#help and all that but like. you can and should do that without killing her!

[whoblewboobear]

I’m gonna take Kipperlilly from some of yall 👀 you can like a villain without trying to clear their name. She objectively is a murderer and a villain this season. It does not make you a “””””bad Person””””” if you like her. You do not have to try and age her down or make her out to be innocent or gentle or sweet or misunderstood. You do not get to use her mental health to excuse her actions either.

At this point, a lot of these post are getting into slippery slope territory, especially concerning mental health. You can be mentally ill and still understand right from wrong. Infantilizing people struggling with their mental health can cause harm. There are mentally ill people that can/will/do go their entire lives without blaming and trying to harm others because of what they’re going through.

Like I feel like we’ve officially hit Joaquin Phoenix Joker levels of ‘we live in a society’ discourse. Yes, there are things that suck and living with mental health issues and having that make your life harder sucks. But then funneling that feeling of unfairness and frustration into harming other people is not okay or justifiable. It’s a clear sign that someone went untreated or their mental health was not taken seriously enough soon enough.

There are a lot of young and impressionable people in the d20 community (a community that is overwhelmingly very supportive and cognizant of mental health) that will see the KLCK discourse and take some of these things to heart. Please be mindful in what you post. She is a fictional character and in context of the story, instead of getting further help or seeking better treatment for her mental health, she chose to harm people. Some responsibility does fall on her in that regard. Not all, but some. There is a point where things get very concerning when you become a danger to yourself or others, Kipperlilly is in that place to be very clear. She needs help.

Yes she is underage, and I do think Jawbone has a heavy responsibility to either reach out to her parents to report her behavior and figure out a treatment plan for her immediately. This never happened, even when she admitted to wanting to kill Kristen. She continued on, untreated and without her rage issues not being fully addressed. Then she murdered someone.

Infantilizing Kipperlilly to absolve her of her wrongdoing isn’t the convo we should be having. Figuring out where she falls on the morality scale does nothing, she’s one of the villains of the season, by that metric, she’s not a great person (not because of her rage disorder, because of her actions.) There are complexities to her. The conversation we should be having is why not a single faculty member or adult that interacted with her and witnessed this behavior didn’t say “woah hey, let’s pump the breaks and get you assessed for a few things and get to the root of what’s going wrong.”

When you see someone struggling, reach out, assess the situation. If you’re an adult and are in a position to help, don’t hesitate to do so or notify a parent or guardian in their life so they get them help. If you’re underage and see a peer struggling, check in and if something sticks out to you as concerning, reach out to an adult that can help or find someone to help. Don’t enable violent or harmful behavior. /Please/ that person can end up hurting themselves or someone else.

#I- listen I will go on about mental health all fucking day #it is VERY important to me #I’m not a professional or a doctor #I’m only speaking from personal experience of having family and friends with mental health issues as well as dealing with my own since I #was 12 years old #I’m now 24 and I have been consistently in therapy the entire time thankfully #initially because my mom and sister saw what I was going through and got me help and then Into my teen years to present day I continued to #seek treatment #it is dangerous to enable behavior like Kipperlilly’s #it is deeply irresponsible as well #like no she’s not real but the kids in the fandom are #dimension 20 #fantasy high junior year #d20 fhjy #fhjy

[blacklegsanjiii]

Can you imagine if the Vinsmokes gained their emotions back when Sanji saves their lives at WCI, but it kinda hits them all at once, so they become massively attached to Sanji.

21+ years of familial love for their brother smacks them in the face, only for them to find out Sanji has REALLY over protective boyfriends in ASL who monopolize Sanji all the time (this can be the gods au or just regular ASL+S)

Gods can you imagine the guilt? Not only just all that love but the guilt, shame, embarrassment, and horror at what they've done. Reiju just watching them and Ichiji asking her why she never stopped them, how often she helped Sanji after what they did? He needs to know and the answers 'i didn't want the attention ' and 'not enough' rip through his chest like niji's lightning.

Sanji's gone, with his crew and they've only just escaped Big Mom's pirates and her prison and everything so they're not exactly primed for the real world. But without Germa and being free means they need to find their own way. So uhh, they guess first things they'll go find Zeff and thank him? And they do. Zeff and everyone is confused about the apology/thanks combo they're getting. Especially because it revolves around Sanji and Germa. Zeff is ready to kill them all but Patty says they can work for their forgiveness and puts them in the dishpit.

It's good for them, they're working through a lot of things and Zeff keeps making them push back against him verbally. They're...healing, but they need more but at least they're also developing some skills that can help them in their pursuit. Over time, maybe about a year ish later they decide to find Sanji. To go apologize, they won't ask for forgiveness, it's not something they deserve but he needs to their regret, their sorrow, their change. For them to be like him like their mother wanted. Maybe their skin is no longer metal, still extremely durable but they can be bleed.

Following the Strawhats is a challenge and Zeff warned them about it though. He gives them his lot of the Grand Line, a log post, and demands letters. They agree as Reiju stays with Zeff. As they set sail Zeff tells them to not be afraid of Sanji's boyfriends, they'll understand eventually! Which makes Niji ask the hell that means to no response. It takes a few months but they're doing fine. Mostly.

The New World is a bigger challenge than they expected but when they catch up the crew is fighting Marines and it's all an out assault from both sides. Ichiji says they should attack the Marines so they do with their powers and uhhh, is that a guy with three swords coming after them? Oh shit it's that Roronoa Zoro guy! Fuck!

Yonji is trying to calm him down while evading him. Ichiji and Niji are still focusing on actually fighting the Marines who start to retreat and the fire dives down so Luffy snaps onto their ship with a rubbery twang and pure anger and Nami, the hot chick they remember is there on a cloud. Right. Okay. They can do this!

"You broke the agreement so we're going to sink your ship!" Luffy yells at them in warning.

"We want to to apologize to Sanji." Ichiji says evenly.

"I'll see if he even wants to talk to you after what happened." Nami growls as the cloud takes her back. They get a signal to meet at the ship. Not to board, so it's kind of awkward with the height differences between the ships. Luffy and Zoro jump up onto their ship as Luffy slings an arm around Sanji with a cowboy guy who is glaring viciously at them.

"Speak your piece and get the fuck away!" Sanji yells at them.

"Were sorry! We are not owed forgiveness for anything!" Yonji starts.

"That's not an apology." The cowboy says.

"Oh, Sabo's going suuuper to love this." The robot says.

"Ah, do you want us to say? We don't know what you told them and don't want to cause more problems." Ichiji asks.

"Start with the cuffs." Luffy demands.

"Cuffs?" A few voices ask.

"Sorry we let Judge put those on you!" Ichiji says with a wince.

"Sorry for our childhoods!" Niji yells. "And electrocuting you with that plate in your back, especially. And calling you a failure after you got shot."

"Wait-" Zoro tries.

"Sorry about the dungeon?" Yonji tries which flummoxes the rest of the crew except Sanji.

"Oh my God they're going to die." Nami says.

"Zeff says you should write more, he's kind of been doing the whole push back thing he did with you? Reiju's still there." Ichiji says.

"Alright, I'll write to the fucking geezer but if I see any of you before I come back to Baratie I'm not who you have to worry about." Sanji threatens.

"Just one?" Luffy asks.

"Nah, let Sabo deal with them." Cowboy says. "Zeff is more likely to forgive him."

"Doubt that, lets get the fuck outta here, I need to start lunch." Sanji says walking away from the railing. With the crew chattering after him. When the brothers get home a few months later there's a blond guy talking with Reiju and Zeff and smiling politely with another orange haired girl beside him.

"Don't threaten them too much." Zeff warns.

"I would never sully this fine established like that." The blond says with mock offense.

"Don't sully it with blood either." Zeff stresses.

"Of course not! I'll do it elsewhere and no one will know." The blond smiles at the chef. "Bye guys!" He chirps, grabbing a pipe from the floor and leaves with the other girl who mimics slitting her throat at them with a smile as she skips out the door.

#black leg sanji #monkey d. luffy #roronoa zoro #portgas d ace #vinsmoke sanji #revolutionary sabo #cat burglar nami #answers #acesan #sanace #lusan #sanlu #sabosan #asl+s #they all date!sanji

[just-some-random-girl]

Look, I can understand where people are coming from when they criticize the portryal of the female characters in Helluva Boss.

But extending that same criticism to Hazbin Hotel is where I draw the fucking line.

Hazbin literally has a female protagonist with her own independant goal, who has to work hard for it because people constantly belittle her ideas and beliefs, and eventually gets proven right when it works in the end. Charlie tried to do what was thought impossible, and accomplished it when Sir Pentious gets ascended to heaven. Her love interest has her own backstory before meeting Charlie, where she used to work for the same exorcists who are responsible for nearly driving Charlie's people to extinction and almost making her fail to redeem anyone at the hotel. Vaggie kept this a secret from Charlie since they met, and Charlie feels betrayed by Vaggie to the point of not feeling like she should trust her anymore until it gets resolved. Vaggie has more characterizarion in season 1 of Hazbin alone than Millie does in the entirety of Helluva Boss pre-Hell's Belle's.

Lute is one of the main antagonists. She contributed just as much to the genocide as Adam did, is openly bigoted like Adam, has more common sense than Adam, is the only exorcist with a name, is just as much of a threat to the hotel as Adam is and most of all she survives while he doesn't. Sera approved of the genocide, but felt guilty about it because Adam would've probably killed her or something, which Emily calls her out on regardless. Speaking of Emily, she joins Charlie in on calling heaven out for their hypocrisy and literally says she detests being treated like a child.

Velvette is no less evil than the other two Vees. She sells love potions (aka date rape drugs) and treats her employees cruelly just like they do. She also disrepected the other overlords without giving two shits. Carmilla wasn't having any of Velvette's BS, is protective of Zestial, literally killed an exorcist (despite angels being much more powerful than demons, so that's pretty impressive on it's own) to protect her daughters and figured out that Vaggie was a fallen angel just by knowing what her choice of weapon was. She encouraged Vaggie to fight for the whole hotel, not just for Charlie. Cherri Bomb has an interesting rivalry with Sir Pentious in the pilot that eventually grows into a healthy relationship, and she goes against Valentino just to help and comfort Angel Dust in the Addict music video. Sadly she doesn't do much after that, but at least she got to participate in fighting for the hotel in The Show Must Go On, so it's better than nothing I suppose.

Rosie is one of the few people who Alastor has a genuine friendship with. She played a big part in Charlie trying to give a speech to Cannibal Town, and encouraged her to trust Vaggie again. Mimzy, while I dislike her, is the whole reason why the plot of Dad Beat Dad even happened. She tried to use her friendship with Alastor to get herself out of trouble, so the episode techically wouldn't of happened without her. It's also telling that Alastor didn't eat her or try to kill her for screwing things up, since he's done just that to others for much less. Even Niffty, who's mostly just there for comic relief, is another character who Alastor gets along with. He may own her soul, but he's a lot nicer to her than he is to Husk, who he keeps on a chain and abuses in a not-so-different way that Valentino does to Angel Dust, only without SA involved. Niffty is also the one who kills Adam in the end, so there you go.

That's a BUNCH more than what can be said for most of the ladies in Helluva. (Most of whom I also like, but their writing really does leave something to be desired, though it does seem to be slightly improving with the Hell's Belles short and the promise of a Millie focused episode in Ghostfuckers.) For the record I don't think the writing for the female characters in HH is perfect by any means, but it's a far cry from being anywhere near as bad as HB like many antis claim it is. I think they just say that shit because HB takes place in the same universe as Hazbin and both shows were created by the same person, (aka the guilt by association fallacy) or they just think Vivzie can't do anything right no matter what she does.

#hazbin hotel #charlie morningstar #vaggie #hazbin lute #sera hazbin hotel #emily hazbin hotel #hazbin velvette #carmilla carmine #hazbin hotel rosie #hazbin mimzy #niffty #cherri bomb #helluva boss #bad takes #guilt by association

[iydkmigthtkygimmethat]

IYDKMIGTHTKY (Gimme That) is literally Andre and Cal

long ass yap session undercut + i'm kinda stupid and bad at writing

"You sure you really wanna do this?"

Andre hesitates to pull the trigger as Cal convinces him to do it.

It's been doing some thinking It felt fair that she should know All actions in which partake Are far beyond its control Whether it was born or bred (Genetic, environment) I wouldn't bother to ask it why Simply concentrate on when, when

"It" here is Cal, while Andre is "she". "I've been doing some thinking, it felt fair that Andre should know all actions in which partake are far beyond my control" Cal's point of view, dealing with depression and being suicidal.

Cal says "I don't know if Andre knows this, But I'm coming out in a black plastic bag."(paraphrasing here). Basically saying that he wouldn't run away with Andre and he's planned to kill himself there no matter what. In this way their relationship is one-sided. Andre is willing to kill himself for Cal but He wouldn't LIVE for Andre.

"Whether he was born or bred" is Cal himself, born or made depressed later in his life. He views himself as fucked up, Born depressed, and born to die young.

"Genetic, Environment" obviously being genetic mental illness or his environment made him this way.

"I wouldn't bother to ask him why. Simply concentrate on when, when." No one asked Cal if he was alright, No one saw the signs of him being suicidal and fucked up. No one asked him why.

"Concentrate on when." is him fixating on Zero Day. When he can finally take his life. With or without Andre.

It lies awake, yes, quite obsessed Making plans but it won't tell So longs to hear her final words: "I brought this on myself" The theory of futility Now you'll learn, so be prepared Enemies are equal to Wrath times the speed of fright squared

"he lays awake, yes, quite obsessed." Cal obsessing over Zero Day. Wondering if Andre will do it with him despite his plans to run away. if Andre would run away without him.

"Making plans but he won't tell." His plans to end his life after Zero Day.

"So longs to hear his final words: "I brought this on myself"." Cal wants to hear Andre realizing that they could never get out of there alive.

"I brought this on myself." would be Andre realizing that his disappointment was by himself. He should've never expected that they could run away Zero Day.

"The theory of futility. Now you'll learn, so be prepared" The 'theory' is Zero Day. After the attack, Cal is fulfilled and is ready to die. Now Andre will learn that he will have to die there too, if he's ready or not.

"Enemies are equal to wrath times the speed of fright squared" on god I have NO idea what this line means but I'm taking it as it means nothing. The 'enemies' are their school/peers which means nothing to them.

If you don't kill me I'm going to have to kill you

I've thought about this line the most and honestly to me, it feels like it's Cal to Andre during their suicide scene. "If we don't kill ourselves here, I will kill myself without you"

There is no way to get Cal to change his mind about this

"I'm going to have to kill you" is him convincing Andre to go through with it and do it with him.

My God helps those who help themselves Of thus, she shan't be ashamed Crawl into line and wait your turn Remember Jesus slaves Department of Probation: "Legally it can't be blamed" Held therefore unaccountable Since it's clinically insane What a shame again"

"My god helps those who help themselves" to them. They ARE god, they 'helped' their peers by going through with their attack.

"Of thus, he shan't be ashamed. Crawl into line and wait your turn." Andre shouldn't be ashamed of killing himself there. It was what was meant to happen, so "Get into line and wait your turn." killing himself after his peers.

"Department of Probation: "Legally it can't be blamed". " They didn't think of the consequences their families would face after their attack.. such as "Andre Kriegman's parents were the focus of a criminal investigation based on the fact that Gerhard Kriegman's firearms were used in the attack and that the alteration of the shotgun and the construction of pipe bombs had occurred in the Kriegman house. Johanne and Gerhard Kriegman were charged with 9 counts of criminal negligence; one for each pipe bomb constructed, and one each for the revolver and shotgun Andre Kriegman obtained from his father. The parents were able to plead to a lesser charge; they did not serve jail time."

"Since it's clinically insane. What a shame again." They never thought of themselves as mentally ill, and they never got the help they needed. If they hadn't gone through with Zero Day Andre could've had a successful life, while Cal would most likely still end his life eventually. "What a shame again".

You must decide We're out of time No place to hide Your choice, not mine

"You must decide, We're out of time," Cal tells Andre that this is where Cal is to die and Andre has to decide if this is when he dies with him.

"No place to hide" Andre will not be able to get away from this, He can't run.

"Your choice, not mine," Cal would think this, but he knows Andre can't go on without him.

Andre and Cal mean so much to me please tell me someone sees my vision

i love them so much and once I realized that they have a one-sided relationship BROKE ME.

Andre KILLED HIMSELF for Cal. But CAL wouldn't LIVE for Andre ☹☹☹

#zero day #andre kriegman #cal gabriel #zero day 2003 #caldre

[cry4tzu]

Can you be my distraction?

Mina x female reader

Synopsis-let me forget him by you becoming my distraction

Warning-smut,mentioned of a man(smh)

A/n-i need more ideas

“ she can’t just cry in her room and hide forever”dahyun said looking towards the hallway, where Mina room is at. “if I see that idiotic ugly rat of a man again I will kill him”

“ I know that we all hate that man but killing him isn’t the option. We can only try to help Mina move on from him.” Jihyo said looking at every one of her members.

“But how would we do it if she clearly doesn’t even want to leave her room , let alone eat.” Sana said.

As they huddled together, debating their options, a thought struck Jeongyeon. She glanced at Mina room , her eyes sparkling with determination. "I know just what to do," a mischievous smile spreading across her face. "We'll take her out tonight. We'll show her that there are plenty of other people out there who would die for a chance with her." The others exchanged skeptical looks, but eventually nodded in agreement. They would give it a try.

As they approached Mina room ,and slightly went in. "Hey, Mina, we thought you could use some fresh air. So we were wondering if you would like to go out for the night. It would get your mind off of jakson." Mina looked up, her eyes red and puffy, but she didn't protest. She allowed them to get her ready and lead her to the club.

-

As they led Mina through the bustling streets, weaving their way past crowds of people, their laughter filling the air. The sound of it seemed to reach Mina's ears as if its from a great distance, and yet she couldn't help but smile in spite of herself. Something about the sound of her friends' laughter was infectious, and before long, a tiny spark of joy began to flicker within her chest.

As they arrived at the club, the members ushered Mina inside, where the music was loud and the lights were bright. Drinks were already waiting for them at their table, and as they sat down, Jeongyeon leaned in close to Mina, her lips brushing against her ear. "Just try to have a good time tonight," her breath warm against Mina's skin. "You deserve it."

Mina nodded, feeling a little more hopeful as she took a sip of her drink. As she sat there, trying to forget about Jakson and enjoy herself, she couldn't help but glance around the club, taking in the sights and sounds. she noticed a group of women sitting at a nearby table, all laughing together. Something about the way they were laughing, so freely and without any restraint, caught Mina's attention. She found herself staring at them, wishing she could feel that way again.

As she watched, one of the woman in particular seemed to catch her eye. Mina couldn't help but feel a spark of interest when their gazes met across the crowded room. She smiled shyly, feeling a flutter in her chest.

"Who's that girl over there who's got Mina all distracted?" Nayeon asked, giggling. "Maybe she should be over there with them instead of moping over that Bigfoot of a man .”dahyun reply going along with the teasing.

Mina blushed, feeling a mixture of embarrassment and curiosity. “ oh come on guys, it’s not like that…” she was going to finish her sentence but a little tap on her shoulder, made her turn around and look at that person.

"Hi, I'm y/n," she said, extending her hand to Mina. "I couldn't help but notice you've been staring. So I thought to come over and say hi." Mina felt a spark of electricity course through her as their hands touched.

"I'm Mina." She managed to get out, her voice sounding a little shaky even to her ears. Jeongyeon and jihyo exchanged amused glances, clearly enjoying the unfolding scene. Y/N smiled reassuringly, their hand still resting on Mina's shoulder.

“ well, nice to meet you Mina”y/n responded with a heartwarming smile.

There was something about the way Y/N said her name that sent a shiver down Mina's spine. They were so confident, so sure of themselves. It was intoxicating. Mina found herself wanting to spend more time with her , to get to know her better.

As they continued to talk, the rest of the club faded away, becoming nothing more than a blur of colors and sounds in the background. The more Mina listened to Y/N, the more she realized how much she had in common with this stranger. They laughed at the same jokes, shared stories about their friends, and even had a few embarrassing moments they could bond over.

“ so you saying, that the reason why you are here is because of your ex boyfriend jakson cheated on you” Y/N said, her voice soft but firm. Mina nodded, feeling a lump forming in her throat. She couldn't believe how much she was opening up to this stranger, but there was something about Y/N that made her feel safe, like she could trust them with anything.

“Well then,he's an idiot," y/n said, her voice laced with sincerity, "to let someone like you slip through his fingers." Mina looked up at Y/N, surprise evident on her face. "I mean, you're beautiful, funny, and smart...why would he even cheat on you in the first place?" She shrugged, taking a sip of her drink.

“ if I was to ever dated you I would never let a beautiful woman like you go.” her cheeks flushing slightly. Mina felt her heart skip a beat. This was the most romantic thing anyone had ever said to her.

Before she could even respond,the music change . One of the girls started to play in the background. This is mina song. She couldn’t help but pull y/n to the dance floor before the girl even process what is happening. Y/n placed her hands on mina's hips and started to move her body with mina's. They danced together perfectly in sync.

The rest of the club seemed to fade away as Mina lost herself in the music and the feeling of Y/N's body against hers. Every touch sent a shiver down her spine, every movement seemed to be choreographed just for the two of them. She couldn’t help but feel so hot and bother by the way y/n touch her . Her touch felt so firm but gentle at the same time. The way her hands touches her body. She couldn’t take it.

She leaned in closer, their bodies flush against each other as their lips met in a passionate kiss. The kiss went from passionate to hunger in a few seconds. To the point Mina wanted more. No, she needed more.

Mina grab y/n hand. Basically dragging her out of the club. And into the taxi that was nearby . She told the taxi driver her house location. They didn't even bother to talk as they made out the whole way there. Once they finally arrived at her house. She lead Y/N to her room and slammed the door shut behind them. Where she slammed their lips together

"Mina..." Y/N panted, her breath coming in short gasps as she broke the kiss.

Mina let out a moan, her hands running through Y/N's hair, tangling in the soft strands. "I need you, Y/N," she whispered, her voice husky. "I need you so bad."

Without another word, she pushed Y/N onto the bed, their bodies tangled together. She felt Y/N's hands fumbling with her shirt, and then with her bra, finally freeing her breasts from their confinement. Mina arched her back, letting out a gasp as Y/N's warm mouth closed around her nipple. She could feel the wetness between her legs, the need growing stronger with each passing second.

Y/N moaned, her tongue dancing against Mina's sensitive skin, and then she sat up, pushing Mina's shirt off her shoulders. She tossed it aside and leaned down again, kissing Mina's neck, sucking gently before moving further down. Mina let out a low growl, her hips bucking off the bed.

As Y/N continued to kiss and nibble her way down Mina's body, she reached out to touch the other girl, tracing her fingers along the soft, smooth skin of her inner thigh. "Please, Y/N," she begged, her voice shaky. "I need you inside me."

Y/N smiled against Mina's thigh, her breath hot against her skin. She reached down, pushing Mina's dress and panties to the side, revealing her wetness. With a swift movement, she guided her fingers inside, feeling the tightness that surrounded her. Mina arched her back, her nails digging into Y/N's shoulders as she was consumed by the sensation.

"Fuck, Mina," Y/N breathed, her voice hoarse. "You're so hot and wet." thrusting her fingers deeper, feeling the heat of Mina's body against her hand. She could feel the muscles in Mina's thighs clench around her fingers, and it only made her want more. She leaned in, taking one of Mina's nipples into her mouth, sucking roughly as she continued to stroke her.

Mina cried out, arching her back off the bed. "Fuck , yes," she moaned. Her hips bucked upward, meeting Y/N's thrusts, desperate for more contact. "I need you to fuck me harder " she whispered, her voice shaking. The feeling of Y/N's fingers inside her, combined with the wet heat of her mouth on her breast, was driving her crazy. She could feel the familiar tightening in her stomach, the building pressure that told her she was close.

"you're so beautiful," Y/N breathed, gazing down at Mina's exposed body. She continued to thrust her fingers in and out of Mina's slick folds, feeling the smooth muscles grip around her. “My beautiful girl” She leaned in, kissing Mina's neck, sucking gently before moving lower to take a nipple into her mouth. She rolled the hard peak between her lips, teasing it with her tongue as she continued to stroke her.

Mina cried out, arching her back off the bed. "Yes, yes, that's it," moaning as her hips bucked upward, meeting Y/N's thrusts, desperate for more contact. She felt herself growing closer, the pressure building inside her.

Y/N looked up at Mina, their eyes meeting, and saw the desire and need in her gaze. She could feel Mina's muscles tensing around her fingers, and she knew she was close too. “Cum for me princess .” With one final thrust, she pushed her fingers deep inside, feeling the tight heat of Mina's body grip her as she came.

Mina cried out, her body shuddering as her own orgasm took hold. Her hips bucked upward, meeting the rhythm of Y/N's thrusts, and she arched her back off the bed, her nails digging into the sheets. As the sensation washed over her, she felt a deep, satisfying release that left her breathless and completely spent.

Y/N watched Mina's face contort in pleasure, her eyes squeezed shut and her lips parted in a silent scream. She could feel Mina's inner muscles clenching and releasing around her fingers, milking her climax. She slowed her movements, pulling her fingers out of Mina's body and kissing her softly.

Mina's breath came in ragged gasps as she tried to catch her bearings. Her body felt like it was still humming from the intensity of the orgasm, and she couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of contentment and closeness to Y/N. She reached up, running her fingers through Y/N's hair, feeling the soft strands against her skin.

Y/N smiled down at Mina, her eyes filled with love and desire. "Are you okay?" she whispered, tracing a finger along Mina's jawline. "Did I go too fast?"

Mina shook her head, her eyes still closed. "No, no, that was perfect," she gasped, her breath coming back to her in ragged gasps. "It was... more than I could have imagined." She opened her eyes, meeting Y/N's gaze once more. There was such tenderness in those eyes, such love and understanding. It made her heart swell.

Y/N smiled, feeling a warmth spread through her chest at Mina's words. She leaned down, kissing Mina's forehead, her cheek, her lips.

"I'm glad you enjoyed it," she whispered, her voice shaking slightly. "I've never felt this close to someone before." She rolled onto her side, facing Mina, and wrapped her arm around her waist, pulling her close. " even though we met a few hours ago. I want to be with you, Mina. I want us to be together."

Mina nestled into the crook of Y/N's arm, feeling the warmth of her body against hers. She sighed contentedly, her cheek resting on Y/N's shoulder. "I want that too," she said softly. "I want to be with you, Y/N."

Y/N felt a wave of relief wash over her. "Then it's settled," she murmured, kissing the top of Mina's head. "We'll figure everything out together. We'll make it work, no matter what."

They lay there in silence for a while, just enjoying each other's warmth and closeness. It felt so right to be here with Mina like this, their bodies entwined, their hearts connected. The air in the room seemed to hum with an electric energy that only they could feel.

Y/N traced gentle circles on Mina's back with her fingertips, feeling the softness of her skin beneath her touch. She wondered what the future might hold for them. They'd have to face some challenges, no doubt about that. But she had a feeling that as long as they were together, they could overcome anything.

She begins to feel her eyes getting heavier. The warmth of Mina's body and the rhythm of her breath lull her into a state of relaxation. As she drifts off to sleep, she was aware of Mina's hand moving up and down her back, soothing and comforting her. It's a gentle, almost hypnotic motion that sends a wave of contentment through her.

-

The sun is beginning to peek through the curtains. The sounds of clicking noises ( from taking pictures) can be heard from the room.

“Look how cute they are” chaeyoung said while showing the others the picture she just took of the new couple.

“Wait I can see Mina left boo..what the fuck Tzuyu why did you do that.” She said while rubbing her head that Tzuyu just hit.

“Stop being so inappropriate you snake”rolling her eyes as she walks away from sana. Smiling, sana follows Tzuyu “ oh come on you know you love me baby.” Which Tzuyu completely ignored her. Bitch this is not a satzu fic gtf

They all laughed at their friends antics before they decided to leave the room before the newly couple wakes up.

“They do know that their loud asses woke us up, right? We were having our moment here...” Mina groaned, burying her face into Y/N's neck as she mumbled her complaint. Y/N chuckled softly, kissing the top of Mina's head.

"It's fine, sweetheart. We've gotten enough rest. Let's go see what they're up to." She yawned, sitting up slowly and pulling the covers with her. Mina followed suit, stretching her arms above her head as she yawned as well.

As they emerged from the bedroom, they were greeted by the sight of their friends sitting in the living room, sipping coffee and chatting. The room was filled with the aroma of freshly brewed coffee, making Y/N's stomach rumble. "Hey, you guys," she said, yawning again. "Care if we join you?"

"Of course!" Chaeyoung answered with a grin. "We were just about to head out, actually. We were just waiting for you two." She gestured to a tray on the coffee table, which held a plate of croissants and coffee . "Breakfast?"

"That would be lovely, thank you," Y/N said, sitting down next to Mina on the couch. "We could really use some coffee." As she spoke, she reached for one of the warm mugs and poured herself a cup, inhaling the rich aroma deeply.

"You two look so cute together," Chaeyoung commented with a smile, nudging Y/N playfully. "I'm so happy for you, Mina." She glanced at Mina, who was currently playing with a loose string on the couch cushion, her cheeks slightly pink.

"Thanks, Chaeyoung," Mina replied, her voice soft and shy. “But if you hurt her I will kill you” momo spoke up making everyone laugh. "I'm just kidding, guys . You two are perfect for each other."

The room grew quiet as everyone took a sip of their coffee, lost in their own thoughts. Y/N glanced over at Mina, admiring the way the morning light made her hair look like liquid gold. She reached out and took Mina's hand in hers, giving it a squeeze. Mina looked up, her eyes meeting Y/N's, and the warmth that spread through her chest was indescribable.

"Well, we should get going," Sana finally said, breaking the silence. "We have a photoshoot today, remember?" The others nodded in agreement, finishing the last of their breakfast.

As their friends began to gather their things, Y/N and Mina exchanged a knowing glance. They knew that they would see each other later that day, but the thought of being apart for even a few hours made their hearts ache just a little bit.

" I'll see you tonight, okay?" Y/N said, giving Mina's hand a squeeze.

"Mmhmm," Mina hummed, already feeling a little bit down. "I can't wait to be with you again." Her voice was soft and longing, making Y/N's heart ache.

The goodbyes were exchanged, hugs and promises to text later were exchanged, and eventually, the apartment was empty once more. Y/N took a deep breath, feeling a mixture of emotions swirling inside her chest. She missed Mina already, but she knew that they'd see each other later. With a determined smile, she made her way into the bedroom, ready to start the day.

#twice #cry4tzu #twice x reader #twice scenarios #twicetzuyu #twice jihyo #twice dahyun #twice tzuyu #twice mina #mina x reader #myoui mina #mina x you #twice Mina x you #minaaaaaa #men dni #kpop x reader #twice sana #twice nayeon #twice chaeyoung #twice jeongyeon

[palukoo]

okay I am interrupting my gonch posting to say. wtf dead to me that was the worst possible ending like. I quite literally could not have come up with an ending that bad what the hell

#my post #look. I am about to get into spoilers here bc I need to express my rage. so just #this is the warning. :/ #the fucking nuclear family ending??? with Ben???? #the way that the only way they built up Jen/Ben was through DIRECT parallels to Judy/Jen while refusing to acknowledge Judy/jen?? #like the fucking. number of scenes they basically copy pasted and then made straight ughhh #I KNEW Judy/jen wasn’t gonna happen I’m not stupid I just thought theyd still be together not Judy being fucking dead jesus fucking Christ #also a baby?? fr?? the only way you can justify jen having a baby to me is if it’s with/for Judy. not. to have a nuclear family with Ben #also just SUCH a disservice to Judy you literally let her resolve nothing just get cancer and die #like I will say it was kind of nice to have her like admit to Jen she had cancer and slowly get a little more comfortable with asking for #help and all that but like. you can and should do that without killing her! #they took my toxic codependent besties and did this?? like I always am like screaming about the ep 9s of s1 and 2 and how good they are and #I don’t even know this ep 9 I mean it’s fine yeah i think it was a good ep I guess with another little confession moment. but that finale! #literally what the fuck was the point of the first two seasons and the show if that’s the end #like it’s about them and their friendship and family not. Ben. oh and retconning him into the back of the car was stupid as hell #I’m sorry like the thing is I’m generally fine if :/ when shows end like. in a way I don’t want them too and I knew that I probs wouldn’t #like. love however it ended I guess? but this was so bad #it literally didn’t serve a single character (like. I’m sorry I’m supposed to believe Jen is just a happy satisfied gf and mother now?) #and it didn’t serve the plot or any themes or anything. I just don’t get how those were the choices they made. and it sucks bc like. #I like the show and the characters this was just really bad. like I could elaborate more but it’s just bad and upsetting #tagged

[derpinette]

one way for a music performer to earn my full respect is if they carry out acts of self mutilation on stage

#that is how you know they are ♯Real about it truly dedicated to their craft & passionate #none of that gay spitting or whatever. start cutting yourself up BOY. or rather #as long as you do the latter the former you can do too without it being just Whatever #this is obviously specific to shock making-mamma-maaaaddd genres of bands/artists in general that i am into #not expecting like IDK france gall to start smashing things on her head to make it bleed. RIP miss gall i really love her music #my all time favorite female artists ( one eastern one western ) are known to just act as ragdolls & Bleeding on stage #& i think that is very based & adds to the experience/atmosphere of everyone involved there #this is sadistic of me ♯SORRY like obviously no one should kill themselves but... >_> ... #i just cannot help but think of the ones not doing it as posing Arse cowards SORRY about it #that one image of the stick figure shoving a gorey image to its stick figure friends Yeah that would be me. #when will i grow out of being an edgelord Probably Never

[widevibratobitch]

.

#im so tired of this lalalalalalalalaa #something is Wrong lol #i really need this therapy on wednesday but guess WHAT im not going. im going to a funeral instead 🤡 #and ill be singing in that stupid fucking church because have to but i dont fucking wanna i hate doing it and i hate churches #all i feel rn is the overwhelming urge to selfdestruct and like obv im not gonna kms now #but im so fucking angry that im not even *allowed* to do that anymore. like it was such a comfort all this time to know that i can just Quit #and now i cant because guess what someone has to take care of my mother 🫠 and im so fucking tired of being someone people depend on #to handle THEIR feelings and THEIR emotions and just take it all with humility and acceptance and kindness and never snap and bite back #like i dont WANNA hear about your dead husband i dont wanna hear about your stupid fucking boyfriend #i dont wanna hear about the new guy/girl who's hitting on you because you're so hot and perfect #i dont wanna be responsible for how people feel. i should just shut up and take it and be humble and never ask or expect anything back #but when is it MY turn to call at 1 am crying about how im tired and want to kms #or to start expecting shit of people and allow myself to get properly angry at them for not meeting those expectations #or to braggingly 'complain' about something the other person clearly lacks without any consideration for their feelings #or to just openly cry and say deeply personal shit without any filter not caring if that other person is clearly uncomfortable af #because *i* need it right now and i need someone to listen and let them worry about how to even respond to that stuff #im just so tired of people expecting shit of me im tired of being made responsible even tho i clearly cannot handle that responsibility #i wanna be mean i wanna snap and get angry and openly say that i dont give a shit and am tired and cant listen to this rn #but i cant because i have to be a motherfucking mother theresa and never dare to demand something for myself #and idk where that comes from. idk if it's coming from the fanatic catholicism of my childhood or my mother or just from myself and idc #i just feel so horrible and guilty and wrong for wanting anything for myself #and it once again feels like im making myself the victim and the tortured martyr here when i should just shut up and take it #i just wanna lie down and die and not care about who'll get angry or judge or blame me for it im tired and i dont know what to do #i want someone to take care of ME and reassure ME and make ME feel like i matter and that they really will help me if i ever need it #and that they'd be kinda sad if i were gone not because i had a role to fulfill that i failed at by killing myself but because i am a person #<- math calculations flying around my head as i come to the terrible realisation #of just why exactly im so deeply obsessed with my voice teacher (aside from her being literally the most beautiful woman alive lol) 🤡 #like babygirl stop being so utterly overwhelmingly kind to me my knees are weak i would do anything for you queen and I MEAN IT

[swordmaid]

am getting a lot of character inspo for shri’iia from amy gone girl. I don’t think she’s as smart nor calculated but she is similar to some degree in that she’s hyper aware of the current persona she’s presenting and how she’s appealing to the people. the masks and the mjndgames, that’s basically how shri’iia operated while she was still serving under her matriarch in menzoberranzan. she needed to play the roles the matriarch required of her and it was only when she was with her matriarch that she can be ‘Real Shri’iia’, and that’s how I imagined shri’iia to be esp in act 1 when she is so new and scared in the surface. she needed to work out who these people are (her companions) and what they liked, so her first persona - her blank one - the charming helpful paladin who got tadpoled and wants to go back home just like the rest of them (which was half true). she didn’t really argue and she generally agreed to what the group wanted. she was helpful and co-operative, ask her about her past and she will tell you something bland and generic- interesting enough to be ooh-ing about but not too interesting that they’ll delve deeper into it. then, when she got to know them a little more, she started crafting little personas adjacent to her first one ; she’s the girl who’s curious about magic but never had the chance to learn with gale, she’s a cool girl who likes mischief as debauchery with astarion, she’s the one who likes to take risks and live in the moment with karlach, the knight in silver armor who’s willing to help the tieflings with wyll, a disciplined fighter with lae’zel, someone who understands the depths of devotion with shadowheart - but none are really her, not really. ofc her own personality might slip in here and there but for the most part she’s appealing to them and what they’d like her to be but none of it is really genuine. shri’iia just needs to be on their good side to minimise the chances of them turning on her, and if they let her guard down it’ll be easier for her to get rid of them should the need arise. taking up all these different masks, collecting all these intel abt them to be used for later, slithering and making a place in their minds - it’s really how she operated back in menzoberranzan. I think the only one who catches on to her game is astarion but that’s bc he’s doing the same thing too, so it’s very game recognises game lmfao

it’s only when she breaks her oath and goes through her existential crisis that all of her masks drop and her real self comes out. she was never that kind of person lmfao ^, she’s greedy, selfish, paranoid and rather obsessive. she doesn’t care about a lot of things that doesn’t concern her, she has a cruel streak that she hasn’t shown before, and she hates doing anything that won’t really benefit her. but she’s fiercely loyal to anyone she likes, like a dog. and severely she craves validation and approval - also like a dog.

#like if shri’iia was smarter and wiser it’s really over for you hoes 😔 but she’s not lol #the matriarch also taught her how to deceive so she had good training lool like that’s coming from the master liar herself #and in game Shri’iia’s deception is p high so it tracks 👯‍♀️ #but anyway I finished reading gone girl and shri’iia would’ve turned out like amy in her vengeance ending #I think if her paranoia consumed her and an outside figure validated her way of faking herself #and generally moulded her back to being that overly obsessive paladin who lives to serve - which is what her matriarch made her to be #but obv she can’t be that girl in the surface .. they can’t know abt the Lolth worship! they’ll kill her! so she makes a new one … a #completely different one that’s so detached from her previous self … someone new and charming and fun and harmless and the kind of person #you’ll feel safe around and happy to travel with. she is that girl! and more! and she’s down for anything! and she loves to help! #but she forgets the goddess she worships is fickle and vengeful and proud so her favor drops and suddenly her real self is left #with nothing .. so she doesn’t know what to do anymore … she doesn’t know if she should keep up this fake one I mean what’s the point does #she even have it in her anymore?? how can she go back home when they don’t want you back #like who is SHE without lolth even … bc the girl that she has been playing is nothing but a blank image #and that’s NOT her .. never been her… so shri’iia is left bewildered confused and even more scared #like what do you do if you’ve been left behind in this new world?? and the purpose of your existence doesn’t want you anymore but the #thing is she knows where she went wrong.. but she didn’t have a choice - or did she?? shri’iia doesn’t know .. she’s not a planner #you don’t need to plan when your matriarch does all the thinking for you and you just do what ur told bc there is nothing better than to #serve and fulfill your oath …!!! so she ends up getting wasted in a party with the people she didn’t even care to save lmfao #and then she gets drunk and ends up fucking this one guy just bc she asked and she’s already hit rock bottom #lolth always says fuck elves anyway so she goes off and do just that 🤷‍♀️ #shut up abt bg3.

[heavenknowsffs]

.

#so fucking useless i can't even fathom this night #i feel like shit #my friends were targeted by this fucking asshole and all i could do was try to talk to them and amenize things #my best friend couldn't even talk to me out of anger and i just left to give her space even though i should have stayed #and endured her anger and been there for her #and literally fucking kill that guy because he doesn't deserve the air he breathes #i just don't know i can't do anything and i was justthere witnessing things happen and couldn't even help at all #and then i cried like it was even anything to do with me when it wasn't but i am so tired of everything #personal #if i see him again it's on like donkey kong i might have drank a lot of beer but i this is not just today this has been going on #since months bc he's an abusive fuck and this is what he wanted all along to strike up shit with us #because he KNEW it would make a spetacle in front of a lot of people that don't know him #and would take his side and say we are the crazy ones #but at least my entire village came together to try and stop violence and put and end to it before it escalated further #but tbh that asshole should have his ass beat so badly he ends up in the urgencies and stays there for weeks #i wish killing without repercussion was legal for abusive pricks like this one fuck him i hope he dies i don't even care + #if that makes me a bad person #you mess with mine i will throw the entire malocchio i can think of on you

[enigmasong]

And, since I'm live blogging the mental breakdown for some reason, I just have to mention the way my mother weaponizes my mental illness against me.

Because me having a sour attitude after she insult my taste in media or mocked me for my neurodivergence or made an unasked for remark on my appearance or called me abnormal for liking something in a way she wouldn't or called me some variation of stupid for not knowing something she did isn't because she's being a bad person and parent, it's because I have depression and anxiety that's making me take these things way too personally.

She has specifically told me on multiple occasions that she wants me to get better so she can 'stop having to walk on eggshells' with me. So she can tell me I don't listen to real music because I listen to soundtrack music and not radio play hits, or that I'm naïve for believing the people who 'claim' the American Civil War was about slavery, or that getting into an argument with me will give someone brain damage without me taking it personally.

Like, how am I supposed to actually get better like this? How am I supposed to get better when I'm trapped with someone who thinks that me being on antidepressants means she should be able to mock me without pushback? How do I get better when the person who keeps full control over me sees my mental illness as in the way of her getting to treat me however she wants instead of as the direct results of her doing that?

How can I escape this when everything I do gets warped to fit her narrative about me and weaponized against me?

#not that i feel like i can trust telling people this #not after telling all this and more to my therapist when i had one only to have her ultimately suggest #and snap at me for rejecting #was to take my mother's car without permission #like 'oh i know you've said you're afraid your mother might kill you if you step too far from her line #but you should totes try doing exactly that #what do you mean you don't wanna poke that bear? #do you even want me to help you?!' #yeah i didn't go back to therapy after that #still on antidepressants #those do help the general issues #just not the direct attacks

[writers-potion]

Writing Morally Gray Characters

Morally gray antagonists and heroes can bring up many interesting questions about your story's theme and plot. Yes, your hero does want to save the world, but resorts to cruel ways of bringing peace?

Being morally gray can also mean that the character is highly goal- oriented and values efficiency and success over anything.

Deceiving Appearances

As is true in real life, a person's intentions aren't always obvious. A character, their title, background or really just how they look might at first indicate they're the hero type but surprise - they're not.

By hiding ulterior motives behind more apparent ones, you can add depth to your morally gray characters. Appearances can be deceiving, and that makes for a juicy read.

Morally Gray vs. Villains

Morally gray characters and villains are not strictly one and the same. Yes, there is overlap-they can be villains-but the distinctions are there nonetheless.

I don't think having a dark past to provide motivations for morally gray characters is too effective. They do intend to harm others, and sometimes, that's just the way they are.

Recognition

Your morally gray character should recognize that their choices can cause harm, intentionally or otherwise.

Although he's willing to risk the chance in his pursuit of knowledge, he does actively recognize that his actions can result in negative consequences. He sometimes acknowledges this before he does something, and sometimes only in hindsight.

Remorse

They must understand and experience remorse. When the consequences of their actions wreck and story world and kills people around her, she would certainly have regrets and even struggle to undo what she did.

The point here is, she won't regret until she has already caused the wreckage.

Redemption

Finally, when even they feel things have gone too far, your morally gray character must seek redemption however that manifests itself in your story.

For all their logic and reasoning, they are not without feeling. They can grow to care for other characters and go out of their way to help them at times, even save their life.

If you like my blog, buy me a coffee☕ and find me on instagram! 📸

#writer #writers #creative writing #writing #writing community #writers of tumblr #creative writers #writing inspiration #writeblr #writing tips #writers corner #writers community #poets and writers #writing advice #writing resources #writers on tumblr #writers and poets #helping writers #writing help #writing tips and tricks #how to write #writing life #let's write #resources for writers #references for writers

[cherryredstars]

Idk what wrong with me but I've been craving some highschool oneshot, or anything tbh

So I hope if u could do badbad!Miguel x goodgirl!nerd?

I have no idea what I meant by goodgirl!nerd,let just make her an good girl who always an big time nerd in the school,who loves helping people out,especially when it come to tutoringor tutor some students,so when miguel ask for her to tutor him,so he could catch up with his grades,she say yes to him,but he really didn't need the tutoring he just wanted to play around with reader (he would been craving for some of her attention,he would have an interest in her without anyone notice) he loved teasing,flirty, and most definitely love making her all stuttering and blushing mess,but what he hate how people who think that have their advantage over reader,eye fucking her with their eyes,it just makes his blood boil,his fist clenching in anger,but he deals with them later (beating tf out of them for thinking that they can touch what his) but not feeling satisfied he just had to show u who u belong to,and make you his,so on one can try to get u before him

Idk what wrong with me like I can write when I'm zoned out (also could u pls put nfsw pls)

Anyway have an great day

Pairing: Badboy!Miguel O’Hara x Goodgirl!Reader

Warnings: Protectiveness, Suggested Physical Fighting, Smut, Slight Exhibition, Marking, Praise, Lots of Curses and Mentions to Disney

Summary: All good boys go to heaven, but bad boys bring heaven to you. (Get it..like the song)

A/N: THIS REQUEST IS SO!!!

Word Count: 4.5K (Barely Edited)

It doesn’t take much to notice you. 

He sees you all the time, sitting in the front like the good little girl you are. Batting those innocent eyes up at every teacher as you shoot your hand up to answer every question with a bashful smile. Eyes you as you go up to different students, reminding them of tutoring sessions or offering help. His good little girl just wanted to make sure everyone graduates with passing grades. Just want to be so helpful for everyone, to feel needed. He could make you feel needed. Only if you’d let him, only if you needed him as much as he needed you. 

When he calls your name, your head shoots up instantly to turn to him. Your cheeks heat up when your eyes meet his, a smirk spreading on his face. He calls you over, finger forming a ‘come here’ motion. You instantly obey, getting out of your seat and standing over his desk. You flutter your lashes shyly at him, fingers fidgeting together as you try to kill the redness on your face. Miguel hums lazily, hand reaching out to play with a strand of your hair resting on your shoulder. Your hair is soft and silky against his fingers, his eyes watching as it twirls around his fingers.

“Tutor me.” He says simply, eyes blazing a lazy trial up to your face. His expression is one of boredom, except his eyes are glistening with mischief. 

The eye contact makes you flush deeper, face practically a tomato as you refocus your gaze to his ear to avoid his gaze. A stuttered response leaves you, uncertainty masking your voice as you ask him what he needs help with. The question momentarily pauses his movements. Truthfully, he doesn’t need help with anything. He has a high class rank, closely following behind your up and coming valedictorian title. In the end, he replies with science, a class he has a perfect grade in. You instantly agree, shyly giving him a time and day to go to the library for his sessions. 

He always shows up a few minutes early, you find him on his phone as his feet are propped up on a secluded table with his chair leaning on its back legs. A lazy smile crosses his face as he watches you walk over, not caring for the science workbooks you set down at the table. You try your hardest not to meet his gaze, finding it hard when he sets his feet down and leans closer towards you as you explain the material in quiet, stuttered sentences. He simply hums along to your explanations, not really listening as he brushes his shoulder against yours, accidentally grazing your hand when he points to a random paragraph, pressing the side of his knee against yours under the table. 

Each touch makes you stop talking, body tensing as a flush covers every inch of your skin. His touch burns against your skin, causing your voice to waver and fingers to tremble. He drinks in every reaction, interrupting your explanations with questions whispered too close to your ear in a flirty tone. They’re questions he already knows the answers to, but he just wants to keep hearing you talk and stutter. He’ll make you late to your next tutor session with a pout, teasing that he still doesn’t understand what you’re trying to teach him. It always causes your eyes to soften towards him and make you promise that you’ll move your schedule around to make room for a sooner tutoring session. It always causes Miguel to puff up with pride at his clever antics and for his heart to beat faster at the thought of spending more one-on-one time with you. 

When he’s not with you in his lovely tutor sessions, he keeps his eye on you. He watches you in the cafeteria as you offer someone your lunch because they didn’t bring any money and don’t have anything to eat. He smiles slightly to himself whenever you get stopped by an underclassman and you fuss over making sure they get to the right class and don’t end up lost in the halls. He gets slightly annoyed and furrows his brows when you hold the door open for a long string of people and only a few of them acknowledge your kindness with a thank you. You’re just so nice and he wishes he can have that sweetness of yours all to himself. Especially when he sees some random ass fuck trying their go at you. Because, of course you’re not just nice and smart, you’re a total fucking knockout. 

You have the sweetest little face paired with a body any man would get on his knees to worship, (a thought Miguel thinks about very often in the comfort of a bathroom or his bedroom), the shiniest fucking eyes that always blink up at everyone like they’re the most interesting damn thing you’ve ever met, and a voice that drips of honey and hidden sex appeal. And if it isn’t your looks that instantly draw them in, it’s that perfect personality of yours. Always kind and patient and funny. You’re always walking with someone in the halls, making everyone you’re with laugh and crave to be the subject of your attention. You’re a goddamn magnet, and everyone wants to be connected to you. You’re the type of woman that would convince any man to settle down, to drop to a single knee and ask you to be his for life. Because everyone knows that you’re a once in a lifetime girl and no one will ever come close to you. Every boy (and some girls) in this damn school wants a chance with you. 

And that pisses Miguel the fuck off. Because while you’re wife material, most boys here don’t even meet the requirements to be considered boyfriend material. Sleezy fucks who want a trophy wife that will suck them off after they come home from some meaningless job that they sit around all day doing nothing at. Immature cunts who think they’re funny when they poke fun at insecurities and claim it's a joke. Disgusting toddlers in overgrown bodies who don’t deserve to be in the same universe as you are. But, of course you’re still nice to them, and of course they think it means they have a chance with you. 

Miguel is always clenching his jaw and preparing his fists whenever he walks into the library to meet you after one of your earlier sessions to see some disney channel-looking fucker trying to sweet talk you. Key word being ‘trying’, because he can tell from a mile away that you’re still trying to be patient even though your body language screams ‘I am so close to slapping this boy with my textbooks’. The thought makes Miguel snort out a laugh that instantly dies as he watches some Zac Efron wannabe lean closer towards you. The asshole’s eyes instantly drop to your chest, where your textbooks are causing your boobs to be pushed together, revealing the most mouthwatering sight. Miguel’s eye is practically twitching when the dude’s slimy fingers come to run down your arm with the ugliest smirk Miguel has had the displeasure of seeing. 

Miguel doesn’t hesitate to walk over, walking slowly as he stops at the end of the table with a bored and displeased expression on his face. The boy, who’ll probably end up as a drug addict in his 20s, looks very annoyed at his presence. Even muttering something about Miguel being a ‘cock-blocker’ under his breath. The retort makes Miguel lift his brow in surprise. He didn’t know Mickey Mouse Junior even had a dick. Must be one of his magic mousekatools, he concludes. 

Miguel ignores him, instantly turning to you. The grateful look on your face as you stare at him makes Miguel puff out his chest, proud of himself for making you feel better. His body loses the tiniest bit of tension as you smile softly at him. “He bothering you, princesa?”

You instantly widen your eyes, moving to shake your head when Donald Duck speaks up, “I think you’re the one bothering her, actually.”

He must have been a mosquito in his past life, Miguel thinks to himself, it would explain why he’s so fucking annoying. Miguel turns over to Shrek’s brother and stares him down. The boy instantly looks like he might piss his pants, but keeps his position as much as his wobbling legs can, “I think you should leave Miguel. I’m sure she’ll be…preoccupied for the next hour or two.”

His comment makes you cringe from the applied meaning and Miguel sees absolute red. He has to laugh at what this fucker thinks would have happend if Miguel didn’t show up. Yeah right, like this motherfucker could last that long. Miguel grabs the front of his collar with a tight grip, almost pulling the poor boy over the table. A vein is visibly running down Migue’s neck as his jaw clenches. 

“Puta madre. Cuando termine contigo, no podrás tocar nada nunca más.” Miguel grinds out, shaking the worthless piece of shit slightly before turning towards you in a nicer, softer tone, but still laced with a bit of tension: “Go find us a nice table, hermosa. I have to take care of something real quick.” 

You can only nod, watching as Miguel leaves with the boy out the back entrance of the library. You wince slightly as the door closes rather loudly, feeling a bit of sympathy for the boy who most likely won’t schedule another tutoring session once Miguel comes back. You spend the next 20 or so minutes preparing the secluded table Miguel likes best. Laying out all your books and supplies, sitting still and then getting antsy and shifting things to straighten them every few minutes. 

When Miguel finds you, he walks over with his hands in his pocket. He looks just like he did a few minutes ago, his hair just slightly disheveled. Your heart might have actually stopped when his hand leaves his pocket to grab yours that are drummin nervously on the wooden table. His hand is rough compared to your soft one as he bends down and brings it to his face. His lips are soft, if not slightly chapped, when he presses a fleeting kiss to your knuckles, mumbling an apology for taking so long as he stares into your eyes. Your eyes are wide as you stutter out reassurance that it’s fine. Miguel simply hums before dropping your hand and going to sit down. He pauses when your small hands grab his once again.

Your thumb strokes over the redness and slight purple color of his knuckles, something that definitely wasn’t there when he first came in, hinting at what happened outside of the library building. A slight crease appears between your brows and your lips are in a sad pout.Your eyes don’t leave his hand when you mutter, “You’re hurt.” 

Your concern makes Miguel slightly happy, liking the idea you care for him. He slips his hand into yours, bending back down as his hand goes under your chin to lift your face. Out of sight from peering eyes, he presses a kiss to the corner of your lips. “Don’t worry ‘bout it, mkay?”

Your stuttered and shy state makes him smile, muttering how cute you are as he finally sits down. You have to clap a hand over your mouth to conceal a squeak when Miguel grabs the seat of your chair and pulls it closer to him, practically connecting the edge of the chairs. He casually throws his arm over the back of your chair, not doing any dramatics like faking a yawn or stretching. You stare and blink at him, nervousness bubbling in your stomach as he leans in closer. “Are we going to start or what, mami?”

He keeps his smile to himself, watching as you clear your throat and scramble to open your science textbook to where you had left off the last time. He just sits and watches, fingers ghosting over your shoulder gently, feeling nothing like the other guy. He listens to what you’re saying faintly, pointing at some diagram in the book. He thinks you asked him a question because you stare at him patiently, yet expectantly. He turns to you, shrugging, “Can’t see the model clearly.”

You nod, moving to push the book closer to him before his hands are on your waist. He leans fully back into his chair as he lifts you off yours and into his lap. He pulls the book in front of the both of you, head resting on your shoulder as he hums. “That’s better. Now ask the question again.”

Your brain stops functioning for a second, Miguel’s hands leaving your waist to rest against your legs, fingers slightly caressing the side of your thigh. Your nervousness makes you squirm, and his hands instantly grab onto your thighs tightly with a hiss. He grinds out for you to ask the question again, but he doesn’t sound aggressive. His voice sounds more pained and desperate. You nod with a gulp, hesitantly reasking the question that he pretends to think about before answering correctly just to hear your praise. 

As you continue talking, Miguel’s fingers rub the skin just below the ending of your skirt. You try to ignore the touches, but your body melts against his front as your voice quiets and you shift your body slightly to press into him. Miguel’s breath tickles your neck and your thighs clench as a single finger slips under the material of your skirt. It just barely skims over your panties, and your breath hitches. Miguel smirks at your reactions, asking you what’s wrong as he slowly moves your leg so it hangs over his leg. You’re a stuttering mess, brain malfunctioning when his hand comes back and caresses the crotch of your panties. Your cheeks flush, knowing it’s damp in arousal. 

A quiet groan leaves Miguel as he moves your panties to the side, letting his fingers rub against your bare pussy. Sticky fluid instantly clings to his fingers and his head turns to press kisses against your neck, his free hand coming up to your chin to tilt your head to the side for more room. Your hand comes down to hold his arm, eyes closing as the tips of his fingers tease your entrance. When he hears your slight whimper, he looks up to your face and pulls his fingers away, moving them to trace circles in your inner thigh. 

The small sound you make in protest causes him to chuckle, “Shh, shh. Keep talking, baby. You’re supposed to help me, remember?”

You open your mouth to protest but his fingers are back, this time slowly sinking into your heat instead of just teasing with his fingertips. Your eyes instantly close again and you let out a shuddering breath. You open our eyes, trying to focus on the words in the book. When you begin to read and explain a scientific equation, Miguel’s fingers reach knuckle-deep into you. You can hear the muffled sound he makes as he continues to suck and kiss your neck. Your weak explanation is cut off when he pulls his fingers back and pumps them into you, curling his fingers. The beginning of a moan is let out before your hand clasps over your mouth. Miguel laughs evilly as he continues moving his fingers. 

You're sure this is a game to him. Everytime you stop explaining things, he stops and tells you to continue. But once you start talking, his pumps and curls his fingers faster, causing you to cut yourself off when sounds of pleasures. You’re a mess by the time you finish your explanation, hips grinding into Miguel’s hand and fingers clutching to the edge of the table for stability. 

Once you say your last words, Miguel speeds his fingers up and bites into your neck, “Good girl. Gonna give you a reward for being such a good girl for me, yeah?”

You don’t hesitate to nod, face screwed up in pleasure as you reach closer and closer to the edge. Miguel leaves your neck, licking the bite soothingly before tilting your face back towards him. He muffles the loud moan you make as you gush around his fingers with a deep kiss. He bites and sucks on your bottom lip, eyes closed and brows furrowed as he savors the taste of your lip gloss. His tongue swipes over the seam of your lips, causing you to part them as his tongue explores your mouth. 

His fingers move to lazy pumps, working you through your orgasm before stopping completely. Your body shakes slightly against his, and he smirks into the kiss before pulling away. His fingers reappear from under your skirt, covered in your white cum. You both watch as he part his two fingers, white strings connecting the two. You let out an embarrassed whimper, watching as Miguel brings them up to his mouth, licking them clean. Your taste instantly floods his mouth and he practically rolls his eyes back. Of course you’d taste so fucking sweet and delicious. His fingers leave his mouth with a small pop, hurriedly coming back to kiss you again. A shy moan leaves you at your own taste. 

Miguel’s hand moves your other leg, spreading you out fully so both of your legs are pressed into the sides of his thighs. His hand leaves your chin and scoots you further up his leg, working on undoing his jeans just enough to stick his aching cock out of his underwear. The head is red and leaking, precum sliding down his length. His hand comes to pump himself before he moves you back over him, his cock resting against your ruined panties. 

“Move your panties to the side for me, yeah?” He mumbles against your lips. You comply instantly, pushing your panties to one side, moaning when Miguel takes a hold of his cock to align it with you. He pushed slowly into you, his hand releasing his cock to hold onto your thigh and to cover your mouth as you continued moaning out. He throws his head back with a choked moan the moment he bottoms out, holding still to bask in the way your tight cunt swallows him and squeezes around him. 

“Feels so fucking tight. Feels like I’m in heaven.” Miguel hisses out, his hips thrusting into you experimentally. 

The cutest of mewls leave your mouth, causing Miguel to nose your cheek almost lovingly. He takes his time, lazily thrusting into your pulsating pussy in an attempt to hold himself back. But he’s wanted this for so long. He’s wanted to touch you, to kiss you, to just be near you since the moment he laid eyes on you. And he’s here, in the goddamn school library, and you’re letting him fuck you as you sit on his lap. It feels like a scene straight out of some fucked-up erotica or porn video. Would it be too much if he started thanking you until he’s a babbling mess?

A strangled noise leaves Miguel when you start fucking bouncing on his cock, impatient with his slow speed. Instinctively, his hips speed up. The sound of wet squelching filling the small, unoccupied section of the library. Anyone can walk over, some poor student or librarian in need of a book only to find his good girl riding his cock so desperately. The thought makes his balls tighten and he has to distract himself before he blows his load into you too soon. He buries his head into the curve of your shoulder, shifting the hand that covers your mouth to stuff two of his fingers past your lips. Without even asking, you start sucking on them as you lift your hips up and down. 

“Good girl. Good fucking girl, princesa.” Miguel praises into your ear, his hand leaving your thigh to pinch and play with your neglected clit. It causes you to squirm and for your steady riding to falter. “Oh fuck. Taking my cock so well, yeah? Taking it is so good for me. Holy fuck!” 

More curses leave his mouth as he pounds into you, shifting his hips until he hits that gummy spot inside of you that causes you to wrap your arm around his neck to hold on for dear life. Your pussy just keeps quivering around him, milking him for the cum you so desperately need to be filled with. The cum he wants to fill and claim you with. The thought of you walking out of the library, hell going to tutor another student, with his cum flooding your pussy and dripping through your panties is something he’s fantasized about for months. His pure, innocent girl tainted with how dirty she is by fucking him of all people, in a place where anyone can see how naughty she really is.  

“Miguel!” 

The sound of your muffled call makes his eyes snap open from their closed position, He looks up at your face, watching as a line of drool drips from your stuffed mouth. He has to groan and give you deep thrusts as a thank you for the pretty sight. As he thrusts, he realizes how much your walls have contracted, practically trying to trap his cock inside you. He notices how much your body is beginning to twitch and he knows you’re close. Your eyes look hazy and the muffled moans you let out add on to how close you must be to coating his cock. 

“Wanna cum on my cock, love? Gonna cum and make you all mine, yeah?” He whispers into your ear, slowing his fast thrusting in exchange for hard and deep thrusts that cause you to whine. You desperately nod your head, babbled and incoherent nonsense being said around his fingers. 

Miguel let out a low chuckle, speeding up again and relishing the happy noise that vibrates in the back of your throat. Your walls clench around him like a heartbeat for a few blissful moments before you're screaming around his fingers as your back arches and thighs shake. Miguel moans as he feels you cum around him, the lewdest noises coming from your wet cunt as he hammers into you for his own release. A sweat builds up on his face as he drives into you, trying to push in and out of your tight walls that only seem to tighten the more he thrusts. 

“That’s my good fucking girl. Came so beautifully around my cock.” He mumbles, looking down to where the two of you are connected to see the most gorgeous white ring at the base of his cock. He can feel himself twitching inside of you, on the brink of exploding. 

Miguel bites into your neck as one last act of claiming as he spills into you, his hips not stopping as he pumps you full of his seed. A delirious moan comes from you as you feel his warmth, but you seem happy as you melt into him. Your skin is sticky from sweat, arousal, and Miguel’s saliva when he pulls his face away from your neck. The bite mark is red against the purples beginning to stain your skin. He can feel himself getting hard again at the sight of it, but he refrains from taking more than what you’ve already given him. 

He lifts you up slightly, moaning as a mix of cum slowly falls from your hole, dripping onto the underside of his semi-hard cock. It drips down, merging with the cum that still sits at the base of his dick. He makes you stand between his legs, your upper body pressed against the table as you try to recompose yourself as Miguel lifts up the back of your skirt to study your glistening pussy and thighs. He pressed a small kiss on your pussy lips before readjusting your underwear to cover you again. A proud smile graces his lips as he watches the previous wet spot in them get darker from the cum still trying to leave you.

When he pulls the skirt back down, he finds you looking over your shoulder with a shy look. His beautiful good girl is back to her doe eyes and flustered cheeks. Miguel tucks himself back into his underwear, zipping himself back up. He takes the time to lazily look around, amazed that no one realized what was happening or witnessed it. He stands up off the chair, looking back towards you and wraps one of his arms around your middle to pull you up against his chest. 

The tiniest of squeaks leaves you as you meet his hard chest again, looking up at him with amazement. You can’t help but study his face, admiring the way his lashes flutter as he blinks and the way he looks good from even this angle. HIs eyes look down at you briefly, a lazy smile coming over his face as he shakes his head. He works on packing up your things for you, closing the unneeded textbook and stuffing it and your other supplies back into your bag. When he’s finished, he shifts his face down towards you, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. 

The sappy smile that appears on your face makes his heart beat fast and for his own cheeks to heat up. He gulps and clears his throat, looking away as his hand starts rubbing the skin it rests over. He slings your book bag over his shoulder, the pastel color of it a large contrast over his entirely black attire. He stares back down at you, pushing hair out of your face and tilting his head at you. 

“Do you have another tutoring session to go to now?” He whispers softly, smiling when you shake your head no wordlessly. He hums in pleasure, his arm sliding from around your center and down to your hand, dwarfing it in his. He gives it a tight squeeze and pulls you with him as he starts walking towards the exit. You follow him with no resistance, just hurrying your pace to keep up with his long strides. 

“Where are we going?” You ask as the afternoon sun instantly hits both of you when you walk out the door. He pulls you straight to his car, opening the passenger door for you and closing it before putting your bag in the backseat. You watch without question through the windshield as you buckle in and he rounds the car to go through the drivers’ side door. After he buckles in, he turns and starts reversing, not answering until he’s out of the parking spot and turning the wheel back to straighten it. 

“Imma take you home so you can change.” He says simply, turning to throw you a quick smile before grabbing your hand again and intertwining them as he clutches onto the gearshift. “And then, I’m going to take you out on a date.”

Part 2

Literally the longest thing I’ve posted because I love this request so much! I now reached 100 pages in my writing doc. As always, SpanishDict was used.

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel ohara x you #across the spiderverse #atsv miguel #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman 2099 x you #across the spiderverse smut #miguel ohara #miguel o'hara smut #miguel x reader #miguel o hara #spiderman 2099 #cherry's requests🍒

[babyleostuff]

baby, you’re a drunk mess

fluff 𐙚 established relationship 𐙚 idol!wonwoo x fem!reader 𐙚 wc: 958

. . . being drunk is not that bad when you have wonwoo to take care of you

wonwoo knew exactly how this night would end the second he received a message from seungcheol, inviting you over for a drink. it never ended with only a drink. 

„baby, lean on me,” wonwoo grabbed you tighter by your waist, as you stumbled over your own feet, trying to act as if you weren't totally waisted. “i’m going to kill mingyu for making her play that drinking game”. 

„m’ fine,” you mumbled. „see, i can walk on m’ own,” you took his hand that was resting on your hip, and shoved it away, taking a step forward. wonwoo smirked at your weak attempt to push him away, considering you were drunk out of your mind, but your confidence that you were so much stronger than him was truly comical. he knew he shouldn’t have let you go, but maybe if you eventually ran into a wall or something you’d cooperate better because there was no way he’d get you home with you acting like this. 

wonwoo could only shake his head in amusement, while following your every slow step. there was no way he’d actually let you fall. „you’re doing great, sweetie, but let me help you, hm?” you whipped your head around, glaring at him. „i can do it,” you hiccuped, „on m’ own,” you said, but as you took another step, you stumbled once again, falling right back into your boyfriend’s embrace. 

„are you done?” he shifted you around, so he could hold you properly, taking most of your body weight on him. you nodded, and put your hands around his bicep, finally calming down. wonwoo slowly started walking towards your apartment, holding you tenderly, and even though he didn't have to see your drooping eyelids, he could feel your energy dropping with every step. 

somehow he managed to open the door and get you to the bed without either of you falling over. "okay, now let's lie down," he said quietly so as not to startle you, seeing that you were already half asleep. you nodded weakly, and with his help, you finally managed to lie on the bed.

wonwoo stroked your head gently and kissed your slightly sweaty forehead before turning on the bedside lamp next to the bed so he could turn off the main light and enflug your room into soft darkness.

„wonwoo,” you called softly. 

„i’ll be right back baby, we have to wipe your makeup off.”

after turning off the light, he quickly went to the bathroom where he took all the things he would need to put you to sleep. "i'm coming," he said, grabbing one of his t-shirts and hoodies from the closet in case you were cold at night (especially since he knew that when you were drunk you became clingier and wearing his clothes always made you so happy). 

he put all the things on the bed and grabbed your hands. "come on honey, you need to change." happy that you were cooperating so much better than you were fifteen minutes ago, he easily helped you change into his clothes and placed you back on the pillows so he could wash off your makeup.

“you don't have to do this, wonwoo,” you whispered, but when he placed a cotton pad on your face, you closed your eyes and sighed, grateful that you had someone who could take care of you so well. "Was I very insufferable today?"

wonwoo didn’t even move, he just continued to focus on your face, slowly removing more of the makeup from your face. "you're never insufferable," he said. "don't ever say that."

"i know, but i feel like i ruined your night because you have to take care of me and-"

"do you want me to get mad at you?" he asked sharply, looking straight into your tired eyes. "you didn't ruin my night. being with my brothers and you at the same time is the biggest gift from the universe, no matter how drunk you are. i'm your boyfriend, i'm here to take care of you, just like you take care of me ,” he said, throwing out a used cotton pad. "should i remind you how many things you do for me when i'm busy at work? how you prepare my food for rehearsals, and how you do my laundry when i'm too tired to do it? when you listen to me complain for hours about how exhausted i am?"

"baby, drunk or not, i will always take care of you, and not because i have to, or because it's my duty, but because i love you," he said with sincerity in his eyes, and despite your not-so-sober state, you didn't miss his look full of love. "seeing you having fun with my friends means everything to me." you nodded slightly in understanding. what did you do to deserve jeon wonwoo?

"okay, make-up removed, clothes changed, do you need anything else?"

"maybe water?"

"of course, let’s just get you under the covers."

after covering you up, wonwoo went out to the kitchen to get a glass of water and painkillers for tomorrow morning and returned to your bedroom.

“okay, now we can-,” his words faltered when he saw you already asleep, your hand on his pillow, and you snuggled into yours. he placed the glass and pills on your bedside table quietly, and turned off the light before lying on his side of the bed, lifting your hand and placing it on his stomach. almost as if you knew in your sleep that he was next to you, you placed your head on his chest, treating it like your new, comfy pillow.

"i'm a drunk mess," you whispered after a while, kissing his jaw.

"yes. but you're my drunk mess."

taglist (if you want to be added, check my masterlist): @jeonghansshitester @weird-bookworm @sea-moon-star @hanniehaee @wonwooz1 @byprettymar @edgaralienpoe @staranghae @itza-meee @eightlightstar @immabecreepin @whatsgyud @hyneyedfiz @honestlydopetree @vicehectic @dkswife @uniq-tastic @marisblogg @aaniag @daegutowns @carlesscat-thinklogic23 @embrace-themagic @ohmyhuenings @nidda13 @hrts4hanniehae @k-drama-adict @isabellah29 @f4iryjjosh @bangantokchy @mrswonwooo @bangtancultsposts @lllucere @athanasiasakura @chillseo @onlyyjeonghan @haecien @caramyisabitchforsvtandbts @hannahhbahng @valgracia @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken @mirxzii @hhusbuds @wonranghaeee @rosiesauriostuff @gyuguys @aaasia111 @tomodachiii @veryfabday @lilmochiandsuga @asasilentreader @mrsnervous @bewoyewo @sharonxdevi @wondipity @gyuguys @raginghellfire @treehouse-mouse @waldau @wonootnoot @hellodefthings

#seventeen #seventeen reactions #svt reactions #seventeen imagines #seventeen kpop #seventeen x you #seventeen x reader #seventeen carat #seventeen fluff #svt fluff #seventeen requests #seventeen reaction #jeon wonwoo #seventeen wonwoo #wonwoo fluff #wonwoo fic #wonwoo x reader #wonwoo #wonwoo seventeen #wonwoo imagines #wonwoo scenarios #wonwoo x you #wonwoo x y/n #seventeen x y/n

[abbyshands]

— sub!ellie x dom!gamer!reader

└── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┘

imagine sub!ellie, whose need grows wild each time you play video games. she’ll want to sit on your lap, arms wrapped around your neck; or, in some cases, her lips wrapped around your cock under the desk. you’re playing at your desk, ellie in your lap with her legs on either side of your thigh. you’re looking at the game over her shoulder as she clings onto you, face buried in your neck. you giggle as you take a small break to look at her, running a soft hand into her auburn locks. you could guess what she needed, easily so. “so obvious when you need me, els. yes, you can,” you say as a form of giving her permission. it’s vague and unclear, but there’s a shared comprehension of what, precisely, you’re giving ellie permission for. she begins to grind her lower body onto your thigh, clit rubbing up on your jeans. she’ll only be wearing underwear and a tank top, and it’s like you can feel how wet she is through the denim of your jeans. you snake an arm around her waist and use your controller to play your game behind her back as she pleasures herself. “you want my friends to hear you, baby? or do you want mommy to turn her mic off?” you tease ellie, whispering the words into her ear. your mic is already off, but you just love to fuck with her. “o- off. m’just for you, mama,” ellie grumbles as she fucks her pussy onto your thigh carelessly. you smile with a small shrug, then go back to playing your game. ”f- fuck,” ellie whines loudly, filling your ears as your eyes are locked on the screen. from time to time, you grab onto ellie’s ass, playing your game one handed as you help her grind down on you, pressing sloppy kisses to her neck to help her release along. when ellie begins to brokenly moan out your name, brokenly whispering, “mommy,” like it’s a prayer, you can’t help yourself. you find a spot for your in-game character to stay without getting killed, and set your controller down. “aw, sweet girl. so needy for mommy,” you coo as you get a good look at her, auburn hair messy over her forehead, neck and cheeks a pale pink. when you look down at her boxers, there’s a wet spot where her clit is, needy and achy for your touch. you hold ellie by the hips and make her grind as fast as she can go, to which ellie isn’t at all opposed. “c’mon, baby. fuck, look at that. look how good you are for me,” you praise as ellie buries her face into your neck. “m- mama, c- can i—“ she begins, but you already know the next word that’s going to leave her puffed up lips. “go ahead, baby. cum for me, nice and easy,” you coo, and that’s the last thing ellie hears before she’s falling apart on your thigh, soaking her boxers in her release and spilling it onto your jeans.

└── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┘

a/n; the double posting when i should be asleep rn is crazy (but real) anyway?! user abbyshands not posting abby?! so weird.

———

#ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams smut #ellie williams x you #ellie tlou #tlou ellie #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams fic #ellie williams fanfic #tlou smut #tlou2 smut #the last of us smut #the last of us #tlou

[ellemj]

I Hate You

Bucky Barnes x Female Reader One-Shot: SMUT

Request by @kateversca1011: "y/n has these weird mind powers where she can feel others feelings or make others feel hers...she accidentally during a very heated fun time projects everything she is feeling to Bucky, basically doubling his pleasure"

Summary: After ending up on SHIELD's radar, you're moved into the tower against your will. Of course, you can't stand the one man that you have the most in common with.

Warnings: profanity, teasing, one bed trope, unprotected sex, hate sex, dirty talking, praise, MINORS DNI, 18+!!!

Word Count: 9.3k

A/N: I fucking LOVED this prompt yet I feel like my (4th) attempt at it is as horseshit as the other attempts. This may get another attempt one day. Thank you @kateversca1011 for the wonderful prompt inspo, I hope this entertains you at least a little bit.

            You have the worst luck in the world. In fact, your luck is so bad that you might even be able to call it a curse. It was one of those unfortunate things that started early in your life and has carried on throughout the years, affecting seemingly everything that you do. You thought it came to a head when your hometown was obliterated twelve years ago, when your parents were killed as they lay asleep in their bed across the house that you grew up in. You thought that was the pinnacle of your misfortune. Then, you thought that maybe it was two days after that, when you were sure you were being rescued from the rubble you laid under, only to be taken away by soldiers with unmatchable strength and brutality and stripped of not only your rights, but your dignity. You were held captive for so long that you stopped attributing your dark times to bad luck and started to think this was how life was supposed to be. By the time they started experimenting on you, you didn’t even feel bad for yourself anymore. You simply accepted it as the next era of your life that you had no control over.

            “Okay, we’re all done.” Shuri’s voice rings out through the speaker in the MRI machine. The flat surface that you’ve been lying on for the past forty-five minutes begins to slide out of the narrow tube it held you in, slowly exposing the rest of the room to your view. You take a deep breath in, stretching your arms out in front of you and wiggling your legs a little. Your lower half always falls asleep when you have these scans done.

            Shuri watches you intently through the glass of the MRI observation window. She watches as the nurse helps you sit up and swing your legs over the side of the tabletop. She watches as you run a hand through your hair and offer the nurse a kind smile before moving to stand on the floor. She watches as your eyes narrow in the slightest and a look of surprise crosses your face. She knows what you just did. She knows that the moment the nurse was in your personal space, you had no control over the unusual chemistry of your brain. You invaded the nurse’s mind and picked up on the fact that she’s afraid of you.   

            “She’s not ready to go free yet, is she?” Fury asks tersely. He entered the observation room so silently that Shuri didn’t even notice him until he spoke. As the nurse leads you out of the MRI room and begins taking you back to the main area of the medical bay, Shuri turns in her chair to face Fury.

            “She doesn’t have enough control over her abilities yet. I think she’s still psychologically stable, the program you put her through did its job, but there’s no guarantee that she’ll simply go out into the world and behave.” Shuri chooses her words carefully. She doesn’t think that you’re a threat in your current state, but should you ever desire to be, you could easily become one. Your powers rival those of Wanda Maximoff’s, except even less is known about the extent of yours thus far. You’re the equivalent of the Winter Soldier without anyone having used his activation words yet, a ticking time bomb.

            That’s what leads to Shuri and Fury both addressing you in the medical bay moments later. You sit on an exam table picking at a loose thread in your frayed jeans as they approach you, trying your hardest not to read into their thoughts, their feelings. You’d like to experience what it’s like to be surprised by what comes out of someone’s mouth for once.

            “That was your last fMRI for a while.” Shuri says happily, her smile looking truly genuine. You smile back, but continue picking at the thread, not wanting to make any prolonged eye contact. Eye contact always seems to make it easier to read people, and easier for your own thoughts and emotions to spill over into their consciousness if you’re not careful.

            “I’m guessing there isn’t all good news though, right? Since you’re both here this time.” You ask knowingly, your gaze darting between the two who stand before you. Shuri gives Fury a sideways glance, as if she’s waiting for him to take the lead. His eye narrows at you, his forehead scrunching up above his eyepatch as he studies you.

            “We can’t let you go out and live your life just yet. There are too many unknowns right now. I’m going to be putting you up in the Avengers tower.”

            “But—” Fury holds up his hand to silence you, as if you’re a backtalking teenager.

            “It’s not permanent. This is just until we can help you gain more control over your abilities. We can reassess after. When you’re finished here, I’ll have someone waiting outside to take you over to the other side of the compound and show you around.” Fury’s gone before his words have even fully sunk in.

            “He’s a straight-to-the-point kind of guy, isn’t he? No bullshit with him.” You say quietly, shaking your head as you come to terms with everything he’s just said. You’ve been staying in what you can only call a high-end holding cell at the nearby SHIELD base since the day you appeared on their radar and they brought you in, very much against your will. Another bout of bad luck, you’d told yourself, as you were restrained with some sort of technologically advanced handcuffs and later forcibly put through multiple rigorous evaluations. After the evaluations came the decompression and psychological rehabilitation that they had originally designed to be used for victims of capture and torture, agents who were in too deep and didn’t have backup when the worst happened. After that, you started undergoing medical testing, constant scans and blood draws, on a weekly basis. Shuri was brought in because no one else could figure you out.

            “It’s the eye patch, he has to be short and gruff with people to fit the look.” Shuri jokes. She stands closer to you than most people would, within arms’ reach. You offer a light laugh and she considers it a small victory. “I think you’ll find that living in the tower, around other people with unique abilities, might actually help you. You’ll get a really nice room too, probably nicer than just about anywhere else you’d find in the city.”

            “A nice room that I never get to leave.” You point out. Shuri’s gaze softens and she looks you over. Most people wouldn’t look at you and see a bomb that hasn’t yet been detonated. Hell, you could probably weaponize that fact if you wanted to, the fact that you look normal, innocent even.

            “You can leave your room, but I think it’s best if you don’t get too close with anyone, physically or emotionally. Give yourself some time to learn boundaries when it comes to your abilities first.” Shuri advises. She notices the way you take in her entire appearance as she speaks, but you avoid looking into her eyes. You’re trying to give her mind the privacy it deserves. You’re making an effort to stay out of her thoughts, and to keep from projecting your own onto her. She thinks that you’ll get the hang of the control thing soon enough, and Fury will either free you to go about your new life or he’ll make an attempt to recruit you as an asset. Only time will tell which direction you’ll go, but she finds herself hoping that this won’t be the last she sees of you.

---

            Bucky’s heard about the girl who reads minds, the girl who can make others feel her pain, the girl who could take away someone’s mental anguish with just one shared look. He’s heard enough about that girl that he formed his own mental image of her. He pictures her as an evil cartoon witch, with long, dark fingernails that curl up at the ends and a characteristic black and purple outfit, maybe even flying around on a broom. When he heard that this cartoon witch would be moving into the empty room across the hall from his, he imagined cardboard boxes filled with crystal balls, spiders, and cobwebs being dropped off before the girl’s arrival.

            Bucky didn’t think for a second that you’d show up so quietly and uneventfully, trying to draw as little attention to yourself as possible. He didn’t think you’d show up with nothing more than a small, government-issued duffel bag and a profound avoidance of eye contact. And he sure as hell didn’t think that you’d end up being so goddamn pretty. As you stood in the lobby of the tower with Maria Hill and two other SHIELD agents, Bucky was just getting back from a therapy session with Dr. Raynor. He saw you as you stood there with your duffel bag and blank stare aimed at a wall. He saw you as you made sure to board the elevator last, letting everyone else enter before you and then staying a few steps behind on your way in. You saw him as the doors began to slide shut. You caught one little glimpse of the man, dressed in dark jeans and a dark Henley tee. Unreasonably attractive. That was your first impression of him, as the doors closed and he disappeared from your sight.  

            An hour later, you’re sitting alone in your new room, carefully folding and putting away the few pieces of clothing you brought with you. Your wardrobe consists of a couple of pairs of jeans, a sweatshirt or two, and the same pair of sneakers you always wear. Or at least that’s what it consisted of until today. When you arrived to the room and finally had the chance to shut Maria and the other agents out and settle yourself in, you quickly realized that Tony Stark, or more his wife Pepper, had taken it upon their shoulders to have your closet filled with a wide range of pants, shorts, dresses, workout attire, and far too many shoes for someone with only two feet. You thought it was a mistake at first, that maybe you’d been given the wrong key to the wrong room. Until you saw a white envelope sitting on the nightstand beside the bed. It contained the only note you’d ever received from anyone, detailing how all of the items in the closet now belong to you, and were picked out by Pepper upon Tony’s request. As you stand in the closet now, running your fingers along the various fabrics and colors hanging in front of you, it feels as though every birthday that you missed out on celebrating after your parents’ deaths and your own capture are being celebrated in this moment.

---

            Bucky sits in one of the briefing rooms with Sam and Torres, only half-listening to whatever they’re droning on about as he traces the golden crevices of his vibranium arm with his flesh index finger. He doesn’t chime in at all as the topic shifts from one of last week’s missions, to a piece of intel Torres intercepted yesterday, to the mission that could potentially be coming up at the end of this week. It isn’t until Torres brings up the girl that just moved in upstairs that Bucky’s flesh hand falters and his eyes flit up to take in the image that’s holographically displayed over the table in the center of the room.

            “I gathered as much information on her as I could.” Torres says, as he begins flipping through a few different files on the display. He stops on one titled First Event. When he opens the electronic file, Bucky’s heart drops instantly at the words his brain sorts through and picks out. Terrorist attack. Intentional target. Orphaned. HYDRA. He swallows hard when the picture of your childhood home, completely reduced to smoking ash and rubble, appears before him. Another picture shows a small girl, seemingly around age eleven or twelve, covered in soot and dirt, with her hands bound in front of her as she’s being lifted and placed in the back of a truck. “She was taken by HYDRA operatives when she was 12. It was an operation with the sole aim of taking twenty children, disguising the entire thing as a brutal terrorist attack. The missing children were all presumed dead in the attacks, which was what HYDRA wanted. There was never an investigation for any of them.” A few pictures show a grimy prison-like holding cell, an operating room with different pieces of technology and equipment that definitely aren’t standard in normal medical facilities, and a few brain scans. “All of the twenty children underwent testing and experimentation. Some died within a couple of weeks, some within a couple of months. She was the only one to survive to be rescued. She lived in this underground HYDRA facility for at least ten years that we know of.”

            “Ten years?” Sam asks incredulously, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms over his chest. “How did she end up on SHIELD’s radar?” Torres pauses his biography of the worst years of your life and opens up a different file on the display, one titled Second Event.

            “Skipping the details of how she was rescued in the first place, she doesn’t have much control over her abilities. She tried to lay low, that much was obvious, but SHIELD has a program to seek people like her out, to keep an eye on them.” Torres explains. Bucky’s eyes are glued to an image of the girl he saw in the elevator only an hour ago. You’re at an outdoor farmer’s market, with a ballcap pulled low over your forehead and your gaze cast downward as you browse a fruit stand. The image is eerily similar to a moment of his own life that he remembers, buying plums at a Romanian market when he was trying to go unnoticed and live a quiet life on his own.

            “So, she made a misstep somewhere along the way, becomes property of SHIELD, and then Fury sends her here.” Sam recaps, looking to Torres to make sure he’s got it all right.

            “Pretty much, yeah. He doesn’t think it’s safe to let her be out in the real world on her own yet.”

            “Not safe for her? Or not safe for everyone else?” Sam asks, raising an eyebrow. Bucky turns his attention to Torres this time as well, curious about the answer.

            “Both.”

            A few more details are shared around the table as Torres flips back and forth between all of the available information that he has on you. Bucky, however, is deep in thought. He watches as new and old images flit back and forth on the screen, his mind digesting everything and piecing you together. You’re pretty, that’s for damn certain. You’re pretty and he can tell from your past, from your known abilities, that you’re likely good as hell at manipulating people. He imagines with your looks alone that you could get just about anyone to do just about anything for you. With your looks and your abilities? You could do more damage than most. You’re dangerous. Dangerous and unpredictable. And now you live across the hall from him.

            Those two words repeat in Bucky’s head as he takes the stairs up to the main living floor later that same day. Dangerous and unpredictable. There are a few more words floating around in his head but he’s actively ignoring those. So goddamn pretty.

            You really are pretty. You wouldn’t necessarily think so yourself, as you stand in front of the full-length mirror in your room, crossing your arms over your chest. FRIDAY’s voice rang out through a speaker somewhere in your room just a few minutes earlier, letting you know that dinner would be at six. Of course, FRIDAY didn’t offer you a dress code or even a very solid answer when you asked her what one should wear to such a dinner. The last time you had dinner with anyone, you were twelve and you were wearing a sparkly pink Barbie shirt. Though you could double check your closet for a shirt like that now, you have a feeling you won’t find one in your size. So, you remain in your distressed jeans and oversized gray SHIELD sweatshirt.

            “Do you think she’ll show up?” Torres asks, mainly directing his question to Sam more than anyone else. Sam shrugs as he continues stirring the spaghetti sauce he’s been cooking on the stovetop.

            “If she’s hungry she will.” He responds. Truthfully, he has no idea if you’ll come out of your room or not. If you don’t, he’ll take a bowl of food to your room at the very least, but he’d prefer it if you came out and interacted with everyone so he could at least get a feel for you. It was obvious by the way Bucky sat so narrow-eyed and steely in the briefing room earlier that he doesn’t like you, that he doesn’t trust you being in the tower. Sam hasn’t yet jumped to such a conclusion.

            “What do we do if she does? If she shows up?” Torres almost sounds nervous. Sam chuckles before propping his wooden spoon on the edge of the saucepan and moving to wash his hands in the kitchen sink.

            “We eat dinner.”

---

            You don’t look like a scared, vulnerable twelve-year-old girl, and you most definitely don’t look like someone who has the power to manipulate thoughts or feelings. As you sit at the table, twirling spaghetti noodles around your fork, you’re trying your best to ignore the eyes on you. You feel a bit relieved that it’s not the entire group staring, no, it’s just that one unreasonably attractive man with the black and gold prosthetic arm. He stares. He stares as if it’s the only thing he knows how to do. Honestly, maybe it really is the only thing he knows how to do, because he sure as hell hasn’t participated in any of the table small talk this evening.

            “So, you were just laying low before SHIELD found you?” Torres asks kindly, tearing apart a piece of garlic bread with his hands as he peers over at you. He’s seated immediately to your right and has been the most inquisitive thus far.

            “Yeah, clearly I wasn’t very good at that though.” You respond lightheartedly, earning you a few small laughs around the table. You lift your fork to your mouth and take a small bite of pasta. It’s heavenly honestly. It’s so much better than the measly three meals that you’ve taught yourself how to cook.

            “How do you feel about ending up here?” Torres is a curious one, you’re quickly learning.

            “I’m not over the moon about it but the food is better than what I was cooking for myself so, it’s not all bad.”

            As you answer questions and do your best to avoid making too much eye contact with anyone, to avoid reading into anyone’s thoughts or dropping your own thoughts into anyone else’s mind, Bucky stares. He watches you intently. You’re effortlessly charming, answering everyone’s questions with a shy smile and kind voice. He’s sure it’s a façade.

            Bucky’s cold stare and the fact that you happily pretend like you don’t feel his gaze on you is the reason why Sam, at the end of dinner, stands up and assigns the two of you to clean-up duty. If Bucky’s gone ahead and jumped to a conclusion about you based on a few flimsy pieces of intel and some grainy pictures, then Sam will give him the opportunity to confirm his suspicions with half an hour of alone time with you. Either he’ll come out of clean-up duty realizing he was wrong about you or he’ll come out of it with an earful for Sam.

            Fifteen minutes after everyone’s finished eating and gone their separate ways for the evening, you find yourself wiping down the dinner table with a wet cloth. Bucky is watching you from the open concept kitchen, where he stands in dim lighting, scrubbing dishes at the sink.

            “I can feel you staring.” You say evenly. Though your back is to him, you know his eyes are following your every move. He sets a soapy bowl down in the empty side of the sink and gets to work on another, still watching as you lean over the table and scrub over the wooden surface. He says nothing. Daring a glance over your shoulder at him, you catch sight of his blue eyes, cold and calculating as they stare right back at you. That’s the moment you feel it, a wall around him, around his mind. As you look into his eyes, you can’t get even the slightest reading on his feelings, on his thoughts. His mind is impenetrable.

            You quickly look away and continue wiping down the surface of the table. What the hell was that? You’ve never been around anyone you couldn’t read before. Bucky sets another soapy dish into the right side of the sink and lets his gaze fall away from you for a moment. Did you look into his thoughts? Did you see what most people see when they look at him? A monster, an uncontrollable killer? He’s patiently waiting for you to flee, to run and lock yourself in your room after analyzing whatever you just saw in his mind. However, different thought is crossing your mind. You want to try again, to get closer to him and get a better sense of the wall you felt around him. You push a couple of chairs into their rightful places beneath the table and then look over at Bucky again as he works on the dishes. His blue eyes meet yours once more and there it is again, that wall. Before you lose your boldness, you begin walking toward the kitchen, your feet carrying you closer and closer until you’re only a foot away from Bucky’s right side. He acts uninterested and his focus remains on a dirty dish and a sponge in his hands. Your eyes dart down to the sink and you notice the clean, soapy dishes in the side closest to you. Before you realize what you’re doing, your left arm is brushing against his right arm as you start rinsing the dishes beneath a steady stream of hot water. Bucky tenses next to you the moment the sleeve of your sweatshirt brushes over the skin of his bicep.

            “Are you scared of me?” You ask softly, keeping your eyes down on the suds that are running off of the bowl in your hand. You watch as they swirl around in the bottom of the sink before disappearing down the drain. Bucky scoffs and a low chuckle slips past his lips.

            “Scared isn’t the word I’d use.” He says coldly, passing you another dish to rinse.

            “Then why do you stare at me like that?” You question, matching his cold tone.

            “Like what?”

            “Like you think I’m going to try to get in your head.”

            “Haven’t you done that already?” Another dish is passed over to you. The hot water is turning your hands pink, and the frustrating interaction with such an unreasonably attractive ass is turning your cheeks the same color.

            “If I had, you would’ve known.” You point out, turning your head to look up at the side of his face. He doesn’t turn to meet your gaze at first, so you study his features. There’s a light stubble peppered along his lower face, over his jawline and chin. He looks young but something about him gives off more of an old soul vibe.

            “You don’t have enough control over your abilities to be able to read someone without them knowing?” His tone has shifted from a cold one to a condescending one.

            “I do, but I don’t care to put in any effort to hide it when I’m reading someone who already knows I can do it. I wouldn’t put in that kind of effort for you.” You retort. You’re unsure where exactly the animosity came from, but you feel it. It’s palpable in the air, the way the two of you already dislike each other. Bucky’s glad you’re returning the sentiment honestly. It’ll make it so much easier to ignore the fact that you’re fucking gorgeous. Gorgeous and pure poison.

---

            The update Fury left his house at four in the morning for wasn’t at all the update he was expecting. When his assistant called and told him that there was a new development with the girl he put up in the tower, the girl that HYDRA had experimented on and practically raised with the goal of having her become weapon of mass psychological destruction, he expected to hear that you’d done something apprehensible. Maybe you’d turned the other occupants of the tower against each other and caused a modern-day civil war, maybe you’d figured out a way to level the tower entirely, he had no idea. It wasn’t until five minutes ago when he finally slid into his office chair and viewed the new intel that he felt a bit of relief, and yet a new kind of stress. HYDRA wants you back.

---

            No one stays in the tower on the weekends. Sam heads off to see family, Wanda and Vision jet away for weekend stays seemingly anywhere but here, and even Torres has plans. You assume Bucky is gone too, considering you haven’t heard anyone else around since you last saw Sam leaving at sunset.

As you sit comfortably on the couch in the living area, wearing nothing but an oversized t-shirt and a pair of fuzzy socks, you feel almost at home for once. You’re flipping through the various movie options on Netflix when you hear the elevator ding and the doors begin sliding open. You freeze with your thumb hovering over the remote in your hand as your eyes slowly drift to the left. Bucky Barnes. Of course he doesn’t have any weekend plans. Why would he? The man is practically insufferable anytime he opens his mouth. He shoots you an uninterested look as he steps into the living area and starts pulling his leather jacket off.

Fuck. He’s the one freezing in place when his gaze floats down to your lap and he notices the skin of your thighs. He tosses his leather jacket onto the opposite side of the couch and narrows his eyes at you before moving toward the kitchen for a bottle of water.

“You don’t have pants?” He asks, his disdain for you evident in his tone.

“I was held in captivity for over a decade, what are pants?” He hates when you’re sarcastic.

“Fine, no pants. But you have a TV in your room, don’t you?” He wants you locked away in there where he won’t even have the chance to let his eyes betray the rest of him.

“Are you going to be here all weekend?” You turn your body so you can see him over the back of the couch. You lock eyes with him as he takes a gulp from his water bottle. He notices the way your gaze drifts downward, focusing on his lips for a brief moment before trailing even further down to the tight shirt he’s wearing.

“Yep.” He puts emphasis on the ‘p’ at the end of the small, simple word.

“Do you like movies?” An olive branch, you’re extending an olive branch. If you’re stuck with him as your only company for the next 48 hours, you sure as hell aren’t going to make it easy for him to hate you. Why make yourself any more miserable? In the event that it does that opposite and makes him hate you even more, you’ll still feel like you won.

            Your question caught Bucky off guard. You turn to face the TV once again and he watches as you use the remote to rifle through a category titled Action Movies.  

            “I prefer books.” He says flatly.

            “If you can get over yourself for two hours, you could watch something with me. It’s up to you.”

            You didn’t expect him to go for it, in fact, you don’t even know if you actually wanted him to. At first, you thought he rejected the offer. He scooped his leather jacket up off of the couch, shot you an unreadable sideways glance, and disappeared into his room, locking the door behind him. You’ve just decided on a movie when Bucky reappears, wearing black sweats and stupidly, only his dog tags adorning his chest. When he comes into view, your eyes immediately wander, taking in the entirety of his build. Fuck. How does someone who acts like such an ass end up looking like such a god? Bucky notices the way your gaze settles just above his waistband and he can’t stop the smirk that takes over his features.

            “You don’t have a shirt?” You ask, mimicking his tone from earlier.

            “I was held in captivity for decades, what is a shirt?” He didn’t quite mean to let you in on his past, but there it is. You sit before him stunned, your widened eyes dropping down to look over his vibranium arm with a new understanding. “You really haven’t been in my mind, have you?” You shake your head, still unsure of what to say to him. Bucky solves the issue at hand by taking a few more steps forward and sinking into the couch one cushion away from you. “What are we watching?”

---

            Shit goes sideways really fast in your life. You were only half an hour into the movie when the power suddenly went out and the dim emergency lights in the hallway kicked on. You and Bucky froze and looked at each other with a mix of confusion and anticipation, both of you feeling that something was off. It was less than a second later when Bucky heard the commotion in the elevator shaft and he knew exactly what was coming. He was on top of you in an instant, forcing your back down on the couch before rolling the both of you off and onto the floor. He managed a second roll once you landed on top of him on the hardwood, making sure that when the movement stopped, you were securely underneath him and his body was shielding yours. You watched his face as he seemed to move on autopilot, reaching up to the coffee table and breaking a glass vase with one hand before using the shards of glass to deter the two men rappelling in through the now blown-in elevator doors. It all happened so fast, seeming to begin and end in all under 10 seconds, before Bucky was shoving you down the hallway toward the emergency stairwell.

            He led you down four flights before pulling you through another metal door, into yet another dimly lit hallway. When you were both safely tucked away in a briefing room, he pulled his phone out of the pocket of his sweats and called Sam, setting it on speaker and placing the device on the table in the center of the room. Now you stand still, frozen, unsure of why you feel almost nothing. No fear, no concern, nothing. You simply feel like you have no control over anything and there’s nothing you can do to help or hurt the current situation. When Bucky grabs your wrist and pulls you toward the table, lifting you by your hips to sit you on top of it, you don’t resist.

            “Are you okay?” He asks hurriedly, scanning your entire body with his eyes as his hands cup your cheeks and tilt your head from side to side. He’s looking for any sign of injury, but there’s nothing. “Say something.”

            “Bucky? What’s going on?” Sam’s voice rings out from the phone on the table, snapping you out of whatever silent haze you were in.

            “The tower’s been breached, we need to get out of here, now.” Bucky responds tersely. He still holds your face in his hands. You blink a few times, coming back to your senses, before looking up into his eyes. Relief. You see relief soaking into his features as he realizes you’re fine. “You’re okay?” He needs to hear you say it. You nod slowly, his palms brushing over your cheeks as you do.

            “I’m good, I’m okay.” You whisper.

            “Can you get down to the garage?” Sam questions. You can hear the sounds of him typing through the phone, probably sending out an alert to everyone he can.

            “We’ll figure out a way to.” Bucky assures him.

            “I’ll send you an address for a safehouse, you take her there and you stay put. Let me know when you get into a car. Fury says a strike team is already on the way.”

            So much for living in the tower being the way to keep you safe.

---

            You wouldn’t have expected such a broad, muscular guy to be so stealthy. Bucky got the two of you down to the garage and into a car in what you imagine was record-breaking time. It truly would’ve been a feat if he’d managed to get back upstairs and grab you some pants or himself a shirt as well, but you can see how that wasn’t really an option.

            You sit in the passenger seat now, using his phone to text Sam and let him know that you made it out safe and are on the way to the address he sent. It’s quiet in the car for a couple of minutes, the only sounds being the tires against the road and a light rain coming down on the windshield as Bucky speeds down a dark highway. You set his phone in a cupholder by the gearshift before placing your hands on your still bare thighs. In this moment, you wish you could read into Bucky’s thoughts. What’s going on in his head? Does he have any idea who those men might’ve been? What they might’ve been there for? You don’t want to come across as conceited or self-centered but you’re pretty damn sure they were there for you, most likely on behalf of HYDRA. Maybe if you could read into his thoughts, he’d have a different suspicion and it would ease your growing anxiety.

            “Is that the first time the tower’s ever been breached?” Your voice comes out too soft, too meek for your own liking. Bucky lets out a deep breath before relaxing in the driver’s seat. He wanted to hear your voice more than he realized.

            “As far as I know, yeah.” He says with a nod, keeping his eyes on the road ahead. That isn’t quite what you wanted to hear. Maybe something along the lines of oh no, it happened a hundred times before you moved in would’ve made you feel better. Bucky doesn’t like the quiet that takes over the car after he gives you his answer. It feels tense, and not your typical can’t-stand-each-other kind of tense. “There are a million different reasons they could’ve been there.” He knows what you’re thinking, that they were more than likely there for you.

            “You don’t have to try and make me feel better.” Your voice isn’t so soft anymore.

            “You think they were there for you.”

            “It makes the most sense, HYDRA has never really been known to let shit go.”

            “I know.” He says it so emotionlessly but the way the realization settles on your shoulders is anything but. You feel what can only be described as a fist wrapping around your heart and squeezing it. He knows. He knows about HYDRA, he knows how they operate. He knows because he’s been through their shit, probably even more intensely than you.

            “I don’t have any pants.” You mumble, pushing away the heavy topic of the most heinous organization that you know to exist. Bucky chuckles under his breath as he steers the car around a curve. He finds you annoyingly likable for someone he’s intent on hating.

            When you pull up to the safehouse forty-five minutes later, you’re more than relieved to see that though it’s a very small cabin on the outskirts of a national park, there are two bedrooms. After checking in with Sam on the phone, you leave Bucky in the living room while you wander down the short hallway, trying to decide which bedroom you’ll be calling your own tonight.

            “Did you take me off of speaker?” Sam asks Bucky in a hushed tone, praying you’re out of earshot. Bucky sinks into the couch and pinches the bridge of his nose with the index finger and thumb of his vibranium hand.

            “Yeah, what’s up?”

            “She was the target tonight. HYDRA wants her back. They don’t want her dead, they want her back.”

            “And you didn’t want to say this to her?” Bucky asks in a whisper.

            “She probably has PTSD from what they did to her all of those years, there’s no sense in upsetting her if we don’t have to yet. For now, as long as she’s safe with you, we don’t have to tell her.” Sam explains quickly. Bucky can hear the din of an airport coming through the phone speaker. Sam’s trying his best to get back to New York on short notice, which tells Bucky it’s definitely serious.

            “She already has her suspicions.” Bucky points out. He glances over his shoulder and down the hall, just as you’re stepping out of one bedroom and into the next.

            “Just…don’t let her out of your sight. At all.”

            Bucky stays seated on the couch for a few seconds after hanging up the call with Sam. His mind is speed running through the various outcomes of this whole situation. There’s a chance HYDRA already knows about the safehouse and they’re planning to hit it sometime tonight. There’s a chance HYDRA doesn’t know shit about where the two of you are right now and you’re safe at least while you’re here. There’s a chance you get pissed at Bucky and climb out a window in the middle of the night. Fuck. How did he end up being the one here with you?

            You’re rummaging through a dresser in the largest bedroom at the back of the cabin when Bucky taps his knuckles on the already open door and steps in. You’re on your knees, digging through the bottom drawer, with your hair falling forward and obscuring your face from him. His eyes follow every move you make as you tuck the hair behind your ear and glance over at him.

            “Is this where you’re sleeping?” He asks, tilting his head in the direction of the queen-sized bed. You follow his gaze, taking in the thin blue quilt and sad, flat looking pillows. You nod slowly.

            “Yeah.” You respond, pushing the drawer shut and rising to your feet. You were looking for an extra pair of pants but the dresser only seemed to hold various extra blankets, sheets, and towels. Bucky nods, his eyes drifting back to the bed as if he’s deep in thought. When he tosses his phone onto the bed, you narrow your eyes at him. “I said I’m taking this one.”

            “We both are.” He says defiantly, taking a step further into the room before closing the bedroom door behind him. He fishes the car keys out of his pocket and drops them on top of the dresser before heading for the bed.

            “What the hell does that mean? There are two rooms, two beds. There isn’t a chance in hell we’re sleeping together.” You cross your arms over your chest, shaking your head aggressively. You watch him as he starts pulling the covers back on the far side of the bed.

            “You just told me that you think those men were there for you. If you’re right, those guys were able to breach the equivalent of a maximum-security prison on steroids. And you want to sleep alone? In a room with a window?” He questions you as if he doesn’t already know that those men were most definitely there for you. He sees hesitation in your eyes, and he knows he’s got you there. You crave safety, security. You won’t fight him very hard on this and he knows it.

            ��I’m not wearing any pants.” As soon as the sentence leaves your mouth, you’re aware that you sound like a damn kid. A whiny kid.

            “I’ll give you my pants if you shut up about it already.” Bucky promises. He stands next to the bed, with his hands firmly on his hips, waiting to see what your next move will be.

            “Fine, give me your pants and I’ll suffer through the night.”

            “In this bed?” He gestures toward it with his vibranium hand. You nod. “Say it.”

            “In this bed.” You agree, with every bit of a bad attitude brimming your tone.

            It’s not long after that that you find yourself wearing another man’s baggy sweats as you lay mere inches away from him. He’s close enough that you can feel his body heat warming the space beneath the covers, but not so close that there’s a threat of bodily contact.

            Bucky’s wide awake beside you. He’s watching in the darkness as the quilt over your side rises up and then drops down again with every inhale and exhale. He usually has trouble sleeping, but knowing exactly who’s after you and what they’re capable of is giving him even more trouble.

            “Are you still awake?” You whisper almost inaudibly. You’re facing away from Bucky so you didn’t notice the way he’s been staring at your back, watching you breathe.

            “Yeah.” You’re silent for quite a few seconds after his response, but he knows your mind is working overtime. “What?”

            “Nothing, I was just wondering.” Another minute of silence goes by before you roll onto your back and heave a deep sigh. Bucky waits patiently. He counts the seconds as they go by. One. Two. Three. Four. F— “If you weren’t there tonight—”

            “Don’t think about that.” He warns. His eyes coast over the side of your face. He can see the worry, the stress playing on your features.

            “But if you weren’t, I would’ve ended right back where I was.” You voice trembles in the slightest, and you hope he doesn’t notice it. He notices. Bucky’s fists clench beneath the bedsheets.

            “You don’t even know if it was them, or if they were after you.” You roll over to face him now and he can see the tears gathering in your eyes, glinting in the moonlight from the window.

            “I know.” You say assuredly, without a trace of doubt behind your words. Bucky knows he can’t lie to you, he can’t convince you that you didn’t nearly end up back in HYDRA’s clutches tonight. He can’t lie to you, and he won’t.

            “Do you feel safe right now? Here?” He asks, his tone softer than you’ve ever heard it before. You search his face before answering with a small nod. “Focus on that. Don’t work yourself up over what could’ve happened. Just rest tonight and we’ll figure it out in the morning.”

            “I’m already worked up, I can’t sleep.”

            “I gave you my pants for you to lie here all night and not sleep?” He asks jokingly. You move your leg under the covers and kick his shin lightly. When you start to pull your leg back to your side of the bed, something stops you.

            “Do you want them back?” You offer. Bucky raises an eyebrow at you, unsure of where you’re going with this. It’s as if the playfulness of the moment is erasing the fear and stress in your mind, so you go with it. “I’ll give them back.”

            “So, all of that complaining about not having pants was what? An attempt to get me out of mine?” Bucky teases. He props his head up on one hand over his pillow, a smirk tugging on the corners of his lips.

            “You gave in pretty easily, didn’t you? I think you wanted to take them off.” You retort, nudging his leg with yours again. Bucky licks his bottom lip as he gauges the tension growing between the two of you. Is this what you do to help you fall asleep? To test the waters, he places a hand right above the knee of the leg you keep nudging him with. It’s as if his touch sets off an electric spark, you feel it dancing from your knee all the way up to your chest and then right back down. The feeling settles between your legs.

            “I was doing you a favor.” He rasps, rubbing light circles on your leg with his thumb. “And I was trying to shut you up.” Silence is becoming familiar between the two of you. You look at him for a long moment, mesmerized by the way his thumb is circling against the fabric of the sweats that he gave you. You find yourself staring first into his eyes, and then at his lips. You’d ask yourself what the hell you’re thinking but, let’s be honest: you’re not thinking.

            “Would you do me one more favor?”

            “What’s that?” Bucky asks as his hand inches a bit further up your thigh.

            “Shut me up.”

---

            There are a thousand reasons Bucky can think of to not be doing exactly what he’s doing right now. A thousand reasons to not be sucking on your bottom lip and grinding his erection against your clothed cunt. Maybe even a thousand and one reasons not to be absolutely fucking loving every second of it. But every filthy little moan and whimper that graces his ears only spurs him on. He’s doing you a favor, right?

            “This isn’t really shutting you up.” You can feel his smirk against the skin of your neck as he slows the movement of his hips and begins grinding against you at a tortuously useless pace. “Maybe we should try it with the sweats out of the way, see if that shuts you up.”

            “Yeah, that’s an idea.” The words come out breathlessly. You place your hands against Bucky’s shoulders and push him off of you. He returns to his side of the bed, trying to calm himself down as you lay beside him and shimmy out of his sweats. As far as he knows, that’s all you’re taking off. But in a moment of boldness, you decided to speed things up a bit and take your panties off with them. When you glance over and see him lying on his back, with the moonlight highlighting the sweat that glistens over the ridges of his abs, all you can think about is him. Being on him, being under him, you need him. He looks back at you with a daring look and you’re sold, you’re straddling his hips, hovering right over his boxers in an instant.

            Bucky’s breath hitches in his throat when his flesh palm lands against your hip, just beneath the fabric of your t-shirt, and he only feels skin. Where’s the waistband of your panties? You see the surprise on his face as he grips your hips tighter, keeping you from sitting down and fulling straddling him.

            “I thought I said try it with the sweats out of the way.” He tsks playfully. You have no idea how badly he wants to rip his boxers off and plunge his cock so deep inside you that you scream.

            “Oops, I must’ve misheard you.” Your mischievous smile makes his cock harden that last little bit, and he can feel the way his balls begin aching to be emptied. He fucking hates you for making him feel this way.

            “I should’ve known that being a good girl and listening wasn’t going to be your thing.” He says with a shake of his head. You’re about to say something else teasing and sarcastic when Bucky’s fingers dig into your hips sharply, surely leaving bruises, and he forces you to sit down across the hard shaft of his cock. Your wet cunt instantly soaks the fabric of his boxers and within two seconds, he can feel how wet you really are for him. For him. He hates you. He hates you. He hates you. He has to remind himself repeatedly as you begin circling your hips, because he fears he’s quickly forgetting that fact. You grind down with a little more pressure and he can feel a bead of precum slipping down the head of his cock. A soft groan slips out of him and he starts pushing your t-shirt up higher and higher until he’s pulling it over your head. The pale moonlight is just enough to let him see your bare chest and again, he’s chanting in his head. He hates you. He’s just doing this to make you feel better, to get your mind off of the HYDRA shit so you can sleep tonight. That’s all it is, right? A favor. As you lean down and start kissing and sucking on the skin of his neck, he feels your fingertips slowly dragging his boxers down by the waistband. He hates you.

            At some point, Bucky helped you get his boxers all the way down his legs and he kicked them off and away until they were lost beneath the mess of sheets and blankets atop the bed. When your hand fisted around his cock the first time, he rutted into your hand without meaning to. It was like instinct. You wrapped your fist around him a little tighter and pressed your lips against his in a desperate kiss as he thrusted into your hand a second time, letting his precum wet your palm and then using it as lube. You would’ve been satisfied letting him fuck your hand, honestly. You probably could’ve orgasmed just from that experience alone, but you didn’t need him knowing you were that easy for him. That’s what got you to where you are now,

            “I hate you.” You lie straight through your teeth as you drag your cunt back and forth along the length of his cock. Every time the head of it rubs against your clit, Bucky can feel your thighs tremble on either side of him and he’s fighting the urge to bend you over the bed and ruin you.

            “I hate you too.” He lies right back. When you look into each other’s eyes, you both know there isn’t much truth coming from either of your mouths. “Sit on my cock.”

            Never have you ever been one to listen when a man tells you what to do, until this moment, with Bucky Barnes. He watches as you position the head of his cock just right at your entrance. You’d think a man would want to watch as his entire length disappears inside of you, but no. Bucky looks up at your face as soon as the tip notches inside you. He watches with heavy breaths and groans falling from his lips as your mouth forms a perfect ‘o’ shape and your eyes scrunch closed at the way your walls stretch to fit him in.

            “That’s it, don’t stop until you take it all.” Filthy. He’s fucking filthy. And you listen to every word he says, sinking down until you feel his balls pressing firmly against your ass. “Shit.” When he finally tears his eyes away from your face and gets a look at where you’re so deeply connected, he can’t fucking stand it. It’s too much and not enough all at the same time. “You have to move.” He groans, slipping his flesh hand further back from your hip to grab your ass.

            “I can’t.” You whimper, leaning forward and bracing your hands on the mattress, on either side of his head.

            “Move or get off of my cock.” You’d almost be offended if you didn’t know that he’s saying that because he’s close to blowing his load in you too early. You can feel the way his balls are tightening against your ass and you know he’s desperate. So, you try. You lift yourself up one single inch, and then slide back down. Then two inches, then back down. You repeat it over and over slowly, building up a rhythm as your own pleasure begins to grow. “Fuck, maybe you’re a good listener after all.”

            “Stop talking.” You moan out, picking up the pace. You’re fully fucking his cock now, your bodies making obscene sounds as skin slaps against skin repeatedly. “I hate you.”

            “Yeah, hate me a little more and see what that gets you.” He taunts, squeezing your ass with both hands and using his grasp there to help guide the up and down movement of your hips. You’re close and truthfully, you don’t even want to tell him.

            The trouble really starts when he moves his flesh hand to your lower stomach and presses his thumb against your clit, offering a delicious friction there as you ride his dick. The increase in pleasure makes it even harder to think straight. You’re not thinking straight in the slightest when you move your hands to his chest, not paying attention to the fact that you have one hand over his heart.

            “I’m close.” You whimper, earning you another squeeze of your ass with his vibranium hand and a bit more pressure against your clit. Your eyes are shut tightly as you focus on the feeling of his cock dragging along your walls and the tip of it nearing your cervix with every snap of your hips.

            When you open your eyes and look down at him, his blue eyes flit up to meet yours and that’s when you realize the mistake you’ve made. He starts rubbing circles against your clit the moment your eyes meet, sending you over the edge. Your orgasm crashes in like a tidal wave, sweeping and relentless. With your hands on Bucky’s bare chest and your eyes locked, you lose the last shred of control you have, the last morsel of control over your abilities slips from your grasp. He feels it. Bucky feels every bit of pleasure that’s coursing through your body, he feels every thought in your mind, he hears your inner voice screaming for him. In the heat of the moment, you pour every sensation that you’re feeling straight into Bucky’s nervous system.

            He can’t even speak as his orgasm hits ten times harder than it ever has before. He knows it’s coming from the eye contact and your hand on his chest, he can feel the uncharacteristic coolness beneath your palm that rests over his heart. It’s why he clamps his own hand over yours on his chest and uses his vibranium arm to wrap around your back and pull you down against him. As Bucky’s cum paints your walls, filling you so full that it starts dripping down his shaft, he can’t stop thrusting up into you. He can’t stop. He doesn’t want to stop.

            “Bucky, I’m…” You suck in a deep breath as you collapse on his chest, though he keeps your hand anchored over his heart. “I’m full, I can’t…” He shushes you as he continues pushing his cock up into your pussy. He slows but doesn’t stop.

            “Don’t move.” He’s begging. Though his tone doesn’t sound like it, he’s fully aware that that’s what he’s doing. You haven’t fully caught your breath yet, but a soft laugh leaves your lips.

            “Move or get off of my cock.” You repeat his earlier words playfully.

            “I hate you.”

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