behind this plan.” tsukishima retorts. sugawara is staring at the both of you in confusion, he still has you trapped between him, but you’ve paid no mind to it since you were too distracted arguing with tsukishima. it was a petty argument, really.

“why the hell is he here?” sugawara suddenly says, interrupting you from your mini argument. he’s finally standing straight, and you immediately move away from him. his brows are furrowed, and you can see the irritation rise up in him again.

“what’d you mean? i live here. i could ask that same question to you.” tsukishima asks, he’s staring back at sugawara.. maybe even glaring? you look at tsukishima in amusement because honestly, this situation went from stressful to entertaining.

“nah, i came to talk to y/n, i was expecting any other guest.” sugawara says, he glares at you saying the last part and you do everything in your power not to burst out in laughter, tsukishima is doing the same.”what even are you to her? a friend?”

“she’s my girlfriend, and i don’t like people flirting with her unless it’s me. she also lives here, so.”

“girlfriend...?” you look up at tsukishima in confusion then you glance at sugawara who looks like he’s about to lose his shit once again. he won’t though, you know he doesn’t act violent in front of people.

sugawara leaves your side to walk in front of the 6’5 tall man and all tsukishima does is look down at him with a bored expression.

“can you do both me and y/n a favor and leave? we usually like staying here by ourselves. without any guest.”

tsukishima’s passive aggression is kinda hot. you think.

“ah, i see.” he turns to your direction, keeping eye contact with you and you’re staring back defiantly. “so this is it, y/n? you’ve seriously moved on?”

your eyes widen at what he says, not expecting what came out of his mouth at all. he sounds pretty hurt, you don’t think it’s fair for him to act suprised. what did he expect? he’s the one that ended the relationship you had with him in the first place. did he expect you to just wait for him to come back?

you lift your hands up and shrug, not trusting that your voice won’t break. your words come out as a whisper, but the effect is there.“i mean, you can’t really act surprised, suga. you broke things off.”

tsukishima is watching the both of you from a distance, he’d rather cuddle with you and watch a movie in his room than be here watching you finally break things off with your ex for good. sugawara widens his eyes and then smiles.

“yeah, i guess you’re right. well, it was fun.”

you wish you could say the same.

“i’m glad you’re happy.”

“thank you, sugawara. i hope you’ve learned from your mistakes. i’m sure there’s someone out there for you, you just have to be patient, kay?”

sugawara walks towards the door, he turns around to face you with his hand on the door nob smiling, and looks at tsukishima. “she’s a keeper. you’re lucky to have her.”

now it’s your turn to widen your eyes, you weren’t expecting that one bit. what you were expecting was a raging sugawara who wouldn’t take “no” for an answer.

“yeah, i know.”

he doesn’t even make eye contact with you, he smiles at tsukishima’s response before heading out the complex. once the door finally shuts, you heave a sigh of relief and look up at tsukishima in amusement.

“girlfriend, huh? that’s the best you came up with?” tsukishima huffs out a laugh and then walks up to you to hug you. while in his grasp, you look up at him in confusion. “you’ve been so touchy lately. it’s cute.”

“i’m so proud of you.” he kisses the top of your head, and you snuggle your head in his chest further. he’s so cute.

“it’s nothing really kei.”

“no it isn’t. i’m proud of you. so proud.” he hugs you tighter, and you smile softly at how affection he is.

“that was easier than i expected. i thought it would take way more arguing for him to actually leave.” you laugh, tsukishima does the same and shakes his head.

“y/n, i’m gonna tell you something and you have to promise me you won’t judge me for it. okay?”

oh no. is this what akaashi was talking about?

“you’re scaring me, is it something bad?”

“i mean it depends. i don’t think it’s that bad.”

“okay...”

tsukishima takes a deep breathe and hugs you impossibly tighter, almost as if he’s stalling.

“take your time, kei. but the quicker the better cause you’re squeezing me!!!”

“i think i love you.”

—

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a/n: ahhh second to last chapter!! i did cut it a bit short because i felt like there were so many chapters.

taglist: @m01k @sunasro @cvlliesstuff @appleciderslut @lilacnoodles @sinistersith @d0llpie @kac-chowsballs @resetrestartandreplay @satomiis @xo-lovelyreign-xo @idiot-juice-enthusiast @definitelynotbianca @my-weeb-ass @yourlocalbabybird @bokutosuwus @tadashisprout @daninaninani @r4twh0r3 @tazinva @neokawa @mirikusashes @helloshoutohere @goldenchaos7 @wingsofmydemons @fearlesskz @moonieho @denkis-slut @nikanikabitch @peteunderoos @itsjustsavs @lalisbitch @micheleinumaki @tsukkisbbyg @kuroosluv @immxnty @rory-cakes @thechaosoflonging @ish-scribbles @randomesk-yuku @emazzello @fivxss @morosis-haze @setterswife @rarr-com1452z @excujeemi

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x reader smau #haikyuu!! #hinata x reader #kenma smau #kenma x reader #kozume kenma #kuroo smau #tsukishima x y/n #akaashi smau #akaashi x reader #hinata smau #sugawara smau #tsukishima smau #tsukishima x reader #tsukki smut #kuroo x reader #tsukishima kei #tsukishima fluff #sugawara angst #sugawara fluff #tsukki x reader #yamaguchi x reader #akaashi keji x reader #haikyuu smau #haikyuu smau series #haikyuu series

[seijorhi]

Acts of Devotion

👀 i um 👉 👈 i hope this is okay...

Akaashi Keiji x Female Reader

TW blood, gore, violence, murder, dub con, nsfw

Akaashi loves you.

He’s known that for a long time now, probably from the very first moment he laid eyes on you, back when you were both just wide eyed first year uni students, wildly out of your depths.

A lot’s changed since then. For one, he now gets to call you his, and it’s his arms that you return to at the end of a long day, his house that you both live in. It’d be a lie to say that it doesn’t bother him that he wasn’t your first love, but he’s contented himself with the knowledge that he’ll be your last. Your only great love.

The only one that matters.

But it hasn’t been without its challenges. He’s learned a lot about love since those early days, about what it means to truly devote yourself to somebody, to give everything you have for them.

Love essentially boils down to two things, Akaashi’s come to realise - sacrifice, and forgiveness. 

You always look so beautiful when you’re sleeping. Of course, Akaashi thinks you’re beautiful all the time; when you’re smiling and laughing, when your face is screwed up in petulant anger, when those pretty eyes of yours well with tears and they glimmer and shine - but there’s something about the peaceful expression, so soft and unguarded when you’re asleep that inexplicably draws him in. 

There’s a part of him that wants nothing more than to stay, to reach out and brush away the hair that’s fallen across your face, pull you closer and let sleep drag him under, but he can’t. 

Not tonight.

Instead he cranes his neck to press a kiss against your lips, a small smile tugging at his lips when you let out a quiet mewl in response. He loves you so, so much… that’s why he has to do this.

He’d forgive you anything. You know that, don’t you?

Sure, it hurt him when he found the messages. Scrolling back through your text history, it was like somebody had grabbed him by the throat and plunged a knife into his gut, twisting it for good measure.

Kaito i don’t know what to do

i love him but lately it feels like idk he’s being a little controlling i guess? 

… but maybe i’m just being paranoid?

He knows it’s not entirely your fault. For all the amazing qualities you possess, you are remarkably naive and so very, very impressionable - which worked to his favour in the beginning, he’ll be the first to admit, but now…

Now it’s becoming a problem.

You haven’t realised yet that everything Akaashi’s doing - it’s all for your own good. 

Your family wanted you under their thumb. They always asked too much of you, guilt tripped you whenever you tried to stand up for yourself or set boundaries. They’d never be happy for you, not truly. It hurts, he knows that, but some people don’t deserve to be in your life, especially when they treat you like that. 

Your job was causing you stress, and your boss was an arrogant, nasty piece of work. His salary is more than enough to support you both, why put yourself through that if you don’t need to? Aren’t you happier now that you don’t have to trudge into that office every day and pretend that it isn’t making you miserable?

Your friends were bad influences. Jealous of your relationship for one, but they were also petty, self absorbed and vapid, always trying to drag you down to their level so you wouldn’t ever outshine them. You’re better off without them, why can’t you see that?

Akaashi’s the only one you’ll ever need.

And he really thought that he’d solved that little problem, but apparently not. He supposes he shouldn’t be surprised that out of all of them, Kaito’s the one who’s been the hardest to shake. An old friend of yours from high school, Akaashi had known within five minutes of meeting him that he was head over heels in love with you and had been for a long, long time. 

He can’t blame him for that. You’re beautiful. Perfect. Entirely his. It’s painfully obvious that even before he came into the picture to sweep you off your feet, you’d never so much as looked twice at the guy. So Akaashi was more or less content to let his somewhat pitiful one sided crush on you slide. Considering that he had absolutely no intentions of letting him or any of your other friends remain part of your life for much longer, it was hardly worth wasting energy thinking about.

Until, that is, he read the messages that Kaito’s been sending you.

Leave him

I’m serious. 

My sister had a friend who was with a guy like that. She had to get a restraining order because he wouldn’t let her go - it got scary… You can come stay with me. I don’t want you getting hurt :(

It’s that last one that bothers him. Not the attempts to lure you away from him under the guise of being a safe haven from your ‘dangerous’ boyfriend, painting himself as your knight in shining armour - mildly irritating if not a little amusing - but for putting the idea in your head that Akaashi would ever hurt you.

That he can’t forgive.

He won’t have you look at him with fear in your eyes. 

Akaashi’s never tried to deny that side of himself, but he’s kept it from you, locked it away and buried it deep. The things he does… you’re too pure for that. He loves you, loves the way that your eyes still soften when you catch sight of him, the warm, trusting naivety that bleeds out of your every pore. If you knew what the hands that caressed you so gently had done, would you still beg for his touch?

You wouldn’t, he knows that just as he knows that even if you were to uncover the truth, he wouldn’t let you go. He can’t, you’re his.

Is it really so selfish of him to want to preserve that innocent naivety? 

But it seems like now he’ll have to indulge once again, and Akaashi, really, truly can’t say that it bothers him. Killing other people has always thrilled him, made the blood in his veins race… Killing other people for you, oh, that’s going to be a whole other level of pleasure he can’t wait to explore. 

The pads of his fingers trace the curve of your jaw for just a moment. “Back soon,” he whispers, gracing your cheek with a feather light kiss.

You’ve never asked why the door to the basement locks from both sides, he doesn’t even think you realise that the walls are soundproofed. Tonight he’s grateful. You won’t wake up, he’s almost positive of that, but Akaashi has no desire to be gone from your side for any longer than absolutely necessary.

He usually prefers to take his time. 

His first kill was more of an accident than anything else, there was too much blood, he panicked and it was over in the blink of an eye. There wasn’t time to savour it, to really enjoy the sight of the light leaving their eyes, the weak, desperate struggles and whimpers, the tantalising fear that inevitably bleeds into the air, growing more potent by the second - even the strongest break eventually. He’s learned since then how to draw it out, how to have fun with his work.

But he doesn’t have that luxury tonight, and, as he keeps having to remind himself, this isn’t about his pleasure.

Guns are quick. Messy. Akaashi’s never really taken a liking to the crude, graceless weapon. He prefers his knives. 

Waving a gun in somebody’s face gives them the idea that they’re going to die, and there are only so many times that you can shoot somebody before they just… bleed out. It’s not nearly as satisfying a death. A knife, on the other hand, brings with it more opportunities. It isn’t death that his victim becomes worried about, at least not initially, but pain. And as his hand glides over his collection, Akaashi decides that Kaito is due for a little pain.

I love him, you’d texted. I love him. I love him. I love him.

That’s what he’s trying to protect. 

Long, pale fingers wrap around the handle of his chef’s knife, (eight inches, sharp - a familiar, comforting weight in his hand) and he takes a deep, steadying breath.

Kaito’s mouth is taped shut. Akaashi doesn’t want to hear a filthy word out of those lips. His hands are bound behind his back, his ankles tied to the old, wooden chair. He’s good with his knots, the more Kaito struggles, the tighter they pull. And judging from the ugly, purpling shade of his hands and the tears leaking from bloodshot eyes, he’s been struggling for a while.

Good.

Akaashi smiles as he strolls towards his captive audience, fingering the straight edge of the knife. Kaito doesn’t try to speak, but the muffled whines and sobs grow louder with every step closed between them. The fear and tension in the air is palpable. 

His breath is little more than a frantic wheezing by the time Akaashi stops in front of him and drops into a crouch. Cool, gunmetal blue eyes meet Kaito’s deep brown ones, blown wide with terror.

“I’m not the monster you think I am,” he admits quietly. 

Looking up at him from beneath long, dark lashes, a faint smile on his lips, Akaashi could almost pass for an angel if not for the gleaming kitchen knife in his hand. Kaito pales, his entire body going taut as his gaze slides from Akaashi’s face to the gleaming blade in his hand. He shakes his head in desperation, another muffled scream escaping his gag-

Akaashi strikes fast, like a viper. The blade plunges into the meat of Kaito’s thigh and without an ounce of mercy, Akaashi yanks it back towards his knee.

The scream that rips through the air sends a pleasurable shiver of warmth down his spine, and his tongue darts out to wet his lips as he feels the muscles beneath him convulse. The gash isn’t too long, maybe a few inches, but it’s deep and Akaashi’s smirk only grows as warm blood gushes from the wound, coating his hand in slick vermilion. 

He tugs the knife free, rewarded with another choked howl from his captive as more blood sprays. Bound to the chair, there’s not a whole lot of room for Kaito to move, but it’s somewhat amusing to watch him try to thrash, escape the white hot agony radiating from his thigh through his entire body. It’s hard for the human body to comprehend that level of pain, and from experience, Akaashi’s well aware that it won’t take long for his body to go into shock and simply shut down from the blood loss, and once that happens, he won’t be of much use to anyone. 

Kaito’s trembling, face pale, his skin clammy. Impossibly black pupils swallow his irises whole, erratically tracking his captor’s every movement as Akaashi pushes himself to his feet and takes a moment to study him. Tears and bubbles of snot leak in a disgusting mix down his jaw, dripping onto his lap as he sobs against his bindings. It’s pitiful, seeing a man reduced to a whimpering, terrified wreck, but as the hand still holding his knife grips at his chin and yanks his face closer, Akaashi can’t help but gleefully drink it all in. 

Your would be knight in shining armour doesn’t look quite so strong and capable now, does he?

Akaashi doesn’t have much time left to make him suffer, but he can’t seem to resist trailing his fingers along Kaito’s injured leg, digging them deep into the ruined muscle - grinning wildly when he convulses and screams, arching up off the chair. 

There’s still so much that he’d like to do. He toys with the idea of taking his tongue, of carving his knife deep into his skin just to watch him whimper and bleed… but no. This isn’t about indulgence. This is about you. He has to have more discipline than that.

Dangling on the edge of consciousness, Kaito meets his gaze one last time. Maybe he senses that his death is close, or maybe he’s just searching for a last minute reprieve, mercy from the cold blooded killer before him. Terrified, agonised, delirious from the blood loss, he tries to speak - a plea, he thinks, or maybe just incomprehensible babbling, but his eyes burn into Akaashi’s, desperate and hollow.

Akaashi’s never been one for theatrics. He won’t waste more time monologuing while your friend clings to the last vestiges of life. If Kaito hasn’t guessed by now the reasons he’s ended up here, at Akaashi’s mercy, he’s far less intelligent than he gave him credit for, but he supposes that he owes him something, at least. 

“I love her,” he says with a small shrug, as if it explains everything.

And maybe it does. 

It hardly matters though, as Akaashi decides to finally end it with a vicious slice across his throat. Blood sprays like a fountain, splattering across the room and drenching him, Kaito’s body slumps in his seat, the last flicker of life slowly snuffing out, and Akaashi revels in the pure, sweet euphoria that floods his system.

He’s never killed anybody while you were home with him before. Normally he’s methodical, quick to clean up whatever mess is left behind. Tonight though, Akaashi doesn’t have the patience for all that.

He should at least take a shower, rid himself of the blood that soaked him to the skin, but the call of your arms, the sweet, soft floral scent he longs to drown himself in beckoning is too hard to resist. He sheds his clothes, casting them aside haphazardly along with the bloody knife as he stalks down the hallway to the bedroom. His heart is still racing, excitement drumming through his veins as he crawls onto the bed and slides the covers off of you.

Dimly, he registers that this is a monumentally bad idea, but all he can think about is the vivid memory of the light leaving Kaito’s eyes and you. Tonight, he killed for you, and it was exhilarating.

He doesn’t think he could stop himself even if he wanted to, and why would he want to?

You’re perfect, beautiful - his. Nothing and nobody will ever be able to separate the two of you, he’ll kill anybody who tries. 

You stir a little as Akaashi’s lips graze along your skin, his fingers sliding the silk of your nightgown up over your hips.

“‘Kaashi?” you sleepily murmur, trying to blink heavy eyelids open.

He wonders if you can feel the way his bloodstained hands are trembling as they ease your supple thighs apart. “Shh, baby,” he presses a kiss against your leg as he manoeuvres himself between them, “It’s okay, go back to sleep.”

Let me take care of you. 

He needs this.

#yandere haikyuu #yandere akaashi x reader #yandere akaashi #yandere akaashi keiji #yandere akaashi keiji x reader #tw blood #tw violence #tw murder #slasher-ish vibes #tw dub con #just a little #not super proof read because it's 3:30 in the morning

[alphabravocharliedelta]

How would the safehouse crew deal with fights with their s/o's? You know, like you had a huge argument and there's silent treatments and such? I love your works and blog so much, thank you 🥺💖

AHAHAAHAHA they angy. this gets kinda long so more under the cut

Safehouse Crew getting into an argument with their S/O

Adler

It'll start off as him being annoyed, he's a bit more pissy and snappy than usual

Then it eventually escalates into a screaming match

After the confrontation, he's really irritated and a bit more silent than usual, anyone that tries to talk to him is met with short and abrupt statements

"What do you want?"

"No."

He'll actually try avoid seeing you or being in your presence until he gets over it, but it'll take some time. if you do happen to pass by each other, he'll brush past you a bit harshly, bumping shoulders and such

It can last a few days, you can catch him doing things in a bit more of a harsh manner (i.e. slamming the door a bit or scrubbing dishes furiously)

Eventually, he'll come across you crying by yourself and it will just make him feel fucking guilty, but then he has to fight his sense of pride, because he hates to admit he was wrong

He sucks it up, and it's especially hard since you both don't argue often

"I was an asshole earlier."

You're that one piece of love in his life and just spending time staying angry already wastes enough precious time that he doesn't get enough of

Mason

He'll just kind of get in the car and drive off leaving you at home, goes to the store or some fast-food restaurant

There's a lot of things he sees that reminds Mason about you, and he'll feel bad at first, but then he would remember the argument and get moody

The door to the room would be locked, so he would have to knock a few times

"[Y/n], can you step out for a bit? I'll leave you alone afterwards, just hear me out."

When you don't answer he'll leave you be, and watch TV instead, but he won't be paying any attention to it

When you slip out of the room, you kinda just stand there in the hallway as he lies on the couch

Upon noticing you he sits up, smiling a bit sheepishly: "Hey, uh..."

Apologizing is hard for him, but he gets his words out somehow

He'll lavish you in kisses once you both make up

Woods

He tries his best not to get physical, he'll probably punch a wall or pillow

Sometimes he can't restrain himself, and will grab your shoulders forcibly, but then the moment he sees that fear in your eyes he instantly regrets it, you'll pull away from him before running to the bedroom and locking yourself

Woods would just kind of stare at his hands before dragging them down his face, knowing that he already fucked up

This guy already struggles to maintain his emotions; being the boisterous go-to dumbass kind of just bottles up things he usually can't bring himself to talk about, so the last thing he wanted was to lash out at you

He'll leave you alone for the rest of the day, and do his portion of the housework in dead silence while trying not to break things

Sleeps on the couch after drinking a couple of beers, but he probably can't get a good sleep now

Woods isn't too good in apologizing, being the stubborn shit he is 

so he'll wake up really early and go to the flower shop, buy the biggest bundle of flowers while telling the florist "I fucked up."

he’ll come back home to you still in bed, so he would place the flowers on the bedside table and slip under the covers with you, staring at your sleeping expression while hating himself for yelling

you would awaken to him lying beside you holding your hand with a couple of dried tears on his face, and when you try wipe them away, his arm just sticks out and pulls you into a tight hug

Sims

his already sarcastic personality hits harder than usual, he’ll make personal remarks and makes sure they hurt

"You done yet? Because, you're being ridiculous right now."

Sims will storm off mid argument shaking his head, locking himself in the garage

he’ll work on the car, or search through boxes just to get his mind off of things, the entire scenario just repeating in his head

would probably think up of fake counter-arguments just to try make himself out as the one being right, but in the end he can’t come to the conclusion 

once there’s nothing else to do he just stares off into space for a bit, toying around whatever thing he’s holding 

The time comes where he has to leave his enclosed space, and he'll come back and find you sitting at the dinner table

He'll give out a deep sigh before join you awkwardly

"Hey, uh, about those things I said earlier..."

Park

after a fight, she would kinda try get back to work, but finds difficulty in concentrating

she’ll just toss everything onto the table before leaning back in the chair and just stares at the ceiling while slowly spinning in the swivel chair

Park would eventually just bury her face in her hands, just thinking about it all, and questioning the relationship. She loves you but arguments like these is what makes her question the integrity of it

its difficult to process, but when it comes down to it, Park comes to remember as to why she fell in love with you in the first place, and smiles warmly to herself remembering the first time you both met

although, Park might overthink the situation as a whole, and may forget that an apology was in order

you’ll kind of find her lost in thought, so you would tactfully place down a cup of coffee next to her before rushing towards the door

Park would grab your wrist before you leave. 

“Wait.”

you raise an eyebrow

“I... may have said some unnecessary stuff.”

it’s hard for her to admit her wrongs, but for you she will

Lazar

this bear can actually get mad, and it isn’t a pretty sight to bear witness to, so it’s unsettling how intimidating he can actually get

after the argument he gets real silent after all the yelling, and leaves you there on your own

side glares whenever he walks past you, he also keeps this brooding expression throughout the day

Lazar can actually keep the silent treatment for a while, but it does get exhausting for him to constantly in an agitated state. being reminded of negative things that already happened kind of just breaks his flow

he’ll try to do paperwork, maybe even go out to the practice range and try out a rifle he had modified, but in the end he gets lonely without your company

Can't stay mad forever, and depending on the situation, it can take him a few hours to a couple days to get over it

When it's time, he will just give you a warm unsuspecting hug and kiss your forehead, mumbling an apology

he’ll also by a pack of your comfort food and throw that into the mix

Hudson

this dude almost always looked pissed as is

its almost astounding to see how much deeper the furrow of his brows can get, as well as the wrinkles on his forehead

Hudson would mutter under his breath to himself while doing papers

Its probably not noticeable, but he'll press a bit harder when using the pen, writing a bit more messily and smearing (which would add on to the irritation)

he ain’t the guy to apologize straight up, so he’ll either wait until everything dies out, or just brush it aside/attempt to forget about it

since this guy practically works as long as he breathes, Hudson usually returns by the time you’re asleep

he’ll just lie down next to you and let out an exhausted exhale while making out the details of your face amidst the darkness

and he can’t help but feel regretful about the entire thing, since he rarely has time to spend with you as is, and knowing his work, he’ll be away for days before finally returning to your side again

what if the argument was the last interaction you’ll both have? he didn’t want to think about it

when you wake up you’ll find his hand placed over yours with a peaceful expression and snoring soundly

#call of duty x reader #call of duty imagines #alex mason #jason hudson #lazar #helen park #russell adler #lawrence sims #bo:cw #abcd briefing #black ops cold war #call of duty: black ops cold war #cod #call of duty #text #hc #mmm silent making up #asks #smokeywhalee

[lubdubsworld]

Falling for you ( Falling from grace) Jungkook x OC

Rated : 18 +

Warning : . Fuck buddies? Or rather enemies that have sex. They just really hate each other but also can’t keep their hands off each other.

Chapter 1   Chapter 2    Chapter 3   Chapter 4   Chapter 5

Chapter 6

“Are you sure you want to head back to work today, Areum? Hoseok told me that he would give you the rest of the week off if you like... That bruise on your face is looking pretty nasty.” My sister commented mildly, her eyes worried as she watched me dab concealer on the mottled purpling skin on my jaw.

“I need to finish a couple of reports by the weekend. And Namjoon oppa told me he wanted me to be there when we viewed the CCTV footage later today. It’s going to help getting that bastard fired.” I flinched at how bad this side of my face looked. 

The bastard. 

“He’s not fired yet?” My sister made a noise of outrage.

“Of course he is. There’s a restraining order against him. But formally he needs to be terminated and Namjoon wants to do it in a way that it goes on his record permanently. Especially considering he’s already out on bond.” I wrinkled my nose. 

There wasn’t much chance of Junho going to prison over this but I definitely did not want him within fifty feet of me, ever again. 

“Jungkook’s busy with his practice is it? I haven’t heard from him...” My sister prompted and I nodded.

“His big match is coming up on Sunday. That's like four days away ...he’s probably cooped up in that gym of his.” 

“I know... Seokjin works out there too... its a great place...how come you’re never there?”

I frowned .

“He actually has me blacklisted. I’m not allowed inside the establishment. ” I muttered. 

My sister’s eyes widened.

“What? Why?”

I shrugged. The memory was a good one and worth reliving. In fact i relived it quite often when I was particularly horny with only my own hands for relief. 

“I seduced him against his favorite punching bag once and he had to get rid of it because the cum stains wouldn’t come off. He’s a petty jerk.” I grinned at my sister enjoying the way her eyes went wide as saucers. .

She stared at me slack jawed. And then she shook her head in disbelief. 

“You talk about him this way but you always look like you're half way in love with him. I don’t know what is going on in your head when it comes to Jungkook.”

I laughed.

“I love him. Of course I do.... I’m pretty sure he cares about me too, “ I remembered how warm and content I’d felt when he’d held me, how the police officer had immediately concluded he was my boyfriend, simply from the concern radiating off him, “  But, I’m not going to push for anything. I like how we are ...now.”

“Friends with benefits.?”

“I prefer the term enemies who fuck” I winked and she groaned. 

“Whatever you say. But remember, you’re going to have to DTR at some point and I hope you don’t get a shock if he isn’t on the same page. “ 

“Unlikely. Now go distract mom so I can slip out of the back door.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“That looks pretty fucking bad.” Hoseok winced when he saw me and I groaned.

“Don’t remind me. I ran into Namjoon on the way up and he swelled like a bullfrog. Is Jungkook in today?” I asked him brightly.

Hoseok frowned.

“you guys are awfully chummy these days ....Need I remind you about the clause on interpersonal relationships in the office?” 

I flushed.

“We’re...not....I mean. We’re friends. “

“I thought the term was enemies who fuck.” Hoseok said thoughtfully and I jumped.

“What-?”

“Jungkook told me, you little brat. I asked him why he went over to the police station and broke Junho’s fucking jaw and he spilled...”

My own jaw came unhinged.

“ He what?!”

 “He posted the bond money for the bastard himself to get him out and then apparently punched him hard enough to land him in the hospital.”

“Oh my God...is he in trouble?” 

Hoseok sighed.

“Of course not... Mr. Jeon had it taken care off at once but I knew something was up . He’s too old to play knight in shining armor , unless there was something between you guys...” 

I sighed.

“We’re in a purely physical relationship yes with of course a splattering of affection for each other. But nothing that deserves a label or close scrutiny from the HR dept. Please Hobi oppa, just let me be. “ I fluttered my lashes and he rolled his eyes. 

“Just as long as you know that Jeon Jungkook is a chaebol. He’s not going to make a honest woman out of you.” Hoseok gave me a pointed look and I wondered if I really did wear my heart on my sleeve. 

Apparently, everyone could sense that my feelings for Jungkook ran deeper than just lust and I wasn’t sure if it was a good thing. 

“Anyway, yo answer you question, yes. He’s in his office right now.”

I made to turn away but Hoseok grabbed my wrist.

“You have thirty five memos to answer and seventeen appointments to schedule. Your desk is this way, I suggest you head in that direction.” His eyes glinted in a way that told me he was incredibly serious. 

I pouted.

Fine... I’d wait for lunch to go meet Jungkook.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jungkook had a secretary of his own , the smitten Miss Lee and she gave me an angelic smile, telling me that Jungkook was out to meet someone in the marketing department. If there was anything important, I could leave it with her.

Declining the offer and thanking her, I made my way to the fireescape and the back stairwell. One of the doors opened to the emergency exit in Jungkook’s office and it took me a little bit of running around but I managed to locate it easily enough. 

Jungkook had left the door open and less than ten minutes later , I was in his office, staring around in mild awe. 

Weirdly enough, I’d never been here. before, mostly because Jungkook himself wasn’t in here all that much. But there was no mistaking that he actually did take his work seriously . I peered around the expensive drawing Tablet and the three or so monitor screens , the stylus tossed about. 

It was probably a huge breach of his privacy but I couldn’t help but click on the mouse, watching his monitor come alive. 

I blinked in disbelief when I realized what I was staring at. 

“Oh my  fuck...”  I

I felt my face flood with heat as I stared at the screen. 

It was a drawing of me. 

I was completely naked , reclining against what looked like a thick white fur rug , with countless plush cushions scattered all around me. The snow white fur set off the golden glow of my skin and I noticed the attention to detail, the tiny mole in the corner of my hip, the small half moon scar on the edge of my collar bone and of course an impressive collection of hickeys on my neck and my inner thighs. 

I looked the way I usually did when I was mouthing off at him, a little angry and rebellious, my eyes blazing with a challenge and my lips parted in annoyance . I had one hand resting right between my legs, two fingers pressed against the labia while the other two disappeared into me. The other hand lay on my breast, fingers tweaking one hard nipple . 

I turned away quickly, breathing harshly as I realized that Jungkook had literally drawn an incredibly accurate drawing of me masturbating , purely from memory.

Not entirely sure if i should be angry at this or not, I tried to clear the hazy cloud of arousal that was beginning to settle all over me. I wasn’t angry. 

I was just ridiculously turned on. 

And incredibly curious if he had other pics of me. 

I whirled back around to the computer and then nearly jumped out of my skin when I realized that Jungkook was leaning against the doorway, watching me with an amused smile on his face. 

“Oh, fuck...” I clutched at my heart which felt like it was going to give out. 

“Pretty sure your desk isn’t here, Areum. Are you lost?” He drawled, stepping away from the door and stalking over to me. 

I stepped back quickly, the action purely instinctive. 

“Did you punch Junho?” I asked sharply.

Jungkook gave me a small smile.

“That is a very mild way to put it yes. He’s gonna be eating through a straw for a couple of months , yes.”

I glared at him. 

“What if you got arrested.” I folded my arms.

He laughed.

“Baby, come on. fucker had it coming. Anyway enough about that loser. Why are you hovering near my desk. Corporate espionage is generally frowned upon baby... Am i gonna have to spank you, you naughty girl?” He waggled his eyebrows. 

I rolled my eyes before walking up to his desk and turning the screen around to show the lewd artwork . 

“how long have you been drawing me like that?” I pointed at the screen and Jungkook looked surprised. 

Surprised but not particularly bothered. 

“Ah... i love that one... Did you see the way I only drew four of your fingers between your legs baby, your thumb is supposed to be rubbing on your clit.... I was working on it when I got called away earlier....” He looked apologetic. 

I felt like I had turned the exact shade of the marron carpet under my foot. 

“Jungkook how long have you been drawing me naked...” I snapped. 

“ Oh... probably the first time you let me see you naked.” He said nodding lightly and I stared at him.

“How come I’ve never heard of this?” I hissed and he gave me a grin. 

“Because it’s for my own personal...use.” He grinned. 

I glared at him.

“How many....?” I demanded.

Jungkook shrugged.

“50...? 60? Definitely at least fifty.” He said casually. 

I stared at him.

“I wanna see them.” I said sharply. Jungkook sighed, like I was being a pain , which was so unfair it made me want to scream. 

“Areum, I-” 

“Jungkook?” A soft voice called from the outer office and I frowned when Jungkook startled. 

“Oh, hey... Sana..... Come in.” His voice had shifted into something mild and pleasant and I felt my hackles rise. 

“Oh..hello... Areum ssi...” The girl gave me a confused smile and I resisted the urge to fold my hands and demand what she was doing there. Instead , I moved away from behind Jungkook’s desk, grabbing a file. 

“Good afternoon Sana ssi.” I smiled.

“I’m sorry, I missed lunch, Sana.... I wanted to give you this. “ Jungkook pulled out a small envelope from his jacket, smiling an absolutely angelic smile at her. 

Sana looked suitably enthralled, her eyes trained greedily on his perfect face as she took the envelope.

“Oh.. are these--?”

“Tickets to my match on Sunday yes...” He smiled. “ I’m hoping you’ll be there.” 

I felt my lungs expand as I took a deep breath to calm myself down. The urge to screech like a banshee was increasing by the second. 

“Oh, I’ll be there for sure. I’ll be cheering you on from the front row, Jungkook !!” She all but bounced on her feet, looking positively giddy with excitement as she bowed to both of us and literally floated away. 

I waited till she was fully gone before turning on him. 

“There better be another envelope in there with my name on it.” I gritted out. 

Jungkook grinned wide at that, eyes dancing with mirth. 

“In my jacket? Not really. But there’s something much better in my pants with your name on it. Want me to whip it out for you baby?? “

He grabbed the edge of his belt buckle, tugging the leather out of the hoops and I glared at him. 

“You are out of your mind if you think I’m going to be okay with you letting everyone watch you fight but  me. That is just unfair and uncalled for.” I snapped. 

Jungkook was still tugging on his belt, but he paused to give me a look.

“What’s in it for me?” He said softly. 

I frowned.

“What?”

“I’m not going to enter a deal without an equitable pay off....Its obvious that you’re really turned on by the thought of watching me fight . So unless you give me something I’m thirsty for.... I’m not going to indulge you,” He said casually. 

I laughed in disbelief. 

“There is literally nothing I’ve denied you in bed , you're crazy to even suggest -”

“I haven’t fucked your ass yet.” He said casually. 

I could feel myself turning red.

“No.” I hissed. “ Absolutely not.”

“Why the hell not?” He frowned.

“Because it fucking hurts. I’m not going through that again.” I snapped. 

Jungkook groaned like he was in actual pain. 

“Baby, its hardly my fault you’ve never slept with a real man before me, is it? Why should I deprived the pleasure of fucking your ass just because those buffoons didn’t know how to do it right?” Jungkook’s voice was dangerously close to a whine and I resisted the urge to throw something at him. 

“I don’t fucking care...its a no. So drop it. ” 

Jungkook narrowed his eyes. 

“Fine. I’ll drop it. For now.” He muttered and then made a big show of thinking, “ alright fine. How about you let me tie you up.”

I stared at him.

“You literally do that every time we have sex.” I pointed out. 

“And I get to use my toy box.” 

I blinked.

“Your toy box.” I said , confused. He grinned mischievously. 

“You know the one...Big mahogany box  underneath my bed. The first time I showed you, you kind of screamed and called me a monster?” He grinned wide.

i had a brief flashback of an assortment of whips, floggers and gags. 

I shuddered. 

Nope. 

This wasn’t working. 

“How about this.... Either you get me those tickets or you don’t get to fuck me. At all.” I smirked.

Jungkook hummed.

“Why would you punish yourself like that love?” He drawled. “ You can’t live without my dick, the sooner you accept that the easier life is going to get for you.” 

The audacity of this bitch. 

I walked right past him , ready to stalk out,  but his hand shot out, gripping my elbow and pulling me into his embrace.

I struggled against his hold, but he brought both arms around my waist, flexing his muscles so I could feel just how futile it would be to try and break free. 

“Come on baby, walking out in the middle of negotiations...that’s just really poor etiquette. Think of the poor hostage....” He pouted , doe eyes wide and I nearly caved. He had no fucking business being sexy  and  cute. 

I laughed in disbelief.

“Hostage??....are you talking about your fucking ego....?” I stared right up at him , tilting my face when he moved to kiss me. His lips latched on to my jaw instead, tongue licking the skin there gently as he hummed . 

“No...I’m talking about my dick.” He grabbed both my elbows, swinging me around like I weighed nothing, one arm holding me in place as he pressed up against my back, hips rolling so I could feel the hardness of his dick right against the swell of my ass. “ Dude’’s feeling pretty darn trapped right now. Poor thing just wants to get inside you and ruin you baby, why you making it so hard for him...?” 

I elbowed him sharply, vindicated when the sharp edge of it caught something hard and fleshy. Jungkook grunted in discomfort but didn’t let go of me. 

“My little hellcat. “ He bit down on the juncture between my neck and shoulder, “You know why my dick is hard?”

“To match your cold unfeeling heart?” I snapped and he moaned in mock hurt. 

“Not fair baby...I have the kindest heart... Soft heart, hard dick....That’s literally my entire persona.” Jungkook nuzzled my neck .  

I fought the urge to laugh . 

“So why then? Because I’m within ten feet of you? Isn’t that all it takes usually?” I muttered, wincing a bit when his teeth sank in a little deeper.

Jungkook let out a soft chuckle.

“Normally I’d agree but today... I’m so fucking hard because you looked like you wanted to claw Sana’s face off when I gave her those tickets....” 

I flushed.

“Well, I just don’t think I should be the only one not allowed to see you fight.” 

“Or maybe you just hate the idea of any one else getting to touch my dick...because like I said...it’s got your name on it right baby?” Jungkook laughed against my ear and I blushed . 

“I still think its rude that you don’t let me come to your matches.” I grumbled. 

“And why do you think that is, baby? Why do you think I’m so adamant about you not being anywhere near me when I have something important to do...”

I didn’t reply, eyes fluttering shut when he suckled on the skin near my neck. 

“Its because I’ll probably lose..” He growled into my ear, “ Don’t wanna get knocked out in the first round because I was too busy staring at your pretty, pretty face and delicious fucking body... My only distraction, my  favorite  distraction.”

  I felt myself melt like an ice cream cone in the fucking sun. 

“Oh, fuck you....you honey-tongued son of a bitch...” I choked out, unable to fight the wide grin that was taking over my face. 

Jungkook chuckled in victory, hugging me tighter.

“So tell me.... Can I tie you up tonight? Get some of my favorite toys...Want to play in your sandbox....” He leered and I laughed despite myself. How could this man make the most innocent of phrases sound so fucking sexy.... 

“Only if you let me pick the toys.”

Jungkook let go of me and gently turned me around. He was frowning deeply. 

“Babe you don’t even know what their called.” He complained.

“But I can gauge how much damage they’ll do and that’s more important to me.” I pointed out. 

Jungkook gave me a thoughtful smile.

“Hmm....fine... But I get to offer the choices. “ He said softly. 

I narrowed my eyes at him.

“Okay, in that case you need to let me see every single drawing you’ve made of me... right now.” I smiled.

Jungkook grinned, already grabbing my wrist and tugging me back to his desk.

“Deal...but I’m gonna need you to sit on my cock and keep it warm while I show them to you..... okay?” 

I glared at him but he was already moving to the wide , comfortable chair behind the desk. He sat on the chair, manspreading and unbuckling himself before wriggling the slacks down past his waist and tugging his boxers down. 

I watched him reach in to pull out his hard cock ,  pumping the hard length of it a couple of times before smiling at me expectantly. 

“Horny bastard.” I muttered under my breath, before letting him maneuver me into his lap, fingers slipping up my skirt and tugging my panties aside , before lining himself up against my center. 

“Ready baby?” He kissed my cheeks fondly and I nodded lowly. He pressed a couple of fingers against my slit, dipping in just enough to make sure I was wet enough. I wasn’t dry per se, but it still stung a bit when he drove himself in with one swift stroke. 

“Oh, fuck...” I groaned when he entered me , the rock hard length of him cleaving my insides and making my tongue go dry. I clenched down on him, thighs beginning to tremble already. I gripped the edge of the table in front of me. 

“Maybe I should call Sana in now.? Huh baby...that’ll show her who this dick belongs to, right , angel?” He whispered against my ear and I moaned, a gush of arousal staining my thighs at his words., Jungkook laughed knowingly, wrapping an arm around my waist to keep me still before rolling his hips gently and settling inside me. 

“So baby, which ones do we start with.... Solo shots? ones with me....? There’s one of me fucking your pretty pink hole, maybe that’ll change your mind about letting me take you in the back...”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Author’s Note : I’m stopping here because the next chapter is just like 5k of porn and I wanted it to be a standalone chapter. 

Comments are love , Feedback is really appreciated. Send me your thoughts, ideas or even just scream about how hot Jungkook is....anything works. 

taglist : @veronawrites @aamxxrii  @brooky95

@apollukee

@ladyartemesia

@yoongisdragon

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ if you guys wanna be on the taglist just lemme know...

#jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook smut #jungkook au #bts au #bts enemies to lovers #jungkook fics #jungkook reactions #bts smut #bts fics

[ryangosking]

Cuffs

Summary: Bucky is guarding / detaining you as a favour to Sharon, unfortunately she gets delayed and the two of you are forced to spend the night together.

Warnings: 18+ for sexual content. Fingering, frottage, mentions of light bondage. Spoilers for The Falcon and the Winter Soldier

AN: Set after TFATWS, reader works for Sharon. May be the start of a series. Masterlist

"These cuffs are too tight." You whine loudly as Bucky pushes you into the motel room.

"No they aren't." He grumbles. "In fact you could probably get out of them if you tried hard enough."

You look around the room, to call it shabby would be a compliment.

"Sit down." Bucky says shortly, turning on the TV.

You sigh and perch on one of the beds, wriggling your wrists in the cuffs.

Bucky pulls out his phone and paces between the twin beds as he talks. "It's me. Yeah, I got her. She was being a pain in the ass so I cuffed her. Don't worry, she's fine."

You look up at him. "Let me talk to her." You hiss.

He scowls and shakes his head, the crease between his brows appearing. It's adorable really.

You can hear Sharon ranting on the other end. Oops.

Eventually he sighs and holds his phone out. "She wants to talk to you."

You smile sweetly and take it, holding it awkwardly in your restrained hands.

"Hello?" You ask, apprehensively.

"Tell Barnes to go outside." Sharon snaps.

"Err, can you give us some privacy?" You ask Bucky.

He turns from his position at the window and rolls his eyes. "I'll just be outside."

"We're alone." You tell her, almost dropping the phone.

"I've been calling you." She says, briskly.

"I don't know where my phone is, Barnes kind of abducted me so-"

"You didn't stick to the fucking plan, did you?"

"Technically I didn't, BUT I made it even better."

"You got greedy."

"I did it for us, Sharon. More investment means-"

"Don't drag my name into this. Lucky for you I managed to reason with the people you stole from."

"I didn't steal....the plan was...." You trail off, knowing that it's pointless making excuses.

"The plan was perfect until you went rogue and pissed off all the wrong people!" Sharon yells.

"Sorry." You mutter.

"I'm coming to get you and bring you back to Madripoor, you need to lay low. I promised them you'd disappear for a while."

"Fine." You sigh, grudgingly.

"I can't get a plane until the early hours so just stay put. Barnes will be guarding you."

"GUARDING me?" You splutter.

"Yes, didn't you hear what I said? You pissed off some prominent....personalities."

"Right."

"Just sit tight and try not to annoy Barnes too much."

"Promise." You sigh.

Sharon snorts in response and hangs up.

You tap on the window to indicate that the the call is over, Bucky slips back in and takes his phone.

"Everything ok?" He asks.

"Not really." You mutter, holding up your cuffed hands. "Please can you take these off? I'm obviously not going anywhere."

He eyes you suspiciously before nodding and fishing the key out of his pocket.

As he leans over to unlock you, you discreetly inhale in his scent. You've had a crush on Bucky since the first time you met him, in Madripoor. Then he'd been with Sam and the Baron, you'd only met him briefly but oh, your pulse kicked up a gear whenever he looked your way with those soulful blue eyes. You had crossed paths a couple of times since (he and Sharon seemed to be constantly doing favours for one another) and he always had the same effect on you. Sharon even teased you about it. And it might be (probably was) your imagination but you'd noticed his cheeks turn pinker when he was forced to speak to you, his eyes lingering on you when he thought you weren't looking.

"Thanks." You murmur, rubbing your wrists.

He gives you one of his soulful looks and you feel it in the pit of your tummy. "You're welcome." He says, softly.

You had actually been thrilled when he turned up at the bar, and even more thrilled when he said lowly in your ear, "You need to come with me." You had known that Sharon would send someone to get you, but it hadn't occured to you that someone would be Bucky. The struggle was mostly for show, you just enjoyed the feeling of Bucky's big, strong arms restraining you.

"You may as well get comfortable." He says, not looking up from his phone.

"I'm hungry." You say, plaintively.

"In case you haven't noticed, this isn't the kind of place that has room service."

"I saw a vending machine in reception."

Bucky sighs impatiently. "What do you want?"

"Chips and soda? Barbeque and Sprite?" You smile, hopefully.

"Fine. Don't move."

"I've got some change in my pocket." You offer, jutting your hip out at him.

His eyes flicker over you briefly. "I got it." He grumbles.

You need a moment alone to process your conversation with Sharon - you had heard her go off at people plenty of times but her vitriol had never been directed at you. It had been you and her against the world for so long, she felt like your family. She must've gotten a lot of shit from those investment assholes. Like they couldn't afford to lose a few thou, you're surprised that they even noticed.

Bucky returns with your soda and chips, chucking them unceremoniously on the bed, and some salted chips and a Coke for himself. You're fascinated, you've never seen him eat before.

"Thankyou." You say, ripping open the chips. "I'm starving."

He sits on the other bed, his legs stretched out and crossed as he looks impassively at the TV. You can't help stealing glances at him as you eat. He's wearing all black as usual, leather jacket, jeans and boots, his bionic arm concealed. Your cunt aches at the prospect of being alone with him for an entire night, you want to feel his arms around you again, his strong thighs between yours and his mouth, well, everywhere.

"Did Sharon tell you what I did?" You ask.

"I didn't ask for details. I just know that you pissed her off." He says, still looking at the TV.

"She's taking me back to Madripoor." You say quietly.

"I know. Makes sense." He shrugs.

"You and her go way back, right?"

"I've known her for a while."

"How come you and Sam are always doing her favours? You owe her or something? She doesn't like to talk about it." You probe.

"Neither do I." He says, turning his unflinching gaze on you.

You can't help but laugh. "You've got a great poker face, Barnes, I'll have to take you gambling in Madripoor, you'll make us rich."

"I'll pass." He says, crumpling his Coke can in his bionic hand.

You turn your attention to the TV - some garish game show - and feel his eyes still on you. The ache is getting worse, now you're positively throbbing with need. What the hell, you're going to Madripoor in the morning, who knows when you'll see him again? You may as well shoot your shot.

"Sharon thinks there's tension between us." You murmur casually, glancing at him.

"I won't argue with that."

"Sexual tension."

"Oh." He mutters. "You believe everything Sharon tells you?"

"She's mostly right about things."

Not entirely true. Sharon's exact words were, "If you and Barnes don't stop eye fucking each other I'm going to puke." Then she muttered something about 'steering clear of super soldiers'.

"Maybe we should do something about it, get it out of the way." You say, feeling yourself flush and keeping your eyes on the screen.

"That's not a good idea." He replies, but the tone of his voice sounds different, husky almost. Out of the corner of your eye, you see him shift on the bed.

"I've got a proposition for you." You say, finally, turning to him.

Bucky clears his throat. "If it's an investment opportunity I'm not interested."

"It's not financial, it's physical."

He sighs and looks at you.

"So, what if we kiss." You say, as lightly as you can manage.

"No." He says, flatly.

"Wait, I haven't finished. If we kiss and it's awful, then we forget about it and don't mention it ever again."

"I like the sound of that." He murmurs.

"If it's not awful well, we've got a motel room and a night to figure it out." You say softly, biting your lip.

The pause before he answers is far too long, and you're so embarrased you actually contemplate making a break for it.

"If I say yes will it shut you up?"

You laugh, relieved. "Yes, it will literally shut me up."

Bucky gets up off his bed slowly. "I'm going to regret this, I can tell."

"And I'm going into hiding, for who knows how long. It's the least you can do, Barnes." You say, your heart hammering with anticipation.

Bucky sits next to you, and your mouth starts to water just from his proximity.

"How do-"

You don't let him finish, leaning over and grabbing his jacket, pressing yourself against him and capturing his mouth with yours. It's even better than you imagined; he's slow and gentle but firm, bringing his hand up to grip the nape of your neck, a soft growl escaping from the back of his throat.

You pull away, flustered. Bucky's eyes are wide, staring at you.

You gulp. "Awful, right?"

"Just terrible." He murmurs, his hand tightening on the back of your neck.

"I guess that's it then." You shrug, looking at him through lowered lashes.

"That's it." He kisses you again, and this time it's all consuming. His lips are so soft but insistent and he licks into your mouth, making you groan into his.

You just want to climb onto him, anything to relieve the desperate ache. Bucky pulls you onto his lap with a grunt and you straddle him, your kisses growing deeper. He's so solid underneath you and you rub yourself against him, feeling the bulge grow in his jeans.

"Fuck, you're needy aren't you?" He chuckles lowly, kissing your neck.

You make a noise of agreement, slipping his jacket off his broad shoulders.

Bucky unbuttons your pants, and slides his hand into your panties.

"Is this ok?" He asks softly.

"It's all ok." You tell him and gasp as you feel his fingers opening you up, your hips jerking in response when he finds your clit. He tongues your mouth again as he plays with your pussy, slipping two fingers inside you.

You moan his name as you fuck his hand, rubbing him through his jeans and feeling the flicker of heat blooming at your core. Suddenly Bucky withdraws his hand and you stare at him as he gets up of the bed.

"Get undressed." He swallows, pulling his t-shirt off.

Quickly you strip down to your underwear and sit back on the bed, Bucky stands before you naked, beautiful, his arm gleaming in the lamplight. You can't hide your alarm when you notice he's got the cuffs in his hand again.

"What are those for?" You gulp, eyes wide.

"For when I fuck you." He says thickly. "If it's ok?"

You nod eagerly, pleasantly surprised. It was a first for you but you trusted him and well, now was a good a time as any.

Bucky gets on the bed and reaches for you, pulling you close and kissing you roughly, his hand grabbing a fistful of hair, his dog tags clinking against your chest.

"How come you still wear these?" You ask, running your fingers over the metal.

"Don't worry about it." He murmurs.

Then there was no more talking.

* * * * *

The next morning you wake up, nestled into Bucky's back and feeling sore. Your pussy and your wrists had taken a pummeling the previous night, he had fucked you every way he wanted to and you had lost count of your orgasms. Quite a going away present before you were shipped away to Madripoor. You were contemplating waking Bucky to go another round when his phone vibrates on the bedside cabinet. Already awake, he reaches for it.

"Morning Sharon." He intones. "Yeah, I guessed that. No, she was fine, I made sure that she behaved. Right, ok. See you then."

You groan. "Great."

He turns over. "She just landed."

"But we have time, right?"

Bucky laughs, and gives you a genuine smile. "Time for what?"

Sitting up, you nod towards the bathroom and then touch his bionic arm. "Is this thing waterproof?"

#sebastian stan #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x female reader #tfatws bucky

[toraashi]

title: some runaway bride type shit (akaashi x reader)

warnings/genre: none lol besides fem reader tho (she’s marrying a guy) fluff

a/n: good afternoon, here’s this that’s been sitting in my brain the last week. enjoy! also I’m still kinda MIA but I wrote this so I thought I’d share. Also it won’t let me add a read more i’m so sorry idk why

She scrutinized her appearance in the mirror, watching as the seamstress behind her adjusted the fit of her ivory dress. The chrome reflected the overhanging lights harshly, blindingly, as if distracting her from the life-changing choice she stood on the precipice of.

The taffeta gown was tight-fitting, decorated gaudily with cheap, salmon-colored flowers sewn shoddily to the material. Shoulders slumped, she let her lashes flutter closed, feeling the weight of the draping falsies again her cheekbones.

“How are you feeling?” Her eyes shot open at the sound, dripping with sweetness as she caught his form in the mirror. A crisp white button-up adorned his chest, his navy tie adding a spark of color to the otherwise monochrome getup.

“Keiji,” His name fell from her lips in a pleasant sigh, lips quirking into a forlorn smile.

“Yes?” His tone held a teasing lilt, but it too cradled melancholia. “Are you nervous?”

“You always see right through me.” Dark shoes melding into the pristine carpet, he took daring steps closer, careful to not interrupt the helper’s delicate work.

“You look lovely.” His comment contorted her face with suspicion.

“You really think so?” Her glum words elicited a restrained nod, but before the room could settle into uncomfortable silence, the seamstress intervened.

“All done, sweetheart. I hope it’s everything you wished for.” Swallowing thickly, the bride nodded, flattening her hands against the snowy material.

“Yes, thank you. Thank you for your help.” The woman smiled faintly, glancing towards the visitor.

“I’ll get going then. Please let me know if you need further assistance.”

“Of course.” The bride’s words were kind but empty, and as soon as the tailor left, her expression crumbled. The dark-haired man rested himself on a stiff table stool, the old wood creaking under his weight. He was barely a foot away, his fingertips itching to slide beneath her jaw, to pick up her face and mood alike. She did the heavy lifting for him, meeting his sapphire hues with utter despair dripping from hers.

“What is it?” Words that were once tentative grew with urgency at her plummeting temperament.

“This dress is horrendous, Keiji. It’s hardly what I’ve dreamed of. Is this really about to be my wedding? Is this the end all be all? If so, why do I feel so much dread?” Sentences and rhetorical questions spilled from her glossed lips frantically, and the craving Akaashi felt to answer them was nearly uncontrollable.

“Is this not what you want? You’ve been with him so long.” He tried to believe his inquisitions were for her own good, but deep down, he knew they stemmed from personal curiosity. They spoke a deep craving, a sort of desperation he’d kept recluse since the engagement. The way she reached for his hands, gripping them like a vice, reciprocated those feelings perfectly. Despite the warmth in his heart and the tingling of his fingertips, his gaze never once parted from hers.

“Keiji, I probably sound insane, but right now, this is the last thing I want in the world. I don’t want this. I never have. I don’t want this dress. I don’t want this venue. I only want one person, and it’s not the man I’m about to marry.” The blue-eyed boy’s throat instantly dried, each thought caught between his heart and brain, his cautious demeanor lost in the riptide.

“Who do you want?” A sardonic chuckle ripped from her throat, and his heart leaped in return, rattling against the brittle cage of bone and regret he trapped it in.

“Don’t you know? I’ve never felt more at home around anyone else.” The tears sparkling her eyes counteracted the bitter bite to her tone. “I’ve never regretted anything more than this engagement, and now I’m trapped in it, Keiji. I only want you. I have for years. I only realized it recently. But now it’s too late.” Her fingertips tightened against his, relaying eons of pain and sorrow that he empathized with all too well. In response, Akaashi, her dearest friend, did what he knew best.

Running his thumbs over her skin, the boy flashed her his softest smile, reassuring every bone in her body of his perpetuity. Words brimming with reluctance and acceptance filled the air between them.

“I’ve known, I’ve always known, but this is the path you’ve chosen. Everything will work out, and I’ll always be by your side.” Waterfalls tumbled over pinkened cheeks, soiling the facade of her makeup.

“So you don’t love me back?” The tears splashed against her dress at the world-shattering words, hiccups bubbling from her throat in a way that had Akaashi’s arms around her in seconds, tight and intimate. He cooed tenderly, mindful of the intricate twists of her hair.

“I-” A hesitation. He wasn’t sure how his admission would affect their relationship thus forward, especially following her wedding. Nevertheless, he gave in, vowing to let this moment be the last. “I do. I always have.” She peeked up from her cocoon in his chest, water constellating dripping lashes like stars. Akaashi cupped her cheek, gaze thick with suppressed longing. “I always will.”

“Then let’s leave.”

....

“W-what?” Her voice was thriving with spontaneous decision and confidence, leaving him bewildered and flustered.

“I’m serious.”

“Y/N, you have a crowd of people and a groom waiting for you to walk down the aisle in 5 minutes!”Thoughts in a frenzy, he could barely contain himself once she interrupted.

“I don’t want this. I never have. I want a life with you. No one understands me like you. No one understands you like me. I’ve been an idiot for almost throwing that away, and I want to try again. A life with you is all I want if you’ll have me.” The impulsive desire in her voice was nearing ridiculousness, but after years of memories with her, he could see her sincerity and felt himself complying all too easily.

“Are you sure? You’ll be giving everything up.” Any tension building in her body melted at his statement, a delirious smile curling her lips.

“I won’t be.” He soaked in everything she was at those words, the knowing glimmer in her eye, the cherry of her cheeks, the quaking of her hands in his, the warmth of her face under his palm, and in a heartbeat, he nodded, pulling her to her feet and across the room.

“My car is out back. We’ll have to cross people to get there.” His voice shook, but despite his nervosity, he was reaching for her bag and belongings, eager to escape their predicament, to usher her out the door and to the future he’d only seen in dreams.

“Wait.” A cold fear shuddered down his spine at the singular word, turning to watch her remove the garish diamond from her ring finger, placing it decisively on the wooden credenza against the wall. The anxiety vanished at her relaxed grin, and upon sending her a similar charming smile, he was yanking her away from a life wrapped in stiff taffeta and into his yearning arms.

And maybe she was right. That gown hardly suited her. She deserved something she felt beautiful in, and anything less was unacceptable. Akaashi would make sure that happened.

#akaashi keiji #akaashi x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #akaashi haikyuu #akaashi keiji x reader #akaashi imagine #akaashi fluff #akaashi x you #haikyuu fics #hq x reader

[posallys]

i saw a post about percy and poseidon and i figured i'd drop this stupid little headcanon i have here (i also take stuff from this analysis, so go read that mayhaps)

Ya know how we’ve established i think that Percy’s fatal flaw should be control and not loyalty? And how I talked about the whole “Percy and Poseidon are quick to anger” thing in my analysis of them? And how it’s literally in their nature to want to be in control of everything around them?

okay, well, for whatever reason, percy is on olympus (maybe a solstice? maybe annabeth is talking about stuff for her rebuild? idk)

and a god somebody says something and it he gets pissed, and since his emotions are so closely linked with his powers, he accidentally triggers an earthquake

except, poseidon could obviously tell that there was going to be an earthquake bc he could feel it, so he just kind of pops in front of percy and grabs his wrists/hands and is like "that's an awfully big earthquake you almost caused, ya know."

And Percy’s kind of shaking because he could feel the way the anger took over and how he couldn’t stop the earthquake himself. He was trying so hard to restrain it, to hold it back, but he couldn’t.

He doesn’t really say anything to Poseidon, because he’s clenching his jaw to the point that it’s painful, but he looks up at Poseidon, and his eyes kind of give it away.

(and it may not have been obvious to anybody else, but it was obvious to poseidon because he can't even begin to count the amount of times that look has been on his own face)

So Poseidon takes a deep breath and closes his eyes and nods a little (meanwhile the rest of the gods are just like 👀 👀 because percy almost fucked a lot of shit up and poseidon is being very calm and also being a dad and trying to help his kid)

So he lets go of percy's wrists and is like "come with me"

And Percy kind of hesitates for a moment, but then Poseidon is like “It wasn’t a question” because he knows it’s probably the only thing that’ll help, so it’s Not A Question.

(and poseidon knows that he should have done it after the titan war. He should have helped Percy sooner, but he didn’t, so he has to do it now, and he’s going to do it, because he's not going to let percy keep walking blindly through the mess that is their powers)

Poseidon does some god shit and flashes them out to like. The middle of fucking nowhere. like just creates a little slab of land in the middle of the ocean. nothing around for hundreds of miles except open water

Percy just looks at him like wtf? "Dad, why are we in the middle of the ocean??"

And Poseidon just kind of chuckles and is like “yeah, actually, we are in the middle of the ocean. This is the point that’s as far from any land that you can get.”

“Uh? Why?”

“Because it gives me enough time to stop any damage before it happens.”

Percy’s like “???? what damage?? Pls explain”

“I should have done this after the titan war, Percy. I should have—well it doesn’t matter what I should have done. You have to learn how to let go, and I’m going to help you.”

And Percy doesn’t like the idea of that. He doesn’t want to let go. He doesn’t trust himself not to hurt someone or cause destruction (after all, his name means to destroy).

He must be making a face because Poseidon looks at him sympathetically.

“I know it’s hard, Percy. Believe me, I know better than anyone.”

Poseidon pauses for a moment and then continues… “How do you survive a riptide?” he asks.

Percy answers immediately. “You have to let it pull you out. Eventually, it’ll let you go out the side or the back. You don’t want to fight it, though, because you’ll probably drown trying.”

Poseidon purses his lips and nods, and Percy’s looking at him confused for a moment, trying to figure out why his dad asked about a riptide (because Poseidon obviously knows how they work).

And then he Gets It. “You mean...I have to stop fighting…”

“You have to let go. You have to let yourself be carried out sometimes. The longer you fight, the more tired you get, and the worse it becomes. The sea doesn’t like to be restrained, Percy.”

“But I—” Percy’s voice cracks

“I know you don’t want to, but I promise you, it helps.”

Percy nods and lets Poseidon tell him what to do.

Poseidon tells him to scream. To really let everything out. “I know, I know, you’ll probably feel stupid doing it, but do it anyway. No restraints, no worries. let it flow out of you.”

And so he does. He screams the way he’s wanted to for what’s felt like forever at this point. And the ocean responds to him. It responds to his frustration and his anger and his pain. And the waves are rough and choppy and the sky is turning a shade of grey, and the ground is trembling, and then the waves are getting higher and higher and they’re building, building, building, and then they’re crashing onto the ground around him.

And it feels good, really. To let go. to not have to restrain himself

And Poseidon is there watching him (and he’d stop anything Percy may cause before it got to a place where it could cause harm (there’s a reason they’re in the middle of the ocean, after all)).

And Percy’s scream dies out, and he sits down and he breaths and he feels like the world has been lifted off of his shoulders again.

But he’s not done yet because Poseidon is coaching him through things, making Percy create earthquakes and hurricanes and tsunamis, helping him find the balance between controlling them and letting them control him.

And then poseidon teaches him how to release his anger. He walks Percy through the steps. Start with your hands; unclench your fists. Relax your arms, your shoulders. Roll them out, hold yourself up straight. Unclench your jaw, stretch your neck out. Don’t hold the anger back, but don’t let it consume you. You have to change it, you have to feel it. Let it move through you like water flowing down a river. Feel it in your arms and your fingers and your legs, but then push it out. Not aggressively—calm. It has to be calm. You have to let it carry you to a certain point, but you can’t struggle. It’s a riptide, Percy. Once you surrender to it, you can escape it. Once you surrender to it, you really have control.

And it works. Percy goes through the steps, slowly relaxing himself, letting it move through him until it’s no longer anger and he no longer feels like he’s being crushed.

“I caused a lot of destruction when I was a younger god, Percy. I didn’t have a good grip over my anger. It took me a long time to figure out that, while I may control the ocean, the ocean also controls me. Do you know why? Because I am the ocean, and so are you. The ocean is inside of you, and you must find the balance between controlling and being controlled.”

“How often do you do this?”

“Every few months. It’s easy to get caught in the cycle of control again. It’s in our nature to want to be in control, so conceding isn’t easy for us. So when I feel myself on edge, when I start angering quicker, I come here and I let go.”

So they make a habit out of it. They come out to the middle of the ocean every other month, or about as often as either of them needs it, and they let go, and Percy slowly gets better at becoming one with the ocean, better at finding the balance.

(and then they go to this diner in Montauk that Poseidon has a weird obsession with….)

And when Estelle is older, the three of them take the trip out to the middle of the ocean together, and they teach Estelle how to find balance. And she’s younger than Percy was, so her anger hasn’t had time to peak.

Unlike Percy, whose anger is silent, sneaky, creeping up out of nowhere (the way he’s smiling one moment and lashing out the next) Estelle’s anger was a storm you could see coming a hundred miles away. Her anger brews on the horizon, building and building, slowly getting bigger until there's nothing left but for it to shatter. Which makes it easier, really. She’s better at letting go than Percy is—she has time to let it dissipate before it reaches her.

#yes estelle is a demigod no i don't make the rules sorry #i feel like this is really hard to read so i apologize #but i have Thoughts #and this is just one of them #taylor's thoughts

[fenristheorem]

Hi can we ask you nsfw headcanons for lance please?

Oh hell yea you can! I suppose since you asked kindly. 😉

*Note: This post is completely nsfw - as asked for - and is, therefore, descriptive and filthy and has lots of swears. There are absolutely no safe / non-descriptive parts through this, so don’t read if you’re uncomfortable with descriptive sexual situations or explicit language.

Also, I sort of inserted Guardienne into this - rather than leaving this without mention of a partner - for the sake of being able to describe things easier.

~Under the cut~

General nsfw for Lance:

To start off, Lance is likely quite large. He’s very tall and is probably very muscular (considering his profession) noticeably very muscular (thanks episode 4), and while that doesn’t necessarily mean that he’s large, it’s clear that his genetics have left him gifted with height and a masculine body (broad shoulders, high cheekbones, etc.) so that likely translates to his manhood as well. He’s not the largest male to ever exist, but he’s certainly larger than average and is generously thick. He has one or two prominent veins that run jaggedly down his length, and leans slightly to the side when fully hardened. His grooming routine is very basic - just enough to keep from things being unmanageable down there - and is completely flexible if his partner would like him to shave or grow out a bit more.

Lance hasn’t had sex for nearly as long as he can clearly remember - and those memories are usually overwritten with nauseating whispers that remind him that that was during a time when he was naive and spiraling towards an inevitable downfall into madness and destruction against Eldarya - so the first time he experiences these kind, pleasurable touches again, when he’s stable and with a clear mind, it’s intense and he truly embraces the feel. He falls into her with a heat and passion that he’s long since forgotten, but has now been remembered and revived by her presence and want for this. However, once the first time is over - it’s over. It stays with him always, though - it was his first time with a woman in years and the first time since he’s righted himself.

His manner changes in time - but only to some degree. He’s less quickly taken by the pleasure and can hold out longer, and he finds that he really likes to torture her with long bouts of foreplay when he can finally manage to restrain himself for that. Of course, he needs to be in a certain mood to do that. It’s much more common for him to tease her until she’s moaning and wet for him, and then let himself indulge in her slick warmth until he loses himself in her. Those times where he tortures her with long, relentless forms of foreplay happen only when he knows he can hold out for hours watching her writhe and moan and pant beneath him, holding her down as sweat glosses her skin and her desperation leaves her begging for him.

That being said: sex becomes a major outlet for him. He’s a warrior, so it’s common for him to practice his fighting skills against other members of the Obsidian guard and release energy and emotions that way, but it’s not very intimate - he has a lot of future opportunities to practice his skills and it gets tiring to be constantly pummeled with attacks - and it does get a bit boring when you learn each and every colleague’s tactics and know so many tactics yourself that it’s not very hard to win. Late nights spent with his woman become cherished moments in between his routine life of fighting, trying to forgive himself, and making sure everyone is kept in check. There are times where he’s soft, gentle - tracing his fingers over her skin as he breathes in her scent and basks in her warmth and kind touch. He’ll take her slowly, keeping their lips locked in deep, passionate kisses while holding her close as he makes love to her. However, there are also times where he fucks to forget. Memories will come upon him - all bad and unwelcoming to the point where he nearly isolates himself for the day to attempt to hopelessly mend himself - or the day will be overly stressful with no feelings of hope, and he’ll take comfort in the pain that lashes across his back as she claws at him, or the way her lewd screams for him will drown out his own internal screams desperately wishing that things turned out differently. He’ll find himself fucking into her until he can’t possibly think of moving afterward - when he seeks to curl up into her arms and sleep away his troubles - and when she’s nearly crying from the erotic pleasure he drowns her in, he’ll be forgetting what it was like for him to have ever been in agony of any sort.

He doesn’t like that second form of sex very much. It’s enjoyable when they’re both in the mood to be rough and fuck each other up, but the mentality he’s in then versus when he fucks because he needs the distraction is very different. He enjoys rough sex on the occasion, but he hates sex that's used to forget and wear himself out - but he’s not sure of any other tactics that will ease him of that pain in the same way rough sex does.

Just as he enjoys rough sex (normal rough sex, not the desperate-to-forget type), he also enjoys softer forms of sex. After years upon years of doing nothing but fighting and suffering in pain, it’s nice to be able to embrace his partner with soft, kind touches as he presses into her - knowing that he could easily go for hours on end and countless rounds without growing tired of the passionate yet relaxed pace he sets. Her touch is gentle and welcoming, always pulling him closer and running over his form as she kisses him sweetly. Occasionally a thought, a comparison sparked from her gentleness, will run through his mind - a reminder that he’s agonized through so much in his fucked up life - but it’s quickly, easily dismissed as he recognizes that things are different now. He has her, and as he anchors his partner completely against him, grinding his hips against hers and filling her slowly again and again, his thoughts are washed away in another way - a subtle, quiet way that’s almost bittersweet until he no longer remembers what began to eat at him. Lance likes to truly embrace her in these soft moments; gently holding her thighs to keep her open for him, resting his forehead against hers and keeping affectionate eye contact, softly tracing the sensitive parts of her skin with a brush of his calloused fingers, pressing passionate, slow kisses to her lips and neck as he urges her to hold him closer. He’ll never once falter as he moves within her, wishing to portray through his touch what words could never say; wishing she could even begin to grasp just how much her companionship means to him.

Rough sex is typically used for him to forget, soft sex is used for him to truly love her.

In terms of where they have sex; he’s not afraid to be a bit adventurous. Although he feels most safe in their bedroom, sometimes the urge is just so overwhelming that he needs to have her in the middle of the day. So take her to their room and have his way with her? Nope, he's been fantasizing about taking her on the conference room table, so that's where it's going to happen if there's no one around. He’ll assess her first, making sure she’s not in a bad mood that could interfere with his advancements and cause a possible scene, and then drag her - subtly - to a secluded corner of the guard and have his way with her, be it on a table, against the wall, or even if he needs to hold her up without any other support - he’s a warrior, he has the strength to suspend her weight on his own. Lance will typically find a place where no one really visits to do this, but occasionally they’ll feel very risky and have a quick round in a currently quiet but semi-active place. Let’s just say that they’ll never view the forge or conference room in the same way... These times in semi-active places are usually pretty late at night, though - when Lance is working a late night at the forge or they know the conference room won’t be busy for a few hours... usually.

An important thing to know is that he sees sex in a very instinctual, carnal way. He’s deeply in tune with his emotions and - being a dragon - his instincts as well. For him, sex is a great way to connect with his partner and blow off steam, but he makes it clear early on that - while he can control himself and back off if she needs a moment to breathe - he can only control himself so much during the moment. Sex is emotional and instinctual; if she’s giving no signs of being uncomfortable then he’s just as much a victim of his overwhelming desires that submerge him in violent torrents of racking need in the same way he does to her. For this reason, their safe-words and touches (in the case where they can’t speak) are very clear and easy to recognize, so he can be quick to realize her distress and reign himself in to back off. The last thing Lance wants is to accidentally hurt her or make her uncomfortable about joining him in bed again - or being around him in general after seeing him in such a vulnerable, feral state - so before they get into anything too crazy he’s quick to communicate concerns with her and form ideas to assure nothing goes wrong. 

Lance would never in a million years reveal his kinks... and Guardienne would be rendered speechless with her face the color of a sunset at a reminder of those nights. What kinks Lance is into that night depends on his mood really. Some days, when he’s feeling good - assertive and possessive - and he’ll advance on her confidently. He’ll pin her down on the bed, holding her wrists above her with one hand while the other evokes his powers to make the skin of his hand ice cold as it ghosts over her in specific ways that perk her senses. Lance may take a soft rope or fabric and tie her wrists or blindfold her - even better if it’s both - and purposefully leave her untouched for a certain amount of time. She’ll grow shy as she knows he’s admiring every part of her, but she won’t have long to think about it before he starts to touch her - the pad of his thumb brushing over her nipple before gently pinching, his other hand ghosting up her inner thigh to rest near her slit, his mouth trailing along her lower abdomen as he kisses lower and lower until his tongue laps at her. The air in the room will grow cold around her as she arches her back and moans, writhing softly against her restraints and his warm touch as the hand Lance rested on her thigh joins his ministrations directly between her legs. Later on, when he’s so deep inside her dripping warmth that his head spins, he’ll take her neck in hand and squeeze, ice blue eyes meeting her lustful gaze with a heat of his own as he fucks her and chokes her. He won’t mind if she claws haphazardly at him - he has scars already, what are a few more that were received during their passionate, late-night romps? Lance isn’t worried about if he’s too rough, either; he’s treated her way worse in the past and they’ve established a clear network of terms and touches if either of them need a break or can’t handle something at the moment.

He’ll enjoy dirty talk as well, whether it’s him or her speaking - although he really enjoys her responses to his comments. His voice will drop octaves lower, a rumbling rasp taking his voice as he speaks and says the most filthy things to her with a faint cruel grin. Some days she’s easily taken by pleasurable touches he inflicts on her, readily begging and pleading for him to appease her needs as she submits to him. Other days she’ll want a fight, responding to his commands with witty remarks - sparked only because she likes the way he looks at her when he’s defied - that urge him to growl and stare at her with burning eyes as he fantasizes her impending surrender. Occasionally those witty remarks - followed by more sensual pressuring from his end - turn into deals; she’ll do this, as he’s been demanding, as long as he allows her to do this to him afterwards. These agreements are nearly always accepted, only rejected in the rare case where Lance couldn’t possibly hold out that long for her to tease him in a certain way, but when they’re accepted they’ve always yielded tantalizing results.

Don’t even begin to tempt him with a good pair of lingerie, though. Sex, again, is a very instinctual, feral thing for him. He has a very hard time controlling his impulses when they’re evoked while his partner is around, especially in private, so when she purposefully tempts him - knowing very well how fragile his sexual self-control is - by sitting him down and stripping and waltzing around his room with nothing but thin, taunting underwear on he nearly loses himself completely. Guardienne knows to use caution when bearing lingerie - it has a heavy effect on Lance as it’s almost guaranteed to throw him into a fit of blind lust, picking her up and throwing her on the bed or pinning her against the wall to hold her still and stare down at her, burning the image into his mind before having his way with her. However, once in a while, Lance will sit obediently as she bears herself, only just faintly breathing as he watches her move in alluring, seductive ways that leave his cock aching and his skin shivering. He’ll wait patiently for her to come to him, but once she settles on his lap she’s fair game, and he’ll quickly take her under him to attack her. He makes a point not to tear the underwear though - he wants to see it again in the future.

He’s fine with nearly any position she wants at the moment, but he does have a few favorites. He loves missionary for a multitude of reasons; he can watch every expression that flits across her features, hear her lewd moans and pleads better (he doesn’t care if that makes her a bit louder than what he’s usually comfortable with), hold her in a variety of ways ranging from possessively / aggressively pinning her down, to tenderly / sensually laying completely against her, he can adjust her legs or entwine their fingers, and kiss her whenever he wishes (which is especially helpful if he feels she’s becoming loud enough to hear through the walls). Doggy is a favorite as well; it’s nice to rest his weight on her back as he grasps her hips and ruts into her, kissing and biting at the back of her neck and having the freedom to wrap his arms completely around her to pull her back into him. He’ll happily hold her up against a wall (or nothing at all) with her legs around his waist or suspended by his forearms, and will eagerly bend her over a table, or - if they’re truly desperate enough to revert to that sort of animalism - will take her right on the floor if they can find a comfortable position. Occasionally Guardienne will ride him, and while he’ll gladly take to controlling the situation from below, he’ll also enjoy being allowed to lay there watching and basking in the wonderful pleasure she inflicts on him.

He knows all of his partner’s sensitive spots; he’s explored her body many times over and purposely takes to memorizing (and testing) which spots make her tick for the sole sake of knowing how to rile her up whenever he wants. It took his partner a bit longer to learn his sensitive spots, but through the deals they’ve made she’s managed to hold him down long enough to discover these gems (yes, she’s had Lance tied up helpless in front of her multiple times to discover this stuff, it’s a sight to behold.) Of course there are the typical sensitive spots like the neck, lips, pelvis, etc., but she’s found a few other specifics in time. Pulling at his hair, gently biting the muscle just behind and below his ear, nipping at his ear, and digging her nails into the lower back of his neck are a few spots that have been discovered over time, bound to draw a rough grunt or a growl from him as he grips her hips or jerks aggressively against his bindings. Clawing at his lower back when she’s under him, especially paired with clinging tightly to him, provokes an assertive quality within that leads him to hold his hips against tightly hers and anchor his upper body around her as he moves within her core without breaking away from her. When she rides him, pressing her hands into the muscles of his lower abdomen while her hips roll rhythmically against his spurs him to arch his back just slightly in an attempt to lift his hips from the bed, beautifully tensing his body in response to her surging movements as he grunts and heaves a breath.

In the end, it matters less on what and where his sensitive spots are, and more on how she uses it to her advantage. His partner will have the most unrestricted access to these spots when his wrists are tied and immovable from above his head - although she doesn’t really like to blindfold him as she can’t see his burning, icy eyes as they lock onto her or flick closed in moments of ecstasy - and they’ve learned in time that they need to use soft rope or chains to keep him bound. Any thinner material and the hold will snap under his strength as he loses himself to the occasional struggle against his restrains, seeking in the moment only to escape and throw her under him so he can have his way with her. The first time they realized this was a rather surprising but thrilling experience... However, when they finally manage to find a material that can withstand his strength, his partner will be the one who needs to hold back on her desires for a while now - for the sake of watching how Lance’s scarred, tanned skin tightens around hard muscles as he groans and pants under her teasing ministrations. Faint beads of sweat will accumulate on his skin, casting a beautiful sheen over him while she kisses and nips at his skin, one delicate hand braced on his lower abdomen while the other brushes along his strong hips, touching anywhere but his hardened, twitching cock as pre-cum wells at the tip. All of the teasing of his sensitive spots are just foreplay up until the point where she finally moves lower, settling down at his hips to take his length into her mouth, dragging her tongue along him and sucking at his head as he growls, snarls, and pulls against his restrains until she’s finally waited enough and leans over him to sink down onto his thickness with a moan. His muscles will ripple under gleaming skin as he fights the clattering restraints again, his partner pulling the hair at the nape of his neck while sucking and nibbling at his upper neck as he grunts husky, cavernous moans. Much of the time she’ll need to make sure he isn’t accidentally pulling himself higher on the bed as he flexes his arms - this is usually solved by anchoring her weight onto his lower abdomen or hips - as he certainly has the strength to do so with ease, and she’ll need to brace herself when she finally releases him from his restrains; he’ll grasp her without mercy and throw his weight on top of her to pin her down and fuck into her at a breathtaking pace - and this is also how she found out that digging her nails into his lower back reinforces his dominating behavior.

This leads to his manner in bed. Lance is quite adaptable with how he treats her - always assuring that she’s enjoying, of course - and his spectrum can range from being a gentleman and taking her softly and quietly to gripping at her ruthlessly and fucking her so hard it’s a miracle that the bed doesn’t break and neighbors don’t complain. The nature of their sex depends on both their moods - if they’re both feeling content and affectionate then that’ll likely translate into tender, slow touches that glide warmly along their skin, passionate kisses and soft moans as they embrace not just a bonding between their physical forms, but also a bonding on a deeper level of their existence. In the times where they’re feeling frisky and searching for a challenge, they’ll wrestle on the bed - fighting for dominance of the situation with tantalizing touches and sultry words - until Lance inevitably pins her down permanently. From this point, he’ll either torture her with pleasurably agonizing touches or she’ll strike a deal with him, agreeing to let her have control if these certain demands are met at some point. However, sometimes they don’t even need to make a deal - Lance is completely fine with being the one writhing beneath her for a change some days, all she needs to do is ask.

Just as Lance enjoys seeing his partner gasping helplessly beneath him, he also enjoys nights where their roles are reversed. He’s completely fine being bound, choked, bitten and clawed at - hell, sometimes he urges her to do so - enjoying seeing her submit to her desires and also because he enjoys the way he loses himself in his instincts as he growls, fights restraints, and grows lightheaded as pleasure overwhelms him. He views sex as an instinctual thing, but he doesn’t always let himself succumb completely to his desires as he knows it may be too overwhelming for her sometimes, so instead of exhausting her whenever he seeks to lose control, he let’s himself be bound so he can submit to his impulses as much as he wants while drawing their appetite out and giving her the satisfaction of the control as she watches him lose himself. His partner learns in time, too, that she can be as rough as she wants with him - especially when he truly succumbs to his carnal instincts - even to the point of drawing blood and leaving scars; he’s a powerful warrior, familiar with pain as it is, and isn’t afraid to incorporate that into his sex life if she’s in the mood to include it.

Lance is very versatile - he can be rough and demanding or soft and affectionate, but he’ll always portray himself in a very feral manner, whether he wants to or not. Due to this, sleeping with him isn’t for the faint of heart. This man would happily drown himself in a full, long night of overwhelming ecstasy with his partner, so she’ll need to be prepared for that possibility by having in-depth knowledge of his weak spots and what makes him tick if she wishes to survive the night and still walk in the morning. Fortunately, once she learns how he works, she shouldn’t have much of an issue in spending long nights with him - but she will need to remain cautious; the more she uses these pleasing tactics, the more he loses himself to his demanding instincts that tell him to pin her down and fuck her until the sun rises. Like that time where they found out that a mere thin cloth wouldn’t bind him; if she’s not careful she could find herself suddenly, unexpectedly beneath a passionately simmering dragon. Although, those times where he accidentally gains the upper hand in a fit of carnal aggression do seem to be much more thrilling and rewarding than when they expected him to be the dominant one...

I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of writing nsfw for Lance lol. I tried to cover a lot of different topics, but there’s certainly more that could be talked about, so I’m happy to do a part 2 if anyone wants to request it.

Thank you for requesting!

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[aka-indulgence]

Stealing You for a Moment

Commissioned by @yeosin-n​ !!

Thanks for commissioning me you cutie ;>

Ao3 link

(US!Sans/Reader ... and UT!Sans/Reader)

(There’s polyamory in this, only reader and Sans and not between hims!)

Blue is tired of not having enough private time with you.

So he kidnaps you for a date (again?!).

(like said, there’s Fake kidnapping in this! He just steals you for a date really. Also suggestive themes! Fluffy, but also Blue gets pretty hot and smooch-y!)

“I’VE GOT YOU NOW, MY DEAR...” A voice says in your ear.

You’re pulled flush against your captor’s chest, and you’re squirming a little against the arms that were holding you.

Request* by yeo_sin! She wanted fluff with US!Sans while also throwing in a bit of "chill" kidnapping because hey, I can't complain about a bit of fictional kidnapping uwu

It had been any other day. You were at home, walking through a hallway when your skin pricked from the sudden presence you felt behind you. Gloved hands had come over your face before you tried to turn to look at your sudden visitor. It covered your face and mouth, stopping any scream you’d thought to let out.

You’d be panicking, screaming and hitting at the man who held you if you didn’t know there were only 4 skeletons in this world... even if his hands were gloved, you could feel the bone over his clothes.

Oh... what is he up to this time? You thought, withholding a sigh.

“IT’S BEEN ENTIRELY TOO LONG SINCE I’VE HAD THE CHANCE TO JUST BE... ALONE WITH YOU, AND I’M TIRED OF IT.” the ‘mysterious skeleton’ spoke against your ear, his teeth brushing your skin and making you tingle.

“IT’S TIME I TAKE MATTERS INTO MY OWN HANDS.” you felt his smile against your cheek, and he pulled you as he took a step back. You feel the air shift around you, the still air of your home suddenly replaced with light wind brushing your skin.

He must be in one of those moods if Blue was actually using his often-neglected ability to teleport. Blue slides his hands off your face, trailing over your back and brushing your arms before one of

them settles on your shoulder, pulling you close.

You open your eyes to see that he’s brought you to a pond park, sunlight glimmering on quiet, calm waters in the middle, pond reeds sticking out of with lots of grass surrounding it. You hear the sound of nature, chirping birds and buzzing bugs around you.

You’re too busy looking at the pretty scenery and the breath of fresh air to realize that Blue’s hands are on your wrist, with you pulling them away when you felt something hard and cool on them- followed by a click.

“Blue, what-” you exclaim, feeling a tug on your hand when you try to yank your hand away from him. You look down to see there’s a hand-cuff on your wrist(???), connecting your right hand to Blue’s left.

You give him a puzzling look, and Blue only chuckles in response. He brings his free hand to your face, ever so gently cupping your cheek to tilt your face up, and kisses you. You close your eyes and melt into it (it’d take a lot to make you reject a kiss from him ), enjoying the way his teeth shifts against your lips.

“LIKE I SAID BEFORE, MY DEAR...” he murmurs heatedly against your lips, “I’VE MISSED YOU.”

Blue pulls away from you, to look at how red your face had become, practically having swirly eyes from the kiss.

“I GROW TIRED OF ALWAYS BEING INTERRUPTED BY OTHERS WHEN I’M TRYING TO JUST BE ALONE WITH YOU, ALWAYS HAVING SOMEONE ELSE AROUND, GETTING IN THE WAY...” he holds your chin with his fingers, brushing your jaw.

There’s an ominous glow in his eyelights “I CAN BE PATIENT WHEN I NEED TO BE. But,” he lowers his voice, “When It Comes To You, My Beloved (Y/n), I Find My Patience To Be Lacking.”

He smirks, brushing your hair behind your ears, and it takes everything in you not to squeak, bringing your free hand to cover your practically-tomato face. Your heart was going badonkers in your chest, and you bite your lip to make a restrained ‘Mmmf!!’ sound.

You try and fail to ignore the shivers going through you from how intensely Blue seems to be staring at you, and cool your face down. You give him a glance and lid your eyelids at your kidnapping skeleton.

“Oh yeah? What’re you gonna do?” ‘This time?’ you leave the addition in your mind, unsaid. You blink prettily at him, looking from under your lashes, trying to look coy. It apparently works, because when Blue looks at you, his grin twitches dangerously upwards.

“ARE YOU CHALLENGING ME? YOU KNOW THAT’S NOT A GOOD IDEA.” He grabs ahold of your hands and leans in closer to your face. “I’M GOING TO GIVE US A

GOOD TIME...” He tugs you along, being all mysterious and sinister, and shows you exactly what he has in store

for you, which... Is this a picnic?

A classic picnic setup was in front of you. A red and white plaid blanket spread open neatly over the grass, a wicker basket on its corner with one of the lids opened, with some of its contents already on display in the middle. They looked delicious too, with colorful fruits, bread and jam on the side.

You wanted to take a picture- it just looked like the perfect picnic in a scenic park!- but you didn’t have your phone with you when Blue abducted you, which you realize was probably part of his scheme.

You doubt Blue would appreciate you being on your phone when he was trying to have some quality “kidnapping” time with you.

“Oh no, Blue!” you pretend to sound appalled, holding back a snicker, “you’re stealing me and someone else’s picnic? You scoundrel.”

Your comment catches Blue off guard as he breaks character, his menacing face falling into laughter.

“WHAT? I’M NOT SOME, PETTY LITTLE THIEF! HAHAHAH!” you admire how handsome he looked when he smiled like that, “YOU MUST KNOW THAT I’M A MUCH CLASSIER SKELETON THAN THAT, SUNSHINE, UNLESS THIS REALLY MEANS YOU NEED TO SPEND MORE TIME WITH ME. ONLY THE BEST IS GOOD ENOUGH FOR YOU, FROM THE VERY BEST.”

You giggle, knowing that this skeleton was well backed with evidence to attest to that. After the culinary-enthusiast skeleton’s lessons a while back his cooking has been nothing short of amazing,

and you feel lucky to be able to eat his cooking regularly; especially since he loves cooking for you.

Blue leads you to the blanket and brings you to sit down on it- and by that, it means that he sits down suddenly, bringing you down with him- ending up with you caught in his crossed legs.

You look up at him. “Ah... heheh... I should...” you push lightly against his chest, pursing your lips; knowing your cheeks must be pink. You practically crawl out from between his legs, but before you can make any space between him and you, Blue holds your arm and pulls you against his side.

“WHY ARE YOU MOVING AWAY, (Y/N)? COME ON, YOU KNOW THERE’S NO NEED TO BE SHY WITH ME,” his cuffed hand holds yours, “GET COMFORTABLE. I CAN’T STAND BEING APART FROM YOU, EVEN IF IT’S A LITTLE BIT.”

Your heart flutters a little from how affectionate he’s being; though he isn’t bigger than you, somehow you feel like you’ve shrunk next to him. You try to laugh it off, “Hah, well, I mean I don’t mind but, don’t you think people are going to- mrrf!”

Blue had put a strawberry against your lips, holding onto its leaves. He’s giving you that smug look again- that expression when he knows you like what he’s doing. You tentatively take a bite of it, chewing slowly and tasting the juice as it breaks down in your mouth.

“You Know I Don’t Care About Anyone Seeing This, My Loved,” he winks at you, his voice slow and deliberate.

You swallow your strawberry hard and laugh nervously. “Oh... please don’t kill me like this,” you sigh, covering your face, “I can only handle so much.”

Blue chuckles, pulling the plate with the bread on it and the jar next to it. He leans in closer to you, “Cute.” and gives you a peck on the head.

You make a little squeak and slap his femur, which makes him laugh even harder.

“I’m gonna die, Blue,” you say dramatically, taking another strawberry to gnaw on. “Goodbye... this is the end for me,”

Blue snickers, and you miss him rolling his eyelights a little when you’re slouched against him, pretending to pass out. He jostles you a little and says “HEY, YOU CAN’T DIE NOW. DON’T YOU WANT TO SEE THE TEA SET I’VE BROUGHT FOR US?”

That wakes you up pretty much instantly, eyes sparkling at your boyfriend. “You brought a tea set!?”

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

Teacups and saucers were set in front of you, the porcelain pot in the middle, still steaming from its airhole and its spout. Next to it was a fancy three-tier cake stand, with an assortment of baked goods. A plate with half eaten bread was in front of you, and Blue was pouring himself a glass of fizzy cider.

You were both quiet, looking at the people, monsters, animals that were around the park.

A squirrel skittered across the grass to another tree with another following suit. Ducks were waddling into the pond while dragonflies were flying above it. You saw couples walking hand in hand near the reeds, a pair of friends eating on some sort of blue ice cream ( Oh, was there nice cream around here? ). A bird lands near your blanket, curiously hopping towards you and pecking on some invisible crumbs before flying away.

The tea was delightfully fragrant as you took a sip, watching a bee buzzing around some small flowers, taking some nectar and pollen before flying away.

Your eyes were drawn away when you felt your left hand get picked up by the handcuff. Blue brought his hand over to your shoulder and looked like he wanted to sling it around your neck, but you saw the look on his face when he noticed that your hand was being brought along with his. With his brows furrowed and staring at the cuffs as if it had just offended him made you imagine what kind of thoughts he must be having.

‘CURSE THESE CHAINS! I’VE BEEN BETRAYED BY MY OWN GENIUS PLAN!’

Blue’s eyelights glanced over to you when you giggle, his brows relaxing.

“WHAT?”

You wave your hand though you were still smiling, putting your teacup back down. “No no, it’s just...” you gather your breath, “It seems your plans aren’t so foolproof. You must be swearing yourself that you can’t hold me the way you wanted to, huh?”

“NO, OF COURSE I EXPECTED THIS. I LIKE THESE HANDCUFFS,” Blue insists, “I HAD ONLY FORGOTTEN ABOUT THIS PARTICULAR SETBACK BECAUSE I WAS DISTRACTED BY THIS PLEASANT PICNIC!”

“Aww Blue, don’t be... Blue!” you giggle, missing his sudden change in expression when you made that, “You know you could always just take off the handcuffs.”

Blue raises a brow bone at you. “OH, MY SWEET, WERE YOU ATTEMPTING TO TRICK ME INTO TAKING THE HANDCUFFS OFF FOR YOU?”

“Wh-what? No! I mean, it’s not like I’m going to try to run away from you.” Blue doesn’t seem convinced. “YES, OF COURSE YOU WOULDN’T...” You level him with a slightly peeved look and pout. “Yes, I’m sure I w-”

“YOU KNOW, IF YOU DID TRY, I WOULDN’T MIND. I WOULD LOVE TO PLAY A GAME OF TAG WITH YOU... I KNOW IT WOULD BE JUST FUN TO GET TO CHASE YOU AROUND.”

There’s a look of challenge in Blue’s eyelights, the look of a skeleton who knows that if you did “play tag”, he was going to win.

“You know what! Let’s keep wearing handcuffs.” you turn away, suddenly finding the tea leaves

at the bottom of your teacup very interesting. “I’m having a nice picnic, I don’t really want to get chased around by a spooky scary skeleton.”

Blue chuckles and gives your head a teeth-bonk, pouring more tea to your cup when you pick it up towards him.

You’re not sure if taking a sip of steaming tea is going to help your easily pink face.

“AH, (Y/N),” he sighs while you take a tart from the tiered stand, “ISN’T THIS NICE? GETTING TO BE ALONE TOGETHER, JUST THE TWO OF US.”

“Yeah, this was really fun Blue,” you take a bite out of your tart, “I’m sure you’re enjoying kidnapping a girl just to take me out for a picnic...”

You shrug at him. “You know, you could’ve just asked.”

“THAT’S TRUE. BUT,” Blue tilts his skull at you, “YOU KNOW YOU’RE LYING TO YOURSELF IF YOU SAY YOU DON’T ENJOY IT WHEN I STEAL YOU AWAY FOR THESE MOMENTS.”

You absolutely do not choke on what you’re munching on because of that, because it’s not true and Blue’s the one lying.

“Mm... hmmm.....” you opt to just making vague sounds, finishing about a quarter of your tart in a bite.

Ohhh bad idea , you thought to yourself, drinking the tea to down the snack more easily down your throat.

Peeking from behind the cup, you see Blue pointing at your face. “OH, (Y/N), YOU’VE GOT SOMETHING ON YOUR...”

“Hm?” you sound, licking behind the residue tea around your lips. “Did I get it?”

“NO NO, IT’S STILL THERE,” Blue frowns, “HERE, LET ME GET IT FOR YOU.”

He reaches for you, only to miss your face and instead of going into your hair behind your head, and leans in close.

You put your hands against his chest and squeak, “B-Blue, what are you doing!!”

“YOUR TONGUE’S NOT LONG ENOUGH,” Blue smirks as he easily pushes against you, “I’M SIMPLY TRYING TO HELP.”

You squeal as Blue topples you over and he gets on top of you (SOMEONE SAVE ME) and kisses you, feeling his tongue skirting over your lips to ‘clean you up’ before quickly slipping into your mouth and making you feel warm.

“A-aaah Blue!” you yelp as he moves to pepper kisses all over your face, on your cheek, your forehead, “S-stop aaah!”

“MMMM,” he hums in between kisses, “YOU’RE JUST TOO CUTE, (Y/N), YOU CAN’T EXPECT ME TO STOP,”

You feel him smile, holding your hands and interlocking fingers.

“Eeep!” you peep, when you feel him kissing on your neck, slow, warm breaths against your clavicle. A part of you was reeling at the fact that he was being so- so!! Like this with you, right now, where anyone could so easily see you, but another part of you...

Who cares?

He certainly won’t stop just to be decent around other people in his private time with you, and you didn’t exactly want him to stop either.

Blue kisses you until you feel like your face is on fire, finally pushing himself off of you and pulling your hand to sit you up like a proper gentleman.

“I TOLD YOU, YOU’RE NOT GOING ANYWHERE,” he gives you another tug so you fall into his chest face first, hands forced to grip onto him, “NOT EVEN PULLING AWAY FROM A KISS!”

I take back ‘proper gentleman’ , you thought, pushing slightly against Blue’s shirt so your face wasn’t squished up against it.

The remainder of the picnic has you trying to peacefully eat your food while Blue keeps teasing you, though thankfully for your heart, he was merciful enough not to try to fluster you more than you already have.

(To be honest, you’re pretty sure he’s saving that for later.) When the plates have nothing but crumbs on them, the teapot no longer steams, you and Blue

decide to just bring the rest of the cider home.

You try to help out with cleaning up, but Blue had insisted on cleaning up himself. Halfway through you asking “How are you going to clean up while you’re handcuffed to me”, he had efficiently put the bigger objects back in the basket, stacking plates and putting the tea set back in its place. He simply plopped you on the grass to fold the blanket one-hand, and soon enough he had neatly put everything in the basket.

“DON’T UNDERESTIMATE ME, I AM NOT MY BROTHER!” Blue proudly said.

Now, he had taken your hand, basket in the other, and you were walking along the trail around the pond.

Both of you had simply ignored any weird looks and double-takes when people had passed by and spotted the handcuffs; even when you wanted to react, Blue had turned you to face him (“PAY ATTENTION TO ME, (Y/N),” with a meaningful smile on his face).

When he was satisfied with your attention, you looked at the pond. You had gotten slightly distracted by the quacking ducks, ducklings peeping and looking like they wiggled through the water, when you were rudely tugged by the handcuff to Blue’s side.

“Hey!” you protest as your feet caught up to you, “what was that for?”

“YOU WERE GETTING TOO FAR THERE, SUNSHINE!” Blue warns, a little too cheerful that you know he’s playing the part of ‘possessive kidnapper’ again. “BE A DUCKLING AND FOLLOW ME CLOSELY, ALRIGHT?”

You snorted a little. “It sounds less intimidating when you call me a duckling, Blue. And I wasn’t getting that far!”

“I CAN’T LOSE A SINGLE PRECIOUS MOMENT OF ALONE TIME WITH YOU, DARLING!” Blue proclaims, “AND AS I TOLD YOU, I LIKE THESE HANDCUFFS.”

He demonstrates by tugging your wrist closer to his face, then taking your hand to kiss your knuckles. It surprised a fluster laugh at you, eyes darting away for a moment to see if anyone was looking.

No one was, thank goodness.

You did however, see a Nice Cream vendor nearby, and this time you tugged on Blue to bring his attention to it.

“Nice Cream, Blue! Can we get some?” you put on your pleading face, in case Blue insisted on tugging you along this walk, but it seemed you didn’t need to.

Blue chuckled, “YES, OF COURSE! ANYTHING FOR MY SPECIAL GIRLFRIEND.”

You approach the cart and Blue gets you one Nice Cream, saying that “I DON’T NEED A NICE CREAM TO FEEL NICE, WHEN I HAVE YOU WITH ME!” that had made you both giggle and flush in the slightest. It was obvious the bunny vendor that handed you the sweet treat was eyeing the handcuffs, but to his credit he had withdrawn any weird faces he was about to make and was perfectly polite and cheerful.

“THANK YOU!” Blue waved to him as he walked with you again, then quietly, “My, I’m Still Not Used To Him Being So Cheerful...”

You laugh at the weird face Blue makes and take a bite of your bar of nice cream. You have the sudden impression that you look cute today!

Blue gives you a quizzical look when you put a hand over your face. As if he hasn’t told me that enough today!

Before Blue asks you what that was, you ask him, “How do you keep finding these places anyway, Blue?” you turn to him, sucking on your ice cream a little, “it just seems like... you have to go through so much just to find a place for a date?”

Blue sighs. “YOU KNOW VERY WELL WHY I GO THROUGH ALL THE EFFORT TO FIND THESE PLACES! OF COURSE, OTHER THAN MY DATE DESERVING THE BEST , I ALSO CAN’T LET HIM GET IN MY WAY. AS TO HOW I FIND THESE PLACES, WELL... I’D LIKE TO KEEP MY SECRETS AS SECRETS!” He gives you a wink.

“YOU JUST ENJOY IT,” Blue tells you, looking up at the sky as it starts to color with yellows. “THOUGH THE DAY IS LATE. WHAT DO YOU THINK OF CALLING IT A DATE AND GOING HOME?”

“Yeah, I think I’m good.” You nod, “Though, can you take off the ha-?”

You get cut off as your hair stands on its ends when there’s a sudden, familiar , burst of magic in front of you.

Sans stands in front of you, panting in the slightest, the line under his sockets looking especially prominent. He doesn’t look happy as he gives the both of you a once over, looking less so when he sees the handcuff that links you to Blue.

He marches over to you, and Blue raises an innocent hand. “OH HI, S-” “playtime’s over, blue.” He mutters angrily, grabbing the handcuffs and breaking the chains, just

like that.

“i’ve been looking for you all day,” he grumbles, prying open your cuffs forcefully and ignoring Blue’s pleas (“MY HANDCUFFS!”), “do you know how many shortcuts i had to take before i saw you buying nice cream just now?”

“TOO MUCH FOR YOU TO HANDLE, SANS?” Blue pokes his counterpart, met with a look that’s too tired to be a glare.

“blue,” Sans sighs and puts his phalanges against his forehead, before flicking them away and emphatically saying, “you always do this, why??”

Sans and Blue have sort of been having an ‘arm’s race’, in the way that Blue always looks for new places to take you out on dates, and Sans keeps trying to beat him to it so he wouldn’t keep abducting you. Needless to say, at the moment it seems that Sans hasn’t had much luck in ‘winning’.

“WHAT, I CAN’T STEAL OUR GIRLFRIEND FOR JUST A DAY?”

“you’ve clearly been doing this for more than ‘just a day', blue,” Sans sighs, holding onto your hand.

“YOU KNOW YOU HAVE NOTHING TO WORRY ABOUT, SANS. YOU’RE ALWAYS SO PARANOID!” Blue mentions casually, “YOU KNOW NO HARM’S GOING TO BEFALL OUR DEAR HUMAN WHEN I’M WITH HER. ARE YOU WORRIED I’M GOING TO STEAL HER ONE DAY AND NEVER RETURN HER? JEEZ, YOU WORRYWART. YOU’RE GOING TO TEMPT ME!”

“blue, no, ” Sans actually looks slightly distressed (but not too much that you get really worried), “please don’t. i love her, can you just... not kidnap her for a date? what am i supposed to do when i see her phone, unattended, and the owner nowhere to be found?”

“AW, SANS, I COULD LEAVE YOU A STICKY NOTE YOU CAN’T IGNORE NEXT TIME. IT’LL SAY, ‘I’ve Got The Girl, If You Want Her Back Give Me Money’,”

“if you do that, i swear, you won’t be having such a ‘good time’ when i steal her for a change-”

“Ok, ok, that’s enough,” you put your hands on both their chests, before they stop joking and start a fight or something. “You both know of this word called ‘sharing’? I’ve got enough time for the both of you! We’ll have our own date next time, Sans,” you reassure your tired boyfriend, “and we can have a group date too. Please don’t start murdering each other, I like it when you guys play along,”

Sans and Blue trade looks, and both agree that what you proposed sounds quite attractive. Blue reaches for your hand, but Sans pulls you away from him and to his ribcage.

“HEY! I CAN’T HOLD MY GIRLFRIEND’S HAND?” “she’s my girlfriend too, and i think i deserve some time with her after you kidnapped her. again.”

Sans looks more ‘done’ than he does actually angry at Blue that it makes you laugh, and Blue only shrugs at you.

“I SUPPOSE I’LL HAVE TO LOOK FOR A NEW PLACE SOON...”

#commission #commissions #sans x reader #us!sans x reader #i keep forgetting... how to tag on tumblr #also hi yeo ily

[glimmerglanger]

Sooo, I got this prompt from @anstarwar

Hi! I just stayed up til o’dark thirty finishing MYB and just had to hop over and say WOW. Love your writing! If you’re still taking prompts for supplemental stories I’m super curious what happened to Bly when he “woke up?” I just can’t help but think it’d be so devastating for him....I wanna give him a hug....anyways thank you!

AND OOOOF. Well, it’s not going to be a...happy time? For anyone? You’re probably going to want to give him more of a hug after this?

This snippet deals a lot with mind-control related trauma, being forced to kill someone against your will, suicidal ideation/a suicide attempt, and survivor’s guilt. People don’t always handle trauma in a neat and tidy way. This is… NOT neat and tidy, anger is one stage of grief, and something people who are hurt lash out, so lots of warnings for all of that. Past Blyla. A lot of hurt.

~~~~

Bly had some information to work with, by the time the thing in his head just stopped working, between one breath and the next. The thing had controlled his body for a timeless stretch, piloting him around the ship, to his quarters and to the bridge.

It read all the reports issued by the Imperial Command, and so Bly saw them, too.

He’d read that the Vigilance had been taken, taken by traitors in a mutiny, and he’d wanted to cheer, because of course Cody had found a way out, a way around the things in their head. 

He’d read that the Emperor wanted the heads of CC-2224 and the traitor Kenobi and so he’d known, too, that General Kenobi had somehow survived. That Cody had been strong enough to - to not pull the trigger on the Jedi he loved.

Not like Bly, who had leveled his blaster on Aayla’s back and squeezed the trigger and--

He wished he could grab his blaster again, but his body fought him, over and over again, until it just stopped. 

Bly was standing on the bridge when the thing in his head just...went away. There was no warning, no way for him to prepare. One moment, there were restraints around every piece of him and the next they were just gone.

Someone whimpered, across the bridge as Bly stared forward, breathing raggedly, swaying on his feet. His hand moved, automatically, towards the blaster at his hip. His fingers curled around the grip and he had it in hand before Ambler hit him around the chest and bore him to the floor, panting, “Don’t - don’t - please.”

“Get off of me,” Bly rasped out and they were poor first words, ragged and wet. He couldn’t breathe properly. His eyes stung and burned. The entire world had gone blurry. He reached for the blaster again - he’d shot Aayla in the back, his General, his everything, he’d shot her in the back and--

“I can’t,” Ambler said, knee on Bly’s wrist, the weight making his fingers spasm open. “I can’t, sir, I’m sorry.”

And Bly tried to say something, anything, else, but the words wouldn’t come, not for a long time.

#

Ambler refused to give Bly his blaster back, even after Bly got his breathing under control. Bly stared at him, the initial surge of emotion that had come with freedom fading away. He could control it. He had to control it.

Ambler had done the right thing, Bly decided, behind his helmet. He had things he needed to do, before he-- 

Made up for things.

He shook that thought aside. His brothers needed him. They didn’t have a General anymore - he’d seen to that - which meant--which meant they needed Bly to keep them safe. To help them figure out what to do.

He cleared his throat, ignoring the tears drying all over his cheeks under his helmet, and ordered the nat-borns on the ship restrained. And then he started looking for the Vigilance. Cody had gotten them free, he had no doubt. Somehow, the crazy son of a bantha had freed them all, and--

And he was wanted by the Empire. Kriff, they were probably all about to be wanted by the Empire.

Which meant they needed to be together. They’d be safer in greater numbers. “We had a message about some kind of attack on Kamino,” Burr said, from across the bridge, as they tried to figure out where to go. “But the message got cut off.”

“Head there,” Bly said, his voice a ragged mess. It was as good a place to go as any.

#

They found ruination on Kamino, but no sign of Cody or the Vigilance. No sign of any of their little brothers. Whatever had happened on the planet was long over by the time they dropped out of hyperspace.

But there was a buoy, tiny and transmitting on a strange frequency. Circuitboard decoded it while Bly sat in his quarters, staring at the wall, trying not to think of anything, definitely not the way Aayla had looked in his bunk, blue skin peeking out from beneath drab gray blankets, lekku curling softly with pleasure, and--

The buoy was transmitting coordinates, Circuitboard said, when he commed Bly. Bly looked down to find that he’d torn his sheets into long strips. He’d been twisting them, winding them into a long rope.

He stared down at his shaking hands, just for a moment, and gave the order to head to the coordinates, rising to his feet. He felt he should be on the bridge, at least for the start of their journey.

By the time he got back to his quarters, someone had taken away the damaged sheets. They’d taken away a lot of things. The room looked almost bare. Prickle - his new medic - was waiting inside the room, arms crossed, and said, “I can stay in here with you, or you can come to the medbay with me, the choice is yours.”

“Do what you want,” Bly told him, hollow inside, and curled up on the bare bed, not thinking about Aayla’s fingers stroking over his brow or the marks on his cheeks or--

Or anything else.

#

Cody left them a trail of breadcrumbs to follow, like they were playing one of the hunt-and-find games they’d indulged in back on Kamino, years ago. Cody’d always been better at hunting than hiding.

Maybe that was still true, because Bly found the Vigilance in orbit around an ugly gas giant on the borders of Wild Space, a small little flotilla around it. There were two other Venator-class ships by the Vigilance, and for a beat Bly wondered if the entire thing was an Imperial trap, his he and his brothers were about to be shot out of the sky.

He didn’t raise their shields. 

And a moment later familiar voices came over the comms, shouting words of welcome and relief.

#

Cody insisted that Bly come over to the Vigilance. Bly wasn’t sure he technically had to obey Cody’s orders, anymore, but if anyone was in charge of all of them, it had to be Cody, and so he went. 

He stared at the wall of the shuttle, even after it landed. He managed to get to his feet when Cody opened the rear hatch, turning to look at his brother - his batchmate - opening his mouth and then closing it again, before asking, “How the kriff did you do it?”

Cody looked back at him, expression tightly controlled, and said, “It’s a long story.”

Bly just stared at him. He felt...hollow inside. Cody winced, a little, and then exhaled. “Come on,” Cody said, reaching out and gripping his shoulder, “I’ll tell you.” 

#

Bly listened to all of it. He had a feeling, deep in his head, that Cody wasn’t going into the details, but it didn’t really matter. Bly got the gist of it. Cody really had saved his Jedi. Nearly blown up his head to do it, but he had, while Bly had drawn his blaster and--

“Where is he?” Bly asked, sitting in General Kenobi’s quarters - the ones Cody had been living in for years - and staring forward, eyes burning.

“On the bridge,” Cody said, with a little shrug. 

Bly nodded. He remembered what Aayla had looked like, last time she’d been on the bridge, her eyes tired as she looked over holos, one hand bandaged from a fall, lovely and alive and--

“I should get back,” Bly said, standing, because his men were in Cody’s care, now, and, obviously, Cody would take better care of them. Cody’d almost killed himself, proving that, while Bly had just raised his blaster and pulled the trigger and--

“You’re going to stay here,” Cody said, like it wasn’t even a question, in the same tone that had led to them fighting more than once when they were shinies on Kamino, Cody always thinking everyone should just listen to him-- “Catch me up on everything. Get some rest, for a day or two.”

“With all due respect,” Bly said, tone too flat to be sharp, “I’m rested plenty.”

“I talked to Prickle,” Cody said, and Bly wondered why, staring forward, not looking at Cody, even when Cody tried to step into his field of view. 

“That so?” Bly asked, trying to muster the energy to care and failing. He should have cared about them whispering about him behind his back, but he just--

Didn’t.

“That’s so,” Cody said. “And so you’re staying here.”

“Fine,” Bly said, gaze flicking momentarily towards the blaster at Cody’s hip. “Whatever you say, sir.”

He caught Cody’s wince out of the corner of his eyes, and a part of him wanted to apologize immediately but-- He’d done so much worse. Things he’d never be able to apologize for, he’d lifted his blaster and--

“Good,” Cody said, firm. “Let’s get some dinner.”

#

Bly pushed mush around his plate. He ate a bite, maybe two. His appetite had died with everything else that mattered, systems and systems away from where he currently was. 

Cody made noises about him needing to eat more, but he’d just have to live with what Bly could manage, unless he planned to bring in a tube and force it down Bly’s throat. Maybe he would. Bly considered the idea dispassionately.

In the end, Cody just frowned over him and took Bly back to his quarters. Cody brought along an extra meal, and something in Bly’s gut twisted hard, just looking at it. He felt like there was something inside him, a dam, perhaps, and that it was starting to crack, all down the middle.

He didn’t want to know what was on the other side of it.

“Why don’t you get in the fresher,” Cody said, and Bly shrugged. The fresher looked the same as the one he’d used for years. There was even a Jedi robe hanging on one of the hooks along the wall and for a moment he could imagine--

But it wasn’t Aayla’s. The weave was too heavy. And she’d preferred darker, richer colors. Earth tones. He stared at his fingers, clenched in the fabric, and made himself release it with a shudder. He took off his armor. Set it aside. Stepped under the water.

Aayla had loved the decadence of a water shower. She’d insisted he join her in one, more than once, the two of them wedged in together, laughing as they jostled for space and it always ended with her in his arms, hands sliding on the slippery walls, her fingers clenching at his shoulders, and--

He’d shot her. In the back. Hadn’t even hesitated. Ordered her body pushed into a shallow grave and she’d probably been ravaged by scavengers and--

Bly jerked out from under the water. He dried off, pulled back on a set of blacks that looked clean. Cody’s, he assumed. They mostly fitted; after years of different experiences, their bodies were no longer exactly the same. They’d built muscle differently. Some of them were stronger than others.

Cody had managed to fight the thing in his head.

And Bly had--

He tried to hold together the splintering dam inside his head, stepping back out into the main room. He wondered where Cody expected him to sleep, and the consideration fell out of his head when he realized they weren’t alone anymore.

Cody was sitting on the end of the bunk, talking to General Kenobi, low and earnestly. And Kenobi--

Was alive. Standing there in his tunic, his hair with more white in it around the temples than Bly recalled, a lightsaber on his belt. And seeing him split the widening cracks in Bly’s chest even further. He felt his jaw grinding as Kenobi looked up and over at him, inclining his head a little as he said, “Commander, I’m...so sorry, I--”

Kenobi cut off at a sharp, ragged-edged sound. Bly realized after a moment that it was coming from him. Laughter. 

Kenobi shifted his weight back, just a little, as Bly rasped out, “You’re sorry?”

He was distantly aware of Cody standing up, reaching out and putting a hand on Kenobi’s stomach. But that seemed like it was happening somewhere else. Everything, the entire world, was Kenobi’s expression, his too-wide eyes and the way all the color had washed out of his face. 

“Bly,” Cody started, and Bly felt his mouth twist up, felt the last little pieces of resistance in his chest wash away. 

“You’re sorry?” Bly repeated, taking a step forward. “She’s dead and--you’re sorry? You?”

Kenobi took a step back. “I--”  

“It isn’t fair,” Bly snapped, moving closer, and oh, it wasn’t, nothing about this was fair, it was brutal and wrong and -- “She’s dead, and you’re still here. Still just fine, aren’t you? Just like always? And you’re sorry?”

Cody stepped between them, one hand extended out towards Bly, mouth moving when he said, “That’s--”

“Why did you get to live?” Bly demanded, trying to bat Cody’s hand out of the way. Cody grunted and reached to grab him. “When she died? Why couldn’t it have been her? Just -- it should have been her, not you, she was--”

His words cut off when his shoulders hit the wall, both Cody’s hands in the front of his blacks, something dark and snapping in Cody’s eyes when he snarled, “That’s enough. Not another kriffing word, do you hear me?”

Bly opened his mouth, and never got a chance to say anything, because Cody jerked back from him at the sound of retching from the fresher. Cody swore, viciously, and pushed him against the wall again. “You stay right there,” Cody snapped, heading for the fresher, reaching for his comm and spitting something into it that Bly didn’t hear.

When Bones showed up, a few moments later, to collect him, Bly went along willingly enough. Whatever anger had moved through him had dissipated as quickly as it had come. He just felt… empty again. Completely empty.

#glimmer replies #ask me anything #make your bed lie in it #snippets #post fic #lots of hurt not really comfort #suicidal ideation and an attempt #survivor's guilt #fall out from mind control

[navegandoaciegas]

California Bound.

Pairing: Bucky x fem!Reader

Warnings: smut, yandere, homeless!bucky, stalking, home intrusion, obsession, loneliness, sad!bucky, disturbing thoughts, dubcon? This is a dark fic.

Words: 4k

Summary: You’re so lonely and isolate in this city that if you died your neighbours wouldn’t even notice, your colleagues wouldn’t care and your boss would probably be pissed that you didn’t put in your two weeks notice before you went to hell. Bucky is tired of being alone and invisible and he knows you are too. He knows you can mend each other's’ hearts. 

A/N: set after CA:TWS. I’m not a native speaker so forgive me for any mistakes. Please let me know what you think and like and reblog if you liked it :) feedback is always appreciated!

In the unstable state of his scattered mind he can vividly recall a woman in a red dress. 

Some memories are long gone, some are fragmented, and although the lines of her face have been blurred by the passing of time and decades of electrocution, her plump red lips are permanently burned in the back of his brain.

When he closes his eyes, sometimes, he can still see her smile. 

Only she’s not smiling at him.

She’s smiling at Steve, his brother, his friend, his mission. 

Not even seventy years of brainwashing and torture could get rid of the sadness that filled him when she walked past and ignored him as if he wasn’t there, as if nothing else in that room existed except for Steve.

In his memory she doesn’t see him, and nobody has since. 

Perhaps it’s in that moment that he became no one, in that moment he was condemned to an existence of pain, loneliness and invisibility.

He’s a ghost that haunts the dirty streets of Philadelphia, crouched behind the dumpsters of dark alleys, begging the ones who sneer at him for spare change in train stations, lurking in the shadows to pickpocket the rich passerbys of the city.

  The hormone suppressants HYDRA forced on him are wearing off.

He can feel himself slipping, his most primal instincts violently surging back after 70 years of being repressed. His brain goes haywire when he catches sight of a pair of legs clad in a short skirt, the blood draining from his brain and travelling straight to his cock, and he wills himself to restrain his urges.

Modern women are so pretty, and they wear so little clothes. They don’t see him, of course, but he sees them. 

He sees those tight little dresses, those high heels, those long lashes and bright lips.

In another life he could have been like one of the rich boys he often spots outside of clubs, well dressed and well groomed, and maybe those pretty girls would have fawned over him too.

But not in this life.

In this life he’s been alone for 70 years, and his loneliness consumes him so intensely that some nights, when the cold is unbearable and the streets are empty, he wishes he hadn’t been born at all.

In this life he doesn’t shower and shave for weeks on end, and his hair is so greasy and matted that even if he wasn’t in hiding he’d have to wear a baseball cap anyways. When he looks at himself in the mirror he barely recognizes the handsome soldier in a blue uniform he saw at the Smithsonian. The man who stares back at him in the mirrors of soiled public restrooms has deep frown lines on his forehead, dark circles under dull eyes and a patch of white hair on his beard. Only the startling blue of his eyes has stood the test of time.

Those pretty girls wouldn’t spare him a second glance.

 He’s tired of the loneliness that plagues him. He just wishes to be seen.

He wants someone to look at him, really look at him, in anything other that pity or disgust. He wants someone who could hold him at night and take care of his battered soul.

He wants a companion to spend his time with, someone he could talk to; when was the last time he uttered a single word? When was the last time someone touched him tenderly?

You’d think after all he’s been through that being alone would be a walk in the park in comparison, but the emptiness that eats him alive is the most unbearable torture he’s ever been subjected to. It took HYDRA 20 years to break him, it only took the loneliness a couple of months.

  He just wants someone.

Someone who sees him.

And you do. You see him.

 He’s hunched over in a recess in the wall of an alley, violently shaking. The ground beneath him is frozen, the strong winds are like a slap in the face and the heavy-duty winter jacket he was able to steal isn’t doing much to protect him from the harsh weather. Maybe he won’t survive tonight, he almost dares to hope.

He’s still crying when he spots a pair of crisp white sneakers coming his way, and he looks up. He’s seen you around a couple of times, you’re one of the pretty girls who short circuit his brain.

You’re wearing a bright yellow winter jacket and black jeans. You look young, but he can’t tell how young. People nowadays age different than they used to back then. You’re probably way younger than him, although he has no idea exactly how old he is; he was 27 when he went to war, how much has he aged? How young is too young for a man with no age?

The light of the lamps behind you diffuses a soft halo around your body. You shine on your own light, brighter than the sun; you’re an angel so beautiful, so perfect that he doesn’t know if you’re a figment of his imagination.

You crouch down and hand him a bunch of blankets and a warm cup of something, maybe tea? When he grabs it his fingers brush against yours and it sends a jolt of electricity down his spine. He expects you to grimace in disgust at his touch, but you don’t. You smile.

You smile at him.

Suddenly he doesn’t feel the cold anymore, he only feels the warm tingling in his stomach. 

He smiles back, or at least he tries. He hasn’t smiled since World War II, as Nazis didn’t give him a lot of reasons to, to be honest. 

And just like you appeared, you’re gone in a heartbeat.

But he can’t simply let you go like that, so he resolves to summon back the Asset’s stealth and gets up to follow you.

That night when he closes his eyes the smile he sees belongs to you.

-

   They say even your worst day only lasts 24 hours; too bad your worst day has become your worst year so far.

They also say when you reach rock bottom the only way to go is up. They lied about that too.

Somehow today you’ve been scraping the bottom of the pit you’re in and have dug yourself even deeper than the lowest you could get.

You want to say your day can’t get any worse than this, but you know there’s always room for worsening.

The feeble March sun shines through the clouds and you’re dreading the flight of stairs that awaits you since your landlord categorically refuses to have the lift fixed. By the time you get to your door you’re exhausted and can’t wait to shower the day away and lounge on your couch.

 You open up the door to your apartment and get inside in a rush, only to stop dead in your tracks when you notice something is off about your home. There’s an eerie stillness about the open space, and maybe you’re going crazy but it seems like some of your things are not where you’d left them.

Apparently you just unlocked a lowest level to rock bottom.

It takes you a couple of seconds to register it, but when you do the hair on the back of your neck stand up and your brain screams danger at you.

There’s a smell inside that is not yours. It’s the strong, manly smell of sweat, and it wouldn’t be entirely unpleasant if it weren't for the fact that you live alone and don’t usually have men over.

 You never think it’s going to happen to you until it does.

You took self defense in college, you carry pepper spray with you, you always thought if you were in danger you’d be able to defend yourself, or at least bolt away.

They never tell you that fear is paralyzing. They don’t tell that the anticipation of pain roots you on the spot, that your legs feel like they’re made of lead and all you can do is wait for the impact to come. They don’t tell you that the dread that chills the blood in your veins can break the most primal of mechanisms humans have, and the fight or flight response you were counting on to save you abandons you too

When it happens, you don’t even hear it coming; there’s a prickle at the base of your neck and, before you descend into the darkness, two arms envelope you, and you feel the ghost of a kiss on your shoulder.

-

  You try to peel your eyes open when a hand delicately caresses your cheek and lingers on your lips. Your eyelids are heavy, your head is pounding like you’re having the worst hangover in you life and your whole body is aching. You want to speak, you want to shake that hand away, but you are unmoving. 

It reminds you of the medicine induced hallucination you used to have, which were an inconvenient side effect of the same prescription drugs that were supposed to help you sleep. It feels like a sleep paralysis, minus the demon sitting on your stomach. 

-

 You’re slipping in and out of consciousness when you hear it. There’s a voice speaking.

You suppose whoever it belongs to is talking to you. You strain your ears and will yourself to concentrate real hard, despite your brain pulsing in your skull and threatening to burst out.

The voice definitely belongs to a man, and whoever he is, he sounds very soft spoken and polite. Too bad he broke into your house and drugged you.

“So pretty, so perfect for me.”

“We won’t ever be lonely anymore, I promise you that.”

“...cleaned up real good for you...”

“...can’t wait for you to wake up.”

It’s all you can make out in your drowsy state. He peppers your forehead and the crown of your head with soft kisses. There’s two strong arms holding you. You fall back asleep.

-

  The sun shines brightly through the curtains of your bedroom and you want to flip the universe off for lining up the morning rays directly onto your face, and yourself for forgetting to draw the blinds.

You almost cuss yourself out for being yet again late for work when the events of the previous evening rush back to you. You wake with a jolt and you feel terror enveloping you when you see him. 

Fear grips your throat and you want to scream, you want to thrash about and punch him, and yet all you can do is look at him with wide eyes.

You feel your chest heaving but it’s almost like it doesn’t belong to you, it’s not happening to you, it can’t; you breathe but the air won’t reach your lungs. 

The man detects your distress and sits next to you. He carefully reaches for your hand and places on his chest, over his heart.

You are immobile.

You hate yourself for it. You wish you could do something about this but your stupid brain refuses to cooperate.

“Calm down baby, I’m not here to hurt you.” says the guy who gave you morphine. “Concentrate on my breathing, ‘kay? Inhale, hold your breath- good, now exhale, and again.”

He guides you through a breathing exercise that suggests you it may not be the first time he’s had to calm himself or others from an almost panic attack. The steady beat of his heart calms you down.

“Don’t cry, please.” he pleads with you.

You’re back at it again with the inappropriate thoughts for someone who’s been kidnapped and might get killed in the next few minutes, but you can’t not think how handsome your captor is.

He’s got dark hair gathered up in an elastic at the nape of his neck. His jawline is sharp and his cheekbones high. His eyes are the bluest you’ve ever seen, his lips look soft and pink and his nose is small and cute for a man so chiselled and intimidating.

“I promise I won’t hurt you.” he tells you, and smiles almost shyly at you.

There’s a look on his face that should reassure you, because it means that you won’t die today, but it can only mean you’re doomed to something maybe worse than death. 

His expression is tender, like you’re the most precious thing in the world. He seems so affectionate, so loving, that for a moment you wish this was real, you wish your former partners would have looked at you so devotedly.

He takes your hand in his again and traces soothing pattern with his thumb. 

Finally you seem to snap back to reality.

“Who are you?” You manage to squeak out. Your throat is on fire, and you’re grateful for the water bottle he hands over to you.

He frowns and seems to think about it until he manages to mumble a “My name is Bucky.”

He hesitates over his name like it doesn’t really belong to him.

You’re puzzled as to why you’re so calm. You’ve never been a feisty one, that’s true; you spent your life conforming to rules, you always complied to orders because you like to be praised and you hate to disappoint. As a child you feared punishments, being grounded, the look of dissatisfaction on your parents’ faces more than anything else in the world.

But you never imagined you’d be striking a conversation with the intruder in your house like it was an everyday occurrence. 

It only takes a look to understand that you can’t outrun the guy, nor overpower him. He’s built like a bulldozer and his biceps are bigger than you. He said he wouldn’t hurt you, and as absurd as it sounds you believe him, but it doesn’t mean you’d come out unscathered if you tried to fight him.

Maybe you could outsmart him? Comply until he trusts you and then take off?

“I’ve been watching you.”  Oh shit . “You saved my life.”

You can’t stop the remark from escaping your lips. “A thank you would have sufficed, you know, no need to kidnap me and all.” 

You weren’t feisty, sure, but that didn’t mean you weren’t a snarky bitch.

The guy chuckles, and it seems like his own amusement surprises you both alike.

“Two months ago, back in January. I was freezing to death. You came and gave me blankets and tea. It warmed me enough to survive the night. I knew back then you were perfect.”

Oh, God . The one time you decided to be a good citizen and gave the blankets you hogged in your cubicle at work to the homeless guy that was always crouched in the back alley of your office building, then one you’d see when you sneaked out the back to smoke on company time.

You almost don’t recognize him. 

“You’re just like me in a way. I saw you so sad all this time, you hate your job, you’re always alone. I saw you cry because you feel so lonely. I know that it feels like. I’ve been alone for so long.” He whispers the last part softly, and your heart clenches because it’s true, you��re so damn lonely, but you can recognize the loneliness in his eyes too. He cradles your face in his hands. “But I promise you won’t be alone anymore. You got me now.”

“I don’t know- I-I don’t even know you. Please just let me go, I promise I won’t tell anyone. Please don’t hurt me.” You start to plead with him and your words get swallowed by the sobs that shake you. Your heartbeat picks up again. 

You know fear now, the real one, but it pales in comparison of the one you feel when the implication of his words starts to sink in.

He just smiles at you. 

“What do you want?” you manage to whisper.

“You. We’re going to be happy I promise. I read the notes on your phone where you wrote you wanted to travel, remember that?” You nod weakly, recalling the depressive entry about how stuck your boring life is and the bucket list of all the places you’d want to visit.

“We’re going to travel, I’ll take you wherever you want. Just don’t leave me please, be with me.”

You almost ask with what money since you’re homeless my guy, but then a thought strikes you.

You won’t miss your boring life the moment it will slip away from you; you won’t miss being stuck alone in a city you despise doing a job you hate. You won’t miss the homesickness. You won’t miss berating yourself for accepting a job immediately post grad in a city on the other side of America, just because you were scared of being left behind, of being that one person who ends up with no job after college and has to move back to their parents house.

Maybe, had you stayed in your hometown, or accepted that other position in Austin, maybe this shit wouldn’t have happened to you. You’ll never know.

He pulls you into a hug and you’re so startled your crying subsizes. 

He shushes you and coos you while rocking you in his arms. “It’s okay baby, I promise you’re going to like it, you don’t have to worry about a thing, I got it all sorted out for you.”

You’re shocked.

He pushes you down on the bed and as your mind elaborates the worst case scenario possible and as you’re on the verge of another panic attack, he simply envelops you in his arms and puts his head on your chest. 

You’re stunned again.

Almost on instinct you wrap your own smaller arms around his shoulders and he sighs contentedly. You’re so touch starved and desperate for affection that even hugging your stalkers feels kinda nice.

You haven’t touched anyone and no one has touched you in such fondness in almost a year. Hook-ups don’t count. 

You’re so lonely and isolate in this city that if you died your neighbours wouldn’t even notice, your colleagues wouldn’t care and your boss would probably be pissed that you didn’t put in your two weeks notice before you went to hell.

 Lost in thought you only notice he’s about to kiss you when it’s too late.

At first he hesitantly pecks your lips, and then he’s trying to pry your mouth open with his tongue. You don’t know what possesses you to do it but you part your lips.

He’s uncertain on how to move around, like he doesn’t know how to kiss or he’s forgetten how, he has absolutely no idea where to put his hands, and it’s honestly kind of awkward.

You imagine this is what it’s like to kiss a middle schooler.

He pulls away and blushes. “Sorry, it’s been a while.”

You’re stunned yet again.

He’s not apologizing for stalking you, breaking in and drugging you, but because he’s a bad kisser?

He slants his mouth against yours again, this time more forcefully than before. And after almost choking you when he pushes his tongue so deep it would have reached your tonsils hadn’t you had them removed, he seems to get the gist of it, or maybe the muscle memory kicks back in, because even if you won’t admit it to yourself, it feels nice.

You feel sick and twisted but it’s good to have someone desire you, touch you so tenderly, kiss you so passionately. The guys you use to entertain yourself in your solitude never kiss you while they fuck you into oblivion. You forgot how comforting the weight of a warm body on yours is.

You don’t push him away until you feel your t-shirt rip.

His hands explore your body ignoring your pleads to stop.

He’s nowhere and everywhere all at once. One hand squeezes your ass and the other kneads your breasts while he leaves open mouthed, hungry kisses down your throat, until he reaches the soft skin between your neck and clavicles and starts sucking in like a man possessed. You automatically jerk forward and buckle your hips until they touch his and he lets out a groan that travels straight to your already dripping core. 

You hate yourself for it, but you’ve never been this aroused.

You hate yourself for giving in so effortlessly, for being so damn weak, so damn lonely.

It’s mortifying how easy you’re making this for him. 

Your mind tries to will your body to push him from you, but instead of shoving him away your hands grab his shoulder and pull him closer.

You hate yourself because when he dips his hand in your soaked panties as he suckles on your nipple, your body doesn’t even try to protect you. 

You’re at his mercy as he pushes his long fingers through your folds and smears your arousal around, before dipping them inside.

“All this for me, pretty girl?” 

Cocky bastard.

He moans in your mouth as he grinds his hips on your leg and you feel the extent of his manhood. 

“So pretty, so perfect, so good for me.”

It shouldn’t feel this good, but again you’ve been a slut for praise since you came out the womb. You moan and whine in pleasure and he’s clearly very proud of himself for being the one who elicits these sounds from you. His thumb finds your bud and massages it, sending jolts of unadulterated pleasure down your spine.

You’re trembling under his touch. Your legs are shaking, toes curling, and you can’t stop yourself from moaning louder what you ever have. You can feel the familiar tightness in your core that precedes an orgasm, but you need more.

“Please Bucky, please. Faster.” you whine, ashamed of yourself for pleading like that. 

You’re so lost in your own pleasure you don’t notice the look of hunger that crosses Bucky’s face at the mention of his name. He never thought he’d be able to give you so much, he never knew his hand could bring anything other than pain and destruction, but his name sounds so sweet on your tongue.

“Cum pretty girl, cum all over my fingers for me, I know you can.”

And you do. You cum so hard your vision goes black for a second as you lose yourself to the pleasure that travels from your core to the rest of your body.

You’re floating, so dazed that you barely notice he’s undressed you and taken off his pants. When you feel something prod at your entrance, you look down in horror only to find him already lined up with you.

He’s got the prettiest cock you’ve ever seen, and it’s so big, so thick you’re scared he’s going to rip you apart. He doesn’t give you time to react before he’s slamming inside of you.

The scream that rips out of you is animalistic, and he stills.

“God you’re so tight, clamping down on me.” He grunts in you ear as he sets a slow pace.

The pain soon subsides and gives place to more pleasure than you’ve ever felt in your life. He picks up the pace when you stretch around his girth painlessly, and rolls his hips around.

“So good for me.”

“Mine, only mine.”

“My good girl.”

“Taking me so well.”

“Gonna fill you up so good.”

“Fuck, you feel incredible.”

Your pussy clamps down on his cock with each praise he grunts in your ear. You’re so overstimulated and he’s so vocal that you feel like you’re about to burst when you cum again and again for what feels like an eternity, before his movements become sloppier and messier.

You cum once more when he swells inside of you, and you feel the tell-tale sensation of fullness when he fills you up with his cum.

He collapses on you, panting. 

You’re both satisfied and spent.

He kisses you once more, on your lips, and it’s so sweet and tender that you almost cry because you know deep down you couldn’t take one more day of solitude.

His voice is deep and hoarse when he speaks again.

“How ‘bout we start with California?”

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky x you #bucky imagine #bucky fanfic #dark bucky x reader #dark!bucky x reader #dark!james barnes #marvel fanfiction #james buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #james barnes x reader #james barnes x you #james barnes x y/n #bucky x y/n