#would love not to be obsessive and on edge and uncomfortable and anxious all the time. would love to have a normal brain for one day

[itslookingback]

:(

#would love not to be obsessive and on edge and uncomfortable and anxious all the time. would love to have a normal brain for one day #i hate feeling like this because it's like yes i know i'm being irrational!!!! but things are distressing and it hurts #i don't want to be constantly one moment away from a sensory overload or about to snap at someone. yes i want to feel more happy #i don't know how to become this though. everything is out of my control and i'm trying to make do #mumbles

[boxofbonesfic]

Title: Cut

Pairing: Soft Dark! Bucky Barnes x Reader

Kink Prompt: Cut [Knife play]

Word Count: 1,944

Summary: You haven’t been having the best luck on dating apps, but you’re willing to try again. 

Warnings: AU: Dark, Noncon, Stalking, Obsessive behavior, Possessive Behavior, Knife play, Marking, Dead Dove: Do not eat, MINORS DNI!

A/N: i’m super excited to share this one with you all, i had a lot of fun fulfilling the brief. hoping you all enjoy reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it! divider by @firefly-graphics​

Your date’s eyes flick up over your right shoulder for the umpteenth time that night, a spark of nervousness growing in them. 

 “What’s wrong?” You ask, a small but reassuring smile on your lips. You turn around, but there isn’t anything out of place at the restaurant. The tables surrounding you are all full of people laughing and chatting amicably, not one of them paying attention to either of you. “See someone you know?” You joke, but Phil’s responding laughter is hollow and anxious sounding. 

 “No, no,” he says, shaking his head. “I just thought—you know what? Never mind.” Phil dives back into the conversation full force, asking you about your likes and dislikes, your family and friends, your dating history. “No boyfriends I should know about?” He leans forward, and you get the impression that this light-hearted joke somehow isn’t light-hearted at all. 

 “No.” You say with a short laugh. “Why would I be on Tingle looking for a boyfriend if I had a boyfriend?” You take a sip of your wine as Phil chuckles sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand. 

 “No, totally, of course. I’ve just, you know. Heard some real horror stories on 6Space.”

 “Hah, yeah,” you say, thinking of your latest string of failed dates. “Horror stories.”

 “You have some of your own, I take it?”

 You heave a sigh, downing another generous sip of your wine. You shift a little in your seat, thinking uncomfortably of the last date you’d been on. James—Bucky, he wanted you to call him Bucky—was nice, but… intense. His charm and passion had been underscored unpleasantly by a deep, aching need, one you didn’t—and still don’t—think you’re qualified to fill. 

 “I guess you could say that.” Going back to Bucky’s place with him had been a mistake. One that left you weak and sore for days afterward, and you’d swiftly blocked his number before re-installing the dating app last week.  

 You’re just perfect, doll, you know that? Fucking sweet and tight and all mine, isn’t that right?

 The entrees come without issue, and you eat half of your falafel before you’re tapping out. “I love this place, but the portion sizes,” you complain lightheartedly, and Phil laughs, nodding in agreement. 

 “Let me get it,” he says, grabbing for the bill. You watch Phil pat his pockets, his expression turning worried as he searches. “What the f—Okay, I totally had my wallet before I went to the bathroom.” He rises from the table and flags down a waiter. “Has anyone found a wallet? I can’t seem to find mine.” 

 “I’ll check with the host.” 

 He sits back down, cheeks red with embarassment. “This never happens,” he says, laughing nervously. “Can I, um. I can Cash-mo you, if that’s okay.” 

 You place your own card in the book, nodding. “Of course.” The waiter swings back by to grab it, and shakes his head apologetically at Phil. He swipes your card through the reader while Phil mutters that maybe he left it in the taxi, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. You tuck your copy of the receipt into your purse and stand.

 “So um. I was thinking, maybe we could get a drink at my place?” Phil asks, a distinctly unattractive pleading note in his voice. “No pressure for anything else, of course, and—”

 “You know what, Phil? I think I’m going to call it a night.” You offer him a tired smile, one you hope masks your dissatisfaction with the date. “But maybe we can hang out again?” The offer is a false one, made to round off the hard edge of your rejection. Phil deflates. 

 “Y-yeah. Of course,” he replies defeatedly, irritation setting itself in the displeased curl of his lip. “Another time.”

 The walk back to your apartment is dreary, made all the worse by the cold drizzle and your own bad mood. Your fat orange tabby greets you at the door, yowling hungrily as he winds his way around your legs. You kick off your damp heels by the door, rocking gratefully on the balls of your feet. You reach down to pick up the cat, and he twists in your arms to butt his head against your face. 

 “I don’t know, Oliver,” you sigh, picking your way over the pile of your shoes by the front door. “Maybe this dating thing isn’t for me.” He chirrups in your arms, kneading you through your clothes as you head for the kitchen, intent on feeding him. 

 “Probably not. You strike me as a one-man kinda gal.” 

 “Fuck!” You shriek, dropping a yowling Oliver as you turn to stare fearfully into your darkened living room. You squint, feeling around in your purse for the little canister of mace you keep there. The outline of a figure—tall, broad shouldered—folds his arms across his chest, and steps a little closer to the light. Your mouth drops open with shock. 

 “Bucky?” You glance at the door and then back at him. “W-what are you doing here?” He cards a hand through his dark hair, teeth sinking into his plump lower lip as he contemplates his answer. His slate blue eyes catch the light as they fall on your face. 

 “I wanted to see you.” His mouth twists. “But you weren’t here.” You swallow, your tongue sticking to the roof of your mouth. You don’t know how he got in without breaking your lock or a window—and furthermore, you don’t remember ever giving him your address.

 “I-I think you should leave.” He doesn’t respond, watching you silently with an expression you can’t accurately read. “M-Maybe we can hang out—”

 “Another time?” He says dryly, raising an eyebrow at you. “You use that line a lot, doll.” 

 “You’ve been watching me,” you say accusatorially, but Bucky only shrugs. 

 “A guy’s got to keep an eye on his best girl.” You hear the snikt of a knife sliding open, and you heart leaps into your throat as the blade gleams in the darkness. “I made you feel good, didn’t I, doll?” He asks, flipping the knife and catching it by the handle with his metal hand. When you don’t answer, he scowls. “Please, sweetheart, I’m talking to you.” 

 “Y-yes.” You croak, flinching as he steps closer. You’re pressed against the wall with fear, unable to look away from the cruelly curved blade in his hand. You try to inch along the wall, matching him step for step—but his hand crashes against the wall beside your head, trapping you. He turns the knife in his other hand, a look of consideration on his face. You can’t look away from it, your eyes jumping between his distracted gaze and the blade.

 “You know,” he says, spinning it around one finger before catching it by the hilt, “it really hurt my feelings when you didn’t call, Sweetheart.” The breath in your throat escapes in a shrill little squeal as he slides the flat of it against your bare arm. His eyes flick up to yours. “I really liked you.”

 “B-Bucky I—”

 “You blocked me.” 

 “You scared me,” you whimper. He drags the blunt side of the knife down your arm and goosebumps spring up in its wake. “W-we’d been on one date, a-and you were talking rings and marriage, it-it was—”

 “So knowing what I want’s a bad thing, now?” There’s a subtle note of accusation in his voice that you don’t miss. “You know, years I had other people in my head.” The knife reaches your wrist, and he turns it, pressing the edge against your pulse point before dragging it back up. “Telling me what I wanted. What to do.” You flinch as he presses the tip against your chest, just above the collar of your dress. He drags it down, and it slices through the chiffon of your dress like butter, parting the layers in a straight line until it falls off of you. 

 “I don’t understand,” he says softly. He cups your chin with one hand, all while he draws shapes on your belly with the tip of the knife. “Didn’t I make you feel good?” You feel each pass with crystal clarity, shivering as your  nipples tighten from the cool air. Bucky sees it, licking his lips as he flicks his thumb across the tip of one, following it with the blade. 

 “Yes.” You’re afraid to move, to breathe. He draws the tip over the curve of your breast, tracing it down your side and hooking it beneath the elastic of your panties. It snaps against your skin, and you wince. He sighs, tracing it over your hip. The knife is so sharp that it doesn’t even hurt as your skin splits when he applies the tiniest bit more pressure, your blood welling up on the blade.

 “I want you to understand, doll.” His voice is eerily calm. He swipes his thumb up the flat of the knife, collecting the thin line of crimson on his finger before popping it into his mouth. “You’re it for me.” The tip of the knife presses dangerously into the fleshy curve of your thigh, but Bucky pulls it away before it can break the skin. You gasp as he cups you with his flesh hand, parting the cleft lips of your cunt with thick, practiced fingers. He chuckles pulling his fingers from between your thighs to show you the wetness at their tips. Your stomach curdles with shame as he flashes his teeth in a triumphant grin. 

 “Knew you liked me, doll.” The knife-tip leaves your skin tingling and oversensitive as you strain to feel where next it’ll touch down. You stare up at him with glassy, disbelieving eyes as he reaches back down to thumb at your clit, his other hand drawing oblong shapes with the knife. Down, over the curve of your belly, over your hip, tracing the side of your face—he doesn’t stop. There’s nowhere for you to go, pressed against the wall with Bucky’s body blocking you in, nowhere to hide from the sensation of his fingers twisting in your core and the sharp silver blade leaving trails on your flesh. 

 “G-God, Bucky s-stop—” The rest of your plea dissolves on your tongue as your body jackknifes, hot currents of electricity washing away conscious thought. His voice is dark in your ear, egging you on as you convulse in his arms. 

 “Good girl, doll, so good,” he coos, the stubble on his cheek rasping against your own as he nuzzles you. “So pretty when you cum, baby. Could watch it all goddamn day.” He pulls his drenched fingers from your core with an embarrassingly slick noise. Your knees are trembling, barely holding you up, so it’s no task for Bucky to sweep them out from under you, cradling you to his chest as he walks toward the bedroom. 

 He lays you across the bed with surprising gentleness, and then kneels on the floor by the foot of it. Your legs are dangling over the edge, but not for long before Bucky rests them on his shoulders. His breath puffs against your slick, sensitive folds. You whimper as the tip of the knife presses into your hip again, and even with it’s wicked sharpness, you feel the blade bite into your flesh. You writhe, whimpering, and Bucky hushes you gently. He leans forward to lave a wet, sloppy kiss against your cunt.

 “Stay still, sweetheart,” he says, and you feel him bear down on the knife again, drawing a straight line, and then a curve. “Don’t wanna mess up my initials.” 

 fin

Hello friends! I no longer maintain a taglist, so please follow @box-of-bones-library​​ for updates and new work, thank you!

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#sebastian stan characters #sebastian stan fanfiction #sebastian stan imagine #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #dark!bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes x reader #dark!bucky barnes x you #dark!bucky x reader #dark!bucky x you #dark!bucky smut #smut #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes smut #au: dark #darkfic #dark!fic #boxofbonesfic

[thezestyone]

Could I get short fic or HC about being taken care of by Motonari? Like being sick or they've traveled to the modern day and he's taking care if MC/reader after a surgery.

@writingwhimsey Aw, of course, Whimsey! Here you go, and I hope recovery is going smoothly for you!

Motonari x Reader in… The Devoted Pirate In The House

“S-Sir, calm down!”

“The hell you mean calm down?! My girl is undergoing surgery and you won’t let me see her! I oughta-“ He growled, before sucking in his teeth. He knew this was coming, his girl told him this was going to happen, that it was necessary-

But that doesn’t mean he likes it any! Surgery involved… other people touching her! The idea of someone else touching his lady, potentially doing harm to her… it burned his blood like a hot fire. He was quite anxious and hated how he couldn’t see her.

He wanted to be by her side so desperately, and he knew he couldn’t give much lip to these modern people. His girl warned him that if he acted a bit too rashly, he would be in serious trouble, and he was not looking to inconvenience his lady when she was already going through so much.

“…Damn it all to hell…” He gritted his teeth, pacing anxiously back and forth as he tugged at his hair.

If only Hiroyoshi was here to calm him down. That old man always knew just what to do, and he was the one who usually calmed the hot-headed pirate captain, besides his flower girl.

But Hiroyoshi wasn’t here. Motonari would have to deal with this, to deal with his love in such a delicate state all by himself, and the idea terrified him. What if he was too rough with her? What if he made whatever she was going through even worse?

“Sir, I know you are worried about your wife, but I can assure you she will be alright and you will be able to see her shortly,” The receptionist told him with held up hands, as Motonari merely snorted in reply, going to sit down. ”Sure…”

‘She better be, or the future will be damned,’ He thought, going to try and get a handle on his feelings at this situation.

When he sees her after she is discharged… he had to be the perfect husband. He had to dote on her like crazy, he had to be the best damn nurse ever. He did not want her lifting a finger after she got out of surgery.

It was settled… He was going to be the perfect house husband.

After she was discharged from the hospital, Motonari made sure to get himself informed about everything care related, from doing her hair, to helping her take a shower, cooking her favorite meals, keeping the home spotless, everything, and he did it all with a cheesy ’kiss the chef’ apron that he wore ever since he brought her home.

“Motonari, I will be fine, just let me-“ His flower girl would begin, before he would give her an adorable pout and silence her lips with a kiss. ”No, let me do it. You focus on getting yer rest,” He would tell her, before he continued to insist on doing anything and everything.

He may be a bit rough on the edges at times, but when it counts, Motonari was the biggest softie there ever was. Maybe it was a good thing Hiroyoshi wasn’t there to tease the pirate captain at just how devoted he was to his flower girl.

He would put the clothes to wash, dry, fold them, put them away… sweep the floors, mop the floors, dry the floors, dusting and washing the walls- He was obsessively paying attention to every little detail, even more so than usual. Motonari was always a very particular man, knowing how he liked his stuff, but it seemed like he was taking it to another extreme altogether.

“Motonari… I do not think it is necessary to wash the walls…” His lady would call from their bed with a sweatdrop, as he would give her another adorable pout. ”It is when the dust can make ya feel worse! What if ya get allergies? No way my girl is going to be any more uncomfortable than she has to be!” He would huff stubbornly, before continuing on with his intense housekeeping, all the while still sporting that cheesy ’kiss the chef’ apron.

He would even wear it while he went to go to the market to buy groceries for their home. If he got stares, he would meet the stares head on with a glare, and a frown that made them quickly look away. ”The hell you looking at?” He had to be ready at a moment’s notice in case he needed to do something for his wife, so it made sense that he would be prepared for the occasion, even sporting a little cute wallaby book bag that was full of emergency items, like medicines, bandaids, feminine products, snacks- He promised himself he would be the perfect house husband, and he damn hell for sure was going to be it, and own it like he owned everything he did. How a man could look so confident sporting such a peculiar getup was beyond admirable.

As much as he tried to front, Motonari was completely weak for his wife. It showed in everything he did for her.

”Do not rush yer healing, okay?” He would tell her tenderly after he finished helping her get ready to sleep, gently tucking the sheets over her body, making sure to be very mindful with how the sheets came into contact with her. He wanted her to be as comfortable as possible.

“Take all the time you need. And if ya need anything at all, just let me know and I will give it to ya,” He would smile tenderly at her as he gently stroked her cheek, his eyes looking into hers with deep affection. She was the love of his life, he would do anything for her.

#ikemen sengoku #ikesen #ikesen motonari #ikemen sengoku motonari #motonari mouri #motonari x reader #ikesen motonari x reader #ikemen sengoku Motonari x reader #writingwhimsey

[lightningflashepiphany]

Gotta remember I hate mondays. That’s a prerequisite for understanding my feelings on this god forsaken day. I’ve been having a lot of intrusive feelings that lead me to feel like I’m about to have a panic attack. I keep feeling like I’m about to have one. I am definitely on edge. I’m a bit uncomfortable in my body right now, which sucks. I’m trying to grasp the thoughts as they come but I can’t seem to figure it out. Truthfully my anxiety is not great. I’m having good convos and I feel alright, just hate that I’m not feeling good overall. I’m excited for Christmas, that’s for sure. I love looking at all the presents. I’m looking forward to run club today. I am aware I’m producing good fruit, I’m present in the idea of peace right now. Im wanting to feel some love. I want to feel less tired, which I have definitely been more tired lately. I haven’t been sleeping as well. I’ve been waking up a little more recently, which isn’t good overall for my health. I need to eat good, I’ve kind of been eating like shit sporadically throughout the week. My feelings don’t dictate how I act though, I’m still keeping to my schedule. It all kind of happened around the time of coming back home from the wedding. I think I’m thinking I’m going to go crazy, and no I’m not. This feeling is how I’ve felt so so many times before, but it is more manageable now. It truly is more manageable now. I keep thinking about my vision and how uncomfortable it feels to just keep looking out of my face. That kind of thought really tends to make me feel not great. Like I’m out of control of my own body. I do feel like I can do things, which is good. Im not anxious when I go and talk to my patients. Im also getting sick of having to continuously hit my vape. It’s such an annoying habit, I don’t really enjoy it anymore. Hitting it just makes me feel worse. Like I’m a slave to it. I have to remember that these are all just things though. Im scared of getting sick so I’m not touching as much stuff, and when I do I’m not doing anything until I wash my hands if I don’t trust the surface I touched. Im not engaging with positive feelings as much as I would like to. Im just kind of reacting to everything. Im hardly motivated right now. I know what I want to do, and believe I can do it, but it’s hard to stay motivated. It’s more of just a boredom I guess. Going back to the thought it’s all just basic stuff though, when I touch surfaces I don’t have to become anxious and immediately clean my hands. I don’t have to be anxious about what I’ve touched. I feel like I have to, but I want to let that feeling go. It’s kind of like with my vape. All of this stuff feels larger than life, but at the end of the day the vape is just the vape. Ibuprofen is just ibuprofen. Vaccines are just vaccines. None of this stuff is as tremendously impactful as I think it is in the moment. It all feels like life or death, when it’s really just a smidge different or it isn’t. This weekend I ate poorly, I’m going to be tired from it. I have to cleanse for a few days to feel a little better. Seeing a flash on my eye isn’t life or death, it’s something small. Being mindful of my body doesn’t mean that my body is hurting or going to die, it’s just me paying attention to myself. I like the way the wind feels on my body. I shouldn’t separate myself from myself. I like the way the vape taste, I like the habit. It’s just a habit other people don’t like. I don’t have to obsess over it, people are entitled to their opinion. I could hit it less though. Gotta get out of my head and back into my world. Whatever the real world is doesn’t matter, my world exists the way it is. I don’t have to feel guilty about it.

[yandere-mc-yt]

y’ALL TRYNNA MAKE ME SIN 😩😩😩 I just wanna ask you to write out that prompt with psychic darling, techno and chat soooooo bad because it looks so rndmdjskdjdj 🤌🏾 ✨perfect✨ kdndkdkdkdjdjdjd not me having a brainrot 💀☠️☠️☠️☠️☠️

It's okay! Lets have brainrot together! Also I hope Techno isn't too ooc, I just think he'd be really repressed and awkward in these kind of situations lmao.

Thermae

Technoblade & Mind Reader GN!Reader

Warnings: Yandere Themes, obsessiveness, delusions mentioned, disassociation(?), kidnapping mentioned, Stockholm syndrome implied, animalistic behavior, NSFW, dubcon, size difference, unsafe sex, rough sex, mild painful sex, body worship implied, praise kink, retracted consent, ruined orgasm(?), humiliation kink(?), sex with an audience(?), ooc(?), idk canon inaccuracies probably, gn!deader

♡▪︎♡▪︎♡▪︎♡▪︎♡▪︎♡▪︎♡▪︎♡

pretty!!

EEE E E

shut the hell up some of us want to hear techno think

lovenoblade? technolover? FUCK what are we calling him when he stares at them like that??

shut uuuup

You don't look up from pile of clean clothes you're sifting through, trying to pick out what to wear after your bath. Technoblade staring at you from where he is by the door, not having made a move since he allowed you to enter the room. At least he isn't speaking-

You dropped some rolled up socks. It rolled under the bed and you get on your hands and knees to reach under the bed for it. Suddenly Technoblade is behind you and you yelp cutely-

Suddenly you're moaning softly and bent over on the bed. Your captor's lover's hand is on your hips and he's grinding against you. Your underwear is somehow soaked through and you're whining for Techno to take you. He swiftly tugs off your underwear and-

You look up at Technoblade, who looks back at you, acknowledging your attention. You looked cross. "Just because you're not thinking in words, doesn't mean I can't see what you think, Techno."

OOOOOO

oh noooo lmao

LOL imagine getting caught like that couldn't be us

rip

damn I wanted to see how bad this fantasy would have been

"Sorry-"

"Sorry," Techno says out loud as he takes his eyes off of you. You sigh as you toss the clothes yoy want onto the bed and stuff the rest back into the drawers. You'll fix that later if he doesn't get to it first. At least he had the gall to feel some bit of shame.

You turn your body to him and shrug. "It's whatever.... let's just go take a bath before bed."

You ignore how another brief flash of lewd thoughts and fantastical scenarios pass through his mind as you move past him towards the bathroom he had built for you. You also ignore the teasing from the Chat about how the piglin hybrid's home definently didn't have a place to bathe before and that he is a "stinky pig boy" and "stinknoblade". You didn't want to thank him but you felt like you had no choice because honestly.... he made you a custom bathroom that looked like it belonged in a palace. It had felt rude not to thank him, despite these circumstances.

You inhale the steam of the luxious looking bathroom and put your clothes down on a small side table near the massive walk in tub of hot water. You had moved over to the edge and was going to take off your shirt when the anxious boot clacking of your keeper reminded you that you were unfortunately not alone. You click your tongue back at him as you glance back at him. He looks away like he always does and you practically rip your clothes off before getting in.

He looks again when he doesn't hear the water sloshing around anymore. His expression is unreadable but you can hear what he's thinking.

"So pretty lovely looks soft smells good fuck- cute.... I wonder if you'll like the soap I got this time. Its peonies."

You hum as you sink a bit lower in the water, trying to hide your coloring cheeks.

"Yeah, I think peonies smell good." Technoblade makes a face and you have to swallow your smile. "Thanks- now get in here. I want this to be over with."

He nods mutely as he starts to undress and this time its your turn to look away. You sigh as you feel the water move and flinch when you feel his heat on your backside. He isn't even touching you yet.

ugh why is he waiting for permission again

lol whats with the gentleman act

dude they're literally already used you doing this get it over with

y'all better shut up this is like character development or something

i wanna touch they look all soft agaiiin

oooo yea!! touch them

Omgeee body worship kink??

touch them

TOUCH THEM

You let out a shaky sigh and turn around and make eye contact. He has the soap in one hand and the sponge you like in the other. You stand up in the water and exposed yourself to him. Its incredible difficult to ignore the way his pupils dialate when you're still making eye contact.

HOLY COW

isn't it too warm in here for (Y/N)'s nipples to get hard??

NAKED POG

oh my god You know they're practically begging for it now....

Techno swallows audibly and practically slams the bar of soap into the sponge, making an audible wet noise and aggressively lathers them together, looking away again. It makes you jump a bit but you don't say anything. Neither of you do and you almost prefer it that way. Once the sponge has been violently soaped up enough he starts washing you. You don't move and he doesn't stop on any part pf your upper half. It made you think of those old erotic stories of royalty being bathed by a personal servant. You didn't like it.

.....Right now you really wish you two were capable of being normal. Or that any part of your relationship was.

After your front and back have been scrubbed down, you quickly dip back into the water amd rinse yourself off. You look down at your body in the water and hum as you see another fleeting fantasy go past Technoblade's mind.

You're touching him, hands simply on his chest and pressed close to him. You're looking up at him frightened anxiously for a moment before moving away and wading towards the little shelving around an edge in the bathing pool. You flush as you climb onto it and sit. You spread your legs-

You look up at him for a split moment before looking away. You feel shakey and sick, kind of like you're about to throw up. Your gut twists and you press your thighs together on instinct. Shit.

No.

"No-" You swallow as you completely turn your back to Techno. You hear the water move a bit as you assume he's straightening up, you know he's looking directly at you. He's thinking too fast for you to properly hear his thoughts and you refuse to tune into what the Chat is saying right now.

You need to think-

You're on top of him in one of his blouses. Its so big on you but you like it and you liked the way Techno looked at you when you wore it. Technoblade's hands were on your hip and you scoff becuase you didn't want it there. You flushed a bit and took one of them with your fingers and moved it underneath the blouse to your bare stomach. You could feel the way your lips stretched into a goofy smile when he somehow flushed darker than you and his pupils blew up. It actually made you laugh a little. It felt like a little victory. The hand still on your hip twitched.

"I uh..." You bite your lip between your grin. "I like it when your hands are here. They're so warm and they make me feel good sometimes."

He stares and you can hear his thoughts.

"... Makes me feel safe...... so please..."

You blink back the tears but can't stop the shudder and whimper that comes from that memory. Technoblade stands behind you as you realize where you are now. You're stand before the pool shelving and its like your stomach folds in on itself as you whine and stumble back in the water, bumping into him. You both flinch from the sudden skin to skin contact and you feel the overwhelming urge to start wailing.

Technoblade makes a noise as if he's taking a deep breath and you know its over. You pull away from him as soon as his has touches your shoulder, bumping roughly into the shelving. With a grimace, you climb up onto the shelving and spread your shakey legs.

You can't even catch his thoughts whwn he freezes up and the Chat roars.

Holyshitholyshit holySHIT

BRO???

ANOTHER WIN FOR THE HORNY THOUGHTS LETS GOOOOO

Fuck this is so hot what the fuck fuck babe

The cooler water that resides at the edges splash out of the tub and against your backside from the force of him moving so suddenly. Technoblade makes a noise as he hovers over you. His clawed hands grip the edges of the pool so hard you can hear the wood creak. He doesn't say anything as you try to meet his eyes. Visions of all the ways he wants to fuck you right here flash through his mind and it makes you want to close your legs. You end up pressing your thighs against his and you both gasp.

You bite your lip. "Soap." He blinks dumbly and you almost change your mind about all of this. "The scentless soap," you try to clarify. "I need to prep myself."

The Chat chatters loudly as Techno moved away. You close your eyes for a moment and take a deep breath as he returns to the water and reslots himself between your legs. You take the bottle from him and try to get comfortable as he uncomfortably stares directly at your groin. Already used to this scenario, you tune him out as you pop the bottle open and pour the slick substance onto yourself. You then put the bottle to the side and slide your hand down.

This isn't the first time you've had to stretch yourself (especially since your sexual partner couldn't- not with those sharp fingertips) and far from the first time you've taken the Blade so your fingers slip in with little resistance. You shudder and remind yourself to hate how he ruined you as you skip adding a second finger and go straight for three.

You hear the creak of the wood on the edge of the pool again but ignore looking up or at Technoblade as you keep fingering yourself until you're sure you're done. As soon as your fingers were out, his cock was slapped against your inner thigh. You yelp and look up at him.

He looks down at you as he finally puts his hands on you. You hiss when he drags your ass against the shelving to pull you closer.

"Sorry-" he thinks before opening his mouth to say it out loud, but you interrupt him. You grab him by the forearm as he has your thighs and lean foward a bit, biting your lip. You suck in a breath before letting out a whine.

"Shut the fuck up- stop fucking thinking and fuck me baby."

Being so used to hearing other's people thoughts without tuning them out (even now in these current times with everything Technoblade this accursed SMP has put you through), you aren't prepared to be sp overwhelmed by whatever the hell happens in your captor's head that makes you blackout for a moment. Its like you blink and whatever sexually charged energy you had before is replaced with fear.

Somewhere in the milliseconds after you said those words, Technoblade pushed you back roughly against the shelving and the edge of the pool and was now almost balls deep inside of you. You feel the pain blossoming against the back of your head apart of your back and yelp when you feel him fill you up oh so fucking good.

Its too much.

"Tech-" You make an ugly noise as he thrusts deeper somhow. Fuck- too much.

Whatever you were trying to get out is lost on your tongue as he starts fucking into you with total abandon. Its so good and bad and great and uncomfortable and painful-

The force of his movements rocks you into the edges of the pool and makes the cooled off water splash around and hit you in the face. You've let go of his arms, instead trying to brace yourself against the shelving the best you can with no way to get a proper grip. All you can do is whine and gasp.

"I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry fuck"

"(Y/N)," comes out in a growl and you whimper. You don't know when he leaned closer. Technoblade's tusk scratch the junction between your jaw and neck. You take this opportunity to grab onto him again and moan high.

He rocks hard into you and its so much better now- fuck you can feel every inch of him. It makes you pull yourself closer to him and sob.

"Techno- Techno Techno Techno," he groans low and licks a hot strip against your neck. You breifly wonder if he's licking sweat off or left over water that was dripping down from the bath you were having a few minutes ago. You don't wonder much longer as you feel the twist in your gut from earlier tighten. You sob again.

"No no no no no," you gasp as you hold on tighter and he gets rougher. "Fuck, Techno baby please please please..."

Miraculously, the beast hears your prayers but he doesn't slow down. He pulls back and pushes you away completely. You almost don't catch yourself against the pool's edge. He's still in you for amoment more before pulling out with a wince and you cry out.

You feel dissatisfaction start to replace the lust in your head but its quickly snuffed out when Technoblade grabs you and flips you over on the shelving. He shoves you hard onto your knees with your elbows over the edge as he reenters you from behind and you shout. The change in position, depth and temperature catch you completely off guard and interupts the flow. You don't feel as aroused as you were before. You're sore.

"T-Techno?" You try to turn around to look back at him but he hits something deep inside of you hard. You put a knuckle between your teeth. "Techno? Techno please it hurts now please Techno!"

He gets even rougher and you yelp when your knees hit the wall of the pool. A shadow is cast over you and water from Technoblade's body drips down onto you as he goes full throttle and rails you like this. Fuck.

"Techno Techno Techno please love-" you manage to get out before his thrusts take your voice away. You're belly feels warm again and you sob a bit defeated. You're heads clear again and you cry as your mind races. You can't hear his thoughts properly even now- too jumbled up in the midst of him borderline mindlessly fucking you. You however can hear the Chat clearly once again. It makes your gut twist disgustingly deliciously.

Fuck baby you're doing so good

while crying is sexy can you plz go back to making those cute noises k thanx

they're not enjoying it anymore don't be fucking rude :/

Roughnoblade /neg

(Y/N) oh poor baby they're crying!!

Techno you're being too rough damn bitch

hey you're okay love you're okay plz don't cry....

Gods we're so sorry but you DO look so fucking hot like this

fuck I bet you're going to bruise so nice

Yeah techno is going to be staring at them until they heal up lmao

You bite your lip and just take it until that twisted feeling snaps and you cum like this. Techno rides out your orgasm before you feel him get bigger (or you tightned in discomfort) and he spills into you. You whimper when he pulls out and you feel the hot cum start to slide out of you. Unfortunately for you, your lover doesn't leave you bent over the cold bathing pool's edge like that for howver long you wished to and readjusts your limp form before he finishes cleaning you. You sniffle as he takes ypu out of the water and bundles you up in the softest towel he has.

"It hurt." You said simply and Technoblade glances up at where he was now kneeling by your legs, helping you put on your underwear. He looked almost guilty.

"I'm sorry," he says softly.

"G̸̨͍͍̮͙̝͍̲̾͆̌̅̓̾̕Ȏ̵̡̡̳̣̟͕͍͍̘̱͗͝͝Ô̸̪̯̰̅͗͠D̷̟̘̦͕̼͈̻̏͗̋̂̿̔̕͘," he thinks.

You wonder if he still hopes you don't hear him.

#anon ask #yandere technoblade #yandere dsmp #dsmp smut #dsmp smutshot

[nugnthopkns]

i know you get deja vu

word count: 1.4k

warnings: explicit fem!reader, cursing, it's mild angst up in this b

recommended listening: deja vu | olivia rodrigo

a/n: wrote this short little ditty while avoiding my adult responsibilities lmao. it is not great but i really like the premise, maybe one day i'll do something more with it

Your eyes have to be failing you.

There’s no way he showed up, let alone with another girl – who looks shockingly similar to you. She’s a more polished, more refined version of yourself, and anger bubbles in your stomach the moment you see him walk through the door with her in tow.

When your parents informed you they’d invited Pierre-Luc to your graduation party you shrugged it off. Their reasoning was he’d been a large part of your college experience, and it was sound enough logic. You stumbled across him in a coffee shop during your freshman year and quickly fell into a romance that lasted until a few months ago. The breakup was rather brutal, though your family doesn’t know that, so you didn’t expect him to stop by your parents’ house to congratulate you on completing your degree.

Much to your distaste he does make an appearance, with who you presume to be his new girlfriend. You don’t want to stare at the pair, but you can’t help it – they look good together, possibly better than you and Pierre did. However, you notice that the young woman has on a dress that’s identical to one hanging at the back of your closest. Pierre had bought it for you when you accompanied him to France one offseason, and the thought of him replicating the trip with her crosses your mind.

Finding it too much to be in the same room as him, you excuse yourself from a conversation with some of your father’s business partners and grab your sister by the elbow on the way into the sunroom.

“What’s the matter with you?” She grumbles, upset you pulled her away from a conversation with a boy she has a tiny crush on.

“He’s here,” you whisper shout, doing your best to inconspicuously point to the culprit of your dampened spirits.

“Who?”

“Luc.”

Her expression softens, and it’s clear she feels sorry for you. “Shit. I didn’t think he was actually going to show up.”

You let out a rather strangled laugh. “Me either, but he’s here and I don’t know what to do.”

The two of you stay tucked inside for a few more moments, deriving a plan that gets your ex-boyfriend off the premises as fast as possible without him seeing you. She heads outside first, making sure to grab one of your cousins who’s obsessed with hockey on her way. Together they make a beeline for Pierre, who is beyond excited to catch up with your family. You slip through the door and into a conversation with some fellow graduates in the back corner of the yard. It isn’t interesting, just about future plans, but it keeps you occupied. You’re careful to keep you back turned and your voice low – anything to keep your existence inconspicuous.

Your sister keeps Pierre-Luc busy, chatting to him about how the playoffs went and what his goals for the offseason are. A small crowd gathers around him, mostly just extended family members who haven’t seen him in a while, and he indulges their questions with a kind smile. You can tell your luck is running out, that he’s finally going to spot you in the crowd and rush over to say whatever he came here for. The fates are cruel, and at that moment your mother calls everyone into a circle for a toast.

“I want to thank you all for coming,” she says, pulling you to stand beside her. You can tell Pierre is looking at you, but you avert your eyes and look anywhere but him. Your mother continues talking. “We’re incredibly proud of our daughter for completing her degree, and we can’t wait to see what she does next. If you’re here, we appreciate the role you played in her success. To Y/N!”

Your name is chanted like a chorus, and your eyes meet Pierre’s as he raises his glass. The intensity of his stare makes you blush, and you bury your head into your father’s shoulder, playing it off as being overcome with emotion. More toasts ensue, including one where you thank everyone for their continued support, and then the cake is cut. You try to slip inside, praying that Pierre-Luc and his date will leave, but the devil himself grabs your elbows as you open the back door.

“Congratulations,” he says softly, accent thicker then the last time you heard his voice. You can’t lie to yourself – he looks good. The sunshine has done wonders for his skin, and the tattoos peeking out from his shirt sleeve look new.

“Thank you.”

You offer nothing more to the conversation, which clearly upsets him, but he doesn’t do anything other than knit his brows together. It makes sense that you wouldn’t want to speak to him since the last time you did was the screaming match that ended your relationship. You go to make your exit, but the small girl hanging off Pierre’s side speaks.

“It’s so nice to meet you,” she smiles. “I’m Maisie. Luc talks about you a lot.”

“Pardon?” You’re caught off guard. Why would he talk about you to his new girlfriend?

The man in question shifts uncomfortably, like he’s going to get caught in a lie. “Yeah, it’s so nice that you guys are still friends.”

There it is. Saying that you split amicably is probably the only way he could convince her to attend this stupid party in the first place. “Ah,” you sigh, “Well not everyone is afforded the same luxury.”

Against your better judgement, you compliment her dress. Maisie thanks you graciously, explaining that Pierre bought it for her and once he’s cleared to leave Columbus they’ll be taking a trip to France, with a pit-stop in Portugal because she’s never been. Your insides churn, but you manage to keep a glaringly fake smile plastered on your face. The conversation shifts, and you find out that she also studies English Literature and expects to graduate next year. You laugh off all the coincidences, but it’s obvious to you and Pierre-Luc that Maisie is a substitute for the person who came before her.

“Why don’t you go get us some drinks babe?” Pierre asks, and the girl skips away after reaching on her tip-toes to press a kiss to his cheek.

You fiddle nervously with the hem of your dress, anxious to be alone with him. “It isn’t what it looks like,” he starts, but you cut him off.

“It’s exactly what it looks like Luc, and don’t you fucking dare say otherwise.”

He lets out a defeated sigh. “So what if it is? I think it’s glaringly obvious that I still love you.”

No shit you think, but you bite your tongue and say something more respectable. “I’d say so. She’s exactly like me, but hopefully she won’t mind being asked to put her whole life on hold.” There’s a bite to your tone that you can’t help, but it sets Pierre-Luc on edge.

“You can’t still be fucking on about that.”

You’re seeing red now, irate that he is still choosing to minimize your emotions. “I am! Because you asked me not to continue school, which is something I explicitly told you I wanted to do, just so I could be a more conventional NHL girlfriend. And then you broke up with me when I said I wouldn’t do it.” You inhale a deep breath before continuing. “I hope you have fun with Maisie in France. You should take her to that little café we went to, in Bordeaux, where we ate so much food we couldn’t walk back to the hotel. And I hope that every time she looks at you like you hang the moon, you remember that you’re recycling our entire relationship because you let it fall apart at the seams.”

Perhaps your emotions got the best of you, because the look on Pierre-Luc’s face is nothing short of shock. You’re taken aback too – your parents raised you better than to say hurtful things, but seeing him again brought up a myriad of things you hadn't yet dealt with. Without another word, you spin on your heel and head inside, slamming the door behind you. It shouldn’t upset you this much, after so many months, but for a reason you’re unwilling to admit to yourself it does.

You sit in the bay window of your childhood bedroom, wrapped in a blanket even though it’s the beginning of summer, and watch as Pierre-Luc presses a kiss to her forehead before thanking your parents for inviting him one last time. Just like him, every relationship you have for the rest of your life will be an attempt to replicate the love you had for Pierre – a never-ending circle of deja vu.

☼☼☼☼

taglist: @samsteel @kiedhara @tortito @boqvistsbabe @iwantahockeyhimbo @himbos-on-ice @2manytabsopen if you want to be added shoot me an ask :)

#pierre-luc dubois imagine #pierre-luc dubois x reader #pierre-luc dubois fic #winnipeg jets imagine #nhl imagine #nhl fic #hockey imagine #hockey fic #cwrites

[spitpr1ncess]

Can I Call You Sir? / Nanami Kento x Fem Reader

--“And if I did? It’s only proved what I thought to be true all along. You’re a little degenerate, like me. I just wanted to test you, to know if you wanted what I wanted. Seems like you do, so tell me to stop and I will. Tell me you’re leaving, I’ll let you. I’m not going to force you to do anything, I respect your boundaries, and I respect that this is wrong. It just, feels so right. So deny it.”--

Fucking bullshit.

You stare at the graded paper before you and seethe from the inside out. An F? A fail?! But you’d studied relentlessly! The only thought you were having was how your mother was going to kill you when she finds out, you can practically hear her shrieking, “I’m paying heaps of money to put you through university and this is what you have to show for it?

Professor Nanami is writing something that looks vaguely recognizable on the chalk board, his tall but slim body looking oddly out of place at the front of the long classroom as you glare holes into the back of his blue shirt. There wasn’t a single person you hated more than him in this never-ending moment. You yawn and allow your head to fall heavy onto your crossed arms, hiding your shameful test results. You could listen to Professor Nanami with your eyes closed based solely on the fact that you would be failing the rest of this term if your test results were anything to go by.

The rest of the lesson passes quickly as you fall victim to maladaptive daydreams, playing out every single scenario where you approach Professor Nanami and question his harsh grading. You aren’t a stupid girl, in fact, in every other class you were smashing your target or hitting above. What was this mans problem? You imagine slamming your paper down in front of him, arms crossed and little foot tapping the floor. “Do you hate me?”, “So you have favourites?”, or just a plain “what the fuck?!” were among the favourites you’d rehearsed. His face was cold as stone as he stared back before licking his lower lip and smirking, pulling his glasses atop his head, causing a pretty ripple in his hair as he stands absolutely towering over you. A large thumb lifts your chin to look at him as his eyes bore into you. Then his lips are on yours.

Wait what?

What?

You’re roughly pulled from your daydream by your hair as a pair of polished brown shoes stand at the foot of your worn school desk and a voice beckons your name. Professor Nanami is stood less than a foot in front of you waiting for an explanation. You shoot bolt upright in the uncomfortable wooden chair as your entire body feels like its been zapped by an electric fence. You can feel the blush in your face spreading to your ears as you push the strange daydream to the back of your degenerate mind.

“Sleeping through my lectures will not help you fix that broken grade, Miss Reader. Do you understand me? Or do I need to put it more plainly? It can’t be easy with a simple mind like yours, but I’m sure we could find a way to help you absorb what I’m saying.” His eyes are cold as steel and boring into your soul, he doesn’t even blink, he’s like a robot. You hold his gaze before risking a look around the classroom revealing that it is completely empty, not a soul to be seen, brilliant. So not only had you failed your test but you’d also voluntarily agreed to extracurricular activities whilst daydreaming about kissing your Professor, it sure was a great day to be you.

You panic, how were you going to salvage this? You needed to think quickly, but nothing was springing to mind.

Clearing your throat and calming your nerves you begin, “sorry Professor I didn’t get much sleep last night, I have a lot going on at home so am finding it difficult to participate in classes at the moment.”

You are?

He lets out a small snort as he sits at the edge of your desk, peering down at you through his glasses, a look of judgement plasters his incredibly chiselled facial features, he is beautiful, and you’re happy to admit that, whether or not it could get you in trouble.

What?

“Your lies won’t cut it here, you’re excelling in all your other classes, algebra, languages and biology. These are not easy subjects and geography is a breeze in comparison, so why are you failing? Are you doing it on purpose?” Your attention is drawn to his strong throat and his Adams apple lifts and falls again as he swallows and you wonder if he is anxious about approaching you, not that he has any reason to be.

You feel anger bubble in your throat as you argue back, “I’m not a liar. I’m having trouble concentrating here. Your teaching, the class size, the fact the class is the last of the day, maybe you’re grading me too harshly! Have you considered that? Nobody else failed, so why did I?!” Your voice is shaking now and your knuckles are white as you push your nails into your palms, drawing blood. Professor Nanami looks at you for a moment before standing and heading back to his desk at the front of the class where he picks up a piece of chalk and some papers and begins to write.

“Question one is on plate tectonics, lets begin there. Would you care to explain the theory to me?” He turns and gives you a weirdly friendly smile, you calm your nerves and take a breath, opening your paper and looking at your answer, you read out the sentences you had written and cringe as you allow Professor Nanami to correct you, taking notes on his tutoring. Your personal four o’clock class finishes at just past seven as you both wrap up the test paper and Nanami wipes the board clean.

“In future Miss Reader, you come to me when you need help. You’re a smart young lady really, you know that, so put your brain to use. You’re going to do great things after your course is up so don’t discredit yourself over one failed paper.” He sits at his desk and waves his hand to dismiss you. “You’d better go now, I’m sure you have a worried boyfriend wondering where you’ve gotten to so late in the evening.” He pushes his glasses onto the top of his head, much like in your daydream, and you appreciate how good he looks for a moment. He’s aged yes, around thirty yes, but still gorgeous. You know the girls at University fawn over him, fighting to get even a slither of attention, and here you were, in a private tutoring session of your own, and without even meaning to.

You ponder the boyfriend comment before packing up and heading for the exit, deciding to test the waters you address him, “I don’t have a boyfriend Professor you see I simply don’t have time, and anyway, none of the boys here are mature enough to interest me.” You turn and give him a smile as you catch his gaze flitting up from where your stockings meet the fat of your thighs, you roll your eyes at him and shake your head as you sigh and leave for the night.

This was an interesting development.

-

Sleep washes over you as you awaken in your dream. Professor Nanami is sitting before you, he beckons for you to sit on his lap, you oblige and as you nestle against his chest, his fingers find the edge of your stocking, he traces lazy patterns on your thigh, eliciting a small sigh of pleasure from you. He nuzzles his nose against your cheek and plants a soft kiss against your neck, he pushes your soft hair behind your ear and begins to litter kisses on your sensitive lobe.

“Sweet thing, you smell heavenly, I just want to devour you.” He whispers. You throw your head back and invite him to suck and nip at your exposed throat, completely vulnerable in his arms you entrust him with your entirety. He groans as you manoeuvre your little waist to create friction with the fat of your ass and you’re met with the impossible hardness between his legs, this moment between the two of you feels like fireworks, everything is at a standstill and there is nothing but your two bodies, completely entwined, obsessed with each other’s perfect anatomy. You continue to explore each other physically as you mewl and sigh rhythmically, nothing has ever felt better than your Professors loving touch on your absolute innocence. You’d been with boys yes, but never a man like Nanami.

“Nanamin,” you cry out as he finds the hotness between your legs.

“Sweet girl, I’ll take the best care of you, just relax.” he speaks like sweet poetry from his mouth that tastes like the most expensive organic honey. Your breath hitches as he starts to disappear, you reach out but he is no longer there.

-

You jolt awake as you feel wetness pooling between your legs, the hotness and lack of friction so unbearable you are torn from the dream of all dreams.

Fuck, this is weird now.

Daydreaming about your Professor wouldn’t be the worst thing if you weren’t now absolutely sopping wet and grinding against your own mattress. You dare to slip a tiny hand under the waistband of your pants and give a little release to yourself, it felt unreal, and without realizing you were picturing him as you drive yourself to the edge and jump off head first. You’re picturing his pretty features and strong hands, his soft lips and authoritarian stare. In your head he’s praising you, “sweet thing, sweet girl” he says. You shudder as you come down from the satiating high and allow shame to encase you completely, rolling over, you stare at the screen of your phone.

5:38. A notification flashes from last night.

baby nobara: maps said you left uni at 7! wtf were u doing?? ps, shopping tmorrow?

You open the notification and type a quick reply.

you: was just studying, nothing important hahahah. sure! meet me at 11?

With that, you roll back over and let sleep nestle you gently between her arms.

-

It’s twenty minutes after your planned meet time that Nobara turns up, and holding a Krispy Kreme bag full of donuts and a doc marten tote housing at least one new pair of shoes, she’d obviously done a pre-shop, not that it was particularly out of character for her. Her gentle face is plastered with a mischievous grin as she runs and embraces you like two sisters might embrace after a long time away from each other’s presence

“I had to warm up before we got started!” she laughs at you, and all is forgiven in a matter of seconds. You’re both giggling as she opens the bag and makes you a peace offering of a strawberry donut, you eagerly accept as you discuss what shops you want to hit up today. You both spend hours browsing, trying on and chatting about everything, you don’t get to see Nobara often as you have alternating days on campus and your schedules clash horribly so the times you do spend together are cram packed full of mischief.

You’re walking past a load of stores as you approach Victoria's Secret and you immediately flash back to Professor Nanamis eyes on your stockings last night and his comment about your supposed boyfriend. Cogs are turning in your mind but before you have time to make the connection, you’re being dragged in, you have no objections and are pleasantly surprised by the variety of lingerie this particular chain of store holds. You pick out a few different numbers including a black corset body suit and a matching garter with stockings, you knew the reason for picking it out was completely inappropriate but it didn’t stop you from taking it to the counter and paying nearly 100 dollars for it. You grinned as you schemed yet another daydream waiting for your friend to decide on the bits she wanted.

You both decide on a little sushi place for lunch and as you fill your mouth with miso Nobara asks, “Who are you fucking? It has to be someone at university, that’s why you stayed so late, right?” The question completely winds you as you try not to choke on your food. Your eyes are watering as you try to explain that it was just extra-curricular studies. Nobara nods and rolls her eyes, “You don’t have to lie to me, I’ll find out sure enough.” She laughs as you pray she lets this go, shovelling some nigiri into her mouth she waves you off. “Chill,” she says as you allow your heart to slow in your chest.

You give her a hug as you finally part ways and she ruffles your hair, “See you around”, and with that she’s gone. You begin the walk home as you reflect on the events of today, you reel as you come to the realization you spent 100 dollars on a lingerie set for a man over ten years your senior who would less than likely ever find out you’d bought it. Unless.

No.

You shake the thought of trying to bait your own Professor after barely scraping by the last term, expulsion for indecent behaviour seems somewhat worse, at least you think. It also doesn’t seem good for Nobara to now suspect you have something going on with somebody, she has to know all the top gossip and you don’t doubt she will find a way. Now that you think about it, you should turn your phone location off. You know your friend would stalk you for the sake of some scandalous news she can tease you about. You giggle to yourself, you and Professor Nanami, what a thought.

-

The bell rings as you finish washing your hands, you stopped to use the bathroom before your final class of the day, Geography. You’d been anticipating this class, having chosen the black corset body suit with stockings to match, you’d paired it with a mid-length black satin skirt and an oversized cardigan, it was enough to feel comfortable in, and not break any regulations but enough for Professor Nanami to notice, which was just perfect. You wanted to test the waters after his comment and wandering eyes, you’d had time to stew over your awful test results and were wondering if maybe he was a little harsh with the grading. Either way, today would tell.

You hurry up the stairs and down the long corridor to the classroom where he lectures, there were around 30 students already settled in class and you could see your Professor writing on the board. You slip in quietly and take your seat at the back of the class, you shed your cardigan, giving a frontal view of your chest and begin to take notes. You ensure you pay full attention to todays class, not taking your eyes off the man at the front of your lecture room. You meet his gaze a few times and you sense him trying really hard to not allow his eager eyes to flit downwards, you wish for him to give you anything more than a feeling to go off of but he’s stone cold and hard as steel. As the class draws to an end Nanami dismisses the students and you wait until the room has emptied before you walk towards his desk. You wait for him to address you.

“Miss Reader, can I help you with something?” he doesn’t meet your gaze and instead continues typing something on his keyboard, you’re frustrated with how nonchalant he’s being, how you’ve probably misread the entire encounter, how you’ve created a whole reality from nothing.

“I, I was hoping maybe you would assist me with some questions I have from the class today Sir, if you have time of course.” If he wanted to play games, he would get games, you might be younger than him but you’re not stupid.

“That’s okay, you’ll have to give me ten minutes whilst I finish this email, then I’m all yours. Feel free to take a seat.” He motions for the first desk in the front row and you roll your eyes as you decide to make a stand. You pull a chair from the side of the room to Nanamis desk and sit directly opposite him, you take out your textbooks and begin to lay them out on the space behind his computer, sitting down you cross your legs, brushing his shin with your shoe. You’re sure you see his jaw tighten, but he plays it off by cracking his neck, the loud crunch distracts from the tension filled silence and you lick your bottom lip in anticipation.

He finishes with his email and pushes the computer screen to the side of his desk then leans back in his chair and loosens his tie slightly, he catches you watching the space above where his shirt is buttoned and smirks, “So what questions do you have sweet girl?”, it’s an innocent enough question but you’re walking a fine line and need to be careful. You make idle small talk about today’s class for an hour or so before asking your Professor to quiz you, it’s a shot in the dark but you’re hoping he will catch on.

“I’ve been revising, ask me any twenty questions, if I get them right you can pass me for that test!” you grin, proud of the compromise you’d come up with.

“It’s a good idea, but what if you get questions wrong? Does the fail still stand?” he laughs quietly, like he made a personal joke that only he understood, he allowed his eyes to trail down to the black floral lace encasing your chest, it wasn’t overly provocative (you were in university after all) but it was enough to make his mind wander. You test the waters again, trailing a finger over the top of the hem, outlining the soft of your breasts, Nanami shuffles in his seat and adjusts his legs, brilliant.

You allow your Professor to test you, answering all questions and waiting for each correct answer like a patient puppy, sitting for its master. At the end of the test you grin, over the moon with yourself for showing him you deserve a passing mark.

“I told you! I told you I shouldn’t have failed. You were definitely marking me too harshly!” You brush your leg against his again, and he doesn’t make an effort to move himself, he drinks you in through the round frames of his glasses that are sitting pretty on the top of his nose.

“Sweet girl, I never thought you were stupid, in fact, I think you’re rather smart. So tell me, why are you really here right now?” He sits forward in his chair and leans across his desk, towards you. Your faces are so close that you can feel his warm and tempting breath on your lips, your eyes close of their own accord and you lean in. He teases you with soft pecks and you fight back, bringing a hand to his chin but he beats you to it. Your hand completely drowned by his own, the sheer size difference a shock to your system, he holds your hand against his desk where your forgotten papers sit. With his other hand he brings his thumb just below your chin and lifts your face so your eyes can meet his, “Is this what you wanted all along? To kiss your Professor? Is this what your little get up today is about? You thought I wouldn’t notice the pretty lace? Do you know how good you look?” His rhetoric questions causing your heart to beat a hole in your chest you inhale sharply, trying to take control of your breathing once again.

“You failed me on purpose.” It’s slipped out before you have time to consider what you’re saying.

What?!

“And if I did? It’s only proved what I thought to be true all along. You’re a little degenerate, like me. I just wanted to test you, to know if you wanted what I wanted. Seems like you do, so tell me to stop and I will. Tell me you’re leaving, I’ll let you. I’m not going to force you to do anything, I respect your boundaries, and I respect that this is wrong. It just, feels so right. So deny it.”

A grown man, your professor nonetheless, sits before you in what feels like a dream, asking for you to stop this.

So stop it.

You take your free hand and pull his face into yours, you’re kissing again, this time with more desperation. It was like you were parched, and Nanami was a stream of fresh water, you couldn’t get enough, and it was like your entire life depended on it. His desk was the only thing stopping you from jumping across and allowing him to devour you whole, you thought about straddling his lap and allowing him to grab the soft fat of your ass. Not yet.

You pull away from the kiss and stand, looking at the man before you, his tie completely loose, a few strands of hair falling on his forehead allowing him to look dishevelled, his glasses slightly steamed up. He was a sight to behold and your heart was beating to within an inch of your life with the idea that you had caused it. Internally you were screaming, DON’T FUCKING STOP. But you had to, had to make sure this wouldn’t be a mistake. You leaned across the desk and picked his glasses off of his nose, placing them on your own and pulling them up, to push the hair off of your face. He looked puzzled and opened his mouth to say something but you interrupted him.

“It seems I have forgotten something, looks like I’ll have to come back to get it tomorrow, what a shame.” And with that, you shot him a grin, turned on your heels, and left. Nanami sat staring at the door in utter shock and awe as you stalked out. He quickly fixed himself up sans glasses and packed up for the day, he muttered something about teaching you a lesson, and spare frames before he left, allowing the leftover tension to dissolve.

#nanami x reader #nanami kento #jujutsu kaisen #Nanamin #nanami fanfic #archive of our own #spitprincess #spitty #my own work #original content #nanami x femme reader #kento #kento nanami x redaer

[aelingalathyniusrailme]

Broken, battered, and beautiful-chapter 2

if you haven’t go check out chapter 1

 “Oh hi.” even in the privacy of her own home elain was clothed in a fine dress made of satin, the color of sunflowers with a high neckline. Gwyn tried to muster up embarrassment for her own plain outfit that most definitely could have been mistaken for sleep wear, but she couldn’t find the energy to care.  

“Hello, um I wanted to come by to say thank you for the other day.” Gwyn felt awkward and uncomfortable, this female had done nothing to wrong her and yet it was difficult to let the protective and territorial instincts go. Azriel was not hers, it was a mantra she replayed in her mind over and over. The words a double edge sword encouraging her to move on with a torturous truth. 

“It’s no worry, I never would have left you on the ground at night” elain smiled warmly, “and besides nesta would have my head if something had happened to you.” gwyn gave her a tight smile, the most she could force herself to manage. 

They stood in an unpleasant silence, the only sound being the soft anxious tapping of gwyns hand on her thigh, a nervous tick she had yet to break. thankfully after a couple dreadfully long seconds elain spoke, “would you like to come in?” 

Gwyn let out a sigh of relief and gave a slight nod of her head. She then followed Elain into her home. As Gwyn's eyes roamed the place she felt as if she had stepped into the spring court, or what it used to look like, she supposed from what Feyre had told her about its current state. 

Elain must have noticed her curious glance at the windows stretching from ceiling to floor with the sun blazing through them, “when I was looking for an apartment I wanted as much sunlight as possible,” she paused to reposition one of her many many plants. “For me” she paused once again, taking in the almost overwhelming amount of blossoms. “And the flowers. In case you haven’t noticed, I have a slight obsession with greenery.” 

“Slight is a modest term.” gwyn noted. She laughed. The sound was sweet and full and covered the room in a joy that could not be masked. Gwyn wished she could say she couldn’t remember the last time she laughed like that, but she had. Darkness coated the once joyous memorie, infecting it with anger and malice. Pain was soon to follow but Gwyn shoved it down, pressing a lid on her emotions, better to feel nothing at all then the heartbreak of what she had lost.

Elain quickly picked up a few scattered papers on her table and pulled out a seat for gwyn. “Would you like some tea? Emerie gave me a few samples but I haven’t had the chance to try them yet.” 

“I would recommend the strawberry green tea, personally I think it’s her best, though most of them are… editable.” 

She raised an eyebrow “most?”

“Well for Emerie's sake I’ll let you form your own opinions but between you and me, I’d keep a safe distance from the lemon ginger.” 

Elain looked amused. “I will keep that in mind.” 

gwyn watched as elain made the tea quietly humming to herself. She set down the cup in front of her, “one strawberry green tea.” Gwyn gave a nod of gratitude before quickly realizing that that was a poor response. God had she lost her manners along with her dignity. 

“Thank you.” 

Once again silence fell over them, the conversation they had both known gwyn had come for hung in the air, hovering, waiting for a moment to strike. But Gwyn had made a promise to Catrin, a promise to her found sisters, and a promise to herself that she would be brave. 

“What happened between you and azriel?” she blurted. Elain took a deep breath before answering, everything about her expression and posture, unsurprised by the question. 

“In order to really understand, I would have to start from the beginning. Are you positive you want to hear the truth?”

No. yes. No.  She did not want to hear, she desperately did not want to hear but she had to know. “Yes.” 

Elain nodded, “It’s been about four years since I became fae and the subject still isn’t my-favorite, but four years ago I was engaged to a man named grayson. Looking back he was truly dreadful and a little bit of a tool. But I was in love, or.” Elain’s cheeks flushed slightly. “what I thought was love. He truly hated the fae and when I became the one thing he hated more than he loved me, his love quickly became fear and his fear fueled his hatred. I was dependent on others, in more ways than one. And with my world being literally and figuratively turned upside down, the one person who was supposed to love and support me through it all, abandoned me without hesitation. Although the argument could be made that I was coddled my entire life and this was a much needed wake up call.” Elain paused, letting out a shaky breath. 

“If this is too difficult for you we can stop.” As much as Gwyn needed to hear this story she would not force Elain to relive her trauma. 

“I owe it to you and to my sister to avoid bad blood between us and if telling you this story is what it takes, then that is the least I can do.” She took a sip of her tea. “Now I knew I had just lost who I thought was the love of my life and then I was forced into the hands of another.” 

Her stepbrother, she thought. “Lucien.” 

“Yes,” elain smiled fondly. “He was my breaking point. All I wanted was to collapse into myself, to pretend that I was still human. But with him I couldn't. He was a walking reminder of everything I hated about myself. The only thing that haunted me more than him was my own reflection. I thought that if I avoided him I could ignore the magnetic pull that drew me to him.” She looked down and bit her lip. “Denial was a personal favorite of mine.” 

Gwyn raised her eyebrows. “I can tell.” she watched as color flooded her cheeks and Gwyn's lips twitched. 

“But it was proving to be a little more difficult than I had expected. And then there was this dark, attractive male who seemed to be intrigued by me. He was kind and he was there so I forced myself to believe I had genuine feelings for him, that I desperately wanted him.” Gwyn's stomach lurched but she forced it down. “He was a perfect distraction, there were these small moments where our fingers would brush or I would find him looking at me as if he desired me. I needed so badly to believe that this was what I wanted and yet I felt nothing. I thought that becoming fae had broken me. I made up my mind that if I kissed him, the feeling I craved would come. So at solstice, when I knew there was no way for him to avoid me, I gave myself an opening and waited until after dinner to give him his gift. He gave me a necklace and kissed my neck. We were moments away from, well you know, when he left very suddenly. I was confused and a little bit hurt and I still felt nothing. So I followed him, and well” elain let out a bitter laugh. “Let's just say Azriel said some rude things.” 

Gwyn’s face was one of constant shock as elain told her the shadowsinger’s conversation with the high lord of the night court. “The only thing he could say about you was Three Brothers, Three Sisters?!?”. 

“Yep.” 

“He thought he was entitled to you because his brothers were mated to your sisters?!? Even though you had a mate??” 

“Exactly” 

“And you guys were so not on the same page, you guys weren’t even in the same gods damn book.” 

She laughed. “I guess that’s what happens when you don’t communicate.” Gwyn's thoughts were a cage of her own making, one she couldn’t escape. She was outraged on behalf of elain, how dare azriel make some sort of claim on her, she was not a toy to be passed around. But she couldn’t help but think first Mor than Elain, what the hell was she to him? Had it all been a game of pretty words and sweet lies? Was she just one of many? 

“Anyway, I decided that the distraction wasn’t worth putting myself through whatever was going on with him so I gave him back the necklace. I assume that he saw you sometime that night or in the next few days because I saw you with the necklace a couple weeks later. I know that I did not have the right to be upset considering I gave it back but, for me, it confirmed that my decision was the right one.” 

Azriel had, in fact, come to her that night Gwyn thought back to solstice 2 years ago. It was the first time she had been alone with him, It was the first time she'd been alone with any male since.

 “Azriel and I barely spoke or interacted since solstice when a couple weeks ago, when I was shopping in town I saw him so drunk he could barely walk. I’d seen him with you a couple times and it seemed like he had changed so I went to go help him and he tried to kiss me. I slapped him and walked away. The next day he came by my apartment and begged me not to tell you. I told him I owe him nothing and closed the door in his face.”. She didn’t owe Gwyn anything either and yet she still defended her. “I then told Nesta what had happened and asked her to tell you.” elain took another sip of tea. “I thought it would have been better if it came from her.” 

Gwyn watched elain, even doing something as mundane as drinking her tea, in this house, she looked more peaceful and in her element as she had ever seen her. Gwyn was also positive this was the most she had ever heard her talk and despite a part of her still wanting to rip her head off, she was grateful for the female and she was sympathetic for what she had gone through, and she was embarrassed for not seeing this side of azriel. 

“I’m sorry.” 

A puzzled look graced elain’s face. “What for?”

“For what you went through, for whatever part I played in your pain.” she chuckled at that. 

“You did nothing wrong, besides if anyone should be apologizing it should be me.” 

Gwyn snorted. “That’s ridiculous.”

“How about it should be azriel apologizing to the both of us.”

“Deal”

elain looked out the window. “Oh speaking of solstice, I have to do my gift shopping.” she glanced at Gwyn, something in her gaze she couldn’t detect, maybe pity, maybe spite from an old grudge, maybe it was genuine, maybe a mix. Whatever it was made her ask, “would you like to come with me?”

And even if it was pity or spite, even if all elain saw was a broken toy in need of saving, she said “yes.”

tagging: @stars-and-scripts  @valkygwyn @em---r @whereisvaughan @purplecherrypie @lattristantketchup @bookish-isha @meher-sumedha @jennysofoldstone @ratabrasileira 

#gwynlain #gwyn berdara #elain archeron #let me know if you want to be tagged or removed #gwynriel #elucien #I'm not going to lie I kind of enjoy shitting on azriel

[kittenyoung]

Royalty. - Yeosang smut

Request:  What about Prince!Yeosang with breeding kink, dirty talk and all that with the girl who has a secret relationship with him.

Warnings: sex while he wears his crown the entire time, dirty talk, breeding, mentions of a baby, the end is kinda cute.

Kang Yeosang. Prince Kang Yeosang.

Everybody knew his name, knew of his angelic appearance, he was one of the most adored members of the royals. Every girl in the entire land swooned for him, constant complains of how he was out of their league everytime he made an appearance. Even your best friends were obsessed with him, you had woken up to your group chat being filled with his photographs way too many times. Your friends sharing their thoughts about how badly they wanted to get closer to the prince.. in many ways. 

Little did they know that you were the one who got that experience. You had met Yeosang a couple of months ago, it was an accident, but he couldn’t let go of you and he loved the risk of being with someone who was seen as lower than him - someone who wasn’t royalty. 

He found several ways to sneak you into his home, most of your rendezvous were in the very back room of the castle, the door hidden by a large tapestry. The prince that everyone fell in love with as they watched him on television would sneak his way to the back of the castle quickly and spend the rest of his night with his cock down your throat. 

It wasn’t a rare occurence, you enjoyed it even if you didn’t get anything from it besides a sore throat and the satisfaction of knowing you were the only one who made the holy and untouchable prince feel good. 

You hadn’t actually had sex with Yeosang yet, despite the fact that you both wanted to, and tonight you were going to change that. 

You could hear the loud rawr of the audience as you waited for Yeosang to approach the back room, twiddling with your fingers as you started to become more and more anxious. You had decided to just wear some lingerie under a trench coat for today, unsure of how the princes reaction will be.

After another 10 minutes of waiting you finally heard the movement of the door handle, Yeosang making his way into the room and rushing over to you as soon as his fingers flicked the lock. He paid no attention to your outfit as his lips were automatically on yours. His kisses were always so desperate, like he had been waiting forever for you. 

As he finally pulled away from you, he finally took in your appearance, realising what you were wearing as his eyes scanned your body. Your trench coat was open and the dark red lingerie you wore for him on display. You let the coat drop from your shoulders, falling to the floor in one swift movement.

Your outfits entirely clashed as you took in his white suit, his outfit was topped with the golden crown on top of his head. 

You had never seen it upclose before, Yeosang always taking it off and leaving it in a safe place before he attended to you. Before you could reach your hand out to touch it, Yeosang was grabbing your wrists and holding them by your side. 

“I want you.” 

His lips were attached to your skin, leaving kisses on every inch of your neck to your chest. 

“You have me. Any way you want.”

As soon as the words hit Yeosang’s ears, his grip on your wrists tightened and he flipped you around to face away from you, forcefully pushing you against the large desk in the back of the room.

Your chest was now pressing against the harsh wood, Yeosang behind you tearing the red lace from your body. He wasted no time getting onto his knees, face to face with your pussy as he parted you with his fingers. Drooling at the wetness pooling out of you, suddenly regretting that he had never paid attention to pleasuring you before. 

He pushed his tongue from his mouth, tongue immediately meeting with your clit as he moved his tongue on you in small circles, slowly, teasingly. Dragging his tongue upwards he dived into your hole, forcing more of your wetness out onto his tongue, humming in satisfaction as he felt the liquid coat his tongue.

“You taste so fucking sweet. I’ve been missing out on this pussy the entire time? Shame on me.”

His tongue darted back to your clit, giving fast strokes with the muscle to your clit, pulling your clit into his mouth and sucking lightly, humming around you, sending vibrations through you. You could feel your orgasm building as his mouth worked wonders on you.

“Yeosang, I’m gonna cum.” 

With those words he pulled away from you, when you looked behind your body you could see him working on his pants, freeing his cock from the material. His crown was still adorning his head. 

You could feel his hands on your hip, pulling you closer to the edge, lining his cock with your hole.

“I’m gonna fuck this pretty little pussy now. Show me what I’ve been missing out on.” 

With those words, he pushed inside of you, his cock being embraced by your warmth, dragging a moan out as he learned how warm and tight you felt around him. You felt so good around him, felt perfect. 

After a minute he finally started to move inside of you, his cock rubbing against each of your walls. 

“Oh my god. This pussy was made for my cock.”

He hadn’t had sex in so long he was ready to lose control as he looked down to see his cock sliding in and out of you, covered in your slick. 

With a harsh thrust you felt the tip of his cock curving upwards into your g-spot, stimulating the area. A groan left his lips as you clenched around him. 

“Do that again. Please. Keep fucking me like that.”

He rut his hips against you, fucking into you at an angle so he could continue hitting your spot. 

“Does my little lady like that? Love feeling my cock inside you?”

He sucked his breath inbetween his teeth, letting out breathy grunts as he picked up his pace, he was pounding into you so hard the table was shaking and the crown upon his head was threatening to fall off.

“I love your pussy, baby. Feels so fucking good. So perfect.”

You clenched at every word that left his lips, tightening around him and making him weaker. His orgasm was approaching and he could feel it getting closer.

“I’m gonna cum inside you. Do you want that? Want to make you mine. Want to fuck royalty into you.”

You wanted to say no, you knew it was wrong, but the thought of the royal cumming inside you drove you crazy. It was forbidden, there would be consequences, but you wanted him. You wanted to be with him. If you needed to have a baby to do it, you would. 

“You wanna be a princess? Your pussy is clenching around me so much. You want my cum? Wanna make a little prince with me?” 

Your breath hitched as you felt the knots in your stomach, cumming on his cock as he spoke, fucking you through your orgasm he chased his own orgasm.

Pushing down on your back he fucked into you harder. Your legs felt like jelly and you could barely think as you felt your insides being filled up with his warm cum. He kept spilling inside of you, giving you everything he could. 

He stayed inside you for a while, cuddling you from behind, your body still pressed against the desk, it was honestly a little uncomfortable, but it was new, it was nice. 

You stood in silence until he finally pulled away, dragging you with him to sit on a small velvet couch at one side of the room. He sat you in his lap as he looked up at you, whincing as he felt his own cum coating his thigh but he tried to ignore it.

“I want to be with you, not just because of this... I actually wanted to ask you before, but you looked so good, I couldn’t hold back. Do you want to be with me?” 

You gave a small nod to him before replying,

“Yes of course I do. I always have.”

He took off his own crown from his head and set it upon yours, taking in how you look with a soft smile.

“My princess.”

#ateez smut #ateez au #ateez reactions #ateez scenarios #ateez #yeosang #yeosang smut

[mandoalorian]

Perfect To Me [Maxwell Lord x Reader]

Author's note: This is so self indulgent. I've been having a bad night and this just, kinda happened. I have a really bad relationship with my body image n stuff and so writing this sorta helped me vent out my feelings. Maxwell is like my fave character and I love him so much so ofcourseeee I wrote it with him. Anyways I want you to know that your favourite character loves you so much even when you feel like you're not worth it or in the moments you don't love yourself. I mean it, they love you.

Warnings: body dysmorphia, disordered thinking of a self conscious reader. And also. A little self conscious Maxwell.

Word count: 2.2k

Rating: PG-13

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gif by @santigarcia

You hated it. You hated everything about it. You didn't understand, when you had tried it on in the store just a few hours ago, you loved it. It fit you beautifully. But now, it wasn't the same. It was like something had drastically changed but you couldn't place your finger on what exactly it was. 

"Honey we're going to be late!" you heard Maxwell call from downstairs. Anxiety filled your body knowing that you had to be at the gala in— you checked the time— twenty minutes. "The carpool is waiting!" he called again. You could hear the stress in his voice. He hated being late, especially for events.

"Just a minute!" you shouted back but the words left your lips as a croak, breaking at the end. You scrunched your nose up in disdain and hoped that Maxwell hadn't heard the change in your voice.

You couldn't do this; your blood running cold as you stared at yourself in the mirror. You wanted to rip the dress off, climb under the blankets of your enormous bed and cry. You looked disgusting, embarassing… you didn't look like someone who should be dating Maxwell Lord. Tears pricked your eyes as you imagined the way everyone would be looking at you if you attended the gala wearing that monstrosity. You believed that the dress would be beautiful on every single other person; just not you.

You didn't know what to do. Quickly, you ran to your walk in closet and angrily began to pull out all the dresses that had been neatly organised and hung up. They fell in messy pools on the floor. You wanted to scream in anger, desperately trying to find a dress you could quickly change into. The anxiety only got worse when you could hear Maxwell downstairs making small talk with his driver. You knew they were waiting for you in the lobby. You didn't have time.

You picked up a red number that you had wore last year at the Christmas office party. You tried to weigh up if it would be appropriate for tonight's events, holding it against your body. You threw it to one side, screaming in frustration when you decided it probably wouldn't fit you anymore. You couldn't go. You'd embarrass yourself, and you'd embarrass Maxwell, and his company. 

You clutched onto the edges of your dresser, knuckles turning white as you forced yourself to look at your appearance in the mirror. The kohl black eyeliner was smudged from your tears and your foundation had begun to separate from the anxious sweat you had broken into. He would just have to leave without you.

"I'll go check on her," you heard Maxwell tell the driver. "I'm sure she's just deciding on a pair of shoes." you thought his voice sounded apologetic. You imagined him marching into your shared bedroom, angry that you were taking so long. You imagined his face burning with red rage when he saw you sitting on the edge of his bed, a complete and utter mess. Maybe you deserved it. You heard his footsteps get louder and louder as he went up the stairs and you figured there wasn't anything you could do now. Thoughts raced your mind as you wondered how you could possibly explain this to him.

"Sweetheart, I know what you say about being fashionably late but—” Maxwell stopped and froze up when he entered the bedroom, his eyes blinking between you and the pile of your dresses on the floor. You watched him, feeling ashamed, as his appearance turned from confused to concerned.

He slowly walked further into the bedroom, looking around. He glanced over all your cosmetics and hair products that were scattered across the dresser and examined the mountain pile of clothes on the floor, trailing from the closet to where you were sitting. He moved the red dress you had considered from the bed and sat next to you in silence.

Maxwell turned to face you, but you couldn't bring yourself to look at him. He placed a finger under your chin and turned your head so he could get a good look of your face. He swiped his thumb under your eye, trying to clean up your messy eyeliner, and cupped your cheek. The familiar coolness of his rings pressed against your skin eased you slightly, but you still felt an anxiety. He eventually spoke.

"Darling… what happened?" his voice was gentle and cautious. You tried to swallow the lump that had formed in your throat and looked down at the carpeted floor. You didn't answer him. He waited a few moments, and then he said your name.

"I made a mess." you gulped, looking around the bedroom. His gaze followed your eyes and he sighed.

"I can see that," he shrugged. "But I mean… you've been crying?" You nodded, feeling your cheeks heat up in shame. "Why?" he asked.

You sniffed. You could think of a thousand excuses less embarrassing than the truth. But he was your boyfriend, and this was a big problem in your life. You figured that he should know what was really going on with you. It was still scary. He was Maxwell Lord— feared by everyone. And there was a reason for that. While he had shown you nothing but love and care during the course of the relationship, you imagined the worst. You imagined him laughing at you or belittling you. Something you've had to deal with from plenty of people before. You rubbed your sore and glossy eyes before taking a deep breath.

"I hate the way this dress looks on me." you said, and Maxwell frowned, crinkles forming in between your eyebrows.

"I don't understand." there was an air of bewilderment in his voice, like he couldn't comprehend what you were telling him. It was a simple fact to you, but your opinion seemed lost on him.

Feeling frustrated, you stood up and flattened the dress down, standing before him. His jaw dropped slightly and his eyes widened as he drunk in the sight of you. The dress fit your body perfectly. He could swear that it was made for you and only you.

"If I go to the gala dressed like this, I'll embarrass you," you sniffed, scrunching up your face in disgust and immediately feeling even more self conscious as you stood in front of your boyfriend. "People will state, and laugh. They will write about me in the tabloids and-"

"Write about how beautiful you look in that dress? Damn sure." Maxwell mumbled, reaching out and taking your hand. "You're wrong. You're so wrong." he pulled you close to him and settled his hands on your waist as he continued to admire you.

"Please don't touch me," you shook your head, pushing his hands away from you. "I feel disgusting. I look disgusting. I am disgusting. Max… you should know that this isn't just a one off thing. I feel like this often, and I don't know why."

"You were obsessed with the dress when you tried it on for me earlier." Maxwell raised an eyebrow, brushing his lower lip with his finger as he processed what was going on.

"I know. I loved it. But now? I hate it. I'm sorry, you probably think this is so stupid."

Maxwell stood up and shook his head quickly. "No! No. Don't apologise. Don't ever apologise, okay? You're not stupid. I understand. I understand completely." 

"No, you don't." you sighed, holding your face in your palms. Maxwell stiffened up and shuffled uncomfortably. You pulled your face away from your hands and pulled on his wrist, reading the time on his gold wristwatch. "Max, just go. This is your big event and you don't want to be late." 

"No." he told you, loosening his bowtie and shuffling out of his suit jacket. He threw it to the floor, amongst the pile of your dresses. He kicked off his Armani shoes and folded his arms over his chest.

"If this is you being stubborn because you're upset with me for not getting dressed…" you trailed off and Maxwell looked at you. He looked hurt that you had made such a suggestion.

"You really don't think I understand how you feel?" He quizzed, and you didn't reply. He was confident, he exuded charm and charisma. He was a television star, he had done speeches in the White House and spoken to the most influential people in the world. You looked at him, waiting for him to continue. He stuck a finger into his belly. "I hate this."

You gulped. "Your tummy?"

He nodded. "I never used to have a tummy… when I was younger, I mean," he revealed, although it meant nothing to you. "But in recent years, you know. I drink a little more, have more steak dinners and don't exercise. So…"

"You're in great shape," you spluttered in disbelief. "And I love your tummy."

"Wouldn't you rather I had an eight pack?" he asked and the thought made you burst into a fit of giggles. The smile he made when he saw that he had made you laugh was unmatched.

"No, not at all!" you chuckled, nudging him playfully.

"So, I do understand," he told you. "I say I hate my tummy, you say you love it. You say you hate the way that dress fits you, and I say it's the most beautiful thing I've seen you in. Although, I think you get more beautiful everyday," he blushed and you beamed at his kind words. It was rare Maxwell would tell you something like that. "I wish you could see yourself the way I saw you. But your feelings? I'm so glad you told me. We can get through it together. I promise." he reached back to hold your hand and gave you a comforting squeeze.

"I still don't want to go to the gala." you bit your lip and he nodded understandably.

Maxwell leaned over to the phone that was on his bedside table and called down to the lobby where his driver was waiting for you both. He cleared his throat. "Yes, it's Maxwell. Take the night off. Myself and Y/N have decided we will not be attending the gala tonight."

"But sir-" the driver began and Maxwell abruptly cut him off.

"Do I pay you to question me? Hurry along now." He said before putting the phone back down on the hook. He sighed before turning back to you and smiling.

"What- what do you mean you're not attending the gala? Max, it's your gala. You have to go." 

"You think I could stand schmoozing with those slimy CEOs without you by my side? I couldn't be productive knowing that my beautiful girlfriend was at home, alone, probably watching some sad movie when her boyfriend should be with her and comforting her."

Your eyes were bright and your lips curled into a grin at his sentiment. You swung your hands around him and cuddled him tight, taking in the scent of his luxury fragrance and resting your head into his soft shirt. "I love you Maxie." you whispered, and he slung an arm around you, pushing you further into his lap.

"I love you too darling," he confessed, pressing a kiss onto the top of your head. "Cmon, let's get you out of your dress and into some cozy pyjamas."

You smiled, tugging on the collar of his shirt and pulling him into another kiss, this time on the lips. It was soft and brisk yet passionate. He pulled away slowly and you took in his dark lust blown eyes. "I wanna wear your shirt," you whined, beginning to unbutton it.

"Okay." he replied simply, leaning back and letting you pull his white button up shirt from his body.

"I love your tummy." you reminded him and he smiled, crinkles forming in the corners of his eyes and a dimple in the left of his cheek.

"Dress off, shirt on." He told you and you nodded, getting up from the bed and getting changed. Maxwell unbuttoned his belt and pulled down his tailored pants, throwing them to the floor. He took off his socks and clambered under the bed sheets, his arms out, waiting for you to join him. "I love seeing you wear my shirt." he told you as you curled up into him.

You hummed in contentment as he played with your hair. He said your name, in an almost questioning tone.

"Yes?" you replied. 

"No matter what, you'll always be perfect to me."

Permanent taglist (let me know if you wish to be added!): @supernaturalgirl @phoenixhalliwell @ah-callie @luvzoria @stardust-galaxies @wickedfrsgrl @goth-topic @nerdypinupcrystal

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #maxwell lord #maxwell lord x reader #max lord

[cockasinthebird]

Forever ago I talked about writing a “kiss cam au” that I never got to finish, and perhaps never will, but I’m still actually very happy with what I’ve got! So here you have it, three pages worth of Kiss Cam 

-

The fact that she didn’t say yes right away should have been a clear enough sign of her reluctance to go, but Steve was far too overcome with excitement of having won the tickets to really consider her hesitance as anything unusual. And looking back it wasn’t even the first time she “needed time to think”, but Steve was in love, and he thought that she was too. 

To be fair he did ask Tommy first if he wanted to go to the game, considering how obsessed he is with their college’s baseball team, but he and Carol were going on a roadtrip with her parents, leaving the day after summer break started, and Robin hates attending sports events unless there’s a promise of cheerleaders.

And maybe the fact that Nancy wasn’t his first, or even second, choice should have made everything clearer for Steve, too.

“You sure you don’t want anything?” he asks, a slight waver to his voice that he’ll claim is from excitement, but truthfully he’s starting to feel a bit… bashful, as he carries his pretzel, bag of peanuts, and large soda away from the concession stand.

“I’m fine, I have my water bottle,” comes her response with a shake of the mostly full bottle. She meets with Steve’s gaze for barely a second with a strained smile, before returning her look to the sticky floor.

“Really, whatever you want, I’m paying-”

“Steve, I-... it’s ok, I’m still full from lunch,” she sighs, heavy and edging on irritated perhaps, or at least that’s the way Steve hears it. She barely even finished her scone at the café earlier.

“Alright, just tell me if you need something- anything, ok?” he tries, smiles and looks her in the eyes as she finally offers more than a slight glance.

And she smiles back, softly, like she really cares about making Steve happy, even if baseball isn’t her first idea for a date. Or at least that’s how he interprets it.

“Ok.”

There’s a roar echoing through the tunnel, the sound of thousands and thousands of fans hyping up for the game, San Francisco Giants versus Los Angeles Dodgers, Steve himself in a white Dodgers jersey, and even from here he can feel the energy, like an electric charge shooting through him, bringing forth goosebumps and raising the hairs on his arms from pure excitement of being in a stadium again for the first time in who knows how many years. His cheeks hurt from smiling so wide, and truthfully if it wasn’t for the group of people in front of him and Nancy, he might have run out with a near child-like glee, not a care for how other people would have stared.

You’re gonna love it, he recalls telling her during the one hour drive here, It’s like being at a concert, but so much better. The camaraderie is just… so… I don’t even know how to describe it, but you’ll know it when you feel it.

Yet as they near the end of the tunnel leading to their seating area, he looks down at her and catches the way she’s chewing on her lip, hands strangling the plastic bottle till it crinkles, doubt written in between the lines of her furrowed brow. And he thinks about turning back, about telling Nancy that they can just go to the movies instead or look for a nice restaurant, whatever might make her feel better and look less dismayed, like a good boyfriend might do. You have to make sacrifices in a relationship sometimes to make it work-

But there’s a definite point of no return, as they step outside again, the faint stench of piss and beer dissipating as fresh air fills their lungs, well, fresher air - there’s still a lingering scent of sweat and musk and beer, too, but it’s lighter and less offensive, less in your face, and Steve feels invigorated by it all. Left and right he sees rows and rows of people in jerseys, foam fingers, caps, greasy food and beverages, smiles as big as his own.

This is it, the feeling of belonging, of fitting in. Despite the pushing and shoving and elbowing people do in attempts to get to their seats faster, there’s joy to be had, elation shooting through his bloodstream at just the sight of the field before him. It’s everything he remembers from the one game his dad brought him to too many years ago, and while Steve himself doesn’t care to participate in sports, it’s a feeling he’s been chasing ever since with high school baseball, and now in college he still attends every single game he can, but there’s nothing that can compare to all of this.

He inhales till it feels like his lungs might split and tear, wanting to engrain every impression of this moment into his soul, in case he’ll have to go just as many years till he can stand in such a loud and crowded space again.

Unable to look away from all the excited faces, he asks, “So, what do you think?”

“There’s… a lot of people,” Nancy says loudly in an effort to get through the horde of Dodgers fans. “Very noisy!”

“Yeah!” Steve needs to almost shout it back at her, and doesn’t deem it important to mention that that’s part of what he loves so dearly too; the inability to hear himself think, to never be alone again for as long as the game is on. 

Hell, even going to the bathroom here is a group activity surrounded by strangers that might or might not take a gander at your dick at the urinals.

“Come on, we’re just up here! Row f.”

Despite the inevitability of it, it’s still considered courteous to apologize when awkwardly making your way down the row in search of your seat, and both Steve and Nancy seem adept at it as they struggle to avoid stepping on shoes or knocking over beverages, one “Sorry” after another.

When Nancy puts a halt to the expedition. “Steve…” her voice a shy little thing only to be heard by Steve standing near flush to her back.

Steve doesn’t even need to ask what’s wrong, when looking over the top of her head is enough for him to understand why she’s this hesitant now. Loud, brash, unruly, a whole row of frat boys acting like they own this entire section, marking their territory with spilled beer and popcorn tossing. Truth be told, even Steve’s a bit intimidated just by their presence here, but refuses to let it ruin his day.

“Yeah… Yeah, you sit here and I’ll take the seat next to them, ok?”

The relief in Nancy’s strained smile is brief before falling back into the very unimpressed, very uncomfortable expression of malcontent, but this time Steve doesn’t find time to worry about her; rather he’s worried about the old, brown leather jacket thrown over his seat.

There’s a certain painfully anxious throb in his chest. From his own vague experience of the frat guys back at Purdue, they’re rarely the kind of people he’d hang around with, all that childlike pestering some just never left behind in high school. But what’s seemingly more dangerous here - sitting down on a buff stranger’s jacket, or asking him to remove it just to be told to “fuck off”.

“Excuse me, your jacket is in my seat.”

Before this stranger has even turned around Steve is already planning an exit strategy that leaves him the most dignity and preferably without getting punched, better safe than sorry and all. Between the clear tension in those broad shoulders, the way his hand grips his beer tighter, and the glare he carries as he turns to look at who dares interrupt his festivities, Steve would say it isn’t unfair to expect some unnecessary hostilities next. Yet when those refreshingly crystal clear eyes meet his, the anger furrowed in this stranger’s brow smooths out, and the way he so suddenly smiles all charming beneath that mustache, Steve fears he might blush as his heart trips over itself.

“Oh, sorry pretty boy, wasn’t sure if anyone was gonna show up.”

#Harringrove #My writing

[irishseeeker]

Anthony Bridgerton is nervous about becoming a father, and he gets an unexpected visit from a little sister out of bed past her bedtime.

Anthony Bridgerton sat at his desk in his father’s study, a glass of brandy in his hand as he stared aimlessly into nothing. It had been his study for over ten years, yet it always felt like it would be his fathers. Kate and him had officially moved into Bridgerton House a year into their marriage, and his family would be moving out in the coming weeks. They had announced to the family at dinner that evening in Bridgerton house that him and Kate were having a baby, and everyone was ecstatic. He was ecstatic. He also had this uncomfortable feeling of dread in the pit of stomach, something gnawing at his insides screaming he was going to mess it all up.

“You’re wrong, you know.”

Anthony jumped slightly, startled as he looked up. He didn’t need to look up to know who it was. He would know that voice anywhere. “Hyacinth. What are you doing out of bed?”

The youngest Bridgerton strode into the room, her hair up in ribbons for bed and wearing a light pink nightdress. “I couldn’t sleep, I came to get some milk and I saw the light under the door of your study.”

Anthony raised an eyebrow, but decided to focus on her comment instead. “I’m wrong about what, exactly?”

“That you’ll be a bad father.”

Anthony stilled. After everyone had gone to bed, him and Kate, his wife, the woman who changed everything for him, had argued in the drawing room. He had been on edge all day, and he insisted he was fine every time she asked what was wrong. He was an emotionally constipated idiot, and she saw right through him. He eventually snapped and echoed his fears and thoughts of how he was scared he was going to be a bad father, that he couldn’t be a good one. They had quickly reconciled, and she had comforted him in a way that had momentarily made him feel like nothing could ever feel wrong again, but his fears were still there. They always were. She eased them, but didn’t erase their existence.

He had excused himself to his study as she went to bed, saying he had paperwork and ledgers to go over when really he had just wanted a cold drink and to ponder his thoughts and fears alone.

Clearly they’re private conversation had not been so private after all. Bluntness had never been an issue for Hyacinth. As young as she was, he half admired his sister for always getting straight to the point, no matter how crude it could be sometimes. “Eavesdropping is rude, you know.”

“It’s also very interesting.” She hopped up on his desk, her legs swinging under her light pink nightdress. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine.”

“You shouldn’t lie,” She said as she narrowed her eyes, a look that was usually reserved for her annoying older brother Gregory who has made it his life’s mission to annoy her at every possible moment lately. “You and mother always tell me not to lie.”

Anthony raises his eyebrow at her, “How do you know I’m lying?”

“Because I know you,” She poked her index finger into his chest, “I can’t sleep knowing you’re upset.”

He felt something soften inside just as a dull ache emerged in his chest forming at her anxious expression. He pulled her carefully off the desk and into his lap, something he used to do when she wouldn’t sleep when she was a baby, driving the nurses nearly to insanity with her screaming before Anthony intervened and just held her at his desk. She would sit against him for hours, sleeping, while Anthony worked at his desk or simply just sat, staring at her. Mother had found them the following morning on more than one occasion, both asleep at his desk. She was a lot bigger now, but she still fit on his lap, curling herself around him and wrapping her arms around his neck. His voice was soft as he spoke. “I do not want you worrying about me, darling.”

Hyacinth shrugged, “You cannot always get what you want. That’s what you said to me when I could not get both the purple and yellow doll for my birthday this year.”

“You’re always one step ahead of me, aren’t you?” He laughed, remembering how her nose scrunched up in deep thought as she spent nearly an hour deciding what doll she wanted, eventually settling on the yellow one in the shop. As if he hadn’t bought the two of them anyway, safely hidden away until her birthday next week.

Hyacinth nodded, her face oddly serious for someone so young. She furrowed her eyebrows, scrunching her nose slightly. “Listen to me, Anthony. Do not interrupt. What I have to say is terribly important. When people ask me about father, usually they know he is dead. I don’t want to upset anyone. Especially not you or mother. So I just nod and agree, never having much to say. But-he’s not really dead. Not to me.”

Anthony stilled slightly, the lump resting in his throat had begun to ache again. “I never knew him,” She let out a short sigh before continuing. “He died before I was born. I know everyone has memories of him. I love to hear about them. I truly do. But,” She paused, tilting her chin up to look at him. “All my memories are of you, Anthony.”

“You,” She said, emphasizing her point. “You were the one who was there for it all. Those big moments I know you were there for-my birth, my first words, my first steps-even when I can’t remember them, I can feel your presence. You let me sleep with you when I have nightmares. You play dolls with me when no one else will. You hold my hand. You taught me how to horse ride. You are the first person I want when something is wrong or even when nothing is wrong, I just want to be with you.”

Anthony half closed his eyes, attempting to fight the rush of tears quickly forming behind his eyelids. But he didn’t look away from her.

“So,” She took a deep breath, her watering eyes boring into his as she didn’t blink for a few seconds. “When I think about my father and what makes a father, I always think of you. How could you ever think you wouldn’t be a good father when you’re already an amazing one?”

The tears that had been threatening to fall had no chance anymore once Hyacinth spoke those words, and her wet cheeks now matched hers.

She shook her head before continuing. “It’s not just to me, either. I know all the others see you in the same way. But I can’t speak for them, I can only speak for myself, and it is different for me. All I have ever known is you.”

“That’s why I know you are going to be an amazing father, Anthony,” Her voice was soft and light, as if every word was extremely delicate and she had never meant something so much in her life. Her small hand moved to cup his cheek. “Because you are one. You didn’t have to lead this family the way you do, some people who have fathers who are still alive have never loved and cared for us the way you have, but you did it anyway. Because you’re you.”

“And if you need physical evidence of what an amazing job you did,” Hyacinth gestured to herself. “Voila. That’s a french word Governess taught me.” He brushed one of her curls behind her ear, letting out a mixture between a choked laugh and sob. “When did you get so wise?”

Her retort was quick. “I’ve always been wise.”

He pressed a kiss to her forehead, leaning down to rest his against hers. “You truly are the light of my life, Hyacinth.”

“I’m glad you married Kate,“ She said, smiling brightly up at him. “I was scared she was some evil witch who would steal you away, that is what Regina said happened to older brothers when they got married-but I rather love Kate. She is very funny.” “She is.” “And she makes you happy?”

“She does.”

“And you make her happy?”

“I do.”

“Good. So a baby will just make you both happier. Problem solved.” It wasn’t a question, it was a statement.

Hyacinth yawned slightly, moving her head against his chest. “What would I do without you?”

He loved all of his siblings with everything he had, but there had always been something about Hyacinth that was different. She was his. And he was hers. She was this light that had come into his life a few months after he had lost his father, and she owned his heart from the moment he had held her for the first time and she wrapped her tiny fist around his index finger. There was nothing else he could say, nothing else that could ever express the comfort his sister had given him tonight, the reassurance that he was enough, enough for Kate, their baby and himself, and everything was going to be alright, except for: “I love you.”

Her eyelids were closed, but she mumbled, “I love you more.”

Kate Bridgerton found them the next morning, having drifted off upstairs before her husband had come to bed. She found Anthony and Hyacinth curled up in his chair, both fast asleep with his chin resting on her head.

He woke up slowly at the noise of the door opening, his eyes taking a few moments to adjust to his surroundings and the memories of the previous evening flooding back into his brain. But it didn’t matter. He saw Kate across the room, smiling at him, and he smiled back.

They didn’t have to say anything, they both just knew.

Everything was going to be fine. Not just fine.

 It was going to be brilliant.

A/N: this is my first fic in a long time but the idea popped into my head and it sort of went from there. It’s very sweet and soft, I hope people enjoy! My new obsession is anthony bridgerton & bridgerton, and I’m trying to get back into writing so have a few kate/anthony fics in the making atm as after reading the viscount who loved me they are IT.~

#bridgerton #anthony bridgerton #hyacinth bridgerton #kate sheffield #kate sharma #fanfiction #my fics #the viscount who loved me #anthony x kate #ao3 #daphne bridgerton #simon basset #eloise bridgerton #colin bridgerton

[primergon]

imagine sleeping/cuddling with the decepticons !

Megatron: He doesn’t like to sleep with company. Even back in Kaon, he would never let anyone stay in his berth any longer than necessary. You understand old habits are hard to let go, but when he made an exception for you, you can’t help but tear up a little at the sight of him displacing his mass to slid right next to you. The fact that it had been your bed instead of his made you even giddier. He would wrap both arms around you protectively, sometimes it gets so tight to the point where you can’t really move – but into the night his grip would loosen and you’ll adjust your positions. His head would rest above your chest and you’ll have his head cradled between your hands. When the sun rises, the sight of your legs intertwined is almost enough to make him forget that he has duties to attend aboard the Nemesis. Almost.

Soundwave: He’s not picky when it comes to sleeping together, sometimes you’ll sleep right next to his helm or he’ll shrink down to fit into your bed so you can cuddle. You never expected this from him, considering that you took him for the type who hates cuddling. He is a light sleeper, who is almost unmoving in slumber ( he could eerily pass for a corpse ) and most importantly, even in recharge, he keeps his visor. Yet, Soundwave is surprisingly affectionate in his own way. So when into the night you had found that he had retracted his helm to nuzzle his face into your shoulder, you had to keep still to make sure that the moment lasts.

Knockout: Sleeping with Knockout is to say stressful, in a sense that he loves to hog the blanket. Ever since you introduced him to wool blankets, he’s been obsessed. He would always beat you to the human bed you share in his quarters, because apparently once he discovered just how soft human beds are his berth have been mercilessly abandoned. He would already be buried between the pillows, the thrum of his engines signaling that the doctor’s deep in recharge. Yet into the night, he’d unconsciously try to rip the blanket off you, which would always lead to you pressing against one another to keep the fabric on both of you. It’s a playful wrestle that would sometimes wake him, and once he sees your shirt hiking above your midrib – he’d instantly be awake and more than ready to abandon sleep. Breakdown: You would never have to spend another cent on plushies because why buy a life-sized teddy bear when you have Breakdown? Although the metal would fool anyone into thinking that cuddling would be painful, he is surprisingly warm and gentle – and you’re more than happy to see that your limbs would slot perfectly against his from time to time. Cuddling is a must with the gentle giant, and you’d both spend a few minutes under the covers sleepily talking about your day. It was only a matter of time before one of you falls asleep, which would prompt the other to pull the blanket and turn off the lights. Once in awhile, you’ll wake up to find him stroking your hair or kissing your forehead, prompting you to bury yourself deeper under his chin.

Starscream: Against popular belief, Starscream is a wonderful berth-partner. You spend more time bonding during your nightly routines than anywhere else, where Starscream would vent to you about his day as you apply your skincare. At times, the both of you would walk past the sliding doors and decide with a single look that you are both too tired for anything, and you’ll both wordlessly collapse on the bed – atop the sheets with the lights on. However, when you wake in the middle of the night, you’d already be under the covers – with the lights off and his arm resting against your hipbone. He would switch in between being the big and little spoon, depending on his mood – but you don’t mind. He’s surprisingly tame in his sleep, and since you’re with him, he’s less anxious about waking up in the dead of the night to escape Megatron’s wrath or an Autobot attack. But he still remains restless at times, then again you’re always there to rub comforting circles against his wings.

Shockwave: When dating someone with the emotional range of a teaspoon, you didn’t expect much from Shockwave. In fact, you expected nothing at all. He never holds your hand or kisses you unless you ask for it. He never hugs you out of the blue or comfort you when you cry – sometimes you question why you stayed and feel guilty about wanting more from him. Until he invites you to bed for the first time – it wasn’t even suggestive. The two of you lay there, face to face, with a small space between the two of you that stretched for what seemed like miles. The initial awkwardness doesn’t seem to fade, and you nearly resorted to turning around to face the other way. Until he reaches out, ever so slowly, and lays a hand in the empty space. “ I understand you desire a more…emotional approach to our relationship.” It took you a while to realize it was an invitation, and you’d tentatively put your hand there – by morning he’s already gone, but you can still feel the warmth of his fingers cradling yours the entire day.

Dreadwing: Considering that he’s a very old school mech, you expected chivalry to prevent him from sleeping with you until marriage. Yet, he’s open to the idea of sharing a bed with you, if not shy. And you couldn’t help but grin at the sight of him unsure and slightly flustered at the prospect of sharing a bed. In the beginning, he laid on the furthest edge of the bed, acting as if you were a carrier of some contagious disease. Until you beckoned him to come closer, and as the days bled to weeks, the gap between the two of you shrunk, to the point where he has both arms wrapped around you at all times throughout the night. He would sometimes, oddly enough, slide down unconsciously – until his head is resting against your stomach. Or sometimes, he’d be the one to press you against his chest, with your open palm resting above his spark.

Predaking: You once told him that you loved sleeping with his dragon form, and from then on he had let you curl against his tail, secured right next to his jaw protectively. Once he discovered that sleeping that way for too long hurts your body, he had offered to sleep on your bed – alas it broke under the sheer weight of his armor, and you have decided to buy a futon for both of you to sleep on. It was uncomfortable in the beginning, as his claws were too sharp and would sometimes poke you in your sleep. Yet, when winter and the rainy season rolls around, you’d be more than happy to cuddle against your own personal heater. Especially when that heater comes with affectionate nuzzles and kisses. You have to make sure the kisses wouldn’t lead to anything more from time to time, considering that even if his stamina is never-ending, you, on the other hand, have to sleep.

ST3V3: You have a love-hate relationship with sleeping with ST3V3. While you understand he is your boyfriend, he is also your best friend – meaning you can’t expect to fall asleep right away when he’s always making you laugh in the dark. He’s like that one kid during sleepovers who’d make people laugh for no absolute reason and keep them awake until morning. Unless you’re tired, then he’d dramatically carry you to bed before WWE slamming you against the cushions. He’d hold you close, but don’t expect him to not lean into your ear to whisper some outdated meme to annoy you on purpose, you might have to keep a pillow ready at hand to throw at him.

( A/N : forgive me if grammar isn’t perfect or if it doesn’t make that much sense as I too, am writing this as I am sleep deprived, the only difference is that i don’t have a robot bf to cuddle :”( , find me @/primergonn on insta !)

#transformers #tfp #tfpscenarios #tfpimagine #imaginetfp #scenariotfp #headcannonstfp #tfpheadcannons #transformersprime #transformers headcanon #reader inserts #decepticons #tf #tfscenarios #tfimagine #tf headcanons #tf imagine #tfp headcanons #tfp imagine #imagine tfp #starscream #knockout #megatron #shockwave #soundwave #maccad #breakdown #maccadam #predaking #st3v3

[mrvdocks]

Plus One

Things get real. Can you totally hide your feelings for Steve any longer? 

smut warning

(chapter four) @mochminnie @wolfish-willow

You’re in the bathroom trying not to freak out or let it show just how much your mind was reeling from earlier. It couldn’t be happening, right? There’s no way you were falling for Steve Harrington. 

No, no way. He was so different from you. 

But opposites attract right? 

You grimaced, thinking back to the way his eyes flickered from your eyes to your lips. The way he too seemed unsure of going for it.

This would change your entire dynamic. Were you even ready to open up to someone else?

Steve knew you, sure, but just the things at surface level. Things you wanted him to know. You were afraid to even tell him about everything else back home, thinking maybe he would freak at the first sight of a parent gushing over how perfect he seemed. 

If there’s anything a person never is, it’s perfect. 

In many ways, Steve just didn’t seem like an ideal candidate. He never put his things away, snores too loudly, had the romantic personality of a ninth-grader, was obsessed with his hair way more than you were, and he looked for superficial things. 

He knew it too deep down, it was better to ignore the flaws for the love we think we deserved instead of feeling contrite when the ugly truth was out there.

That’s where you differed. You needed honesty, it was the only way to live.

Knock. 

“Hey, you okay?” Steve’s voice echoed from behind the door. 

You squeezed your eyes shut. He just had to be here right now, didn’t he?

You think of something gross enough to keep him on the other side.

“I think the food’s not agreeing with me right now.” 

“Oh okay, do you need anything?” Damn it, leave!

“No! I mean - no. It’s alright. I’ll be right out.” 

You count down from ten, trying to ease your anxious nerves. You take deep breaths and exhale once you get to the primary numbers. At one, you stand straight and march out of the bathroom as if nothing happened. Steve sits on the edge of the bed in his dress shirt now, his blazer discarded onto the chair next to him. 

He’s watching the tv blankly, a rerun of a show you both had seen back home fills out the room. You grab your night clothes and return to the bathroom, changing as fast as you can to slide into bed and call it a night. When you return, Steve’s still where he was before, only now fidgeting with the cuff links on his wrist.

You should be paid for how much you’re able to get out of him. 

“Are you okay? You look like you’re about to cry or something.”

“My dad’s getting married.”

It takes you by surprise. Steve’s never talked about his dad before, not even to Robin.

“Oh,” You say simply. “Like renewing his vows or something?” 

He shakes his head. 

“My mom moved away a while ago. My dad, he uh…..met this woman half his age after her. She’s got kids from another marriage.” He flicks the cuff link. 

“Before I moved to New York with Robin, I would just see and hear them all the time at home. He was nicer to them, do things with them that I had to beg him to do with me when I was a kid.”

You sit next to him, bringing your hand to rest atop his own. 

“The night before I left, I just told him off. I told him it wasn’t fair that he got to start over with another family just because he messed ours up. He called me before we got here saying he wanted me to be his best man.”

He falls silent, his lip quivers but he purses his lips into a straight line to keep himself from letting it out. You can’t say much that will help him, but you understand his disdain and avoidance of weddings thus far.

“What’d you tell him?”

He shrugs. “I told him I’d think about it. He expects an answer when we go home.”

“Well, at least he’s happy.” You sigh.

“Yeah, for now. And then it’s onto the next one.”

You don’t want to do it, but since you’re just letting the skeletons out of the closet, you might as well. 

“You know my parents are still together?” you start. “My mom’s always been this, overbearing cross that my dad carries around. She yells at him all the time but I think he’s checked out already. They didn’t want to divorce because they thought it would damn them or mess me up. But I think it did anyway.”

Steve’s entranced by you, you were opening up. 

“They’ve stuck it out since they had me. And it’s just sad now. I think about them sometimes, just sitting in that house, eating their dinner and sleeping together, not saying a word to each other.”

Steve opens his mouth like he’s about to apologize for even bringing the parent topic up.

“Sure your parents split up, but at least they’re not miserable. I can tell you from experience you would’ve liked that a lot less.” You conclude, removing your hand from his and leaving to go to bed. 

It’s been a weird night.

Steve stops you though, his fingers snaking onto your wrist. You turn back, thinking he’s going to talk more about his family or dive deeper into some other trauma. Imagine your surprise when he stands and bends to your level to pull you into his arms, bringing you in tight and firm. You’re taken aback, arms flying up but eventually settling on his broad back. Your fingers clutch his shirt in fistfuls, taking in the smell of him. 

“Hey, Steve?”

He hums.

“I’m totally reading your boner right now.”

“And the moment’s over.” He says, pulling away. You almost frown at the loss of his body pressing against yours. 

“I’m kidding!” You huff, pushing him back onto the bed. 

You settle in after he changes, pulling the covers up to your chest and putting your arms above them in thought. Steve sees you staring at the ceiling.

“Have you gone catatonic on me?”

“No, it’s just….this is the most I’ve gotten out of you in two years.”

“You’ve known me for two years.” He crawls in, getting comfortable. 

“Yeah but, you know, are these really things you’ve told Robin before?”

“Not really.”

“Why not?”

“She never asked.”

Truthfully, it wasn’t that. While Robin felt comfortable revealing the truth about herself that Fourth of July, Steve had learned to keep things to himself. It’s how he was raised. But you and Robin changed that, especially with the way you tended to overshare things sometimes. 

You turn onto your side, facing him. He’s thinking about something, and he looks so magnificent doing it. The way his hair rests on his forehead, the way his fingers curl around the blanket... 

Oh no. Is this how it starts? Admiring him? Craving his touch like earlier? Wanting his attention fully on you and not all these other women? It was so juvenile, feeling like this was your first love again. The strong feeling hitting you just like the waves did earlier.

It was no secret you were touch starved, but there was something in the way his touch relaxed you. It made you think sometimes. Whatever this feeling was, it was different from what you felt with Danny. You jumped the shark with him, you didn’t really know him. 

But with Steve, you were starting to. He was bare bones with you. 

“Goodnight.” He whispers, turning the bedside lamp off.

“Goodnight.” 

“Are you telling me you don’t know how to ride a bike?” You ask Steve, watching him shift uncomfortably and unevenly on the beach cruiser.

It was your last day being in Virginia, and you didn’t want to sit in the hotel and gorge on food until you passed out. That’s what home was reserved for. 

Joyce had spoken of how lovely the horses and horseback riding was here, but that was closed so you settled for the next best thing. Riding bikes at the beach.

“No I - I do know, I’m just saying this is a hard seat.” 

He’s been adamant about this for five minutes now. Every now and then a girl will pass by and he’ll try to sit, only to fall on his side. You’ve taken so many snapshots of this, each time bellowing with ridiculous laughter.

“When we go home I’m developing this and hanging it on the fridge.”

“Erase this footage!” He gestures to the camera, losing balance again.

“Make me, Harrington!” You can’t help but shoot back.

Passersby found it funny the way you two were bickering. Even more so when you lent over to show Steve how to keep his arms and legs on the bike, him reassuring you he knew where everything went.

“I can do it.” 

“Okay, let’s see then.” You cross your arms and stand aside waiting. 

He mutters to himself and puts both his feet on the pedals, not falling to either side this time. He grips the handlebars and pedals forward, passing you with an excitement lighting up his face that a child would have when they were first learning. 

He can’t manage the turn and falters, sticking a foot and hand out to cushion his fall. You catch up to him, ready to help but he lays down onto the grass and accepts his failure. 

“Come on, you’ll get the hang of it. You just need more practice.” 

You hold out your hand, waiting for him to take it. 

“I know this keeps you healthy, but at what cost?” He grabs on, using you to balance him when he gets to his feet again. He’s too tall and heavy for you, prompting you to waver slightly and hold onto him. 

You pull away when you realize your hands rested on his chest, his other arm holding onto your lower back. He scratches the back of his head nervously uttering an apology.

Feeling the blush creep to your cheeks, you return to your ride, mounting and waiting for him to do the same. 

“Try to catch up.” You smirk, racing off down the hill and squealing. 

“What are you, Evel Knievel?!” He yells after you, wobbling and gritting his teeth as he follows after you. 

You have the upper hand on him the entire time, often hiding behind shops and emerging from behind him when he thinks he’s faster. You ride until the sun sets, enjoying the breeze and the little bit of sun before stopping at an ice cream shop. Steve thinks he’s something of an ice cream connoisseur when you look at flavors. You two end up fighting on flavors before settling on two different ones and eating outside in a garden the shop owner called a hidden gem.

“No way, cookies ‘n cream is the best one.” He remarks, finishing off the cone. 

“Mint chocolate is actually superior and I won’t hear another word about it.” You took your time, enjoying the sensation your mouth was on. 

He shakes his head. “It’s basically gum! It’s disgusting!” 

“But it tastes so good!” You take another bite teeth first and moan in delight. 

He groans in disgust but nonetheless is amused when you try to get him to eat a bit of it. He avoids your hand, moving his head out of the way every time it’s shoved in his face. You wait, plotting. 

“You have some on your lip.” You say, pointing toward his top lip. He licks at it, tasting nothing.

“There’s noth -”

He’s muffled by a mouthful mint chocolate. You can’t help it when the corners of your lips lift into a smug smirk. 

“Funny, huh?” He says, wiping it off with his hand. 

He takes the rest of the cone and dips his fingertips in it, turning his attention to painting your cheeks and lips with as much as he can. You recoil and gasp as the cold sensation, trying to get it off but he keeps attacking. 

“Okay! Okay! Truce!” You wave a figurative white flag. He stops, proud of his work, and tops it off by rustling your hair. 

“I’m so gonna get you,” You promise, wiping at your cheeks and going to get him with the residue when you turn to face him and find your faces are closer than ever. 

You fall silent, the trouble maker in you declining to come back for an encore. 

“What, no smartass remark this time?” He teases. 

As cliche as it might sound, you’re lost in his smugness. His smile falters, his brows furrowing as he realizes what he’s doing, the gap between your faces closing. You close your eyes first, testing the waters and pressing your lips against his softly. He pauses for a moment, suddenly aware of the gravity of what you were doing, bringing his hand up for your cheek to rest on. His eyes flutter shut soon after, diving into your lips and tasting the mixture of sweets. 

He kisses you feverishly and desperately, sighing as he relaxes into you. Your fingers tug at his hair and the back collar of his shirt. He leads you down onto the grass, flowers decorate your head in a red halo. He settles in between your legs and holds himself up by his forearms, his fingers entangling themselves in your hair as he cocks his head to the side to get more of you.

It’s been a while but both of you are antsy and eager. You kick off your shoes and immediately make quick work of his belted pants. He catches your drift and helps you with your skirt, pulling the long pleated material up to snag both ends of your panties. 

“Ow.” 

“Sorry.” He whispers.

“No, it’s okay, just - here,” You grunt as you try to help him from where you’re laying, lifting your hips up to let the fabric slide off. The cool air of the night makes you shiver. 

Steve peppers you with kisses as you reach for the belt and unbuckle it. Hearing it come undone makes you even more aroused. 

“Hold on.” He says in a breathy voice, reaching between your bodies and lining himself in. You tease him by wrapping a leg around his torso and pushing him in slowly with the heel of your foot against his butt.

The feeling overwhelms him, letting out a sharp exhale. He glances back to your smug face and glares at you momentarily. 

You move in sync, your hand grasping onto his broad shoulders and the other on his bicep to keep the pace. He grunts into your shoulder, lost in the lust. His hand comes to rest under your head to support it while also gripping it with each thrust he bucked into you. 

Each thrust was different, pleasurable, and enticing. It fulfilled the need for him you had that night at the beach. You catch yourself smiling, knowing none of the bridesmaids or guests he tried flirting with got this far. Not even Sissy.

He hits a spot in you that rouses you out of your thoughts and leaves you mewling wantonly. You know he won’t last, not at the rate his thrusts are going. He’s crying out, bucking against you in fervor, gripping your hair harder, and groaning louder into your neck. You made him this way. 

Ever since the first wedding, seeing you out of your element made him reconsider some things. Sure if he’d gotten a girlfriend out of this, it would be good for him. But something about you made him feel the way he thought he felt for Nancy. 

He felt seventeen all over again, giddy and in love and a little horny. He just didn’t know if you felt the same. But after the beach incident and the way you took the lead first, all doubts went away.

Thinking about you, he slides his thumb into his mouth and lubricates it, snaking it down to the neglected pearl in between your legs. Your eyes shut in ecstasy at the added sensation, your back arching into him. You feel your legs shake and your feet writhe against his ass trying to amplify the feeling. His heavy breaths, needy kisses, and raunchy whispers in your ear are absolute heaven to you. 

You come before him, muffling your lewd moans into his shoulder and milking him for everything he’s got. He comes with a final sloppy thrust and collapses onto you, knocking the wind out of you and leaving you catching your breath.

He pants, breath hot and heavy against your collarbone. Your legs unwrap from their previous position, now shaky and limp. 

Once you two catch your breath after about a minute or two, Steve lifts his head to rest his forehead against yours. You both chuckle, finally acknowledging the broken tension.

Steve kisses you again, this time without fear or doubt. Just pure adoration. 

You don’t really feel yourself fall asleep, neither does he. But you’re definitely mortified in the morning when you hear voices that wake you up with a start.

“Cooter’s out.” The old gardener points out.

The statement wakes you up, and when you realize you just flashed your privates you stand up quickly and shake Steve awake. He groans, but opens his eyes, his smile dropping once he notices the man in front of you two. 

“Cooter’s out.” The old man repeats.

You pull the skirt all the way down and grab your shoes quickly while Steve tucks himself back in and apologizes profusely. You grab his hand and race out of the garden, red as a tomato and grab the bikes to go back to the hotel. 

The car ride to the airport is quiet. You thank yourself for bringing something to read to avoid mentioning the embarrassing aftermath. Steve didn’t bring anything to distract him like you did, but he glances at you every so often. When your eyes meet, you both turn away quickly. But the smile on both your faces betrays you both. 

Steve doesn’t even bother flirting with the flight attendant this time, his eyes are completely on you. It feels odd. You can’t even find a smart-ass thing to say, it’s like you’re short-circuiting. You didn’t know what he was thinking, but if the constant staring and easy smiles and looks of adoration he gave you were any indications, he was whipped.

You sigh in relief as you plop onto the couch, letting all your things fall after Steve gets in. He takes the initiative to break the ice when he collapses onto your chest. 

You’re winded again. “Whoa, someone ate too much shrimp at the wedding.”

Steve suppresses a chuckle, taking you in. You had some type of glow he’d never noticed before.

“So…” He begins.

“So…”

“About last night,” he starts but you cut him off.

“We don’t need to talk about it, you know if you don’t want to.” 

“I do.” He murmurs into your chest. He hugs your body, his head resting on your chest the same way Mickey would do it. 

Damn it, you actually liked this. 

“Great sex.” You blurt, shutting your eyes in disbelief at how awkward he suddenly made you.

His dimples peeked out as he felt himself chuckling. “Yeah, great sex.”

“I’m sorry,” you jittered. “I’m never usually like this.”

“Oh, I know. But it’s okay. I had fun.” 

You haven’t felt this excited for something to potentially happen since you met Danny. But even now you were hopeful.

“Steve?”

“Hmm?”

“Do you want me to go with you to your dad’s wedding?”

He must’ve remembered he had to answer that best man question because he’s unmoving.

How bad can it be? He thinks. Now that I have you.

“Yes please.”

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagine #stranger things imagine #joe keery x reader

[the-mighty-jellybean]

Black & Blue

Bruise: an injury appearing as an area of discoloured skin on the body, caused by a blow or impact rupturing underlying blood vessels...

Series Summary:

‘They littered her arms like splashes of watercolor paints, Steve couldn't stop staring, she pulled at the sleeves of her cardigan when she caught him. “I fell.” she muttered, pulling the fabric tight over her fragile body. All Steve wanted to do was pick her up, and put her in a box, like you would a broken bird. He wanted to fix this little bird, but he didn't know how.’

Pairing: Doctor!Steve x Reader, Brock x Reader

Series Warning: This story is going to be quite dark and heavy, and will contain heavy themes of domestic abuse. There will be: Violence and possible Noncon, if you are uncomfortable with any of these themes, please don't read, this book won't be for you.

Part One//  Part Two//  Part Three//  Part Four//  Part Five//  Part Six//  Part Seven//  Part Eight//

Part Nine: My Body

Chapter Warnings: Strong Language

Word Count: 3.2k

“So, you’ve got enough feed for a week of tube time,” Bucky’s eyes glinted with mischief, as Y/N shook her head, but had her own playful look, “Steve can help you with them throughout the day, while I can do the evening.”

“I’ve already told you both, I don’t need to be watched 24/7, you shouldn’t have to change your entire rota, to fit it round me.” Y/N fiddled with her hands, guiltily.

Steve had changed the work schedule so that he could be with Y/N throughout the day, and then he would work the night shift, and Bucky would be with her, so that she wasn’t left alone in the apartment at night. Despite Y/N’s protests, Steve had insisted that it was for the best.

“Between me and you, Y/N; Steve’s fallen hard for you, and he just wants you safe, so if that means jigging round the rota, then that’s what we’ll do.” Bucky shrugged.

“He’s fallen for me?” Y/N’s ears perked, and she felt her stomach glow.

“Don’t tell him I said that, he will literally kill me, and throw my body in the East River.” Bucky chuckled, but there was a hint in his eyes that he might be serious.

“Your secret’s safe with me.” Y/N whispered, bumping Bucky on the shoulder.

Bucky continued to read out her discharge paper, when Steve wondered into the little room, where Y/N was sat on the edge swinging her legs.

“Ready to go?” Steve smiled, pulling Y/N into his side.

“Mmhm, I’ve got my ready meals and my concoction of drugs,” Y/N picked up the plastic bag of pills, and the box of feed, shaking them at Steve, “I’m all set.”

“If you could just sign here,” Bucky held out a clipboard with the discharge papers clipped to it, “…and you are…free.”

“Finally.” Y/N sighed, looking up at Steve, who was already looking down at her, with a big grin on his face.

~~~~~

“I’ve tried to clean up, as best I could, but when you have three guys living in a small apartment, it’s a bit like trying to clean your teeth with Oreos.” Y/N giggled, as Steve explained the state of his apartment, as the two drove towards it.

“I’m sure it’ll be fine.” Y/N assured Steve, gazing out the window, watching the buildings and people pass by the window. She had sunk down in her seat, a little nervous about, who could be watching, still shaken by the incident that had happened a few days ago.

“Well, here we are.” Steve turned the wheel into the parking space outside the tower block, Y/N gazed up at the dark brick, it seemed homely, but she would think that about any accommodation that wasn’t the jail she had before.

The two climbed out, Y/N pulling the hospital hoodie, she had been given, tightly around her small frame, feeling exposed and anxious to get inside and hidden away.

However, a wash of relief swarmed her body, when Steve edged his way towards her, and Y/N happily took his hand, squeezing it tightly.

They made their way into the building, jumping into the elevator, and ascending up the floors. Just as the doors opened, Y/N hid behind Steve’s arm, when they were met by an elderly lady.

“Ah, Doctor Rogers, this is a nice surprise.” She brightly smiled, looking between Steve and Y/N, “who’s this?”

“Hi, Mrs Tinel, this is…er…” Steve stumbled unsure what to say, considering Y/N was supposed to be in hiding.

“Kate.” Y/N jumped in, “My name is Kate.”

The woman seemed a little suspicious but kept her smile friendly; “It’s lovely to meet you, Kate, it’s so nice to see Steve with a lady friend,” she came closer to Y/N, which made her back away slightly, but she could still hear what the woman was saying, “I was beginning to wonder if he was one of those.” She made a face, which had Y/N struggling to supress a laugh.

Steve’s cheeks glow, and he coughed a little to dislodge the lump of embarrassment, that got stuck in his throat.

“Well…thank you Mrs Tinel…lovely to see you.” Steve dragged Y/N from the elevator, pulling her down the corridor, before the elderly neighbour could say anything else awkward.

“She seems sweet.” Y/N complemented, but Steve shook his head, fumbling with his keys.

“She’s a little crazy, but harmless…we think.” Steve chuckled; Y/N heard the sigh of relief from Steve when he finally got the key in the door and pushed the door open.

Pushing the door ajar, Steve waved his arm, “Ladies first.” allowing Y/N to walk in first, she nodded her head graciously, stepping through the door.

Y/N glanced round the apartment, it still smelled slightly of the cleaning products Steve had used to scrub the floors, and surfaces. It was clean, but looked homely, a few mugs had been left on the coffee table, and a couple of items of clothing strewn over the couch.

“Those bastards.” Y/N heard Steve curse, as he rushed to the couch after closing the door, picking up the items, and throwing them into a random room, before going over to the coffee table, grabbing the mugs, clinking together as he threw them in the kitchen sink.

“Told them to keep it clean for you, but what can I say, after a long day of being sanitary, us doctors like to be a bit sloppy.” Steve scratched the back of his neck, as he stood awkwardly in the centre of the room.

“It’s okay, I understand. It’s lovely.” She smiled, and an awkward silence fell upon them both.

“So...er where will I sleep?” Y/N picked at her fingernails, as she rocked on the balls of her feet, Steve’s eyes circling around the room.

“You’re going to have my room, that’s the only room that I could be sure would stay clean,” he laughed, and Y/N tilted her head.

“Where are you going to sleep?”

“On the couch.” Steve said simply.

Y/N’s bugged out of her head, and more feelings of guilt seeped into her mind.

“No, no, no I can’t just take your bed, that’s just so-“

“Hey, it’s fine, I don’t mind, the couch is quite comfortable.” Steve insisted, but Y/N still couldn’t help the feelings of guilt that she had.

“But this is your house, I’m the guest-”

“That is still in recovery. Honestly, sweetheart, it’s fine.” The warm smile didn’t do much to the sorry feeling sitting in Y/N’s stomach, but Steve quickly moved on, asking her if she’d like a drink.

The two sat on the couch and chatted for a couple of hours, before they were interrupted by the sound of Steve’s phone ringing.

“It’s Sam.” Steve confirmed, sliding the button and lifting the phone to his ear.

Y/N sat back, continuing to sip her glass of water, and began fiddling with the end of her NG tube. Whilst Steve spoke to Sam, he reached over to pull her fingers away, holding her hand in his own, which she gladly accepted.

“…yeah, I’m with her now…I’m not sure, I’m trying to get her settled...” Y/N’s attention was drawn to Steve, and she quirked an eyebrow.

“What’s he saying?” Y/N whispered, Steve turning to face her with a look of pity that made Y/N a little frustrated.

“…hang on a sec…” Steve held the phone away from his mouth so Sam couldn’t hear their conversation, “Sam’s asking if you can meet Shuri today, but I don’t think you’re well enough yet.”

“Surely I should be the one to decide that.” Y/N sassed, taking her hand from Steve and folding her arms.

“Well as a doctor, I think you should have at least today to settle in, take some time.” Steve explained.

“Sometimes I think you’re obsessed with taking time.” Y/N jutted her brows.

“So, you think you’re ready to talk to her?”

“I don’t think I’ll ever be ready to face this, but I need to do this, if I’m going to be free.” Y/N spoke seriously, and Steve once again gave her the ever so slightly infuriating look of sympathy and pity.

“Okay.” Steve sighed.

“Yo…hello, you still there Steve?” a small voice shouted through Steve’s phone.

“Yeah, I’m still here. She says she wants to talk, but tell Shuri she needs to come here, I don’t want Y/N travelling around too much.” Y/N rolled her eyes, but she, herself excepted Steve’s options; she was feeling quite tired, and the thought of being out in public with her tube, made her self-conscious.

“Okay see you in 20…bye Sam.” Steve ended the call, sliding his phone onto the coffee table, and leaning back on the couch.

“If you start to feel tired or upset at any point, I want you to tell me straight away, sweetheart.” Steve persisted, making Y/N huff.

“Yes, Doctor Rogers.” She chided sipping her water, with attitude.

“You know I just want to protect you,” Steve said.

“I know, and I’m grateful.” Y/N cupped the side of Steve’s face, and gave him a reassuring smile.

“Well, just remember that gratefulness, because you’re not going to like me in a few seconds.” Steve said, glancing at his watch.

“Why?” Y/N tilted her head, unsure of where the doctor was going with this.

“It’s tube time.” Y/N groaned and slumped back on the couch, turning away from Steve, curling up into a ball.

She tensed a little when she felt Steve’s hand go to her back unexpectedly but leaned into it when he started to rub her back.

“I’ll be gentle, sweetheart.” Steve promised getting up from the couch, heading to the bag by the door with Y/N’s feed in.

“I prefer it when Bucky does it.” Y/N mumbled but made sure it was loud enough for him to hear.

Steve stood up straight, spinning round with a look of mock hurt, as he gripped the bag of feed in his hands.

“That hurt, like really hurt.” Steve put his hand on his chest, feigning a pain in his heart.

Y/N just shrugged, facing away from Steve, and burying her head into the pillow like a child, hoping the longer she stayed there, the faster Steve would give up trying to feed her.

“Just for that, sweetheart, I’m not going to be gentle.” Steve joked, and Y/N shooting up on the couch, and sending a harsh glare at Steve.

“You monster.” Y/N she spoke in a hush voice, and Steve smirked at her.

“Shush, and put your butt on the couch, and get your tube out.” Steve said as he snapped his pair of blue latex gloves on his hands.

“Is that an innuendo?” Y/N giggled, wiggling her eyebrows.

~~~~

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Y/L/N.” Shuri extended her hand, which Y/N shook timidly, Steve ushering her and Sam into the apartment.

“I’m honoured that you’re willing to represent me, but I’ll have to tell you now, that I can’t afford your fees, I don’t have any money.” Y/N blurted, before the two had even sat down.

“You don’t need to worry about that, Miss Y/L/N, all of your legal fees will be covered by my brother, you won’t have to spend a dime.” Shuri promised, and Y/N sank into the kitchen chair next to Steve, a wave of relief washing over her.

Steve grabbed Y/N’s hand that had begun to clam up, giving it a small squeeze.

“Thank you so much, to you and your brother, honestly, that’s a huge weight off my chest.” Y/N lent onto Steve’s shoulder and she felt his lips brush her hairline. Sam quirked an eyebrow, but kept quiet.

“Happy to help, Miss Y/L/N.” Shuri smiled.  

“Please call me, Y/N.” Shuri nodded, still beaming, Y/N returning her friendly gestures.

“Now let’s begin with a basic outline,” Shuri pulled some papers from her briefcase, and pushed them towards Y/N, “these papers contain a basic plan of action that we’re going to take, in bringing down Mr Rumlow.”

Y/N shivered at his name, but leant over the table, her eyes scanning through the papers in front of her.

“There have been many accusations made against Mr Rumlow over the years that he’s been working for S.H.I.E.L.D Legal Firm, ranging from: Aiding and Abetting, an Accessory to criminal activity, conspiracy to commit murder, conspiracy to cover up a murder,” Y/N gulped when Shuri used the ‘M’ word, and squeezed Steve’s hand a little tighter.

“Misdemeanour charges, an attempt or threat to use physical force against another domestic residence, assault and battery, and giving false information to a county court and judge,” Shuri took a deep breath when she finished reading the list in front of her.

“Basically, he’s a terrible guy, and I’m a complete idiot for ever falling for him.” Y/N muttered, reaching for her forearms, only for her hand to be caught mid action by Steve.

“No, Y/N. None of this is your fault.” Steve comforted.

“Rumlow is a master manipulator, Y/N,” Sam assured, “it’s what he does, nobody is blaming you for anything.”

Y/N let out a deep sigh, her chest clenching slightly, as she tried to hold back the tears.

“Y/N, what I need to ask you, is if you knew about any of his previous charges, or his involvement?” Shuri treaded carefully, pulling her laptop from her bag.

“No, I had no idea. I knew that he was a big shot lawyer, for some big shot companies, but I never really knew about his clients, we didn’t really discuss his work, when we were home...” Y/N trailed off, and pushed her head into Steve’s shoulder, hoping by applying pressure to his arm and her forehead, she could suppress the memories that were threatening to cloud her mind.

“Okay, that’s good. I just had to check, so I knew that he couldn’t use that against you, when we go to trial.” Shuri gently replied, typing into her laptop.

Steve’s hand went under Y/N’s chin, slowly lifting it up so she was looking at him. Y/N could tell by his eyes, he was asking how she was, and she just gave him a slow blink, which was enough reassurance for him, letting her chin go.

“The new charges that we will be bringing against him, which will come from your personal case, read as followed; Abuse of trust and power, assault and battery, coercive control, harassment and sexual assault.”

Y/N nodded along to the list, twisting the fabric of her t-shirt between her fingers, her toes curling when Shuri read out the sexual assault charge.

“Does this sound in order, Y/N.” Shuri’s tone was as soothing as she could make it, considering the topic of conversation, and Y/N was grateful for her attempt.

“Yes.” Y/N whispered, not trusting her voice to crack if she said it any louder.

“Okay. So the evidence that we’ve gathered from your previous hospital records, and the statements you’ve made to Captain Wilson, about the incident that occurred a few weeks ago, in your home; that will be sound enough to present to the jury on the grounds of the physical and coercive abuse charges. However, the charge of sexual assault, may be difficult to uphold, as you were not marked in the incident that happened last week.” Y/N’s heart plummeted to her stomach, her head snapping up at Shuri, who wore a sad look on her face.

“Wwhat?” Y/N mumbled out.

“I’m sorry, Y/N, we will try to press that charge, but in this case it will be your words against his, as he didn’t leave you with any physical evidence.” Shuri explained.

“He got me pregnant, is that physical enough for you!” Y/N exclaimed, before she had time to think. The moment the words fell from her tongue, she didn’t know what to do or where to look.

“What do you mean, sweetheart?” Steve’s back had straightened at Y/N’s words, and his heart was hammering in his chest, as he tried to get the young girl to look at him.

“It doesn’t matter.” Y/N dismissed, looking at the ground her hands going to her arms and pulling on the skin, making it glow red.

“It does matter, sweetheart,” Steve once again was pulling her hands away, “look at me, darling, please.”

Y/N turned further away, wanting to just disappear from this situation entirely.

“I wasn’t aware that you were pregnant, Y/N. Why wasn’t I told?” Shuri turned to Sam, who had a look of shock on his face.

“I didn’t know.” He spoke, stunned.

“Y/N, sweetie, look at me.” Steve was whispering, trying to get Y/N to come back to him, but she wasn’t having it, so he decided to just keep talking, hoping that she was listening.

“Did Brock-make you…do things, that you didn’t want to do?” Steve struggled to articulate his question, unsure how to word such a question.

Y/N snivelled, wiping at her nose with the back of her sleeve, her eyes stinging.

“Y/N, this is really important,” Shuri lent forward on the table, and spoke in a hushed tone; “Did Brock force himself on you, when he got you pregnant?”  

Y/N looked up at the only other woman in the room, her eyes glazed over, her pupils wobbling as her eyes swam with tears. The only thing she could manage was a nod of her head, before completely breaking down.

Steve pulled her into his chest, Y/N struggled for a moment, but Steve held her against his chest, cupping the back of her head, eventually she leant into his grasp, her body shaking with the effort, of sobbing.

“He raped me.” Y/N blubbered into Steve’s shoulder, and it only made Steve tighten his grip as he forced back his own tears. He rubbed his hands up and down her back, applying pressure, so she knew he had her, she knew he wouldn’t let her go.

“It’s okay, it’s okay. I’m here, it’s alright.” Steve cooed in Y/N’s ear, she pushed her face harder into Steve’s chest, her crying only getting louder.

“I think we can finish for today.” Shuri admits, packing her stuff away, but Y/N pulled out of Steve’s chest, and looked at the woman, with blazing eyes.

“No,” she choked, “what does this mean, can you get him?”

“Well…if we can perform a paternity test on the foetus, confirming that it is his, then it can be added as significant evidence, but it’s still not guarantee win.” Shuri spoke honestly, and Y/N’s blood ran cold.

“How soon can a paternity test be done?” Y/N looked at Steve.

“Usually the best result are produced at 10 weeks, you’ve got six more weeks-“

“No,” Y/N interjected, “no, I’m not keeping it that long, I want it gone before then.”

Everyone in the room was shocked by her statement but tried to remain level headed.

“Sweetheart-“

“No. This is my body, and I don’t want him to be a part of it anymore. And if you can’t promise me a guarantee charge for rape, then it’s not worth me keeping it.” Y/N put her foot down.

“I’m getting rid of it, as soon as I can.”

A/N: This may sound really creepy, but I haven't held a baby for like a year, and I’m a seriously broody person, and that thought just hit me in the feels. Sorry, that’s weird, don’t at me.

Part Ten//

Taglist:

@this-is-a-chilis-drive-thru @cutie1365 @saiyanprincesswanie @pasaaloquepasaa @emma-is-a-nerd @traumschiffe @putinovertime @vibraniumdaisies @brownsugur @speechlessxx​ @winchester-wifey @buckys-forgotten-plum

#steve rogers #steve x reader #steve fic #steve angst #brock rumlow x reader #brock rumlow #marvel fanfiction #marvel movies #dark marvel #dark fic #dark steve fic #domestic abuse #adult themes #doctor!steve #doctor!steve x reader #reader insert

[dynoguard]

Since the Fossil Ghouls got a lengthy post with this information, I feel its only fair for the heroes to get the same.

In the closing days of the Cretacious, the Dinosovian civilization was at its height. Their world came to a screaming end with the arrival of the Monster Meteor Apothis. In an effort to save their people, Professor Rachus of Science Tower One attempted to shift the Dinosovian people into the future to escape the impact.

Something went wrong.

65 million years later, Science Tower One and a handful of Dinosovian survivors appear on the outskirts of Granite Mountain, Colorado, while far above, the injured core of Apothis materializes in orbit. When Apothis’ Fossil Ghouls descend on Earth, the only hope for mankind is the reductant heroes of the DynoGuard.

Roar into the Future! (bios and lore below the fold)

Dracora “Cora” Rex Species: Pachyon (Dracorex) Armor: Trailrazor  DynoPower: Flame Breath Ranger Cora Rex of the DynoGuard Parks and Wildlife division wasn’t ready for any of this. She was just dropping off her daughter at a summer internship when the world ended, leaving her the highest ranking (and only) government official of her people. Practical, longsuffering and tough, Cora is the common sense glue that holds the new DynoGuard together. Hopeless with technology and baffled by science, but has a natural affinity for animals and, against her better judgement, a knack for heroism.

Brach Longstride Species: Podite (Brachiosaurus) Armor: Slammerhead  DynoPower: Size Increase  Easygoing and literally tons of fun, Brach (Brachiosaurus) walks a fine line between exuberance and self-control. He’s a big, lovable mechanic and handyman who keeps everything from food dispensers to DynoGuard vehicles humming. If there’s a fight to break up or tensions to ease, Brach’s your dino. He loves hamburgers (his favorite human invention), fixing things, and explosions. 

Zara Hurlant Species: Pachyon (Parasaurolophus) Armor: Echo Chamber  DynoPower: Hypersonic Scream The protégé of Science Tower One’s head researcher Professor Rachus, Zara  is an expert in theoretical physics and the Time Slip device. Zara blames herself for the botched time jump and for bringing Apothis with them. Her guilt manifests as a short temper and sarcastic attitude. She’s capable of amazing acts of kindness and heroism, but she holds herself at arms length from others. She resents humans for inheriting the world. She tolerates Jason, but holds Gloria in suspicion and contempt.

Kyle Stowne Species: Thyrene (Ankylosaurus) Armor: Hazmaxx  DynoPower: Metal Form  Kyle Stowne rolls with life’s punches as best he can, typically by focusing on some problem to solve. A brilliant young engineer and chemist, Kyle was at the edge of the Time Slip and lost his left arm and several horns to the void. He wears (and endlessly tinkers with) a prosthetic arm of his own design. He has a sharp analytical mind with a “light the fuse and run” approach to science. He is obsessed with finding the science behind the Fossil Ghouls’ “so-called magic.” He focuses on his work to the point of ignoring food, sleep and hygiene. 

Linhera “Linn” Rex Species: Dromeon (velociraptor) Armor: Fighterflight  DynoPower: Cloaking Camoflage Curious, excitable and impulsive, Linn finds adapting to modern life easier than the others. She becomes fast friends with Jason James and loves human culture despite not quite “getting” it. She unabashedly adores action movies, pop music, young adult novels, hyperactive video games, and cute animals both real and animated. Her exuberance helps her cope with the loss of her father and friends, whom she misses greatly.

Jason James Species: Human Equipment: DynoSphere vehicle/battle armor, Podite Multi-Tool Jason met the DynoGuard when his father, Sagan James, moved to Granite Mountain to work for Gloria Anning. He is Linn’s best friend and the first human to become a DynoGuard cadet. Like most boys his age, Jason loves gadgets, video games and goofing off. But his burning passion is cryptozoology, the unsolved, and the unexplained. Now that monsters are real and talking dinosaurs walk the Earth, this minor rebellion against his scientist parents is a useful skill set. Kentra Thagomizer and Tyrannocopter Species: Kentra is a Thyrene (stegosaurus), Tyranncopter is a Tyrannocopter.  Armor: Motosaurus  DynoPower: Energy Spikes/Plates  Kentra and Tyrannocpter did not return with Science Tower One. The only thing certain about their background is none of what they’ve provided is true. Kentra has a smarmy, roguish demeanor and a love of profit and schemes. Tyrannocopter’s artificial intellignece isn’t any better, but at leas the’s more charming.  Dr. Cerebrotops Species: Cerosoid (diabloceratops) Armor: Peer Review  DynoPower: Telepathy, Telekinesis Mutated by genetic experiments he performed on himself, Dr. Cerebrotops (Diabloceratops) is a telepathic mad scientist and the first Dinosovian Cora’s team encounters after arriving on modern Earth. 

Dr. Cerebrotops values intelligence beyond all else, specifically his own. He’s an arrogant egomaniac who defends his positions by invoking the size of his brains, and considers himself shackled by the ignorance of other creatures. His Aegis Armor is a custom suit called Peer Review, which summons Meddy and Cort, a pair of additional cloned brians he uses as assistants. Meddy is optimistic and scatterbrained while Cort is pessimistic and anxious.

Gloria Anning Species: Human Billionaire Tech Mogul  Owner of Anningtech and the Observatory where Science Tower One rematerialized (as well as most of the surrounding town of Granite Mountain, Colorado), Gloria Anning stands at the center of everything. The DynoGuard’s patron and most powerful human ally, Gloria funds and defends her time-lost charges from the threats that armor, claws and fangs cannot match: fighting for them in court and in the media.

Gloria’s driven, quirky personality and generosity hide a larger agenda. On the surface she works to forge peace between the Dinosovians and humanity as her chance at a place in history. In secret, she seeks to unlock the secrets of the DynoGuard’s technology, particularly that of the DynoBond, to ensure that place. She claims her plans and schemes are in the best interests of her new friends, but can the DynoGuard trust her… and if not, is there anything they can do about it?

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Allegiences & Relationships

As heroes, the DynoGuard get a long better than the Fossil Ghouls, however, they each have their own unique relationships to one another.

Cora sees herself as the ‘mother’ of the team, and as the lone member with sense. She’s probably not wrong in either case. She sees Brach as a fellow adult, if just barely, and frequently clashes with Zara over everything from trusting the humans, to battle strategy, to chore rotation. Her strongest loyalty is to her daughter, Linn.

Brach is the ‘fun uncle’ of the team. He has a troubled past and sees a lot of himself in Zara, but his attempts to reach out usually anony her. Brach neither trusts nor likes Dr. Cerebrotops. 

Zara clashes with Cora over leadership decisions. She is fond of Linn because they were both hand-picked by Professor Rachus, and she’s fond of Kyle even if they fight like siblings. She does not trust Gloria, or most humans, a prejudice that leaves her open to Dr. Cerebrotops’ influrence.

Kyle wants everyone on the team to get along. He likes his fellow dinosovians, and the humans, even when they’re being baffling. He fills the mentor/big brother role for Linn and a rival sibling role for Zara. 

Linn has a strong relationship with her mother, despite rebelling as most dinos of her age do. She and Jason are best freinds, and she quickly adapts to seeing the DynoGuard as a second family.

Kentra is loyal to herself and Tyrannocopter, in that order. While she would gladly steal from or swindle her fellow dinos, her conscience will always drive her to show up when survival is on the line. She avoids Dr. Cerebrotops as telepathy, as a concept, makes her uncomfortable. Tyrannocopter’s loyalties are to Kentra nd to any other fully intelligent Dinosovian AI that he encounters. His distaste for seeing other creatures exploited occasionally is strong enough to override his self-interest.

Dr. Cerebrotops has a misanthrope’s view of most beings. He respects Zara’s skill as a scientist and sees her as a possible ally against humanity, which he sees as a threat that must be removed or defanged before the rest of Dinosovian civilization exists the time slip. He sees Kyle as a promising student hwo isn’t living up to his potential and only really cares about Linn or Brach if he can impress them with his intellect or power.

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Character Vices

While each Fossil Ghoul had a virtue, each Dino/Ally has a vice.

Cora is stubborn. She adapts poorly to technology, has a difficult time backing down from plans and has a hard time admitting she’s wrong, particularly to Zara. 

Brach is afraid of his own power/success. He fears the destructive capability of his own DynoPower and underachieved professionally despite being a mechanical genius. 

Zara is filled with anger. She was always short-tempered, but losing her people, her father figure, and her world in one day has exaggerated this. In addition to makin gher a classic ‘hothead’ this also manifests as mistrust of humans, something she struggles with through for some time.

Kyle is obsessive. Kyle has difficulty moderating his interests, in both the day-to-day sense and the big picture sense. Once something grabs him it is difficult if not impossible for him to let go.

Linn is impulsive. Linn isn’t as mature as she believes herself to be and is prone to acting on impulse. She makes poor choices when it comes to proving herself or rebelling against percieved overprotectiveness by her mother other the other Dinos.

Jason is vulnerable to peer pressure. He wants to be popular and well liked, and can be goaded into going against his better judgement if he thinks he can impress others, particularly kids his own age or slightly older. 

Kentra and Tyrannocopter are self-serving and dishonest, but they have  their virtues as well, Kentra has a sense of honor and draws the line at hurting the innocent with her scemes (with flexible definitions of ‘hurt’ and ‘innocent’.) Tyrannocopter dislikes seeing other creatures exploited and sometimes cannot be dissauded from “getting political” by Kentra. Dr. Cerebrotops is not a good person, but even he has a soft spot. Dr. Cerebrotops is a momma’s egg and respects mothers. He may not be friendly to them, but he withholds his insults, sarcasm and condescention when dealing with moms and other female caregivers, even human ones. 

Gloria is possessed of a certainty bordering on megalomania.  She does what she feels is best for anyone, and does not feel the need to include those people in the discussion. The fact that she is very often right makes

No one, including Gloria, can tell if Gloria is doing the right thing for the wrong reasons, or the wrong thing for the right one.

#dynoguard #paleoart #dinosaurs #my ocs #character bios #character design