#they don’t teach us fucking anything they just give us the tasks and say good luck what the fuck am i meant to do???????

[roastedinmarch]

.

#i fucking hate my university course so much i hate my programming unit #they don’t teach us fucking anything they just give us the tasks and say good luck what the fuck am i meant to do??????? #i would love to learn a new programming language that’s why i’m taking the fucking unit but they don’t teach us anything #how am i supposed to just figure it out???? #last trimester there were actual videos walking you through how to plan out a program and implement everything #idk maybe i’m just stupid but god i’m so sick of this unit #like i’m reading through other peoples work on github and it’s got all these random methods in there like #how the fuck am i supposed to know i need read integer and read line methods??? it’s not in the task sheet or the workbook #i think maybe im just dumb but god i want to kill myself over this shit #im doing fine in my other units it’s just the only one that relates to the career i might want to go into #how the hell am i going to be employed if i can’t complete first year uni tasks by myself #he speaks

[rentsturner]

If you’ve a lesson to teach me… - AT

professor!alex turner x fem!reader

Warnings: established student/teacher relationship, smut, spanking (with a riding crop), oral (male receiving), tiny bit of face fucking, bdsm undertones, unprotected piv sex, sir kink, alex has tattoos, aftercare, teensy bit of angst but lots of fluff, cuddling.

A/n: this is from a request where reader gets a bad grade and Alex ‘punishes’ her. It’s very smutty, but there’s fluff at the end I promise. Thank you as always to my bestie @martinipoliz who wrote like 25% of this fic and is always putting up with me and my moods, couldn’t do it without her. As always, if you don’t like it, don’t read it :)

Today is the day.

The day that you’ve been dreading all week and wishing it wouldn’t come, but it still has.

Last month, Alex gave your class a task which was due last week, and you had barely submitted it on time. Three minutes before the deadline, you were just so relieved that you finished the essay, but not without receiving a disapproving look from Alex as he took the paper from your hands.

To say that you’re nervous about your grade would be an understatement.

You’re fucking terrified.

It was unlike anything Alex had ever given before, and you’re not going to deny that you did struggle a bit coming to terms with some of the subject matter, so that it took you way too long to finally understand it, and even longer to come up with sentences that didn’t sound like absolute dogshit.

You had even tried asking Alex to maybe help you in some parts but then immediately backtracked when he gave you a stern stare that meant you can do this yourself, and so you accepted your fate and gave everything you could and hoped for a miracle.

And who are you kidding? That miracle did not happen.

Because the essay lands on your desk, a large red B- staring up at you, and suddenly getting swallowed by the ground doesn’t sound too bad at the moment.

For you, a B- isn't necessarily bad, but it’s not as good as you usually do. And you know for certain that Alex is not happy with it, by the way he sighs as he hands you the paper and looks down at you pointedly. He taps the ‘B-’ with one long finger.

“Not quite up to your usual standard, sweetheart.” he mutters, quiet enough just for you to hear, and your ears turn red in embarrassment.

And then he’s off, hurriedly handing out the rest of the papers and giving praise to other students, and your heart sinks. To top it all off, you hear him saying “good job, darling,” to the girl sitting at the front while you got nothing. Not even a mere good job too.

You rifle through the pages of your essay, reading Alex’s comments written in red pen. Most of them are constructive criticism, things that you can improve on quite easily, except for the note at the bottom of the page: ‘SEE ME AFTER CLASS’.

You sit through the rest of the class nervously, hands fidgeting, struggling to keep still. Alex notices your restlessness and sends you a stern look from the front of the class. Your stomach twists and clenches just thinking about what he might have planned for you, it’s making you hot and bothered just thinking about it, as well as incredibly nervous.

Alex has talked about punishment before, it’s come up a few times in the relationship that you’ve been having for the past four months. He’s rather very good at communicating and negotiating stuff with you, telling you to be open to him without feeling any shame, and you did.

You told him about the things you wanted to try out and he listened, nodded, indulged your fantasies without making you feel judged or walking on eggshells. Your confession ranged from giving him full authority over you during sex, to negotiating what kind of punishments you’d be comfortable with when you misbehaved. It seems that conversation will be coming in useful now.

Finally, Alex wraps up the class and dismisses the other students. You slowly pack up your notes and pens, waiting patiently for everyone else to filter out the class before making your way to Alex’s desk.

He’s piling up his papers, the sleeves of his white dress shirt neatly rolled up to the elbows.

When your shadow crosses over his desk, he looks up at you. His eyes are soft, but you can tell he’s disappointed.

“I know it was a hard paper, but I did expect better from you, darling.”

“I tried, Al, I promise, I just -”

“Maybe you need a reminder of how hard you should be working. You don’t get to coast in this class just because you’re fucking me. Handing it in with 3 minutes to go wasn’t acceptable either.” He raises his eyebrow at you before going back to stacking his papers.

You stay quiet, guilt and embarrassment rolling in your stomach. He’s right. You’re usually better than this, maybe you have taken your foot off the pedal the last few weeks. It wasn’t like you to hand in papers late, or struggle to write about a subject that you love. But you had been tired recently, it was getting to that time of year where everyone starts to burn out, you included.

Alex seems to notice your silence. He stops messing with his papers and places one hand on your shoulder, brushing his thumb gently along your skin.

“Look, I am a little disappointed in you, darling, and I admit that I expected better. But don’t mistake my disappointment as me being mad, because it’s different. If I was mad at you, I would’ve already bent you over this desk.” He chuckles at that, and you manage to crack a smile too, a jolt of electricity running through you from the thoughts that that comment incites.

“But, this is just me reminding you that just because I’m your boyfriend, that doesn’t make me any less of your teacher.” Alex squeezes your shoulder and you nod at him, understanding what he’s saying. Because he’s right, Alex is still your teacher, and you want to impress him with your work, not coast through his class.

Alex continues marking papers for a bit while you do some revision, taking your usual spot at the end of his desk. He notices you yawning and losing focus after a while, so he offers to order you an Uber back to his flat. You’re practically living at Alex’s place at the moment, half of your clothes and toiletries are there, and it’s a lot easier to go to and from school from his.

Alex walks you to the pick up point, one hand planted protectively on the small of your back - he’s planning to stay on campus for a little longer to finish marking, as he wants you all to himself when he gets home later.

When the Uber arrives, he grabs the door for you, ushering you into the car while he whispers, “I expect you to be naked and kneeling by the bed when I get back. If not, then you’d find yourself in more trouble than you already are.”

You shiver a little at his words, suspecting there would be some element of punishment involved tonight, but now that Alex has confirmed it, you’re incredibly excited. This is something you’ve wanted for a while, and obviously you didn’t want to do badly on your paper, but maybe something good can come out of it…

When you arrive at Alex’s flat, you manage to have a quick nap in an attempt to calm your nerves.

An hour later, you’re kneeling on the floor, ready and waiting. Your skin is coming out in goosebumps, partly from the cool air on your bare skin, partly from the anticipation of Alex arriving home. You rub your thighs together, trying to create some friction to ease the ache in your cunt. The sound of the door opening and then slamming shut startles you a little, your stomach dropping in excitement as you realise Alex is finally back. You hear him drop his bags in the hallway, then his long strides echo through the house as he makes his way up to the bedroom. The suspense is killing you now, you're practically shaking as you wait in your kneeling position for him. You just hope he’s impressed.

The door swings open and Alex enters, a smirk growing as he takes you in, naked and kneeling for him. You swear you see his pupils dilate, his hands clenched into fists at his side.

“What a sight to see, really,” he comments, leaning down fully and pressing both of his hands on his knees to meet your eyes. “If only I get to see this every day I come home. Would you mind it, darling? Would you mind if I ask you to be in this exact position every day, naked and vulnerable, waiting for your Sir like a good girl?”

You shake your head, then open your mouth to speak. “I wouldn’t, sir.”

“Good. Because it’d be such a shame if you do,” Alex flashes you a smile, leaning forward to peck your lips. “But let’s not forget why you’re currently here in that position now, yeah? Can you tell me? Tell me the reason why I’m punishing you, wanna hear you say it.”

“I –” your lips quiver, gulping down hard. “Because I got a B- on my paper, sir.”

“That’s right,” he nods, now standing up straight and fixing his posture. “And what am I gonna do to you exactly?”

“Straighten me out?”

Alex laughs softly at your reply, bringing one of his hands up to pet your hair gently. It’s a small gesture yet still manages to make your stomach erupt with butterflies. “Not the words I would use, but sure, darling – I’ll straighten you out.”

Alex quickly discards his suit jacket and rolls up his sleeves, exposing his arms. You feel yourself gush just looking at them, the veins snaking across his pale skin, marred only by the intricate tattoos extending from his wrists up into the sleeves of his shirt. You think about how the patterns curl around his shoulders, spreading into wings across his back, how you trace them so gently when he’s sleeping, admiring the beauty of him.

Alex interrupts your thoughts, opening his wardrobe and rummaging around in there for a bit. You squirm with anticipation, having no idea what your boyfriend might have planned for you, only knowing that it’s going to be intense.

Alex turns round to face you, a menacing grin plastered across his face, and your eyes are immediately drawn to the object in his hands – a long, slim riding crop, the end a double fold of stiff leather. Your eyes widen, your heart racing as you watch Alex tap the end against his hand.

“What do you think of this, baby? Think you can take it?”

You nod again, but Alex needs more this time��

“Need your words for this, love. What’s your colour?”

“G–Green, sir, so green, please.”

Alex smirks. He takes a few strides so he’s standing over you, stroking your hair gently, and you can’t help but nuzzle into his palm.

“On the bed, baby. You know what to do.”

He points the crop to the king sized bed behind you, following you as you stretch your stiff legs and make your way over. You sink slowly onto the soft mattress, knowing exactly what position Alex wants you in – ass up, face down. You stretch your arms out in front of you to support your head and try to relax your thighs, presenting your bare cunt and ass to Alex. You can hear his breathing quicken as he takes you in – he’s just as excited as you are.

“I want you to count these out for me, okay?”

“Yes, sir.”

You feel the bed dip behind you as Alex takes his position, then hear the swoop of the riding crop through the air, then a burning sensation on your left ass cheek. God it hurts, but it feels so good at the same time, sending a jolt right to your cunt as you cry out.

“One, sir.”

He lands another one on your other cheek, you whimper as the burn spreads across your skin, and manage to whisper out a ‘Two, s- -sir.”

“Colour?”

“Green, please keep going Al – Sir, more please.”

Seems like Alex doesn’t like the way you accidentally addressed him by his name, and so two more quick swats land on your cheeks in quick succession. You bite into the pillow, feeling the tears welling up as you muffle your scream. It fucking burns. You’ve always been so used to his hands spanking you but never leather.

“Forgotten how to count already, princess?”

“No – no, Sir, just –” you sniffle, swallowing down the sob threatening to spill. “Three a–and four.”

“What’s that? Let me hear you –” he pauses, you try to look back in confusion, but before you can see what he’s up to, he’s already bringing the riding crop for another lash on your ass – much harder than the last four. “– say it fucking louder!”

“Five!” You scream, burying your face into the mattress and pulling your lower torso away from the sheer pain, but Alex places his hand on your waist to pull you back closer. “F–Five, Sir, that’s – that’s five, please, it hurts –”

“Does it?” Alex mocks. “You know deep down in yourself that you deserve it, so count properly unless you want me to bring the number up.”

You can’t bring yourself up to speak since you’re already shuddering from your sobs, your skin burning in pain, just adding to the overwhelming pleasure coursing through you. It was so much, all at once.

You took 5 more strokes from Alex, forcing out the number and a thank you each time, until the 10th blow had you collapsing onto the bed, shuddering and crying.

“Alright, I think that’s enough, yeah, baby?”

Alex places one hand on the small of your back, rubbing up and down your skin in an effort to calm your shaking form.

“You did so well, baby, I’m proud of you.”

Alex’s voice is softer now, and you suspect you’ve got past the worst of the punishment. His words fill you with warmth, and you nod and hiccup into the duvet, reaching one hand back to grab at Alex’s. He intertwines your fingers, letting you find comfort in him for a few moments.

“Good girl. But we aren’t done yet. Need you to make me feel good.”

You roll over, wincing as your raw ass rubs a little on the sheets. You aren’t going to be able to sit down for a few days, that’s for sure.

Alex shuffles to the end of bed and sits back on his heels, beckoning for you to come over, a growing bulge glaring obvious in his navy pants.

You crawl over to Alex, swaying your hips seductively as you move, knowing it will just turn him on even more.

You unbuckle his belt and pull down his fly, your hands shaking a little in your eagerness to please Alex. You’re practically drooling at the thought of his thick cock in your mouth. His fingers card through your hair, gathering it into a ponytail in one hand. He pulls your head back a little from his grip on your hair, until you’re looking up at him. His eyes are dark, pupils blown from anticipation, his chest heaving up and down under his shirt. God, you wish you could just rip the white fabric off him, run your hands over his shoulders and chest, feel the solid muscle under his smooth, pale skin.

“Slow down, baby, we’ve got all night, yeah?”

You nod your head, taking a few deep breaths before tugging on Alex’s boxers. He helps you pull them down, his cock slipping out, already thick and hard, a dribble of pre-cum leaking from the swollen tip. You wrap one hand around his length, feeling his velvety skin under your fingertips. Alex’s deep groan fills the room as you drop your head to lick slowly along the underside of his cock. His grip tightens on your hair as you suckle gently on the tip, tasting the saltiness of his precum when you flick your tongue over his head. He sucks in a harsh breath, pulling on your hair.

“Don’t tease me now, darling, you’ll just make it worse for yourself.”

You smirk, giving him your best doe eyes, before ducking your head down to try and take him fully into your mouth, feeling his tip hitting the back of your throat and trying to swallow down a gag. You wrap your hand around his base, pumping what you can’t fit in your mouth. You continue looking up at Alex, his face blurring as a film of tears cloud over your eyes.

Alex groans, the deep sound going straight to your cunt and you try to rub your thighs together for a bit of friction, but Alex is quick to put a stop to that.

“Uh uh, darling, none of that. You can have your pleasure when I’m done, alright?”

You just whine around his cock, bobbing your head and taking as much of him as you can. There’s drool dripping down your chin and tears slowly spilling from your eyes. Even after numerous tries, you don’t think there will be a day in your life where you can fully take his whole nine inches down your throat without choking yourself to death – but whatever, that’s one good way to die.

“Fuck – so good baby, so good to me.” Alex pants, hand fisting your hair roughly as his hips buck against your mouth. You choke a little at the action and your own hands go to grip his thighs for support, a trail of spit dripping down your chin and onto the floor as the fat head of his cock hits the back of your throat again. “Yeah, darling, fucking choke on it – take it all, fucking take it all like the good girl you are –”

You moan at his words, feeling his cock throb in your mouth, so hot and heavy on your tongue. He’s close, you can tell, so you hollow your cheeks and suckle fervently on his length, getting Alex to his climax the only thing on your mind. Alex growls and you feel a tug on your hair as he pulls you off his cock, and you peer up at him, confused. A string of saliva still connects your lips to his cock and you can see it twitching in front of your face.

“Want to come in your cunt, darling.” Alex declares in between pants.

You nod your head eagerly. “Please, sir, want your cock, please.”

Alex nods, pushing you back until you’re lying back on the soft pillows. He grabs your wrists and puts them above your head. “These stay here, okay?”

You nod again, although you're desperate to touch Alex, you know it's better to do what he says. The cuddling can come later.

Alex drapes himself over your body, the fabric of his trousers brushing against your skin as he nudges your thighs apart, his hand dropping down to spread your folds.

“Fuck, baby, so wet for me, you just fucking love getting punished, don’t you?” One long finger flicks over your clit, spreading your slick over your hot skin. He’s right, you're soaked, a result of the spanking and having his cock in your mouth, so ready for him to have his way with you. And so is he, you can feel his hard cock pressing against your leg, still sticky from a mix of your saliva and Alex’s precum. You moan as Alex’s two fingers press roughly into your cunt, scissoring and pressing against your walls, trying to find that special spot inside you.

“You’re lucky I’m giving you some prep, baby, bad girls don’t get stretched out before they take my cock. But you’ve done well for me so far, so I’m gonna be generous.” Alex pants into your ear, his hot breath causing goosebumps to spread across your skin.

He pulls his fingers out, bringing them up to his mouth and sucking on them. Your eyes widen as his face contorts in bliss, licking all of your juices off of his digits. His eyelashes flutter as he looks down at you, his eyes are dark, lust completely overtaking any semblance of reason.

“Gonna fuck you now, darling.”

You both groan in unison as Alex nudges his cock against your clit, grabbing himself at the base to push slowly inside of you. Despite how wet you are, and the few moments Alex spent stretching you out, there’s still a sharp burn as your walls try to accommodate his girth. He’s hot and heavy, throbbing inside of you, and you swear you can feel every ridge and vein as he slowly bottoms out.

Your whole body is trembling, your eyes rolling back into your head, the feeling of Alex so deep inside you almost enough to send you over the edge right there and then. You clench your fists, trying to keep your hands in the position you left them in, fighting the urge to rip Alex’s shirt off and scratch your nails down his back.

“Look at me, baby, look at me while I’m fucking you.” Alex practically growls, grabbing your chin in his hand and turning your face to him.

“Please move, Al- Sorry, Sir, please move.” The feeling of being full is so overwhelming, you need him to move or you might just combust.

Alex just smirks. “I really don’t think you're in any position to be making demands right now, darling. Remember why you’re here, yeah?”

You just whine and nod your head submissively, trying to keep your gaze on his. He lets you suffer for a few moments before finally moving his hips. He pulls out until just his tip is left snug in your hole, then slams his hip back forwards. You scream as his cock drags along your walls, his pelvis rubbing against your clit and his balls slapping against your still raw ass. Within seconds, the fire in your belly is reignited and you can feel yourself approaching your orgasm. You feel like you've been on the edge the whole night, and now, finally, you might get your release.

Alex pounds into you, his face buried in the crook of your neck, his gasps and moans coming in time with his thrusts. You can feel the sweat dripping down his brow onto your chest, the fabric of his shirt rubbing roughly against your nipples. You’re desperate to touch him, to run your hands over his shoulder, his neck, his hair, and you can’t hold it back anymore.

“Please, sir, p–please can I touch you? Please, I need to.”

Alex lifts his head from your neck, one sweaty lock of hair falling over his forehead as he looks down at you. “Oh really? You think you’ve been good enough to touch me?”

“Y–Yes, please, I’ve been a good girl, I have.”

Alex shakes his head. “I don’t think so. Good girls don’t get bad grades, do they?”

You’re truly on the edge now, can feel your orgasm approaching like a runaway train, and you squeeze your eyes shut to try to fend it off, not wanting to come without your arms around Alex.

“You close, baby? Gonna come for me?”

You shake your head desperately. “Please, sir, need to touch you, please.”

“You wanna touch me?” Alex smirks, breathing hard as he drives his cock even deeper, loving the way your walls clench around his length everytime he hits that special spot that never fails to make you fucking shake. “If you wanna touch me, you better cum around my cock and maybe I’ll think about it.”

Now that’s something that’s not very difficult to do. With a sniffle and a loud whimper, you crack open your teary eyes and look at him. He’s watching you very carefully. One of the few things you’ve noticed at the start of your relationship is that he never takes his eyes off of you when you’re cumming – whether it’s around his cock or his fingers or even his mouth, his eyes will always find their way to look at your face as you crumble down from both his generosity and cruelty.

Your vision tunnels to just Alex’s face, his dark eyes, long lashes, pale skin, the little scar under his brow, and you come. The emotions of the past few hours finally catch up with you and you shake and shudder under Alex, clenching and milking him for all he’s worth. He groans and his hips stutter as he reaches his climax as well, a warmth filling you as he empties himself deep inside of you. You sob and bury your face in Alex’s neck, which is damp from sweat. His chain presses against your cheek, cold against your burning skin.

“Fuck, baby, such a good girl, so good for me. Come here, love.”

And finally you move your stiff arms to wrap yourself around Alex, curling your legs around his waist, his softening cock still inside of you. You tug at his shirt, whining into his neck and Alex immediately knows what you want, pulling back for a moment to peel the shirt off his shoulders, flinging it to the other side of the room. His pants are also discarded within moments, until he’s left just as naked as you are. His chest is sweaty and if you aren’t so tired from getting dicked down within an inch of your life, you would’ve taken your time admiring it and maybe leaving a very funny comment that would surely make him laugh.

But unfortunately you don’t have the energy to do all that, you’re sure Alex will understand.

“Tired?” He croons, pressing his hand on your cheek, loving the way it’s burning and still a bit wet from your tears. “You wanna shower, baby? Need your answer here, don’t leave me hanging.”

“No,” you whine, pawing at his shoulder and pulling him closer, purposefully draping his whole body on top of you and putting his head in the crook of your neck. “Stay here.”

You hear him chuckling, his hot breath tickling your neck as his hands then move underneath your back and wrap you up with his body like a big weighted blanket. “You wanna stay like this? All night? You sure I'm not gonna crush you or something?”

“No, you’re warm.”

Based on your short responses and clingy attitude, Alex comes to the conclusion that you’re in one of those moods again. You often get clingy and a bit out of it after a good orgasm, but not entirely in subspace. He would’ve known the tone of your voice if you were, but right now he thinks you’re just a bit floaty, and you think you are too.

“Is there anything you want to do after, baby? Take a bath? Sleep? Order a takeout?”

You don’t know. You’re still very much intoxicated by his scent especially since he’s closer to you than he has been all day. Alex’s aftershave mixed with his sweat is practically making you mewl like a kitten, and you have to stop every urge not to rub your cheeks against him like one.

“How about just lie here for a bit, then take a bath, then order a takeout, then sleep?” You suggest, voice hoarse and raw from getting throatfucked earlier. Wonderful. “And I wanna…” You trail off, a hand snaking up to play with his hair.

“Wanna what?” Even though you don’t see Alex’s face, you can practically visualise in your head that he’s currently holding up his confused expression. Raised eyebrow and all. “You wanna go for another round or something?”

“No!” You giggle, slapping him slightly on the shoulder, which earns a quick nip on your neck and a chuckle from Alex. “Well, not that it’s a problem. But that’s not what I mean.”

“Then what?”

“Wanna apologise.” There it goes. Your voice sounds a bit teary and sad, no doubt Alex picks up on that. “I didn’t… mean to have that kind of grade, you know that. It’s just everything has been stressing me out lately and I haven’t really figured out how to fix it yet. I guess overthinking about making it all better kept me from putting all my focus on that paper. I’m sorry. I’ll do better next time, I promise.”

Alex doesn’t answer for a bit and you think that maybe he’s thinking if your excuse is good enough, but luckily that’s not the case when you feel his lips pressing soft kisses on your neck and up behind your ear. You flinch a little from being ticklish, a giggle spilling out of your mouth.

“I know you will,” Alex finally says, pulling his head back and looking at your face. “I know you’ll do better, sweetheart. You always do. And I love you for that. You know that if there’s something bothering you, you can always just ask me for help, right? I’m not a mind reader, darling, that’s why we need to communicate. I’m not always with you when we’re in school so I have no idea what problems you might be facing, but if there’s something I can do to help, then please tell me. Okay?”

He’s right. He always is.

“Okay. I understand. I love you too,” you give him a smile, now feeling a little shy under his stare as he brushes your hair out of your face. “I’ll tell you about my problems next time. Would you still help me if it was about your subject, though?”

Alex laughs cheekily at your question, leaning down to kiss your nose. “I’ll think about it. Still depends if you’d be willing to give me something in return.”

“Oh yeah?” You quirk an eyebrow, a playful grin making its way on your face. “And what’s that?”

“What do we say about roleplay –”

You push his shoulders before he can even finish his question, barking out a laugh when Alex only scoops his arms underneath your back again and pulling you closer to him.

“Absolutely not!”

#alex turner x reader #alex turner #Arctic monkeys #alex turner fanfic #Alex turner smut #Alex turner imagine #my writing

[alwaysonf1]

big leagues?

Pairing: Charles LeClerc x Hamilton!OC

Genre: Slice of Life; Fluff

Word Count: 1.2k

Warning: Language

Rating: PG-13

Author's Note: She has a name now *shrug*

“It shouldn’t take that long to tighten it.”

“It wouldn’t if you’d get off my ass about it.”

There’s a huff, but Iman still sees the feat of the hovering mechanic. The man is impossible. Most of the time she doesn’t have any issues being around him, she even enjoys his company and what he can teach her. Their relationship started when he was one of the people in charge of her during an internship years ago. But he’s incapable of chilling the fuck out during a race weekend.

Iman would also love to have slid under the lifted car, tightened a bolt, and got up so that she can do other pre-practice checks, but the damn thing is stripped. She knows it was the older, know it all mechanic who hates her mere existence because she’d asked him to do it. He was smart enough to complete a simple task, but clearly not since he managed to fuck up three of them and now, she has to check every single one.

It’s tedious and she finds that all the others are fine but can’t bring herself to leave it up to chance. She refuses to risk Alex’s race and more than that potentially his safety. Sometimes it almost feels like she’s the only one who understands why being a little overly cautious in a sport where accidents are par for the course is a good thing.

There is chattering in the garage as everyone prepares, but it’s mostly quiet near the car. Her check has halted any work being done and she knows that some people are annoyed with her - outside of the man currently rushing her - but she doesn’t have it in her to care.

As she goes over the last two bolts, she hears the tapping of a foot and closes her eyes, taking a deep breath.

“Ben, stop hovering. I would be done already if someone didn’t strip these things. Maybe talk to him about his fuck up instead of helicopter parenting me making sure nothing else is messed up.”

Her tone is firm but doesn’t lean into disrespect. They have a dynamic where she can speak in a way that may seem like she has a lot of audacity to check a superior from an outside perspective, but she doesn’t use it. Not yet at least. As she looks over the last two, she knows that if he has something to say when she gets up words will fly.

Thankfully, Ben regains some sense and walks away. And in less than a minute she’s up and holding the three bolts she had to change out. She dangles them in the air for all to see and gives a pointed look to Gareth, who has the decency to look ashamed and then looks away from her.

Ben still has a look on his face, but she knows it’s out of stress, so she let it slide. Iman levels a look at him and he sighs and then turns to Gareth, professionally laying into the man while everyone else gets back to work.

The rest of the checks are done within the hour and that’s when the drivers begin to hang around their cars.

“Hope you didn’t break anything on my car. Don’t think I don’t know your plans to help Logan win,” Alex jokes.

Iman rolls her eyes.

“How is that plan coming along by the way? I’m in the points, but this guy is in my way. Need his car a little slower this weekend,” Logan chimes in.

They’re both dorks and Iman is unsure of how she puts up with them. She always thought that Logan was the worst in that department and was so unsure of how close the two drivers were, but if they weren’t bonded before they are now in all the ways they can mess with her. It’s like adding another brother to a roster that is already filled with heathens.

“If I wanted to slow you down, I wouldn’t mess with your car, Ally Cat. And maybe if you weren’t a punk and would just pass your teammate things would be easier for you, Logie Bear.”

Both men cringe at the nicknames. Alex's is a full body shudder and Logan looks like he’s going to throw up. Which brings out Iman’s first smile of the day.

“Now stop bothering me and go warm up.” 

With that she turns on her heel and walks away. Every other mechanic is taking a break so they can give their fool focus in the next thirty minutes, and she plans to do the same. Ben - Chief Mechanic - had her come in earlier than the initial schedule called for and she was starting to feel tired. She’d still have more than enough energy to focus until they wrapped things up, but she didn’t want to lag later. Especially since she’d promised to catch a late lunch with the team and then dinner with some of the drivers.

She takes several steps outside of the garage and takes a deep breath, looking around to see where she should go next. It takes a moment, but after little debate, she pulls off her lanyard, stuffs it in her pocket, and heads toward a fan area. 

“Wait. What way would you do it then?” Alex calls out as she starts walking again.

She says nothing. Doesn’t even look back.

“Iman. What way?” he shouts, sounding desperate. 

Laughter slips free and she makes sure it’s loud enough that he can hear and evil enough that a little fear hits him. Alex knows she would never do anything to fuck him over, but over the last two plus years he has also learned to be a little scared of her. Which was by design on her part, she prefers that people are a little afraid of her. And it’s just fun when it comes to her friends and family.

Her chosen path leads her past most of the garages and she doesn’t spare any of them a single glance. What they’re doing is none of her business. But she makes sure she greets anyone she makes eye contact with or who speaks to her. She’s not rude. At least not if they aren’t. 

Iman is pretty sure that most of them know by now that her mouth is worse than Lewis’; she’ll keep it diplomatic, but she’s less likely to hold back. She’s pretty sure Horner still holds some hurt feelings for some slick shit he tried to say in her presence because she refused to let it slide.

Toto high-fived her after and reminded her that she always has a job with him if she wants it. But she wasn’t going to use that connection just yet.

The last garage she passes is the Ferrari one and she can’t help but look at the driver doing his warmups just outside of it. His back is partly to her so she picks up speed to get out of there, but before she can pass his head snaps in her direction as if he could sense her presence.

Charles’ lips curl into a smile when she meets his eyes and then he winks at her. Iman makes a show of rolling her eyes, says hi to his trainer, and continues walking out of there and into the crowds of people milling around.

Her heart doesn’t calm down until she’s far enough that she knows he can’t see her.

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x black reader #f1 x reader #f1 x black!reader #formula 1 x reader #formula one x reader #charles leclerc fan fiction #charles leclerc fanfic #f1 fanfic #f1 fanfiction #f1 imagine #formula one x oc #formula 1 x oc #charles leclerc x oc

[trashland-llamas]

How the Stardust Crusaders react to y/n being trans

Trans reader

Noriaki Kaykoin

Doesn’t phase him one bit as he knows some cultures have a 3rd gender and even more beyond that

Rambles about how some cultures even view trans people slightly akin to deities

Entirely open to learning how being trans affects their everyday life, his questions hesitant

The hesitancy coming from his want to be respectful, doesn’t let it stop him from asking

Seeing y/n jump as to reach a mug from the top shelf, about to climb the counters, Hierophant Green will just pick them up

Kujo Joestar

Don’t ever tell this dude if you wore your binder for too long

Man views y/n as a sibling and will immediately go into older brother mode

Not letting them spar or do anything remotely considered exercise for a week

Y/n’s stand annoyed at Star Platinum, giving it the silent treatment—eventually getting tired of it, Star Platinum makes y/n & Kujo reconcile

If the Crusaders have to dress up for anything, expect Kujo to be a tad overbearing

Going to fight whoever dares to look them up and down

Jean Pierre Polnareff

Is a little confused but he has the spirit

Takes quite a while to use the right pronouns and name but Polnareff’s good at correcting himself

Is the type to fight anyone if he’s hears them saying anything transphobic towards y/n

If mtf, he’ll playfully hit on y/n, trying to smooth talk himself into a date.

Never really works though as one of the other Crusaders will cockblock him

If ftm, he’s just like ‘oh cool another homie,’ in that he starts involving them in his ruff housing

‘En garde!’

Confused the fuck out of y/n the first time it happens, realization slowly dawning on ‘em

Muhammad Avdol

Didn’t say anything but he had noticed y/n’s stand change before coming out

Figured they’d eventually tell him if they wanted him to know

Is the most chill about it really, door’s always open if they want to talk

Offers a tarot reading or teaches them about tarot if they’re the type of person where it takes a minute to collect all their thoughts

Helps educate Polnareff about shit whenever dysphoria gets too much and y/n simply doesn’t want to deal with his questions

Is the one y/n takes with them to buy stuff, whether it’s a binder, breast forms or a packet. Knows he’ll be the least weird about it.

Hell, he’ll do the talking part with the cashier if y/n doesn’t feel comfortable or up to task for it

#jjba x reader #jjba stardust crusaders #stardust crusaders #jjba pt 3 #jjba part 3 #jjba sdc #trans reader #jotaro kujo #noriaki kakyoin #muhammad avdol #jean pierre polnareff #jotaro kujo x reader #noriaki kakyoin x reader #muhammad avdol x reader #jean pierre polnareff x reader

[twisted-tales-told]

sorry for my ignorance for my lack of time on the internet lol but what is that chat bot? does that really exist?

Hello!! Thank you for asking!

So the chat gtp bot is being used for things like essays & writing and stuff which is just not cool. I don’t understand how it works and have never used it myself for anything, but I know people are doing it. And it scares me a lil bit.

It makes sure people never learn critical writing skills, which like really hurts me in my heart. And I know these skills are hard to develop, but fuck now is the time in the world we need it more than ever and we’re just giving up?

I’ve seen a couple really great teachers Incorporate it into their classrooms as a teaching tool for why AI is not good for writing essays, or having them dissect AI writing to make it better, but this is fanfiction, FANfiction.

It’s supposed to come from the heart. Fanfiction is rebellious in nature, and taking that away from its art form is just so ridiculous and counter productive to me. Why would you want to do that?

I do not think AI for writing is inherently bad. I do think it has uses, for example who here has anxiety about emails? I think there’s a lot of value for mundane every day tasks, and also for people with physical disabilities who find tasks like writing emails extremely draining.

(Technology usually makes life for disabled ppl a lot easier, and things like predictive text, text to speech, and things like that are really helpful.)

BUT I do not think things like Chat gtp should not be allowed to be used for long form writing, and creative writing. There need to be limits.

Someone more articulate than me might be able to describe it better, because all I can say is if we do this, and give more power to ai to create art, nothing good can come of it.

Because AI does not create anything new. They mix and match things that are already created. It is an echo chamber, and that’s just so harmful because it never allows for diversity or nuance to come into the picture.

#fic writers against ai #twisted asks/games

[iamafanofcartoons]

RWBY Character Analysis: Ozma aka Ozpin-- A Humorous Explanation by Lurker-Archon

Found this fantastic R/RWBY comment and had to share it here.

https://www.reddit.com/r/fnki/comments/wikl33/comment/il2tvpv/?context=3

Are you a masochist that will take an impossible task by gods who will kill you all if you ever call them back before you finish?

Do you have an interest in reincarnating into a boy and take over his life, and eventually, his very mind?

With or without consent, let us hop right into RWBY.

RWBY, an obscure spin off of the Valthirian Arc flash game series, is set in the world of Remnant, occupied by the 4 corners the political compass: Authoritarian Right, Authoritarian Left, Libertarian Left, and Libertarian Right, which are Atlas, Mistral, Vacuo, and Vale respectively. As you can guess, this can lead to disagreements and conflict. However, all four nations have come to mutual understanding of who the real enemies are: the Grimm. Mindless monsters that are indiscriminate on who they attack and bear no allegiance to any political ideology: the Centrists. And as we all know, all centrists must die.

Now, before we get into the excruciating, torturous gameplay, we must first get into the excruciating, torturous lore.

There once were two gods, God of Light and God of Darkness. Don't let the names fool you into thinking this is some gay New Testament Jesus and Satan bullshit. This is Greek mythology bs where the gods' personal drama personally fucks up the life of some random mortal, whom in this case was your wife Salem. After you died of ligma, Salem asked the gods to revive you. GoL refused because death is sacred part of life she must accept, while GoD refused because he's offended she asked GoL first.

As punishment for her arrogance, GoL gives Salem immortality. Is it the messed up kind where she gets older indefinitely? No, she stays young forever and is invulnerable to any damage. You might say, "I don't get it, that sounds exclusively beneficial", I would say, um, well, it's supposed to teach her the value of life and death or something.

Anyways, GoL's "punishment" resulted in Salem desiring death very much. So in a way, it worked really well on one half. However, unable to learn the other half, Salem instead gathers every army in the world by promising them immortality and YOLO-ing them against the Gods. This just ticked off GoD, who then proceeded to blow on the moon and bring armageddon, leaving her all on alone on a burning surface of the planet, a Remnant of the previous world.

Left utterly alone, Salem does the unthinkable. She takes the Centrist pool and becomes the queen over the creations of GoD also known as Grimm. Before, these centrist creatures were mostly harmless due to being disorganized, united by no cause. Now ever since Salem took control, they are an international threat to all political orientations, one of them even specifically designed to make our young generation apathetic to current politics..

Where do you fit into all this? After the planet was glassed medium-rare, GoL brought you back to life to give you the ultimate mission: unite humanity. He then gives you four exclusive premium MMO items called the Relics that will summon him and GoD back. But if he comes back and he still sees the players unable to decide how to split raid loot, he will finish what GoD started.

What a nice guy. He just wants to help a brother out.

Armed with your objective, the first thing you did was actually team up with Salem, not knowing her betrayal to everything good. To be honest, I don't blame you. You both ruled over the new world as gods, and even had 4 beautiful children. But soon it became apparent she had no governing philosophy, establishing no tax policy. I must clarify. I don't mean there were no taxes. There just wasn't any "policy". She "taxed" by taking anything she wanted, at any time, which could mean taking the very rockbed below your house to build her castle, eating the very last peach you were saving for your children, and, gods forbid, sitting next to you in the movie theater and taking your buttered popcorn bucket.

Disgusted by this barbarism, you decided to sneak out with the children, only to be caught and fight magic duels until the castle collapses on your children and you die. Salem is neither pro-life nor pro-choice. She is anti-life and anti-choice. Truly, no greater evil can be conceived by any other than the diabolical centrists.

Oh, and when you die, you reincarnate in the mind of another person, whose name must start with O. And after some time, both of your minds will eventually meld, into one. Now, where does individuality begin and end? Did the host disappear, or was it slowly eroded? Did Ozma die long ago, or is he a conjoined twin of your evergrowing minds?

There's only one thing to be certain, and that is to stop asking those questions, and focus on your goal. Stop Salem from destroying humanity by spreading her non-ideology throughout this world, and hopefully, eventually, maybe, unite humanity divided by opposing ideologies.

Good luck~

What is at your disposal? Who are you in this world? You are Ozpin, Headmaster of a Huntsmen school where all the students and teachers have guns. "School shootings" isn't something to prevent; it's something to encourage and integral to your school's security. It's also your deterrent to anyone trying to get into your office.

As the person in charge of these promising youths, your job is to prepare them for the harsh and cruel world. Therefore it is imperative that you make sure to cut out the chaff from the wheat by whatever means necessary. That includes throwing them with a catapult and see if they land without becoming red mist, putting them on opposite ends of a shooting range to teach them how to dodge, and prepare them for the international political debate where they persuade the masses that you are right by using your opponent's face to plug hot geysers.

Now you might ask yourself, what would happen if, say, some stupid noodle blonde that doesn't even know how to survive getting shot, applies to your school? Answer: let him in. See if he survives. Worst case, what happened was natural selection, and the gene pool is now less polluted. If his parents get angry and sue you, pay a visit to the judge. If he or she is a true Valean, the problem won't even come up in the newspaper.

Put your students in co-ed dorms. Because as a wise man once said, "There are no mistakes. Only happy accidents, that will fight and kill for your cause". And as your pool of students grows, so does potential recruits as agents in your shadow council.

What do you do with agents? Among just making sure Salem's agents aren't pulling their social experiment prank of the century, they can make sure to make sure 4 certain women in the world isn't going crazy or kidnapped. What's special about these women you ask? Remember the 4 reality-breaking divine items you were given? Well you locked them away in the 4 different countries in their respective schools, and turned some girls into their keys and gave them superpowers. Why did you do all that? Because you are a wizard, and you are just following the examples of your god to make things needlessly complicated, probably for some tangentially related moral lesson.

Just remember, you are not the protagonist. You are nurturing the protagonists who will save this world, so guide them through the difficult moral questions. Are the White Fang misunderstood, or are they Centrists? Is it unethical to dab over the enemy over winning the fight? Is there ever point where a weapon is nothing more than a convoluted impractical monstrosity?

Answer however you like, because all your attempts to try to nudge them in your directions will fail. So join in for the ride. When Salem plays her cards and apocalypse start, select your heroes and go on the world tour to gather the Relics.

How will they unite the world and fulfill the Gods' request to "unite humanity"? Will they tell the truth and suggest annihilation is the only alternative? Will they take the utilitarian approach and kill everyone who disagrees until all that are left, are the united?

Perhaps it's none of these things. Perhaps, ideologies are not important. Perhaps the answer to all of this, to all the answer to life and all its conflict, was smug anime faces.

Gods help us all

As always, more contents to come, so stay tuned. A warm thanks to the many members of the merchants guild. Generously funding, and bankrolling these videos.

You're all truly wonderful. Have a good one.

___________________________________________

Lurker-Archon’s comment was a delicious treat from start to finish.

If you have a reddit account, please drop some awards their way, they deserve it.

#political satire #rwby commentary #ozpin #ozma #rwby ozma #rwby ozpin #rwby salem #rwby #rwby discussion #rwby analysis #rwby abridged #rwby crack #reddit shitpost

[drabbles-mc]

Okay so I absolutely loved everything you wrote about the pen pal stuff with Juice and I won’t be mad, like at all if you wanna do a fic about it 🫣.

But on that topic, I’ve always been curious about prison uniform colors and what they meant. They wore orange while waiting on bail but during the appisodes that showcase their time doing the 14 months (Mexican basketball, Jax’s stabbing & Tara+Gemma’s visit) they’re all wearing blue. I googled it and found the following:

Blue: low-risk inmates usually charged with a misdemeanor and other nonviolent crimes, or inmates on work detail (e.g., kitchen, cleaning, laundry, mail, or other tasks)

Orange: unspecific, commonly used for any status in some prisons

Ok so I don’t think the guys (especially Happy) were considered low risk by any means which leads me to believe they were on work derail.

What work do YOU think they were designated to and do you think they enjoyed it? I believe it was Jax, Clay, Bobby, Juice, Tig and Happy. Let me know if I forgot anyone!

I've been mulling over the Juice pen pal thing ever since I wrote it. I don't make promises I can't keep but in terms of hc's I might turn into full fics, that's definitely towards the top of the list.

Also, I say this respectfully, given how some of the things in SOA went it wouldn't surprise me if you put more thought and research into their uniform colors than the people running the show did. 😂 However I never stopped to think that different colored uniforms might mean different stuff! Thank you for teaching me new things!

(Full disclosure I know next to nothing about prisons or how they operate so all of this is probably wildly inaccurate but we're just fanficing out here so it's fine 😂)

I would have loved to see Bobby and Juice on kitchen detail. I think that Bobby would be good at it for obvious reasons. But I also think that that kind of work would be good for Juice. He needs instructions to follow and Bobby would definitely give him that. I could also see Juice doing well on laundry duty. Let the man fold sheets over and over again, it plays right into his obsessive nature.

They probably wanted Happy as far away from the kitchen (re: knives) as possible. Because while he can make anything into a weapon, they're not going to just hand him blades if they can help it. He gets put on library duty or general custodial jobs like mopping floors. Simple things that will most likely keep him out of trouble.

Tig will take any job and make chaos of it. The CO's hate him and he loves it. They put him in the mail room thinking that there was no way that he could fuck it up and make it more difficult, but then he found a way. So they stuck him in the kitchen with Bobby and learned that he is the only one who can do anything close to keeping Tig in line. It's still hit or miss, though.

Meanwhile Clay moans and groans about being more and needing things to do, saying he wants hands-on jobs because he doesn't want to sit around and twiddle his thumbs all day. But he's got those arthritic fingers so everything becomes a monumental task. Which like. We call that karma.

I would love to see Jax having to do laundry for the first time in his life. (Like I'm sorry but I just feel like Gemma has always done it for him, or Wendy, and then Gemma again 😂) This man is fighting for his life against the fitted sheets and there's nothing he can do about it.

I think that the only ones who really hate the work that they get assigned, are Clay and potentially Happy. Although I just feel like Happy is always vaguely angry and it's not necessarily about the work. I don't see him necessarily enjoying it though.

I think that Bobby and Juice are the ones who are as close to enjoying the work as anyone. Juice needs to stay busy and feel useful, and Bobby knows that there are a lot worse ways he could be spending his time in prison than cooking subpar meals for everyone. So he's smart enough to be appreciative on that front.

Tig is having the time of his life but it's not because of the work, it's because he's constantly formulating how to get out of doing the work.

#ask #asks #anonymous

[originlist]

OPERATION: Hell Mandala Heian-Kyo - Clown v Clown Nightmare Match [5.5]     < prev || next >

There is the first task of ensuring Beast will not be present when Chaldea answers the summons that Limbo has politely (har har) offered to Ritsu, Dou-kun, Yako, and they’re sneaking Kama in. Ritsu feels a little guilty, knowing they did tell Beast they’d be welcome to come along to the next Lostbelt, but... the consequences of Limbo learning that Beast not only exists, but exists in the state they do would be catastrophic to say the least. Ritsu’s trying to just annoy Limbo into submission, not have some completely fucked clawing and screaming fight.

So! At the command room, Ritsu attracts attention to themselves with a clap of the hands. “Meuniere, Laurel, you’re the human-est humans here,” considering Sion and Goredolf both suffer from varying degrees of magebrain, “so you’ll be babysitting if Beast gets too lonely.” That’s mostly to Meuniere, as Laurel will probably be too busy wrangling Seimei and Bei to either be in the room or out of it, depending on how things go.

Laurel makes a face Ritsu chooses to ignore rather than read as displeased as Meuniere raises his hand tentatively. “Can I not? Beast is creepy.” No offense, of course, and Ritsu does not parse anything in this sentence as unexpected.

Ritsu shrugs. “If they get too weird, just, I don’t know, teach them rhythm games or something.” That’s a distraction!

Beast materializes over Meuniere’s shoulder, leaning down to be slightly closer to head level with him. He doesn’t notice this until a teardrop of blood falls onto his shoulder and Beast starts speaking at the same moment, at which time Muniere notices with an alarmed yelp and reflexive hop away. The hopping really only serves to bonk his shoulder against Beast’s jaw.

Beast is not perturbed, and leans further forward in a way unnervingly owl-like to keep pace with Meuniere. “The sound of bells can be used as a warding charm. For you, a commanded name doesn’t share the ritual. What’s a rhythm game?”

Meuniere resists the urge to panic a little bit. (Outwardly.) Ritsu kindly (?) pretends not to notice. They give a thumbs up. “Glad you’re getting along! That’s settled.” The staff might beg to differ, but it’s fine. It’s fine! Beast might beg to differ once they realize Ritsu’s gone for longer than a few days, but whatever. It’ll be like picking a cat up from boarding, Ritsu can deal with Beast’s dramatics afterwards.

Second task is preparation with da Vinci. She’s returned from the Border by now, and even has gifts in tow-- those being altered Mystic Codes, designed and customized special for to occasion. Holmes provides some extra colour commentary along the way as da Vinci introduces a mix of things Ritsu didn’t know but isn’t surprised about and things Ritsu had guessed already knowing their quarry.

So on, so forth, until eventually da Vinci gets to the subject of her new crafts project, which she introduces with much more enthusiasm. “Since this is a Singularity instead of a Lostbelt, it means that I can make some guesses as to what clothing should look like. As such, I’ve taken the liberty of modifying some Mystic Codes for you, so you’ll stick out less — if Yako wouldn’t mind putting a glamour on to make her look a little more like a standard human.” Yako gives her assent. Kama’s already manipulating magic to ping through a few outfits they, presumably, guess will match Yako’s but classier.

“I suggested you should wear a junihitoe, but da Vinci refused,” Douman says with an audible pout.

“That was a good choice on her part,” Ritsu says as they inspect the outfit that da Vinci’s offered them. It’s a pretty standard hakama outfit, blue dyes, a good many pockets to store their various tricks, weaponries, and supplies. A sling for their naginata with a quite modern quick-access clip that’s cleverly disguised to look more like a knot.

Yako’s already putting on the modified kimono she’s been given over top of her usual under-armour. “Making sure everyone can tell they’re your wife?” she sends as a friendly jab to Douman.

Douman declines to answer that directly, instead looking with great interest at whatever corner is farthest away from Yako. “I was also hoping it would give them a slightly harder time running off and punching things,” 'things’ largely referring to Limbo, “if they were held back by twelve layers of clothing.”

Ritsu’s voice chimes in. “I will not be stopped from violence.” That much could have been guessed. They give Douman their best ‘definitely not scheming anything at all, nope, no sir!’ wide grin, and it does nothing to convince them.

It’s Sion paging in who gives the announcement once everyone’s dressed and Douman’s last-minute whining is halfway through. “Alright, we should have the Rayshift up and ready to go shortly.”

The Rayshift room is somehow nostalgic. Ritsu can feel Douman looking at them from their corner of their eye, waiting. Normally they’d have spoken now, but Ritsu figures they want to see how well Ritsu’s guesses are going to work. Pretty well, Ritsu hopes— just because they haven’t voiced anything yet doesn’t mean they won’t.

“Yo, Vincichi.” They stop short, leaning back to look where the Command Room cameras will be watching. “As we make connection with the time period, isolate every system as much as possible from the actual entry point. If there’s a passageway, it’s a two-way street and I don’t want something creeping in.” They can see Douman give a minute nod next to them, and feel pleased they apparently passed that test.

“Good deduction, Ritsu.” Holmes says over the speaker. An implicit voice of approval that he would have made the same conclusion had Ritsu not announced it first.

Ritsu nods and pulls out their spear, giving it a glance to make sure the appropriate talismans are in place. Yup, passed. “Yako and Kama, when we land, hang tight for a second and don’t move.” They know Douman well enough to know Limbo. If an invitation was made and there is any point of access, that door is not created in good faith. It only makes sense for Limbo to place something there that will kill them in the first second of entry, a surprise that makes it so ‘the Chaldea that brought down Lostbelts before me was felled within a second of entering my Singularity’.

“Alright.” Da Vinci says over speaker as Yako and Ritsu climb into Coffins, their Servants dematerializing to cling to their Masters’ prana. “I’ll count you down. Five. Four.” Connection made. “Three.” The time period is aware of entry. “Two.” The door exists. “One.” The pathway opens.

They land in the dark, Ritsu with their spear already in hand before their eyes adjust. Something black squirms in the shadow before Ritsu’s feet. As is expected. Yako stands to the back of the group with Kama who is watching, bored, just behind her shoulder and Douman to the side of them.

Ritsu raises their naginata. “Let evil be seen.” The blade swings in a quick arc of silver, magic thrumming from the seals and incantations, amplified by the peach-wood handle. “And cut.” Snakes made of grudge pull their forms from the shadow only in time for Ritsu’s blade to neatly lop their heads off in a single movement, flinging them against a nearby wall where they dissolve into nothing.

Yako gets half an excited syllable out before the bodies wriggle and surge forth from the same point. They twine together to create a singular shape, blinking open eyes and stretching forth a singular giant maw.

“I am the one who will cut down karma,” with their blade glowing a faint red, Ritsu switches to a different stance and pulls the naginata back around, “and retie it to my will.” Metal crackles when it cuts through the curse from the head down this time, the jaws of a singular massive snake falling dead to either side of Ritsu. “By my word, will, and blade: acknowledgement and purification.” A star is drawn with the tip of their spear. Sealing. This time, the whole demon dissolves.

There’s a moment, which Yako breaks. “That was so cool!! Good job Ritsu!” She sprints forward immediately, hands flung up to give them a high five. Ritsu grins and obliges, and with a quiet “good job, my lord,” from Douman, the Singularity begins.

#HELL MANDALA CLOWN FIGHT #mun writes #drabble : ritsu #HERE WE MOTHER FUCKING GOOOOOOO

[goatskickin]

Part 2

BANG BANG BANG

BANG BANG BANG

BANG BANG BANG

BANG BANG BANG

BANG BANG BANG

“Okay what is that NOISE?!”

    “Tris, someone’s at the door.”

“…someone is at the door? It’s so late-“

“You got dressed? Wait, I’m coming.”

“Who is it?”

   “Caden, what. We already paid you this week. What do you want. It’s late.”

“I need your help. It’s an emergency.”

   “You do witch stuff now, right?”

“Hey! HEY! You can’t just come in here! It’s late! What’s the emergency?”

“I’m sorry – please, we need help. I’m sorry it’s so late.”

“Yes please, just invite yourself in, take a seat. You want some tea?”

“I know you don’t like me Wendy, but I need your help. You specifically. I don’t know any other witches.”

   “Fine.

…

What book is that?”

“It’s Gathering Magik for the Home. I saw it at the Navajo’s house. Do you recognize it? I’ve been reading it – must have belonged to Gracie.”

“Caden, did you fucking steal a spell book from Koda Navajo’s house? Hasn’t your ‘family’ taken enough from people?”

“Did you take that after screwing Koda’s wife?”

“I don’t have fucking time –

…

I need your help understanding this.”

   …

“Hither to course Grandmother's wits

Down, down

a feline, canine, aviary companion giving of soul's repose

verve's aged throes and mind's dubiety,

lest her mind to bury, grant faith to office.”

“I’ve been reading this little bit over and over – I think it’s talking about how you know, elders, they lose their minds?”

“If I am understanding this right – it’s saying that a pet can be helpful for older people. And that the pet should like, have a job or something? A job or duty? Tasks?”

“Does that sound right? Does that make sense? Did your mom every mention anything about pets and the elderly?”

...

“You need to leave Caden.”

“Wendy! I don’t know any witches! This is a witches’ book, right?! Please tell me this makes sense. We need help. Joey –“

“Joey – he had his birthday and…he’s really gone off the deep end. I -we- don’t know what we will do without him. He needs help. Caden thought that maybe, you’d have an idea –“

“I really do not give a shit if your mob boss boyfriend lost his marbles. He deserves it.”

“Wendy – I think Caden’s right.”

“Not about Joey, but… I think this little passage here encourages older people to have a pet in the house. For their sanity? It kinda makes sense.”

“This whole chapter, it’s got stuff about pets and the home…pets and kid’s homework? Spells for pets that will protect your house? Teaching them tricks? Could be something.”

“Let me see that.”

“Yeah, could be what this passage here means. So what.”

“So, you have a cat, right? Heard that it had kittens. Can we have one? For Joey? I thought it could help.”

“What?”

“We’ll waive payment for the next 2 months in exchange. We have to try something, you know? If this was Gracie’s book, you know, and if we are interpreting this correctly, I think it might help…”

“You woke me up in the middle of the night to interpret a poem from a spell book and now you want one of Binx’s kittens….Caden, I -”

“Can I talk to you alone for a moment?”

“Listen Wendy, I know you don’t like me very much, but we did used to be friends…”

“…the past is the past. Saskia’s forgiven me. That was forever ago. Please?”

“That’s because Saskia is too forgiving – she’s softhearted like that.”

 “And you are too Wendy, even though you try to hide it.”

…

“You’ve already chosen your alignment, right? Let me guess, Good? Like your mom?”

 “Yeah.”

“I was sorry to hear about your mom – a lot of people went missing like that…”

    “I am happy that we have another Good witch. We need one, in this town.”

“I think your ma would have been proud of you Wendy. Tristan seems like a good guy.”

“And keeping this place. And choosing her alignment, choosing witchcraft – it’s a good thing.”

“I know that you did a lot to take care of her, to come back home and be with her…

...if this, this ‘thing’ with the pets works, other elderly people…I don’t know…it could help.”

“We will all get older eventually.”

“Us too.”

“Okay.”

“…and he says, ‘Because he was being knotty’. You know…like trees? Have knots?’ And then I had to explain that some jokes are better read than said. And then he was like, ‘What is a red joke?’. And that started a whole new –“

“So?”

“Tris, can you grab one of the kittens from Binx’s litter? I think there’s an old cardboard box next to the fridge you can put it in.”

~~~

…

...

…

“…where –“

“We are in the dressing room, dove. How are you feeling?”

…

“…oh….he cracked my rib, didn’t he?”

“Three actually. You may also have a fractured right humerus. A very bad cut on your face. And a black eye that you can probably feel.”

…

“…yes. Yes, I do feel that.”

“Where is everyone?”

“Caden and Ada left very shortly after the incident. Swan and Kestrel are tracking them. Joey has been sedated, thanks to me. Tiave is…cleaning up the mess.”

“And Benji?”

“Also sedated.”

…

“Now that you’re awake, I’ll need to do an exam.”

“I’ll need to touch your head and face for any tenderness or lesions. Is that okay?

“…yes.”

“Hm. Normal. I’ll check the other side.”

“…okay.”

…

“…the petty politics of it all, this retaliation when you didn’t even…I mean you, love. We were supposed –“

“Loren, please…”

“Aiyanna…” 

“Aiyanna, I don’t feel safe here anymore. My family isn’t safe.”

“You’re my family too dove. It’s not safe for you either.”

“…this man is a monster. He’s base and he’s cruel. When will we-“

“We have to pick the right time. Joey may be cruel, but he’s experienced. He can sniff out dissent.”

…

...

“…turn your head to the left please.”

…

“…I’m worried about this right cheek. It is cut deep…

…I cannot tell for sure right now…I need you to understand that it may have severed an important nerve. If so, that will affect the movement of this side of your face.

…

I’d like for that to not be the case of course. But, I will keep an eye on it.”

…

“…that’s okay. I was never one for emoting anyway.”

…

“It’s painful for me to see you like this.”

“I’m okay with having a scar.”

“…how are you doing? Really.”

…

“…some days I don’t even feel like a person. Just – it just overtakes me. I feel underwater.

…

I miss her so much…I’m waiting for the pain to feel less, to get smaller…and it never does.”

…

“The pain never gets smaller. I’m sorry. It never goes away because the love never goes away. You just grow around it.”

...

“And then eventually, you live so long that you grow so large, that you become a huge and obnoxious homosexual, like me!”

“Loren! Ha, stop, don’t make me laugh, it hurts.”

#apocalypse C.O.W. #apocalypse challenge #sims 2 story #i am sorry that this took SO long to put together

[vcid-rvin]

It doesn’t feel right…or the same I guess…

To know he’s lied and on purpose to be mean…and if I hadn’t pressed he wouldn’t have told me. Straight to my face, even though we both knew I heard him say words. And I don’t even know what he said under his breath still…that makes my heart so heavy. That’s my biggest number hard line is honesty, I’m so brutally honest even when it paints me badly, and to just do it so easily without thought… and then yesterday hearing him say that to having me plug in the ps4 wasn’t something hard for him like he said, but because he didn’t want to do it that day…just ask me because you’re tired if I’ll do it?? There’s less and less communication as the days go on and I don’t know what to think…

He doesn’t really ask how or what went on in my day or what’s up with my doctors appointments or anything unless I say something. And when I do it’s “ok got it” or “gotcha” and not even a conversation? Or I’ll be talking about something important to me and I’ll get “mhm” “ya” “ooh” like? We use to have such long deep conversations about each other or anything else…I feel like he doesn’t care anymore because it seems like he doesn’t listen or is always forgetting about me now.. he doesn’t remember anything about my appointments or what I’ve got going on even though I always talk about it, I show him things and then he does exactly the same thing as if I didn’t do it, or says the same thing I just explained as if I didn’t say it, I communicate my boundaries and what’s important for me to feel loved clearly in plain words and he doesn’t ever remember those, fuck even today he bought regular creamer even though I’m lactose intolerant and already make the sacrifice to drink regular milk, and I try to talk more playing stardew but then he just goes off doing his own thing anyway and doesn’t even try to play together or whatever he wanted? I thought he was supposed to teach me his play style and how to be better partners together and he’s just given up even when I’m still trying and it hurts…I say oo I’ll wait for you for this dungeon we just unlocked! (Because I like being included and including him, I’ve said several times. And just doing the big stuff together) and he ignores me, goes about his day, and when i finally move into a completely different task, he goes and does it all by himself no words. Same with the barn, and most everything else…if im not supposed to do stuff like that, why would you? Not to mention I would never do the big stuff or expensive things without asking? Now I just have no care for how the farm looks or turns out, which I guess is good for my detachment but really sucks because I love this game and finally thought I had someone to share it with and build something together…

I feel so ignored and isolated and punished…he doesn’t even call me the same sweet names…doesn’t tell me he’s streaming or give me his new twitch..no Facebook updates…he doesnt tell me literally anything about himself or what he’s been up to without me squeezing it out of him…and he hasn’t posted on that tumblr in forever…was it love bombing? Was it just lust from him? Maybe I’m really not enough even when I’m trying and pushing myself over my limit…I’ve put myself through so much mental sadness and work for him to just give up so easy on me? Fuck this hurts… not to mention on top of it ofc the thing to start it all off I can’t even trust him anymore… exes that show up he doesn’t tell me about, telling me you didn’t say anything when I’m sitting right in front of you, I won’t even call it weaponized incompetence because he’s better than that but fuck is it close with the ps5 and fuckingn who knows how much else because I just want to care for him however I can…

I just want so purely to be loved and to love and be happy with him…and it feels like I’m trying harder and harder and he’s getting further away…I don’t think it’ll ever be the same. And maybe that’s because of me.

I’m sure I ruined everything. Like always. Everything that’s left me has claw marks on it.

[elytrafemme]

ranting about my psyche etc. NO RBs. under the cut for the girlies who want to psychoanalyze me

i think the worst traits about myself, the kind that aren’t very easy to say because they’re just objectively awful things, come to light whenever there’s a conflict with people around me. it’s that and abandonment, but abandonment isn’t so bad because it’s just me. like. threatening to kill myself, proposing increasingly absurd relationship dynamics just to get around a breakup? that time i told my girlfriend to her face that she could cheat on me so long as she never left? it hurts other people but at the end it falls back on me. but when it comes to other people’s conflicts my brain doesn’t know how to take it. i’m so used to bending over backwards and tolerating and always having the safeguard of knowing i’m a likable person, that privilege, that like. how am i supposed to handle a friendship ending? i would fight to keep that friendship alive no matter what. i would let it burn to the ground and not think twice. for the most part i’m not seen as a serial relationship ruiner because i don’t burn things down in a fight as much as i just silently step away, the crushes i’ve had and destroyed in my brain, the entire friend groups i’ve lost. i’m always able to find new people and i think that must be so fucking frustrating, because people are cruel and not everyone can do that. but i know how to be loved, i just can turn it on in my brain, that’s something that near death and revival can teach a person. i don’t compromise all my traits and i can’t befriend everyone, but nobody hates me. so for all my interpersonal flaws, they are really not so consequential, and maybe that gives me the liberty to be angry at people whenever their relationships fail. it’s so obvious from a spectator’s glance-- you never communicated, you two were incompatible, et cetera. for me it goes deeper: you aren’t clever enough to see the similarities, you aren’t good enough to respect them, you failed at this simple task and ruined everything and you will always, forever, ruin everything. it’s all fire-hot rage for me it always is. i never know how to explain who i am to people because it was very sudden-- as my sister put it, one day i woke up and simply stopped being depressed. and that’s how it was. dissociative break, psychotic episode, whatever it was, i just... became better. a mature person, a confident one. i don’t entirely get it myself but clearly it makes me superior in some ways, i guess, because other people didn’t have that. i had a clean cut in my life, before and after. and i see everything now. and it makes me angrier. because even the way i am, i’m still afraid of losing. i could have anything, and i’m still afraid of losing. 

#nightmare.personal #DO NOT REBLOG. #suicide tw #i don't know what to tag this i barely remember what i typed #like i'm reading it but i don't think it makes much sense #i see my therapist tomorrow and i just. i don't think it's going to go well. #delete later

[thetaleoflevi]

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Formality

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Pairing: Levi x Reader

Content: NSFW, Canon-verse

Content Warnings: 18+ smut, making out in a cleaning supply closet, hickeys, biting, sexual tension, Levi covers Reader’s eyes with his hand, unprotected sex (BE SAFE), slight degradation? Then praise??, 18+ smut x2

Word Count: 2.8k

Description: Levi hates the formality you use on him even when it’s just the two of you. After having heard you call him Captain, Captain Levi—anything that addressed him as a higher up enough times, he made sure to get it into your head that he doesn’t need that formality when it’s just you and him. You didn’t exactly hate his method.

A/N: I’m back!! This one is more NSFW than the last one. I think i’m just gonna keep comparing new fics to the last ones I posted. Jk, but one day i’ll write two fluffy fics in a row. Until then, i’m cursed with a dirty mind. Enjoy!

⭐️Taglist: @urfilgoth @ackermandick

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“We…we need to…Levi-“ your lips are enveloped by his, not allowing you to speak. You breathe out through your nose, unable to keep up with the capacity of his lungs.

“Levi? Levi…hold on.” You put your hands on his chest, pushing lightly.

“What? Everybody is outside training. Plus, I think we’re pretty hidden if there’s anyone still in the building. We live with pigs that only clean because I force them to.” He pulls your hands down by your wrists, holding them as he leans in once again.

You pull your right hand out of his grip and put your index finger against his lips.

“You may be right, but we can’t be doing this every day, Captain. You should be out there training the new cadets to fend for themselves when they have to, or teaching them how to work with their comrades. You’ve gotten pretty good at it, why don’t you pass some of your knowledge down.”

He rolls his eyes. He hates it when you get all formal with him.

“Fine. We’re not done here, though.” One of his hands comes up to cup your cheek, brushing his thumb against the soft skin while staring into your soul.

“Wait a minute or two before leaving,” he says quietly, as he opens the door.

It’s your turn to roll your eyes. You’ve done this plenty of times, and you’ve learned the quickest and safest way to protect Levi’s reputation when he pushes you into a cleaning supply closet with him.

“Captain Levi, why were you in the cleaning supply closet?” A soldier asks.

“Do you know how dumb you sound, right now?” He sticks the duster he took with him, out in front of him. “Why else would anyone go into the cleaning supply closet?”

You stifle a laugh. There are too many things that can be done in a cleaning supply closet. You both held a very steamy example a few minutes ago.

“Sorry, Captain,” the soldier gives him a salute, ready to return to his previous task, until something catches his eye on Levi’s neck.

“Why are you still standing there?” His eyebrows furrow in irritation before he looks down in the direction where the young soldier’s eyes land.

“Something fell on me as I was looking for this stupid thing.”

‘Great cover up, Captain.’ You think to yourself.

“Right. See you, Captain.” The soldier looks slightly uncomfortable. He doesn’t want to dig into this any deeper, in fear of being punished for his curiosity.

“Tch, idiot.” Levi leans against the doors of the closet, hoping you hear the words he’s about to say.

“You fucked up, brat. I don’t have time to go back in there to knock some sense into you, but be prepared for tonight.” He straightens his posture and heads for his office, buttoning his dress shirt all the way up to cover up his earlier escapade.

You don’t know what he has planned for later, but your perverted thoughts have you pressing your thighs together.

—

You spent the rest of the day avoiding Levi, at times not on purpose, but when you remember how he wants to get back at you for being lovingly aggressive, it makes you want to crawl into a hole.

There was a thick cloud of sexual tension between both of you. If you happened to be in the same room as him, working on tasks that were assigned to you, he would search for your gaze, or stare at you from across the room until you looked at him. There was a darkness to the way he looked at you, as if he would devour you right then and there if there weren’t people in the room. No one noticed it. To everyone it looked like a classic Captain Levi facial expression. No one got it but his favorite little soldier.

Your ears felt warm, and your heartbeat found refuge in your ears, thrashing like there’s no tomorrow. The gleam in his eyes made your stomach do front flips, back flips, even cartwheels.

He nodded and said his ‘uh-huh’s’ and ‘yeah’s’, to the higher-ups “conversing” with him, but he was looking at you dead on, with those stormy eyes.

“Thanks for the help, Hange. I should get these back to Commander Erwin, asap.”

“Hold on, hold on, hold on. Are you seeing what i’m seeing?” Their eyes have a brandished glint to them.

You turn to look at all the soldiers crowded in different groups.

“No, not really. What is it?” Your eyes widen when their hands grip your shoulders, and turn you in the direction of Levi, who is still undressing you with his eyes.

“What? It’s just Captain Levi and some section commanders.”

“It’s not just that. Levi is eating you up, darling. I’ve never seen him look at someone like that.”

They see it, too.

“I’m sure he just zoned out. Anyway, I gotta go. Thanks again, Hange.”

“Yeah, yeah. Get out of here before he pounces on you.”

They’re gonna have a field day about this new discovery.

—

“Hey. I thought I saw a filthy little thing roaming the halls. What do you need?”

You peek your head into his office, smiling before mumbling a quick,“Nothing, sir.”

You go back to pacing back and forth through the hallway.

“Get in here, Y/LN. You’re making me anxious.”z

You stop your pacing and slowly step into his office, a sheepish expression on your face.

“Close the door, and take a seat. I know you have something to say to me.”

The door clicks behind you, and you sit in the chair in front of his desk.

“I don’t have anything to tell you.”

“Then why were you pacing back and forth in the hallway?” He rests his chin on his palm, waiting for your response. You can’t even look him in the eyes without getting nervous.

“Sorry if it was distracting.”

“Your presence in general is distracting, for me, but I deal with it because no matter how much time I spend with you—how often I see you, the feeling will never go away.“

You smile, before chuckling shortly. He never fails to make you blush with his words.

“Thanks…” you take a second to think about how you should address him. “Thanks, Cap’.”

He nods, gaze lifting as you rise from your seat.

“I should get going. I’ll see you…when I see you.”

He gives you a hum of acknowledgment, heart shriveling when you give him a salute, turning before disappearing into the hall and within seconds, out of sight.

He never thought something like this would get to him. It’s somewhat childish the more he thinks about it—to be so disappointed in the way you regard him as someone who needs that kind of formality to feel important. He thought you were past this. Past Cap’, past Captain, past Captain Levi, past sir. At least when not in the presence of others.

He sighs, digging his fingers into his hair. You drive him crazy, and it takes so much to suppress the emotions that reside within him. He can remind you if he has to, that you and him have been more physically and emotionally intimate than what seems like anyone in the survey corps—past or present. Anything to make you feel like you can breathe around him.

—

The sky was on its last tinges of purple, almost going completely dark. You felt sluggish after you joined the later training session with other squads, feeling guilty for not attending the one you were designated earlier. You would have gone if Levi hadn’t felt the need to steal your breath.

You quietly step through the hall, avoiding the areas you know will creak to get to Levi’s office. You always forget the last creaking floorboard in front of his office and make yourself known.

You do the secret knock, and get pulled into the room within three seconds. Your eyes are immediately covered by Levi’s hand.

“Jeez, Cap’. What are you doing?” You stumble as you blindly walk backwards, leaning against his chest.

“Shh. Keep it down.” He pushes the door shut with his other hand.

“I can’t see you.” You whisper, trying to brush his hand off of your face.

“Stop.”

Your hand stays on his, but stops moving, and suddenly it all sinks in. You’re finally in his office, and it’s the end of the day, but he seems different. Off.

“Listen, Y/N. That’s all i’m asking you to do, right now.”

You stilled yourself as much as possible, your breath hitching with every spontaneous action of his. He gently pushes you against the wall, back facing him.

“I know you want me to listen, but i’m really sweaty, and you’re standing too close.”

“I don’t care about that right now, brat. I’m gonna get something into your head tonight.” His hand drags up your torso, unlatching the strap across your chest, before unbuttoning your shirt. His fingers crawl down your stomach to untuck your shirt. Every touch is enhanced, and being unable to see his movement makes it all the more thrilling. His hand trails even lower, unbuckling the belt around your waist and the ones that run down your sides.

“Keep your eyes on the wall for me. It’ll just take a second.” He takes his hand off your eyes. You squint at the minimal lighting in his office.

You hear the clanking of his belt being unbuckled and a lot of shuffling. Like he said, it was quick, and his hand was over your eyes again right after.

“I know I told you to be prepared, earlier, but I think there’s something more important to teach you. It’s something I really want you to know.”

He kisses the nape of your neck, slowly peeling part of the dirt-spotted shirt off of your shoulders. He kisses the bruises and cuts that litter your shoulders, expecting nothing less than some twitching from you, due to the remaining pain in those areas.

“I know,” he mumbles against your skin, leaving random wet kisses everywhere. While he continues kissing your shoulders and anywhere his lips can reach, his hand drops down towards the waistband of your trousers, lowering them along with your underwear.

He would’ve taken the time to completely remove your trousers and the straps around your legs if there was more time, but this was the best he could do in the moment.

He guides his tip towards your entrance, his hand brushing against your ass in the process, and makes sure to get enough of your arousal around his length to ensure that he doesn’t hurt you. You take a deep breath when he pushes in, your hands grabbing onto the wall to help balance yourself.

“Good girl, you’re doing great,” he whispers into your ear.

His hips begin slowly thrusting, each push and pull making it harder for you to keep quiet. You shudder at the feeling of his hand going beneath your bra to play with your nipples.

“C-Cap-”

“No,” he interrupts.

“Ca-”

“No,” he says, again.

You’re too focused on the stimulation to wonder why he won’t let you cry out for him.

“Who have you been listening to for the past ten minutes? If you get this, i’ll let you cum, but only if you get it.”

“Y-You, Captain Levi,” you moan, laying your forehead against the wall.

“Try again.”

“Oh, fuck… you, Captain,” your bottom lip gets caught between your teeth as Levi’s rhythm continues to work you up.

“Wrong. Again.”

“I’ve been listening to you, C-Cap. Please, let me cum.”

“I can’t let you do that. You’ve said everything but what I want to hear.”

You breathe shakily when his pace quickens.

“I’ll say anything! Tell me, and i’ll say it!”

You gasp at the way he bites on what your collar used to cover, and will have to work overtime to cover in the morning.

“It’s just us in here, right now, Y/N. That’s the only clue i’m going to give you. Who are you listening to?”

You lower your head, unable to think straight when he thrusts in and out of you so relentlessly.

“I can’t think…” You hiccup. His free hand lands on the wall just above your head.

“Lowering your head won’t help. Lift your head, you look pathetic.” You won’t do it so he does it for you, gently lifting your head with the hand he has on your eyes.

“There you go. Now say the word I want to hear. It’s so simple.”

“I don-“

“You’ve said it before. You can’t say you don’t know. You literally said it this morning.”

He kisses your shoulder shortly before biting it.

“Ah! L-Levi!”

“There you go. You know, you’ve always been my favorite. You get things so—ugh—quickly,” his hand lifts off your eyes, dropping to your bare shoulders. He pulls the shirt down, tapping your arms when he needs to pull them out of the sleeves. “Wasn’t so hard now, was it?”

“Mm-mm, no. I-It wasn’t.”

“Now say it again. That’s the only way I would like you to address me when it’s just you and I. N-None of that Captain shit.”

You pant, your hands turning to fists as his hands glide over every inch of your torso. His hands slither beneath your bra again, gently rolling your nipples between his thumb and index finger. Goosebumps cover your skin as he nibbles on the side of your neck, muttering filthy things in his sensual tone. Something about Humanity’s Strongest Solder taking his urges out on an insignificant soldier like you, turns you on even more. The power he holds—much, much more than what you have, becomes nothing when he’s holding you in the dim lighting like you’re his lifeline.

“Levi—fuck…”

“Just like…” he inhales sharply when you clench around him suddenly. “…like that.”

“Such a good girl for me. I’m so glad I get you to myself.” He kisses below your ear, kissing your temple after as he watches your lewd expression. “You’re my little secret.”

“Faster—mmh—please, Levi!”

“Shh…I’ll give you what you want if you stay quiet.”

You nod, whimpering when his pace increases. He puts a finger to your lips, a silent reminder for you to keep quiet.

“I don’t need to cover your mouth, do I? Those precious sounds of yours are for me. Only I should be able to hear them.”

“I’m gonna—fuck—I’m gonna cum Levi. I’m gonna cum. I’m gonna…”

Levi pulls you back against his chest, away from the wall. His hand covers your mouth, and all you can hear are your muffled moans and whimpers. Your nails claw at his forearms, and your legs feel weak.

“I-I’ve got you. I’ve got you,” he says, his arm wrapping around your waist to hold you up. Your cunt spasms around his length, the movement adding to the intensity his throbbing cock is feeling. “I’m sorry… I—oh fuck—I’m sorry… S-Sorry,” he says again and again as he rams into you mercilessly until he feels like he’s about to burst.

“Oh…f-fuck.” He pulled out of you seconds before he came. His seed paints a glossy splotch on your ass, and he watches breathlessly as it slides down the back of your thigh.

You let out a satisfied breath, turning around to see Levi for the first time that night. He looked uncharacteristically messy, sweat sliding down his temples, damp hair sticking to his forehead. His cheeks were bright red, matching yours.

“You’re an animal, Levi.” You chuckle, bending down to pick up your shirt, putting it on to fix your appearance so you don’t look like you just got railed by your Captain.

“I taught you a lesson. I got it in there, didn’t I?” He says, buttoning your shirt as you tuck it into your pants.

“Oh, yes. You definitely got it in there.” You fix the belt around your waist.

“Tch, filthy brat,” he mutters as he adjusts the belt around your chest, tightening it the appropriate amount.

“By the way, I think Hange knows about us. Or at least they know you have a crush on me.” You snicker at your purposefully horrible choice of words.

“I have a crush on you? Please. They don’t know anything.”

You scoff. “You definitely have a thing for me. You were checking me out earlier, and I was scared for my life. That’s how Hange found out. From what I heard, you’ve never looked at anyone the way you look at me.” You raise your eyebrows jokingly.

“Whatever. Go to bed brat. We have training early in the morning.”

“Goodnight…Captain Levi,” You tease, opening the door. You smile, slowly closing the door, laughing at the sight of him rolling his eyes through the small crack remaining, before it shuts.

#aot #attack on titan #captain levi #levi #levi ackerman #levi aot #shingeki no kyojin #fanfic #levi fic #levi x reader #levi x y/n #levi smut #levi ackerman smut #aot smut #aot levi #levi x you #aot x reader #aot x y/n #aot fic #aot fanfiction #shingeki no kyoujin levi #levi ackerman x y/n #snk levi #attack on titan levi

[sukirichi]

acquainted

You had no intentions of becoming acquainted with the clan your family had cut ties with, but when Naoya Zenin himself is willing to teach you a lesson and you’re determined to show him what you’re capable of, it becomes a silly game of power and dominance.

REQUEST. naoya putting reader back to her place

WARNINGS: Naoya Zenin, rough sex, orgasm denial, face fucking, slight voyeurism, degradation, slight bondage, cowgirl riding, manhandling, spanking, hate sex

WC. 5.4k+

NOTES. Because Naoya is my favorite, his fic is the only one I’ve ever edited, LOL. Even though this is requested, this is written out of self-indulgence, purely because I love Naoya and even though he’s nasty, he’s my comfort character. And freaking FINALLY I have written more for this man. I worship this King 👑

There were so many ways this day had gone wrong. First, your shower broke. Second, the maintenance men couldn’t come until late in the afternoon, so you had to drive all the way to school looking like a half-mess. You weren’t a slob, of course, but you were beyond irritable at the thought your hair felt greasier than most.

So when an unfamiliar mop of blonde hair sat at your place, the sight of pierced ears meeting your gaze as you smiled at the young man, you had to clutch your bag tighter. No need to be harsh to anyone; you reminded yourself.

“Hi,” you greeted as politely as you could.

The young man in your seat was handsome — terribly so — feline eyes emphasized with an eyeliner, and stunning green eyes that peered up at you with utmost boredom. He looked familiar, but you couldn’t pinpoint where you’d seen him before.

“I believe you’re in my seat.”

You expected he’d kindly take another seat since the hall was empty, but he only leaned back in your seat, brow raised with a slight smirk. “So?”

Your mouth fell agape, hands falling at your sides. Who was this guy? “What do you mean, so? Get the fuck out of my seat.”

“Women,” he rolled his eyes, “Always so tempered and dirty mouthed,” the words felt like stinging slap in your face, and he easily read through you when he snickered to himself, waving a hand in the air as if he was swatting a fly away. “I’m already sitting here, so go find someplace else. I came here first.”

“You little — who do you think you are?”

“Who do you think you are for speaking to me? Did I give you permission?”

His condescending voice made you lunge at him if not for your friend’s hand wrapping at your arm, shooting worried glances over the guy. His smirk deepened when your friend pulled away, the words mutter under her breath. “Come on, let’s go,” she tugged you away despite your protests, pushing your shoulders down to make you sit. Once out of earshot, she rolled her eyes. “I seriously hate that guy. Don’t you ever involve yourself with him.”

“Who’s that prick anyway? He acts so high and mighty like he’s some rich daddy’s son. Look, he’s totally claiming my seat as his!”

“That’s Naoya Zenin, and yeah, he is some rich daddy’s son,” she confirmed, shivering at the mere mention of his name. “He’s an absolutely big misogynist. Don’t be fooled by his pretty face — he’s the worst fuckboy to ever exist. That dick of his isn’t worth getting fucked over. He’s already made half the women in school cry and run after him like a horde of lovesick zombies,” your friend gagged with a shake of her head, “It’s terrifying, actually.”

“Fucking asshole,” you hissed under your breath, sending side glances at the corner of your eye.

That stupid guy was still in your seat, a bored expression on his handsome face, his long lashes fluttering against his cheeks at every blink. He just had to be a sexist pig with that gorgeous face — no good men existed anymore. “Whatever. He’ll get a taste of his own medicine soon.”

“Whatever it is you’re planning, I wouldn’t recommend it.”

“I’m doing this for all of us,” you announced with your spine straightened. “I’m not letting a man walk like that acting like he’s got the whole world at his feet. I’ll teach him a lesson or two.”

“You do know he can sue you if you punch him right?”

“Who said I was going to punch him?” a smirk painted your lips at the same time he felt your eyes burning holes at the side of his face, your expression even more triumphant when he tilted his head to the side, eyebrow cocked at your gaze. He must’ve assumed you’d fallen for his looks judging by the satisfied smile on his face, making you laugh because it would be fun to teach him a lesson.  “No, I have a much more interesting plan in mind.”

It turned out that Naoya wasn’t that much of a stranger.

You had his reputation to thank for — people spoke his name left and right that it was nearly impossible not to know of him. It had you wondering how you managed to live through university so long without knowing him when the name drowned you; he was a Zenin.

No wonder that name was so familiar.

The Zenin’s were a close business partner of your family, but they cut off ties with their company years ago due to them having an intolerable attitude. Clearly, it ran in the blood, and their heir manifested it so well.

Thoughts of Naoya and his stupid face were soon drowned out by expensive champagne, the golden liquid sparkling in your hands. You had to attend this dinner gala where businessmen and powerful families alike conjoined for a formal opportunity of forming connections and solidifying deals, pressuring you to be at your best behaviour lest you wanted your black card to be cut off.

You made your way through the crowd to get another one of those hors d oeuvres, opting to just sit in the corner while you watched your family plaster on big, fake smiles with even louder, faker laughter.

It was quite sad, really, that people had to do stuff like this, but who were you to complain when it was what fed you on a silver plate all the time?

For now, you just wanted to enjoy the new dress your mother had gotten you, the silk black material hugged around your curves delectably. Pearl drop earrings hung to frame the sides of your face, legs lengthened and accentuated with stiletto heels.

You felt sexy — especially when you got lingering gazes from men who were slightly older and definitely richer, though you made no move.

The last thing you wanted was to become someone’s trophy wife when you could become so much more.  Plus, only your parents had the task of befriending people and building trust with others. You were only here to help represent the name somewhat with your pretty face, not really having much of an intention to be acquainted with anyone.

You swiped another glass of fizzy alcohol from the waiter that passed by, glossy red lips pinched around the glass when a sultry voice mused at your ear, “Still can’t find a seat?”

Swirling around so fast that the contents nearly poured out the glass, you weren’t surprised to see Naoya fucking Zenin stood before you, his tall stature draped in only the finest and hand-stitched three piece suit.

He looked absolutely delectable this way, earrings glimmering under the golden chandeliers and eyes lined with kohl, the aura of elegance that perfectly concealed his less than pleasing personality excessively charming.

You were beyond appalled.

“Still can’t find a brain?” you retorted with a roll of your eyes, eyes still narrowed at Naoya’s displeased ones as you dunk your drink in one go. “What are you doing here, pig?”

“I’ll let that comment slide once — only because you look hot tonight,” his predatory gaze ran over your form, the careful pattern of him pausing at the swell of your breasts sliding to the curve of your hips heating up each inch of your skin. “And it’s Naoya for you. Naoya Zenin, the rightful heir of the Zenin Corp—”

“What’s that scent you’re wearing? Baby powder? Fitting for your cute face, actually.”

Naoya’s jaw clenched, clearly unaccustomed to people cutting off his holiness, and you had to bite down on your lip to prevent the chuckles from slipping through. “It’s Tom Ford.”

“Hmm, why am I not surprised? My horrible ex also wore the same scent. Maybe it’s a trademark for all limp losers, huh?” Naoya opened his mouth to speak, but you beat him to it, stepping forward to grab at the space between his tie to pull him down. His face was mere centimetres away from you, close enough that his breath ghosted over your lips, the intense anger flaring through those eyes hot enough to burn you. “You act so smug and defensive, Naoya. Trying to have a big man personality to conceal a small dick?”

“I have nothing to prove to you.”

“You don’t need to prove me anything,” you glanced down at his pants with a smirk, ignoring the heat pulsing in your veins because the sight contradicted your words. There was a noticeable bulge inside those shiny black slacks, though the last thing you wanted him to see was the way your mouth watered in anticipation. “I already know what I need to know.”

“Yeah? You and your shitty girlfriends can’t stop talking about my dick?”

You shrugged sarcastically, “You know women. We’re tireless complainers.”

Naoya’s jaw ticked upon you using his words against him, his hands coming up to caress at your neck, his nails scratching behind the thick silver chain you wore.

From afar and in the eyes of others, people would’ve thought you and Naoya were simply getting a little too heated, his lips dipped to graze your ear while his slender fingers pressed a little tighter into your air pipe. Your positions could easily be mistaken for Naoya seducing you, and you supposed he was, since your body responded differently from your verbal protests.

“You should watch what you’re saying,” he warned, voice low with warning. “I could easily dump your body into a river and no one would even notice. In fact, maybe the world might even thank me for doing them a service and ridding them of a spiteful woman like you.”

“Oh, pretty boy,” you chuckled back and stood to your tippy toes. One of your hands wrapped around his neck to forcefully tilt his neck to yours, nose pressed above his collar to inhale the intoxicating masculine scent he wore. “You’re all bark and no bite. Why don’t you show me what you’re capable of? If you’re as awful as they make you out to be, maybe I’ll shiver enough to drop my panties for you.”

You didn’t miss the way Naoya’s hands gripped at your waist to pull you close, enticing you to continue with your insults because maybe Naoya liked this a lot more than he let on. Could it be his superiority complex didn’t always like submissive women, after all?

Well, it would make sense; everyone always liked a little challenge, didn’t they?

If that was what he wanted, then you’d be generous enough to grant it to him.

“Wouldn’t you like to get a chance to put me in my place, to teach me a lesson for defiling the oh-so-mighty Naoya Zenin?” you purposefully toned your voice down to a more breathy tone, your chest swelling with pride when Naoya sucked in a sharp inhale beside your ear.

God, he sounded beautiful — and you hadn’t even fucked him yet. Now, you were eager to hear what else those disgusting lips could be capable of other than degrading you.  

Pulling away from him just to bat your lashes at him, heat pooled straight into your core when Naoya’s gaze had completely darkened, dark orbs pooled with lust and anger. Only he could make such an expression look so good.

“You don’t scare me, Zenin. You’re nothing but a small boy wearing big man pants.”

For a moment, your smile widened, believing that you’d won this time around. Naoya was still breathing hard at each brush of your stomach to his now hardening erection, but then he smirked and gently pushed you away from him. “I’m not fucking you here,” he stated calmly, not even bothering to keep his voice low. “You’re a lot dumber than I thought you’d be if you really think I’m whipping my cock out during this dreadful dinner.”

“This dreadful dinner you speak of is an opportunity for people like us to establish connections. I would’ve assumed you wanted nothing more to impress others but it seems I was wrong. If you hate this event so much, why bother coming here in the first place?”

“Just had a feeling I was going to meet a little minx,” he watched you seductively, his smirk adorned with his tongue peeking out to lick his lips — in turn wetting you in places he promised to make his by the end of the night. Curse him, you chanted in your head, curse him for being so attractive. It would’ve been easier if he was ugly. “And as always, I’m right.”

You tilted a brow, slightly impressed. “So you’ve done your background check on me. That doesn’t explain why you’re still here though. Surely a woman couldn’t be enough for a reason to make a man like you go all this way?”

“You’re right, a woman would never be a good enough reason, but I wanted to put you in your place,” his eyes flickered back up to you, now twinkling with danger and something else entirely. “Bad little girls need to be a taught to a lesson.”

“So what’re you waiting for? Go ahead and show me your ways, Zenin.”

“I will,” he nodded to himself, “I’m about to,” Naoya was nothing but confident as he strode your way until his arms was locked with yours, his breath tickling your collarbones that had unknowingly exposed itself at each heated touch. “You’re not that bad for a slut. You look like one, smell like one — I bet you also feel like one.”

A dry laugh left your lips as you fisted his shirt, mirroring his smirk to show that if a match was what he looked for, then a match he’d find indeed. Only this time, you would be worse.

“Why don’t you go ahead and find out?”

Naoya, despite being an absolutely poor excuse of a human being, was somewhat redeemable for being a man of his words. Find out he did, and he wasted no time into shoving you inside his McLaren, barely able to keep his hands off you the whole way up to his penthouse.

It was a blurry mess from there.

Moans spilled from your lips while he ripped your clothes off, not bothering to apologize that he’d just ruined one of your most prized possessions, his lust-clouded haze mumbling that he’d just buy you another one.

It was the last thing you expected to hear from him, but you couldn’t protest, not when he’d angrily snapped the buttons of his shirt away, a low growl mixing with your breathy whines as he loosened his tie.

Your eyes widened at the sight, legs rubbing together as you imagined what else he could do with that pretty tie of his.

Would he tie you to his bed, fuck you stupid and call you useless? Or perhaps, you could do it?

Naoya cut off your train of thought by pushing you back to his mattress, his hands tugging at his belt before he pulled his boxers down, his thick length slapping at his abdomen. Your mouth immediately watered at the sight. You were beyond wet from nothing but your sloppy make-out sessions, but would he fit?

Just the thought of him giving you that burning stretch made your legs spread beside his sides, the sardonic laughter ripping from Naoya’s lips absolutely disgusting.

“Fucking pathetic. You’re just like everyone else; submitting to me at the sight of my cock, but that’s not true, is it? Moment you saw me, I knew you were clenching around nothing,” he gripped at your jaw to force you to look at him. You glared up at him from his bruising hold, your cheeks squished under his rough hands. “But that’s okay; wanting me is not something you should be ashamed about. Although you should be thanking me I’m even letting you near me like this.”

“I’m so honoured. Come on, Naoya, let me feel you — let me make you feel good.”

Naoya, too lost in his ego, missed the sarcasm dripping in your voice. “So eager to be my cock sleeve, huh?” he grinned, tugging at your hair to push you deeper into his mattress.  “Get on your knees. Now suck.”

He was too harsh in his pace, determined to exert his dominance over you. You could feel every ridge of his vein as he continued fucking into your mouth, his abs rippling above you. It felt like witnessing a Greek god come apart, and you took pleasure in being his ruin, prompting you to hollow your cheeks and bob your mouth up and down on his cock harder.

Naoya’s chuckles were broken and often mixed with curses of fuck, you feel so fucking good, his nails now scratching at your scalp.

Soon, Naoya stilled inside you, his hold around your head deadly to keep you in place. Tears flowed down your face as he kept thrusting inside, making sure to hit the back of your throat before his muscles tightened. Spurts of warm cum followed after that, but instead of swallowing it like you expected he’d command you to do, Naoya whipped out his cock and came all over your face, his seed shooting all over your cheeks and lips.

You took it all obediently, just enough to give him the false pretense of submissiveness that he was so willing to force from you.

While he was occupied pumping his still rock hard cock, eyes closed and massaging your scalp almost soothingly, Naoya failed to notice your hurried movements of standing from the bed, fingers looped around his tie.

A small wail resonated from him when you shoved him down onto the bed, knees locked at either sides of his waist before you tugged at the cloth wrapped around his neck. Naoya kicked his legs behind you as you tied his wrists to the bed hard enough that Naoya winced, the tie only forming tighter at each lame grapple of his.

You looked back at how he got more beautiful laid out in front of you like that, chest heaving up and down while he struggled against the restraints, face flushed with anger — no, this wasn’t anger anymore — he was furious.

“What are you doing?! Get this off me — how dare you!”

“How dare you,” you spat back, discarding your lace bra off to wipe his cum away from your face, gagging when the bitter cum left a tang on your lips. “I just got my skin appointment last week and you came on my face like that?”

Naoya kept fighting back before he realised it was a futile attempt, leaning back down onto the pillows, though that didn’t soften his heated eyes on yours. You cooed at how adorable he submitted to you, running a finger down the sides of his jaw. “Aw, don’t look so angry, baby. I’m just starting my fun,” you purred, “You should’ve known better than to mess with me, Naoya. I’m not as nice as the others. And I’ll show you just how awful I can be.”

Naoya’s breath hitched when you shimmied out of your underwear, a dark glint in your eyes as you stretched the elastic into a fake arrow until it snapped into his face.

“You fucking bitch,” he growled, turning his face away from your panties soaked with arousal. “Once I get out of here, I will ruin you.”

“Huh, yeah, sure,” you mumbled incoherently, too lost in the pleasure as you sunk down on his cock. You were right, he was fucking thick, stretching you out better than any of your toys could. Plus, he was warm and leaking with pre-cum that he slid in easily, erotic groans leaving both your mouths once he was finally seated inside you.

Naoya was growling at you to let go of him when you laughed, lifting your hips up slowly before sliding back down on him just as slow, almost as if you made love to his cock the same passionate way you did with a lover. “You do have a wonderful cock, though. I’ve never felt this good in my life,” you leaned down to lick a stripe down to his neck, allowing him to hear the needy pants you graced with him. “You feel so good, Naoya, oh. If you weren’t such an asshole, I might even fall in love with you.”

“Go faster. This is unfair!”

Naoya tried thrusting deep into you, evidently unsatisfied at this torturous pace you set, but you only gripped at his thigh in warning, your eyes no longer sweet as you glared at him.

“Nothing’s ever fair in this world, sweetheart,” you reminded him, shivering every now and then as you bounced on his cock, his length slipping past through your walls magically. “Like how such a gorgeous face and amazing dick is paired with the most disgusting personality ever. No, it’s not fair, indeed...”

You closed your eyes with your head thrown back, placing your hips flat on his pelvic bone instead, fingers rubbing at your clit while Naoya throbbed inside you, desperate for release.

The little whines you gave were nothing but mocking. You knew that Naoya suffered through this position, but did you care? Absolutely not. With Naoya’s cock stretching you full and his tip kissing your most sensitive spots, in addition to your fingers rubbing and tweaking at your clit, this was the most pleasure you’d ever gotten from sex.

You were stimulated everywhere, your other hand reached up to tug at your hardened nipples.

Your walls clenched around him, signalling him that you were close and you let out a broken moan, falling forward to gyrate your hips around his cock to push you over the edge. It wasn’t enough to get him off since you were mostly still fondling with your clit, the sounds of your moans like torture to his ears.

“No, don’t you dare cum, I swear if you—” Your orgasm washed over you comfortingly like a warm blanket. Instead of seeing white, it was like your vision cleared, the sight of the sweat that made Naoya’s hair stick to his forehead in clumps crystal clear. You prolonged your orgasm by thrusting your hips in a sickening rhythm of thrust, pause, thrust, stop ­— and by then Naoya was losing his mind.

Naoya lost control as he snapped his hips upwards inside you hard enough that you winced in pain, pushing off his dick until he’s left humping the empty air, his body drenched with perspiration. “No, no, no, fuck you! Get back here you useless slut!”

You lay beside him, giggling in post-orgasm bliss. Just to tease him, you rolled to his side to press a kiss to his cheek, laughing harder when your lips came in contact with his flushed skin.

“You’re so adorable like this,” you cupped his face tenderly, perfectly aware that Naoya had begun to growl, his wrists almost bruised from how hard he brawled against his tie. “If I didn’t hate you so much, I would’ve let you cum inside me,” you offered with a pat to his chest, moving off the bed with wobbly legs.

“Well, whatever, that was fun. I would say we both had the most sensual sex of our lives, but that would be a joke for you, don’t you think?” you snorted as you inserted your arms to his discarded suit jacket.

Naoya stayed still on the bed, his cock still painfully hard and slick with your cum. “Don’t look so angry, Naoya. You had it coming for you. Don’t worry, though, as a thanks for letting me cum that hard — though I mostly did all the work — I’ll keep this between us so you at least get to keep whatever’s left of your dignity,” you blew a kiss his way, “Bye, sweetie. At least now I know people weren’t exaggerating when they called you a good fuck.”

Not bothering to slip your heels back on, you looped your shoes into the curls of your fingers, about to button Naoya’s jacket as you made your way to his door.

You never got halfway across the room when strong arms suddenly lifted you off the ground, your vision transitioning from his door to the pads of his feet, your body slung across his shoulder. Naoya gripped at your ass in warning when you kicked your legs, leaving him with no choice but to hug your thighs with one arm.

The next thing you knew, he slammed the balcony doors open with one hand and slammed you on the pool table. His rough hands yanked his jacket away from your body, the chilly night of the air bringing a shiver down your spine as it hit your drenched core.

Naoya had pinned your arms flat on your back in a painful angle, making you cry out just as he kneed your legs open, his free hand that wasn’t pinning you down aligning his cock against your hole. You were a moaning mess underneath him, the pain only an intoxicating addition to the pleasure he was pounding into you. Naoya then leaned to whisper your ear, the sudden movement making his cock slide deeper into you, the pleasure overwhelming.

“Oh, Naoya, fuck—”

“I am not just a good fuck,” he corrected you, “I am Naoya Zenin — and you will do well being silent and submissive while I fuck you, do you understand?” You were too lost in the feeling of him rutting deep into you that he had you seeing white this time around. When you didn’t answer, Naoya slapped your ass, your yelps echoing from the dead night. “I asked you a question.”

“No,” you bit back, “I refuse to—” you were silenced when Naoya hit your sweet spot, laughing at your state that you were too fucked out to give him a proper answer.

Naoya’s pace was merciless as he fucked deeper into you, the hand on your ass moving up to grab at your waist to keep slamming you back to his cock. He watched as your lips sucked him in so tight that he didn’t know whether you were pushing him out or refusing to let go. Turning your head to the side to gasp for air, you opened your eyes, only to be met by the sight of men crowding on the building across yours to witness your undoing by Naoya’s hands.

“I’ve barely started and you’re already so wet for me,” he mocked in your ear. As if on cue, squelching sounds accompanied your desperate moans, hands grabbing at nothing in particular. “Shall I try upping my speed?”

“N-Naoya- there are people looking.”

“Let them see,” he seethed, using one arm to lift your other leg up to the table to gain him more access into your warm, wet cavern. The sudden stretch made your muscles ache until you lay there limp; jaw clenched at the pleasure Naoya drowned you with. “Let them know how much I’m making this pussy mine. Gosh, can you hear yourself? You sound like a dirty fucking slut,” another slap landed on your ass, hard enough to leave a mark there for tomorrow. “You claim to hate me, so then why are you dripping all over me, huh? Pathetic whore. You women are nothing but cum dumps to me.”

Naoya spread your butt cheeks open, laughing at the silly way you clenched around him every time he pulled out, your puffy lips sucking him back again until Naoya buried himself to the hilt. His dick did wonders in letting out the most erotic whines and whimpers you never thought you’d be capable of, leaving you a drooling and panting mess under him.

“You little fucker, don’t even think about cumming inside me, I will literally castrate you and feed your balls to yourself.”

“Such a dirty mouth. Though that’s expected of a nasty woman like you,” he sassed, his thrusts faltering while his hand clenched your flesh tighter. That was enough to send you over the edge when Naoya slammed his hips harder and more desperately this time around, his cock twitching against your walls. “You wish I would cum inside you. But I have a better plan in mind.”

All it took was one rough hand for him to pull you before him, pushing you down into your knees again as he came inside your mouth. You could feel your cum and his dripping onto his dark marble tiles, the white pool of liquid shining.

Naoya thrusted lazily into your mouth, a sickening grin on his face while he kept you down there. His glare deepened when you tried to pull away from him. “Swallow, you slut. Or I’m fucking your face until I break your jaw.”

Furiously, you swallowed around his cock, Naoya groaning at the feeling of your walls convulsing around him. The moment you gagged from when his tip poked the back of your throat, Naoya pushed you off him until you were left choking on the ground. You gasped for air, hands clasped around your neck, sure that you were going to have a sore jaw and a fucked throat tomorrow.

You kept glaring at Naoya, but this didn’t deter him from gripping your chin down, humming to himself upon seeing that his cum was now gone in your mouth. “Hmm, so you did swallow it like a good girl. I’m glad I’ve disciplined you well.”

“Go to hell.”

“I’m King there already, baby,” Before you could retort, his arms encircled your waist until you were heaved in his arms again. You pounded against his back because you were too done, you couldn’t do another round. Naoya sighed as he threw you in the bed as if you were a ragdoll, disappearing in the bathroom for a while before coming back with a wet towel, which he rudely flicked your way. “Clean yourself up and then leave. Take the back elevators. I don’t want the staff to see a whore leaving my place.”

“You’re the one who brought me here.”

“Only because I had a duty to put you in your place,” He stared at you with his smirk now permanent in his face, admiring the bruises he left on your body.

“We’re not over yet, Zenin. I’m going to break you one way or another.”

You rolled your eyes at him, walking to his closet to wear one of his shirts. Naoya was silent the whole time as he watched you button his shirt with trembling hands, his presence hot on your heels as he followed you out the large room.

As you were about to leave, you picked up the towel you used to clean your cum with and threw it right at his face.

Naoya dodged it easily, eyeing the towel with a scoff. “Still resilient, I see,” settling down on one of his lounge chairs like it was a throne, Naoya rested his cheek on his fist as he stared you down. “But fine — I accept your challenge. A true man never backs down from a challenge, after all.”

“Oh, honey, I’m more than just a challenge,” you sneered.

Naoya’s gaze left your eyes to stare at your perky nipples that poked through his shirt, feeling his cock swell all over again. But he was a man of control and dignity — he wouldn’t do anything more with you, not when it was clear you’ve had enough for tonight.

It didn’t bother him though, he knew he’d have more opportunities to put you in your place.

“We’ll see about that. I’ll be the one to decide your worth,” he declared oh so smugly, the mere sound of his voice pushing you to slam a fist to ruin that pretty face of his, though you held your ground, far too tired to move a muscle. Naoya saw this too, and he smiled to himself, head tilted to the side as he studied the mess he’d made of you. “Tomorrow, same time same place?”

There was no telling what pushed you to agree, but the words left your lips far too confidently for you to even wonder why.

“Be ready for me, Zenin.”

“I always am.”

All the way back to the back elevators that Naoya had directed you at, you pondered on how you’d be able to tell your parents you suddenly needed a ride home when they had no idea you left the dinner gala in the first place. But most of all, how were you supposed to tell them you’d acquainted yourself with the Zenin clan all over again?

#naoya zenin x reader #naoya zenin #naoya zenin x reader smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen smut #naoya zenin smut #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen x reader smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader imagines #naoya zenin imagines #naoya zenin x reader imagines #naoya zenin x you #naoya x you #zenin naoya #jujutsu kaisen naoya zenin #naoya zenin x you smut #naoya zenin x reader romance #naoya x reader romance #NAOYA SUPREMACY #suki: 500 milestone event #ayyyy i swear all of my naoya fics are my favorite like DUH #suki: queued

[sandsorghum]

Kinktober Day 20 - Adult Toys, Part One

#Smuterdays

Hope you like Fluff with your Filth, you animals.

So you want to spice things up in the sheets with them? Let's see what they make of your suggestions. Also, I've included specific types of toys for...inspiration but no, this is not sponsored by any adult toy company teehee.

Characters aged up: Yuuji, Nobara and Megumi. Find the 2nd Years here

YUUJI

How they react: When you initially suggest it, this sweet summer child is totally flustered, although you and Yuuji have been physically intimate for close to a year now. You’re not each other’s firsts, but he’s still relatively new to sex, you might be only the third or fourth person he’s been with so there’s a bit of a learning curve, but you’re happy to teach him! Yuuji confesses that he’s always found it hot when porn actors use them and you admit that you already own a rabbit vibrator. He doesn’t know what that is so you pull up a Google picture for him. He asks you how it works and blushes so hard (!!) when you promise to give him a demonstration one day. But right now, what you want is something you can share together, to explore how much more fun you two can have. Yuuji is eager to please, everything you’ve introduced him to has always turned out to be really rewarding, both in and out of bed; whether that’s a new TV show, street food snack or edgeplay. Turns out, this is no exception. He leaves the recommendations up to you, but insists on ordering it online since he’s still too shy to even think about sex in public.

What you get: A clitoral suction toy, because he’s always wanted to try multi-tasking by fucking and sucking you off, and seeing your expression. This way Yuuji doesn’t have to choose one over another. It takes some practice to coordinate the perfect amount of pressure, but you love every single step. Since you started using them together, Yuuji cums extra hard in you and his loads increase, much to your pleasant surprise. Over time, you two build an extensive and diverse collection of sex toys. Even if it’s technically not your favourite anymore, you still retain a soft spot for the toy that started it all and Yuuji tends to use it when he’s feeling particularly romantic.

NOBARA

How they react: She thinks they are redundant, and she has multiple nights of evidence to support her case. “Well my fingers have always been more than good enough for me. For you too, by the way.” It’s not that her confidence is unwarranted, but you want to try something different. You secretly suspect you’re not as skilled as her, so this is you compensating and trying to close the gap. She’s reluctant but also kinda curious, wondering if it’s anywhere close to being as good as it sounds in those videos she uses a VPN to watch. You know about them, but don’t say anything. It’s never been a problem and it seems she learns a couple of useful things from them. Nobara might retain her pride until you bribe her with a new pair of shoes or matching jewellery set. ("How about wearing just this next time we have some fun?" Her smirk is all the promise you need.) Even when she finally agrees, there’s a condition that she gets final say on what you buy. She has no compunctions about browsing for something like that in public, but you end up ordering it online since there’s more variety. Plus, Nobara has ultra specific tastes.

What you get: She realizes she’s really glad you goaded her into this though, as she lays gasping on her back, trying to have some semblance of thought despite the consecutive orgasms wrung from her body thanks to your tongue and the recently bought glass wand. The temperature play is new and exhilarating, you alternate between the warm strokes and cool, gentle puffs of air against her clit, with the occasional kiss thrown into the mix for good measure. You can taste more of her than ever, but you want to push her past satiation. Not only are you about to break the record for the combined number of climaxes you share in a single session, but for the first time Nobara is the one who’s come the majority of the times. “Look at you, you’re so beautiful for me,” you murmur. You found out pretty early on about her praise kink, which she didn’t admit to so much as announce it. But you genuinely mean every compliment. Nobara glances down at the steady slide of the toy in and out of her, face flushed. She sees the glass glistening with her juices, firelight reflecting from the scented candles decorating the room. You knew she was nervous about trying something new tonight, so you were determined to go the extra mile to set the mood. You lick the wand, relishing in Nobara’s taste, a string of spit replacing the shine on it, suspended between the rod and her cunt. Of course the original source is far superior, and the enticing scent emanates from her folds, which she is trying to spread in order to cram her fingers in. You laugh at her impatience and she shoots you a deathly glare. “Baby, that defeats the whole purpose of tonight,” you tease prying her fingers away and committing her whine to memory. Your name substitutes a plea. “What’s the matter, regretting I didn’t convince you to try this earlier? Well, better late than never, right?” Her hands fist against your scalp. “Same’s true for cumming. Put your mouth to better use, you’re ruining the mood.” You smirk, aware that the dirty talk has the opposite effect on her, as much as she denies it. But you acquiesce, you can never really resist, not for long. Besides, you’re intent on breaking that record, and even more eager to learn how she’ll return the favour soon.

MEGUMI

How they react: Megumi is surprised at first when you raise your request, and feels a flicker of insecurity. Is he not pleasing you enough in bed that you need…supplements? You know him well enough to address this concern before he expresses it, and tell him that it’s not the tool but the person handling it, that you’ve never been closer or trusted any other partner enough to ask for this, and you’ve never known if they really cared to prioritise your pleasure over their own. But with Megumi this is as obvious as his smooches up your thigh in broad daylight during the mornings, when he wakes you up with little licks to your nipples and nibbles over your collarbone. You can't seem to mind getting up early as much now. Megumi is reassured and convinced after that conversation, plus pretty excited to do some research and get closer to you during that process. When it comes to actually buying them Megumi would much prefer to purchase them online, but you tell him you want to get the vibe (literally) of a particular toy, to see how strong it is, if the size would fit, etc. Megumi will give in and you two make a date to head to the shop that has garnered lots of good reviews in the forums you looked up.

What you get: Something simple and subtle, like an egg or bullet vibrator, with a generous variety of settings. It's so like Megumi to (want to) be prepared for every possible situation in love or war, or want as many options as available. You teasingly make the cheeky observation that he shouldn't expect a single sex toy to function like his Shikigami, or is he gonna amass a collection so he can summon an orgasm from you in any scenario?

"Ever think maybe all I need from you is your Great Serpent, hm?"

Yea..he's gonna be too embarrassed by the association to get out Orochi for a while, oops.

Extended Smutty drabble below, because I love how Humiliation looks on him:

On the Saturday that you’re going to make your trip, Megumi greets you at the front door and his style is…surreptitious, to say the least. Your boyfriend usually wears two colours at most, or typically dark clothes. But today he’s dressed head to toe in black, with a large hoodie over his head and sunglasses so dark and opaque you can’t see his eyes at all. By contrast, you’re wearing what you usually would on any other date, a brightly coloured sundress or maybe a cute crop top that bares your midriff just a little, paired with high-waisted jeans. You can’t help but laugh at the fashion choices Megumi has made. “Babe, you’re going to look like a stalker or something! And isn’t it 32 degrees outside?” “ ’S fine,” Megumi mumbles, pulling you through the door. “Let’s go.” His hand is wonderfully warm, though you’re not sure if that’s the weather or his shy disposition today. It feels good, either way. You do get a few stares on the train, the old saying ‘opposites attract’ is probably proving true for a lot of the strangers who glance curiously at you. From the outside you two may look like an odd couple but Megumi is definitely yours and you’re his, and you’re determined for the world to know this. So you lean your head on his shoulder throughout the ride, or clasp his hand, and even give him a peck on the cheek when you arrive at the appropriate station. It’s not a far walk to the store from where you alight, but Megumi keeps casting about furtive glances like he's on the lookout for enemy combatants or sneak attacks. At least until you reach the shop entrance and he hurriedly steps inside. You notice his quick, tense movements and decide you’re definitely going to tease him in bed later about this. As you wander the aisles looking for what you want, Megumi sticks really close to you, like really close. He’s not very clingy per se during your regular dates, but really likes to be touching you one way or other, by linking pinkies for example or having his arm draped around your shoulder. Now, however, it’s like you have a literal shadow following your every step. You pick something off a shelf and ask Megumi what he thinks of it. When he responds it’s in a low hush. You know it’s not intentional but you feel a shiver down your spine, his voice can get so sexy when it’s deep and quiet. After maybe about 20 minutes since your search began, Megumi seems to relax a little - that is until a friendly shop assistant comes over and he seizes up completely. “Hiya! How can I assist you on your journey of self-discovery or on your couple's carnal quest today?” You giggle at the unusual phrasing and the employee smiles, explaining it’s the company's code of conduct tagline they greet all customers with. “So do you two need any help or recommendations?” “Ah yea, we’re experimenting for the first time,” you ignore Megumi’s squirming and soft embarrassed whine by your ear. “Actually do you have this item in stock?” You pull up a picture on your phone. “Ah good choice! That’s one of our most popular products, great for couples just starting out and exploring how to incorporate toys in their sex life. Let me see, unfortunately I think we just sold our last one, but I can suggest a similar model. It’s in the Ladies Only Browsing section though.” “That’s all right. Mind waiting here for me, Megu- sweetheart?” You catch yourself before using his real name, suspecting that that might be a step too far, even though you have him whipped and wrapped around your finger. You know he minds from how he’s fidgeting but he nods, muttering “Don’t take too long, please” and returns his gaze to the floor. You give him a quick kiss to thank him for his patience before following the shop assistant to a curtained off area of the store. When you emerge ten minutes later, you spot Megumi holding a box in his hands, inspecting it. You sidle up to him, whispering “Whatcha got there handsome?” and he startles at your sudden presence, dropping the box. Faster than him, you scoop it up and examine it before he can grab it back. Cat

ears and…a tail? You look closer. Oh, it’s actually a plug. You smirk at your flustered boyfriend as he wrests the box back from you and dumps it back on the shelf. Stepping close you whisper, “Hmm, so you want to make me your little kitten, Megumi? If I had nine lives I’d spend them all with you, cause I know you’d make me purr in each of them.” Megumi grips your wrist and growls, “Are you done?” You grin at him, all his shame has dissipated, you know you’ve succeeded in tipping him over the edge from agitated to aroused. With any luck you’ll be disciplined for this when you two get home. You nod and head to the counter together, joining the queue. “Did you find what you were looking for?” “Close enough.” You hold up a navy blue bullet vibe with lilac detailing “Pretty isn’t it? Kinda reminded me of that one shirt you have.” You’re sure you can feel the heat radiating off Megumi’s cheeks as he squeaks, “Yea I know which one.” He tries to bury his blush against your shoulder, mumbling, “That the main reason you got it?” You chuckle, threading your hand through his. “Sure, and it was on sale.” “Oh.” “You sure you don’t want to pick up anything? They’re having a membership promotion with a minimum purchase deal.” You see him consider it for a moment before shaking his head. By now you’ve reached the front of the line so you fish out your purse. “I got this,” Megumi says with a small smile. Your heart skips a beat. His wallet is bulging and looks bigger than usual. You realize that’s because it’s stuffed with at least thirty bills, of varying but large denominations. The cashier shoots him a quizzical look. “Sir, just so you know we do accept cards, both credit and debit.” “Ah sorry, I left mine at home,” Megumi responds nonchalantly. Liar, you think. He had used one for the metro. “We also have mobile payment options.” “Phone’s dead.” he says shortly with a shrug. “I see. How unfortunate. We actually have a 30% discount for customers who pay via this app,” the employee elaborates, gesturing at a nearby sign. You recognise that app. Megumi recognises the app. He uses it quite frequently actually, especially on grocery runs. He looks at you for a moment but you don’t say anything, curious about his reaction. You're betting it's because he doesn't want a paper trail. Your shoulders shake as you hold back an internal giggle, amused at the lengths your boyfriend is going to to be sneaky about this. You're both adults, he could afford to be a little more upfront or confident about his desires but still, you think it's endearing to be the only one he really shares them with. “Oh, that’s too bad,” Megumi answers, turning back to the counter. He spends the next several seconds painstakingly pulling out cash. The cashier shoots him a dirty look as she starts counting out his change. It’s taking too long. “Sorry I don’t have anything smaller.” You lean in so only he (and just possibly the cashier) can hear, “Mmhmm, yeah you don’t. You’re always such a tight fit, baby.” Megumi turns scarlet and you laugh as he drops half the coins before he can put them back in his wallet. “Sorry, sorry. Sorry.” He mutters at the customers behind him who start to grumble at him holding everyone up. “Maybe you guys should have a self checkout counter,” you suggest, smiling politely at the cashier. “Maybe your man should move on with the times,” she retorts drily. “Next!’” When you finally escape the shop, it’s started to drizzle. You squeeze against your boyfriend under the narrow awning while he retrieves an umbrella from his backpack. He’s always so prepared, you think fondly. He deserves everything.

“ 'Gumi?” “Yea?” he looks up from pulling out the umbrella from its plastic case. “About the…those cat ears?” His cheeks colour again a little. “W-what about them.” “You sure you don’t wanna get them? They’re kinda cute.” “It’s fine, let’s take things a step at a time,” he says, clicking open the umbrella. “Anyway, you’re plenty cute enough.” It’s your turn to blush uncontrollably. You may have been

the one to initiate flirty and naughty comments in this relationship, and it’s super rare for Megumi to say such things, so when he does it’s way more effective than anything you could throw at him. You think you might melt before you get home. “Besides,” Megumi adds, a strong arm circling around your waist as you both step out into the downpour, safe under the umbrella’s arch. His voice dips low, breath hot on your ear against the chill in the air. “I already own a pussy.” Thanks to Megumi, you don’t get caught in the rain, but you still end up a drenched mess that afternoon.

#kinktober2021 #jujutsu kaisen smut #itadori yuji #fushiguro megumi #kugisaki nobara #kugisaki x reader #kugisaki x you #kugisaki headcanons #nobara x reader #nobara x y/n #nobara x you #megumi x reader #megumi x y/n #megumi x you #megumi smut #fushiguro megumi smut #yuji x reader #yuji x y/n #yuji x you #yuji smut #itadori yuji smut #sandsorghum #jujutsu kaisen #Smuterdays

[ev-pierce-writes]

Doll

Pairing: Bucky Barnes (Winter Soldier) x F!Reader

Words: 7.7K

Rating: Very much 18+

Warnings: P in V, oral (fem receiving), light (consensual) choking, praise, James Buchanan Barnes is a sad boy and only you can make him happy, mutual therapy over past trauma, a couple light spanks, and some sexy sparring

Note: Reader had a run-in with Hydra that gave you invisibility powers. Bucky is tasked with training you. Totally not canon, I just kept the parts I liked. Got the idea from a tiktok but I can't find it anymore oops. I'm thinking of turning it into a series of all the places you can fuck Bucky Barnes at Avengers HQ. Enjoyyyyyy....

---

"Alright, so I'm thinking absolutely the first thing you need is a suit. Because we can't have you sneaking around in clothes that give you away."

Tony Stark and Peter Parker stand before you at Avengers HQ, furiously tossing ideas back and forth, trying to come up with ways to build you the best possible suit. Last night had been...interesting, to say the least.

"Who's that?" Stark had said when you appeared all of a sudden from your room. "Come on Agent Hill, don't tell me you're taking in lost kids nowadays."

Your mother had only laughed, slightly inebriated and feeling loose because of all the drinking that was going on in your penthouse apartment. She was hosting one of those parties where too many superpowers drank too much alcohol and got a little too rowdy. "That's my daughter."

Usually, you stay away from such events, go out with friends, and avoid the house until it's all over. For the past four years, you hadn't even been in the house to need to avoid it. But now you're 22 and a recent college graduate and something about the party was drawing you in so you had emerged from your hideaway to join in the fun.

"Alright, Maria, how'd you manage to keep that one a secret?" Romanov spoke up.

Until this point, you'd remained silent, in shock at the sudden attention a group of superheroes had focused onto you. But you couldn't help yourself from responding now. You'd managed to hide away long enough. It was time to come into the open.

"I'm a ghost," you said jokingly, approaching the couch and stealing the drink your mother had been drinking to take a sip. It was strong and burned on the way down. The group laughed at your words, unaware of how true they really were.

It was then that you'd performed your little trick, the one that only a few of your closest friends had ever seen. You became invisible.

The laughter had immediately stopped. The girl who suddenly appeared out of thin air had disappeared right back into it. They could still tell where you were of course. The glass in your hand remained visible, floating in mid-air, giving away your position. And your clothes were still perceptible, not being able to change with you. But your features were otherwise undetectable, not even a shimmer revealing your face. You took another sip of the drink, liquid disappearing into an invisible mouth.

"I want her. On the team," Stark had said.

And that was it. The start of your superhero career.

"Explain again exactly how this works?" Parker asks.

You sigh and start from the beginning, again. "I can distort the absorption wavelengths of my cells so that the reflected light is in the invisible range, usually infrared."

"And how long can you hold it for?"

"About seven minutes now," you explain. "It's sort of like holding your breath. You can go underwater for a while, and you can practice holding your breath longer and longer, but eventually, you need to come up for air. Eventually, I have to 'recharge.' But I've been working on extending it."

Stark turns to one of the many holograms of his supercomputer, working with Friday to design a brand new suit to accommodate your skills. You're so engrossed in watching his process you don't even notice the shadowy figure appear in the doorway that leads to the training facilities.

"How'd you get these powers? Agent Hill isn't lacking in skill but it certainly isn't supernatural."

You knew Stark's question would come up eventually. It always did. Over time, it became easier to tell the story, but now you really don't feel like explaining fully, so you tell the short version.

"Hydra. When I was seventeen. They used me as a bargaining chip against my mom in a mission gone wrong and decided to experiment on me in the process. Left me with a lot of scars and a lot of therapy. Almost dropped out of school."

You don't remember much from the experience. But enough for it to leave lasting damage.

"Hydra?" a familiar voice asks behind you. Only now do you notice that Barnes is behind you. How long has he been watching?

You remain silent, just like you did the night before when he'd arrived late to the party, unable to speak under his gaze.

You had planned to leave not long after you joined the festivities. But when the elevator doors opened, a pair of blue eyes halted you in your path. James Buchanan Barnes, the Winter Soldier. You'd recognize those eyes anywhere. Crystal clear and icy, freezing you under their gaze. He wore a leather jacket and leather gloves, concealing his metal arm, but you knew it was there, hiding behind the layers.

Barnes had always been the one that caught your eye during your mother's briefings. His transition from the greatest warrior Hydra had to offer, and thus S.H.I.E.L.D.'s greatest enemy, to the trusted companion of Captain America and official Avengers member intrigued you. At first, he had been more of a schoolgirl crush, the little girl grappling with her new powers seeking guidance in someone who didn't even know she existed. But age had not reduced your admiration of him. Barnes' face was hard set in serious determination and his glance barely grazed over you before turning to the rest of the group. He paid you not a single ounce of attention, yet you felt dumbstruck in his presence.

But Bucky had noticed you that night. Noticed you in a way he wanted desperately to hide, so he disallowed his eyes from lingering on you. Who were you and why were you wearing pajamas at a party and how did you make them actually look good?

And not only did he notice you, but he recognized you. He wasn't sure how, but something at the back of his head buried beneath decades of blurred half-memories told him he knew you. It was a stupid thought, though. How could he know you?

From the doorway, his eyes narrow in concern, making you feel smaller than ever beneath him. How is that 5 o'clock shadow so enticing? You just want to run your fingers across--

Stark gestures at Barnes, completely ignoring his comment. "Good, you're here. Our young Agent Hill needs to get started with her training immediately. I want her in the field but she can't be going in inexperienced. Teach her the works."

It's rather bold of Stark to assume you have no combat skills. And to assume you even want to go into the field. But you follow behind Barnes in silence anyway toward the training facilities. It doesn't matter what you know and don't know. He's going to kick your ass anyway.

"Feet wider," he says, coaching you on your swing. His blue eyes have somehow darkened, and along with the faint beard, he looks positively dangerous. "Not too wide."

"I know how to punch, Barnes," you whisper under your breath. He's not meant to hear your words, but he does anyway.

"Oh yeah? Punch me then. Go for it." His voice is challenging in the way that reveals he knows he could block any swing that comes at him. But he wants to see what will happen. Your mention of Hydra loosened a memory in his brain somewhere, and though he can't quite place his finger on it, the memory told him you're anything but the kid he's treating you like. He wants to know what you really have inside you.

Your annoyance gets the best of you. You aim for his face, the way your mother taught you. And she taught you well, teaching you all the self-defense skills you might need moving through the world as a woman. But she did not teach you how to fight super soldiers. That's an entirely different world.

Unsurprisingly, Barnes predicts your move and his metal arm comes up to meet your human one, halting your punch mid-swing. His palm fully engulfs your fist, your knuckles slamming into the metal with a ringing sound.

"Fuck, that hurt," you seethe through your teeth, gripping your hand in pain. And yet, you still smile. You mean for your words to sound irritated, but they betray how much you enjoy getting a swing in. "Didn't have to do me like that, Barnes."

He ignores your pain, though secretly it pleases him to find how much force is truly behind your punch. Nothing, of course, his metal arm can't take, but strong enough. "Language, kid. Go again. And this time, try not to be so obvious."

Despite his advice, it's impossible. He predicts every one of your strikes and counters them with four times as much strength as you possess. You give him everything you have, and nothing lands.

"This would be a lot easier if you let me use my powers."

So far, Barnes has refused to let you fight invisible, not that it would have done you much good without a proper suit. But you're tired and sweaty, your hair falling from its ponytail and sticking to your face, your muscles aching and your heart beating fast. Barnes hasn't even broken a sweat.

"Unless you learn to fight without your powers, they'll do nothing more than level the playing field. You need to be at an advantage if you're going to survive."

Survive. You've done plenty of that already. You want better than survival. Barnes recognizes the look on your face, the one that expresses the desire plainly. He knows the feeling, drifting from one day to the next and wanting more than that.

His voice softens a bit. "We can call it quits for the day. Get some rest. We'll go again tomorrow."

He didn't intend to be so kind. It just sort of happened, drawn out of him by the not-so-innocent girl who still has a lot to learn but can hold her own better than most.

---

Tomorrow. Tomorrow's8 like the day before, 9 am at HQ, wait for Parker to get his ass up the elevator so Stark can begin, get sidetracked by coffee, and then finally return to the task at hand.

"Give this a shot," Stark says, handing you what looks like nothing more than a vaguely human-shaped paper suit. "Not exactly protective, but it's a new technology. Should conform to your abilities."

"You did this overnight?"

"Of course. Get changed."

The suit has little support and definitely no protection. You feel like a fingernail could rip a hole through it if you pull on it wrong, let alone a knife coming at you from an angry enemy. But it's a start. An impressive start. You stare at yourself in the mirror of the bathroom as you shift, the suit shifting along with you.

Back in the training facilities, where you know Stark and Parker will be waiting, you remain in your shifted form. They don't look up as you enter, somehow having not heard you, and instead are engaged in a heated discussion with Barnes about something you don't understand. So you creep up behind Parker, lean in, and whisper into his ear.

"I think it works."

You feel a little bad, but only for a moment. Parker jumps straight out of his skin, screaming a scream you didn't know was possible from the kid. Stark lets out a laugh as you rematerialize, and Barnes even cracks a smile at your prank.

"Yeah, yeah, I'd say so." Parker's voice quivers.

"Well, what do you think?" Stark asks.

"Very thin," you say, aware that much more is visible than you really want. "I feel like it's going to rip at any moment. And there's not a whole lot of support in this area."

You gesture vaguely at your chest, not knowing how best to explain to a group of men that a sports bra is a necessity for fighting, but knowing you have to make them aware all the same. You can feel Barnes' eyes on you, a little less polite than the others, and you find you like the way he eyes you up, a bit like a puzzle to be solved or a strategy to be devised.

"Right, right, I'll get on that. Only a prototype anyway," Stark responds nervously. "Back to work, Parker. Hill, Barnes, back to training."

Bucky tries his best not to picture what you might look like without that suit, but it leaves little to the imagination as you saunter away to change again.

And so the days move forward. You've never before been so busy or exhausted in your life. You just graduated college, which is a feat in itself, but all the training, all the work, keeps you on your toes so that by the end of the day, both your brain and your body are tired.

Still, you improve and get better at sparring Barnes, even taking him down a couple of times on your own, though you suspect he's going easy on you.

"Again." Barnes is already on his feet and helping you to yours. Today the sparring room is particularly warm, and you've long forgone your sweats for shorts and a sports bra. Barnes has lost the shirt as well, and his chest glistens with sweat beneath the fluorescent lights. Maybe it's the heat or maybe it's him, but the whole thing feels a bit dreamlike. Here you are, sparring with a man who could take you to the ground with one arm alone, and he's letting you kick his ass every once in a while.

But there's no way you can do it again. You feel destroyed by all the slamming onto the mat.

Barnes is doing his best not to be distracted as well, but those tight shorts and the top that reveals your midriff have to be on purpose. It's easy to admit to himself that he likes you, might even be attracted to you. You fight hard and relentlessly, rising to every one of his challenges and not backing down even when you're tired. You've already come a long way since that first encounter, and Barnes has come to look forward to the two hours a day you spend together in the gym. He had tried to tell himself it was the fun of having a new sparring partner, but in truth, he knows it's the determined glint in your eyes, the way you bounce on your feet in excited anticipation of the fight, the way you collapse on the mat after a hard session, chest heaving deep breaths in and out. But what he likes most is your heated gaze when he pins you to the ground, or even better, you pin him.

"Knock me down one more time and you can be done," he challenges. The familiar determination returns, though a flicker of doubt remains behind your eyes. He can tell you need encouragement. "Remember to use your size to your advantage. Don't let me get ahead of you. Keep me guessing."

You do your best. You really do. You hold your own for almost two minutes, but it's obvious you're only barely staying ahead of him. As soon as you falter, Barnes has you flat on your back on the mat without much resistance, immobilized by a knee on your thighs and his metal arm trapping your hands over your head. His free hand plants by your head and holds him up to prevent him from actually hurting you.

You gasp underneath him, trying to disguise the weird flicker of desire with breathlessness. He looks good from down here, all sweaty and dark and serious. But you're also a bit too tired to care. "I'm out, Barnes. Let me go."

Let me go. Please.

And that's when the memory returns. The full, real memory, the one that has been tickling the edges of his brain since he first saw you. You, a kid, his mission. Kidnap, don't kill. A small voice, your voice, begging. Please, let me go. What has he done?

"Fuck," he curses under his breath, standing up quickly.

"Language, Barnes," you say teasingly. But he doesn't laugh, simply exits the sparring room, abruptly leaving you, speechless and alone on the floor. What just happened?

After a moment of confused silence on the mat, you brush it off and stand, heading to your room for a shower. Stark offered you a place to stay at HQ, and you happily agreed. Though you loved being back with your mother after four years away at college, you cherish your independence. A room at HQ offered you just that.

A nice shower would certainly make you feel better after that confusing interaction. You pull on your robe and shower shoes, leaving your clothes behind so as to carry one less thing. But as you pass down the hall toward the showers, you can hear Barnes' voice drift through the slightly open door to his room.

"I remembered," he says. "It was her. I'm the reason she's--" He cuts off, appearing to be interrupted by whoever he's talking to on the phone. You pause by the open door.

"I know that's not me anymore but I'm still responsible," he continues. "I have to tell her."

Again a pause. By now it's apparent he's talking about you.

"No, Steve, we aren't a team. We aren't partners. I'm helping Tony out. I don't care if she doesn't want to work with me anymore, this is part of my redemption. I have to tell her."

The conversation seems over. You rush to the showers, not wanting Barnes to realize you were listening the whole time. Apologize, he said. Apologize for what? You've known him for a whole of four days and he's been nothing but polite to you. Cold, at first, but he warms upon acquaintance. And then he's downright sweet.

So sweet, you realize, for someone so damaged. He has every right to hate the world, and though he walks through it with a healthy dose of cynicism, he never lets that cynicism touch you. If anything, he's outright positive around you, an undeserving brat. A kid, really, though you don't like when he calls you that. You know you can be naive, positive on the verge of artificiality, and yet he never tries to burst your bubble. In fact, he seems to relish it.

The shower feels nice, but it does nothing to assuage your fears. Maybe it's you who has done something wrong? Now you're spiraling. You have to find out what's going on or it's going to drive you crazy.

You know what you have to do. You have just about seven minutes of invisibility before your shifting gives out. In those seven minutes, you can duck from the showers, sneak into Barnes' room, snoop around, and make it back to the showers unseen. Plenty of time. But you have to go nude. Now would be a great time for the suit, but no such luck. Naked it is.

Out in the hallway, all is quiet. Barnes' door is still ajar, but when you peek your head in, the room is empty.

Easy.

Where to start? His phone is a dead end, being one of those ancient flipping kinds rather than a new, high-tech smartphone. He has few personal belongings, the bed is made perfectly, and his closet contains only clothes.

The drawers of the nightstand are empty. Or nearly empty. At the back of the top drawer is unceremoniously shoved a small booklet with a pen stuck between the pages. It's worn and supple, as though held a thousand times and read a thousand more. You flip through, finding a list of names, some crossed out, others not. Your name does not appear, but something about the list tells you these are not ordinary names. These are the names of his victims, people Barnes hurt as the Winter Soldier. Your heart aches and your stomach clenches, the reminder of his past jarring against the kind demeanor you've come to know. But deep down, you know this isn't him, know he's a good man, despite it all.

You know better than most the first-hand horrors of Hydra's super-soldier experiments. Of anyone, you can relate best to the experience Barnes has been through. Your memories of that long week are blurry, but the pain remains, forever seared into your mind. You can only imagine a lifetime of that pain.

The sound of the door opening jolts you from your reverie and you close the drawer quickly. But you soon realize your mistake. Barnes would know he left the door open, would know exactly how he placed his book in the drawer, would recognize something was off. Unfortunately, you're right.

"Hello?" he calls into the darkening room. The evening is coming on fast and the sun dims to barely glimmer, casting the space in shadow despite the large windows on the south wall.

Bucky knows something is off the moment he finds your room unoccupied, having gone there with the express purpose of confronting you about his actions earlier in the afternoon. And though he has no way of truly knowing, he suspects you are now here, in this room with him, invisible to his gaze. Bucky shuts the door behind him and waits.

You're trapped. You don't have long before your powers give out; already the suffocating feeling that begs you to take a breath is coming on. And Barnes has closed the door, effectively sealing you in, as you can't open it without him knowing for sure that you're here. On top of that, you're clothingless. You've run out of options and Barnes seems to sense this. So, he waits, drawing out the moment of tension, building the suspense.

"I know you're here," he says finally, his voice soft and barely audible. "You can't hide that well. Next time, dry your feet off before you go leaving wet footprints all over the place."

Oops.

"I--" you begin, and immediately Barnes' eyes snap to where your voice originates from. "I'm sorry. I overheard your conversation with Rogers. I shouldn't have but I know it was about me."

Barnes sighs, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Yeah, you're right. I have some things to explain. Though I'd much prefer talking to you if I could see you."

You hesitate. "Only a slight problem there. I'm not wearing any clothes."

If it had been any lighter in the room you would have seen Barnes blush. Instead, you watch him pull his shirt over his head. He hands it to you blindly, the shirt off his own back, soft with wear and long enough to cover the tops of your thighs. It smells of him, salty with sweat and sweet with the scent you've come to recognize only as him. You shrug it on and shift back.

"I'm sorry," you say again, having trouble concentrating with Barnes' bare chest at your eye level. Is that an old bullet wound on his shoulder? The reminder of a knife across his stomach? You can't look away, even at the seam where man meets metal.

Barnes shakes his head. "No, I should be the one apologizing."

He pauses for a moment and tries to begin several times before finally forming a complete sentence.

"It's my fault you're like this, that Hydra tested on you. It was me who kidnapped you, it was me who followed orders, it was me who completed the mission and got you hurt. And I'm so sorry."

You're so frozen in shock that the absurdity of the situation doesn't even register. There's nothing under this shirt, no underwear, no pants, no bra. And here you are standing in the bedroom of your greatest inspiration, listening to him apologize for being the one that facilitated your kidnapping, for being responsible for all the injury, the pain, the nightmares, the isolation, the...

It all comes flooding back, the things you had forgotten, or simply chose to not remember, and one of those things is his face.

You thought you'd dealt with impact. So many hours with a therapist, and you realize all you did was suppress the feelings, not confront them. And then you break, all the anger and sadness and frustration flowing from you at once.

"You piece of shit." Your voice begins as a whisper but soon amplifies nearly to a shout. "You monster, you bastard, how could you? How could you?"

All this time you forgave him for the damage he'd done, excused it as brainwashing and manipulation from Hydra. But now that it's you he's involved, you have somewhere to direct your anger, and you take it out as a shove straight to his chest.

He didn't expect that one. The words he understood. He accepted those, accepted that you would hate him forever. But then you're pushing and hitting him with all your force. Barnes could fight back, could hold his ground. But you need this, so he lets you shove him into the wall with a newfound strength. Finally against the wall, with nowhere left to go, you turn to pummelling his chest with your fists, repeating the words over and over, how could you, how could you, how could you.

For a moment, he lets it happen. But eventually, Barnes reacts, grabbing your wrists and holding them to his chest in an attempt to calm the fury that rages inside you. Surprisingly, at his touch, you still, slumping against him once the anger is replaced with nothing but sadness. That anger, one you never truly realized you'd harbored since your capture, bled from you all at once, leaving you exhausted.

You don't notice you're crying until a soft thumb wipes a tear from your cheek. Barnes releases your hands and wraps his arms around your sobbing body, pulling you close. "I'm so sorry," he repeats in your ear, his words a whisper against the rage inside your head.

Is it hours, or only minutes, standing like that, wrapped up in him, his skin so soft against your cheek? Time has ceased to exist, melting into the nighttime that encompasses the room in near pitch-black darkness. Your breath calms, your heart rate slows, the tears dry. He's only a man, a broken, misplaced, lost man. But he's also impossibly kind to you, caring enough to train you day after day, to pick you up when you fall down, to ensure you're happy here at all times. That's the man you know and rest your cheek against and seek out for comfort in this moment, despite him being the reason for your anger. But he's not truly the reason for your anger, only an easy outlet standing right before you.

This is not how Bucky had expected this to go. Perhaps to never see you again, yes. But to hold you in his arms, certainly not. And not just hold you, but comfort you. It surprises him how much he finds he likes it. And he can't ignore the fact that you're here in his room, wearing his shirt and only his shirt. He doesn't try anything improprietous, just wraps his arms around your waist, but it's not lost on him that your supple chest is pressed against him and the delicious scent from your still wet hair is filling his brain with a flowery cloud. His stomach clenches at the thought of burying his face in that smell for the rest of the night but he pushes it aside. That's not why you're here. That's not what you want.

But your next words surprise him. You pull slightly away, tilting your splotchy face upward towards his to look him in the eye. You take a ragged breath and speak.

"I forgive you."

Bucky is taken aback. That's not why he made this confession, not to seek your forgiveness. "You don't have to do that."

"I know. But I do. And I know you think I'm just a kid--"

Barnes lets out a short laugh, cutting you off immediately. "Jesus Christ, that's not true. You're not a kid. You're smart and strong and capable. And you've seen the ugly world for its true self and choose to remain good and happy all the same. I'm not like that and that makes you wiser than I'll ever be."

He takes a deep breath, unsure if he should admit to the feelings he desperately wants to express to you. The way you're looking at him, with a mixture of hesitation and admiration, makes the words tumble from his mouth without a second thought.

"But somehow being around you makes me want to be good again. Not for my sake, but for yours."

"James, I--" You've never used his first name before, but it falls deliciously from your lips, the sound of it nearly distracting him from the finger you run across the stubble on the cleft of his chin. Nearly. He captures that hand in his own, holding it there against his face.

"You don't have to forgive me. I don't deserve it," he repeats, eyes falling shut to the feeling of your thumb pressed to the corner of his lips. He still holds you close, the other arm wrapping tight around you, and though verbally he rejected the comfort your warmth offered, his body says otherwise, desperate for the acceptance his brain refuses to give into.

"Stop punishing yourself," you whisper. For a moment, he almost feels that he could.

And when your lips find his, soft and delicate, he forgets why you're even here in the first place, forgets his guilt and your anger, forgets even to react.

His lack of response has you pulling away, worried you've done something wrong, but then he's chasing your lips with his own, leaning forward to meet you halfway, gathering you impossibly tighter to his chest. He pauses, mouth mere centimeters from yours, eyes still shut, a deep breath heaving from his chest. He wants more, wants to kiss you again in all the places that count, but he can't quite yet.

"What was that for?" The question's not an accusatory one but simply curious. Have you always looked at him in this light since day one? Has he just not noticed?

"Are you blind, Barnes?"

He laughs and shakes his head. "None of that last name shit, doll, we've moved on to a first-name basis."

But your words are enough to surge him forward, this time capturing your lips in a dominating kiss that leaves you gasping for air. He takes advantage of your open mouth and presses his tongue to yours, seeking to fill his soul with your all-consuming warmth, to wrap it around him like a cocoon of your scent. His fingers slide down your back and slip under the shirt you wear, his shirt, grasping at the bare skin of your ass, filling his hands with your supple flesh.

You moan softly under his touch, relishing in the feeling of being encompassed by someone so large and so strong. The vibranium arm, which you expected to be harshly indelicate against your relative fragility, caresses you with the same gentility of the other. The intense contact sends your heart racing like it did all the times you were pinned below him on the sparring mat. Will he pin you like that in bed? Hold you down while he fucks you within an inch of your life?

The thought rouses a heat between your legs and stirs butterflies in your tummy. You don't even know if that's where this is going, but it invades your brain anyways. You're sure Barnes can feel your racing pulse beneath his lips when he kisses your neck, sending your nerves haywire as he creeps toward the neckline of your shirt. He inhales your scent, the hot air of his breath fanning your cool skin.

Everything about this is sloppy, the wet kisses dragged across your skin, his tongue tangled with yours, your fingers tugging at the hair that brushes the nape of his neck. Even his hips against yours are messy and rough, the heat of him leaving your core feeling slick, the wetness of it rubbing between your naked thighs. And then Barnes is sliding his hands back up your body, this time under your shirt, and tugging it over your head, his lips leaving your skin just long enough to toss the item to the ground.

You expect him to keep surging forward, to lift you in his arms and take you to bed like you want him to. But he pauses instead, hands cradling the back of your head, his eyes staring intensely into yours. Or you think he's staring into your eyes.

"Are you okay? Is this okay?" His voice is full of concern but raspy with arousal all the same.

"Yes, James, yes, I need more."

"Well, I would, it's just that you've disappeared on me again." One look at your hands and you know he was looking right through you, not at you. The swirl of emotions--pleasure, arousal, timidity even--sent you shifting without your knowledge. You can't help but laugh.

"Let me see you, doll," he groans, sounding exasperated that he can't rake his gaze across your naked flesh or find all the places he wants to touch you because they're invisible.

"You first."

A heated understanding lights up his eyes, still vibrant in the darkness of the room. Slowly, he releases his grip on you, relenting to not knowing where you are in space. You take an invisible step back to get a better view of the specimen before you. With one hand, he unbuckles his belt, sliding the leather from his pants and dropping it to the floor with a thunk. And then his pants are gone and he's left in his boxers, tight against the bulging muscles of his thighs.

And other bulging things. He doesn't hide his attraction to you. But still, you do not reappear.

Bucky begins to worry you're never going to, that maybe he's taken things too for. But then, a soft finger trails across his neck and he jerks in surprise. You're tracing the plain of his chest with a feather-light touch, dipping into the indent between his collarbones, feeling along the puckered scar of a bullet wound and the long slice of a knife. He feels healed beneath your touch, but it's not enough to satisfy the insatiable hunger building in the tightness of his groin. This entire evening has been a long, drawn-out, build-up of tension, and if he doesn't release it soon, it will snap like an overstretched rubber band.

He makes his move.

Apparently, Bucky's senses are just as perceptive here as they are on the sparring mat. His metal hand shoots up and wraps around the wrist of the hand on his chest, despite being unable to see it. The other reaches out and grapples at your invisible body in the dark, somehow finding your waist. He doesn't need to see you to manage to flip you around and press your back against his chest. In your surprise, your invisibility falters, and you flicker out of your shifted form with a flustered squeak, one hand suddenly pinned between your back and Bucky's rock-hard chest.

He holds on with an iron grip and walks you toward the bed, holding you up to prevent you from tripping in your ruffled state.

"You're taking too long, doll," he mumbles into your ear, and you feel his chest rumble with the vibrations. Your free hand flies to the one around your waist, which is slowly creeping upward toward your breast to twist at the sensitive nipple. "I know you like it when I pin you on the sparring floor. I can see it in your eyes. I'll take you like that right now if you give me the word."

Fuck, you want nothing more but you can't breathe enough to get the words out, opting for nodding vigorously instead. But Bucky wants words, gently prodding you forward to get a verbal commitment out of you. He will never take you against your will again. So you manage a long, drawn-out please and suddenly you're face-first in the sheets, bent halfway at the waist, your ass grinding against the delicious bulge pressed against your aching cunt. It pleases you that he has been thinking the same wicked thoughts as you when he slams you to the mat over and over again in training.

Bucky pulls your arm out from underneath you, joining it with the other and holding them together with his metal fist at your lower back, forcing your chest further into the mattress and your ass higher in the air. There's no way for you to move, no matter how hard you try. But you don't try, won't try. Bucky has you right where you want to be.

"Tell me if it's too much," he murmurs in your ear and you breathe an affirmation. His teeth nibble suddenly at your ear lobe and you squirm, the sensation of his breath fanning your skin sending goosebumps along the trail of kisses he leaves down your spine. Somehow, you know this is only the calm before the storm, the gentle caresses of a man who's about to rearrange every organ in your body, all the way up to your heart if you aren't careful.

It doesn't matter to you that it's pitch black in the room; you wouldn't have been able to see anything with your face shoved into the comforter, even if the lights were on. But Bucky's starting to regret having left the lights off, wishing he could better see the curve of your hips, the swell of your thighs, or the bloom of his handprint on your ass when his hand comes down with a smack. He resigns to being satisfied by the mewling gasp that escapes your lips and your soft pleas to Do it again, harder.

So he does. Smack.

And then he's sinking to his knees and you can tell because he leaves a wet stripe of skin with his tongue over the globe of your ass and blows a shock of cool air across the rawness of your skin.  He replaces the sting of his hand with the bite of his teeth and then a kiss to soothe you again. The rollercoaster of sensations has you moaning against the mattress and rocking your hips toward his face and Barnes chuckles at your movement, your actions giving away the desperation you feel to have his tongue move to more sensitive places.

He is happy to oblige. You hadn't even noticed you'd been squeezing your thighs together until he slid a hand up between them, forcing them apart. It's a blessing your legs aren't doing any work to keep you up anymore because they feel like jelly under his touch. The hand between your thighs moves higher still until you feel his thumb pressed to your sensitive clit, warm and twitching with anticipation, desire coursing through your veins and dripping from your wet cunt. Your ears barely register that he's speaking, the blood is pumping so hard in your ears, but his words are exalting.

"Look at you, so wet for me." The hand around your wrists tightens just slightly. You are surprised by the extreme control he has over the cool metal fingers, and you almost wish he'd use those on you instead. And then he says, "you like it, don't you, doll, being at my mercy," and you forget all about the arm and decide it doesn't matter what hand presses down with a gentle strength on your clit as long as he doesn't stop. And he doesn't. Doesn't move, doesn't flinch or twitch or falter, just holds steady until your gasping mewls die down just enough for you to say, "yes, all for you, all for you, all..."

With those words, his thumb slips, between your slick folds into your pussy, finding the soft spongy flesh and pressing down again and you cry out with a careening moan that tapers off into a silent sob. He's taking his time, picking you apart, pulling at the laces that bind you together, and undoing them to release the tension he knows you harbor. But what about him? Is it not torture for him?

You breathe in a rough gasp, enough to squeak out a few more words. "I thought we were going too slow for you."

He laughs, he actually laughs, at your words, but relents.

"I hear you, doll."

I hear you. Oh wow. His tongue replaces his finger and you lose all coherence, able only to blubber some iteration of his name as the smooth muscle traces circles around your clit, finally allowing your orgasm to build with a steady contraction in your pelvis. Barnes moans between your legs like he's never tasted chocolate or buttercream or any of those other wondrous flavors and there's only you. And that moan sends you overboard, the vibrations diffusing down your legs and you tremble into your first orgasm. Your first orgasm.

He keeps going, riding out the waves of your high until you're crying that it's too much, James, too much and he pulls his tongue away from your oversensitized clit only to move down your legs. He's working you up again, teasing the smooth skin of your inner thigh with gentle nips and kisses until your body is craving release again, your cunt clenching around nothing but the memory of his mouth. He is deliberate in his ministrations, methodical in the way he must be with his missions. The flood of your first orgasm has dripped steadily down your thigh and he cleans you with his tongue, dragging upward along the sticky trail of your musky release until his tongue makes contact again and he pulls an orgasm from your desperate body once more.

He still hasn't released your arms.

"You know how long I've wanted to do this?" he groans, as you shudder again into the pleasure of his touch. He kisses back up the length of your spine while you twitch under him, his free hand dragging shock wave after shock wave from your cunt. It strikes you that this man is truly 106, not 26 like his body suggests, and you absentmindedly wonder if that's why he's so good at it, that he's had years to practice. And then his cock is pressing against your folds and you forget the notion halfway through thinking it. "You're so good to me doll, so good for opening up for me. Wanna feel your tight pussy around me."

You push backward, or do your best to without the employment of your arms, wanting desperately to feel him inside you. He is warm and all-encompassing and part of you thinks his cock spilling his seed inside of you would complete you like nothing else. But you know that's a bad idea and you can hear him already unwrapping a condom (where did he get that from?) and your body trembles with the anticipation. You haven't even seen him yet but you know he must be big, the way he grunts when the tip of his erection teases your entrance.

When he enters you it isn't gentle like the stroke of his tongue. It splits you open with a rough thrust, the laces of your heart fully undone and releasing you from their confinement. You choke on your own air.

And then he's releasing your arms, and before you can react, Barnes has you lifted, your back to his chest, your knees shoved roughly into the mattress so he can stand and fuck you from behind. The metal arm finds your neck and forces your head back, his lips dragging hot against your soft skin and muttering filthy praise into your ear, his hand gently on your throat to hold you there. Your hands fly to his, not to pull him away, but to convince him to squeeze, just a little bit harder. The pressure is grounding, and then the hand around your waist is trailing toward the bud of your clit and rubbing in urgent circles and you let out a silent gasp as he thrusts into you at a pace astounding for the position you're in.

You come hard, over his hand, around his cock, and for the first time Barnes falters, stunned by the intensity with which you clamp around him and if he hadn't made you come two times already he might have held out a bit longer to pull another one of those stunning orgasms from your slick cunt. But you're sagging, using him to hold you up against the exhaustion of repeated abuse so he releases, riding the wave of pleasure you started. Bucky groans out your name, surprising you with the gentleness of it on his tongue despite the rough hand around your neck.

When he releases you softly back onto the bed, you sink heavily into the mattress, feeling high on pleasure and drunk on his hands. He pulls away and shuffles around the room, and if you had had any energy left you might have complained at the loss of him but as it sits nothing will rouse you from the intense desire to simply fall asleep.

He continues to move about and then... the lights go on? You groan at the harsh treatment of your eyes as they adjust. But Barnes returns and pulls you against him and apologizes for the rude awakening.

"Sorry, doll," he mutters. "Wanted to get a better look at you." His fingers glide along your back and his face nuzzles into the top of your head, breathing into your hair as you press your forehead into his chest. Despite being exhausted himself he trails his hands all over your body, exploring the side of you that has been shoved into the sheets for the better part of the evening. You let him, although your nerves feel fried and oversensitive to touch.

"Watch what you do with those hands," you giggle as his fingertips brush over a nipple, "unless you're ready to go again."

"Already looking forward to next time?"

"You wish," you tease, but already you know for certain that there will be a next time.

#bucky barns x reader #bucky barnes #winter solider fanfiction #bucky barnes smut #winter solider smut #definitely not canon #i refuse to believe steve went back in time for some 1940s kitty kat and left his best friend behind #tony and nat are alive bc they are the only truly valuable characters #sebastian stan #also youre the daughter of agent hill #bucky fanfic #bucky x reader #winter soldier #wEiNeR sOlDiEr

[taechaos]

Blackmail

pairing: bully!Jungkook x nerdy!fem!Reader

genre: drabble, smut, college au

synopsis: Jimin offers you information on Jungkook, but your friendship is misconstrued by Jungkook who ends it singlehandedly with one video of you professing your love to him between moans.

warnings: dubcon, fingering, degredation, mild squirting, manipulation

word count: 2.8k

a/n: jealous kook doesn't realize he's jealous. this part is a bit extreme, so beware ><

One doesn't come across someone like Jungkook every day. It's fate that you met him in your first year of college, extending to your second where he grows closer to you; fair, it's clear that he only intends to use you for his academic success, but you've deluded yourself into thinking you're in love with each other. Growing up, you only had your dysfunctional family to teach you about how to love, how to think. As long as Jungkook needs you, he will love you, and you’re willing to do anything to be with him, only him. You need him to live.

Birds sing in the background as you lay on your stomach on the grass of the yard across the campus. It’s sunny and breezy, the perfect spring day as you work on Jungkook’s research paper due next month. You compiled multiple credible sources in a separate file to create an outline for his essay the moment he forwarded the assignment to you. You want him to praise you, pet your hair, kiss your cheek for starting so early so he can turn it in before anyone else. He would be proud, flashing you his pearly whites and adoring eyes. The reward motivates you to work harder and you’re relentlessly skimming through articles while counting down the minutes of Jungkook's lecture. He'll be outside with his friends in 7 minutes.

With a bad childhood, you don’t care to befriend many people. You only have a few friends to keep you company and you’re socially awkward outside of that group. You’re content, so you steer clear of boys who try to sabotage your relationship with Jungkook. Jimin, however, doesn’t get the memo.

Typing away on your laptop, a shadow looms over you to give you a break from the sunlight. You glance up and stop swinging your legs absentmindedly when you recognize the shadow; it’s a boy with frames and a tight collar adorning his neck.

Park Jimin is a typical nerd whereas you’re more of a closeted nerd. When you’re in love, you usually put more effort into your appearance to impress the one on your mind, but that doesn’t work with Jungkook. It’s always other men giving you their attention through second glances, and that includes Jimin.

“What do you want?” you rudely greet. Jimin is ruthless with his attempts at pursuing you; he’s the perfect gentleman, and often volunteers to do group tasks with you. He is never mean to anyone, and has a squeaky clean reputation, but his only flaw is that he can’t take a hint. You don't bother being friendly to him because you don't want friends.

"I want to know why you look so happy," he bends over to curiously glance at your screen, "while doing homework?"

You slam the monitor closed to stop his ogling. "You wouldn't get it. And stop watching me," you sternly say.

"What's your secret?" he grins and sits down on the grass next to you with crossed legs. His upper body serves as a shade and you stop squinting.

"There is no secret, I was just in a good mood until you came along." You're not upset, but you don't want to lead Jimin on and he won't leave unless you blow him off.

"Thinking of Jungkook?" he teases with a mischievous smile.

"Are you stalking me?"

"No, you're just too obvious," he chuckles, but the sound is strained. You don't notice his melancholy as he continues, "You were doing his homework again?"

You shift on your propped elbows a little uncomfortably. Jimin doesn't need to know what you do in your free time. "Yes," you answer anyway.

"You know he has daddy issues?"

Your eyes round as your discomfort dissipates instantly; he's piqued your interest. "Really?"

"Yeah, he has a tough exterior but he's actually a real softie."

An involuntary smile carves on your face before it falters as you ask, "How do you know this?"

"We went to high school together. I can tell you some stories if you want," he boasts when he realizes he has your attention. The context makes his heart sink, but when he imagines your lovesick grin is directed at him, it fills him with joy.

"Tell me, tell me! Please."

"Weeell," he draws with a lopsided grin, "don't tell him I told you this, but he used to hate girls. I don't know if he still does, but back then he couldn't even stand talking to a girl."

"Why?" your eyes are wide with interest as you whisper.

He shrugs, "No idea, but he hit a girl once when she wouldn't stop clinging onto him. Not like drop-kick her," he laughs, "he just shoved her on the ground. Be careful with him, okay? He can be very aggres-"

"You guys forming a nerd club now?"

You gasp when you hear Jungkook's voice. When you look up at him, he's almost glaring as his eyes flicker from you to Jimin. You're gleeful at his approach, because he never comes to you unless it's about a new assignment. It flutters your heart to see him without any papers in his hand.

You don't take his subtle insult to heart as you immediately respond, "No, we were just talking. H-Hi."

"Pull down your skirt, you look like a whore. I can see your panties all the way from the gates," he seethes in distaste. You instantly sit up with a blush and tug your skirt down to your knees. He looks back at Jimin who's glaring at him under his lashes, "The fuck's your deal?"

"Nothing," Jimin grits. Although he hates Jungkook's guts, he's too smart to fight a lost cause. He has his own set of muscles, but it isn't enough. It's best to accept defeat now.

"Did you start on the paper?" Jungkook asks you.

"Yes, I-"

"Good," he cuts you off and crouches to peck your lips by pulling the back of your neck. You're stunned when he pulls away and nonchalantly walks off to his friends.

Jimin follows him with his eyes and mutters under his breath, "douche."

Your heart is racing and you clamp a hand over your chest as a lovestruck smile spreads across your face. You know this is your end of the bargain, but it never fails to shrivel you up in delight.

"Are you two dating?" he mumbles as he pulls on the grass with a pout.

"Something like that," you exhale as you caress your lips.

It’s become routine to link up with Jimin where he reminisces his high school memories and you don’t doubt a single word he says unless it sheds a bad light on Jungkook. You’ve learned so much about him in the past few days, and you’re eager to know more. He likes energy drinks to this day, he was athletic in school and often got into fights. He began interacting with girls when he entered college, as Jimin says, “only for a quick fuck.”

Though it hurts Jimin that you only talk to him for information on Jungkook, he can’t bring himself to care when you hang onto every word he says with a glint in your eyes like you’re doing now.

You're sitting in the bustling cafeteria across from Jimin, sipping on a homemade strawberry lemonade from your thermos, and you don't notice Jungkook glancing at your table every now and then. It is the first time he doesn't feel your heavy gaze on him. Jimin does notice however, because he is facing him every time he receives a threatening ferile look.

"He could become a lawyer with how much he blackmailed the teachers to give him a good grade," Jimin tells you as he glances back and forth between you and Jungkook. "He's quite dangerous, you know. He's manipulative, a liar and has no empathy-"

"He's clever," you counter defensively, "he knows how to get around the system."

He makes a disgruntled noise from the back of his throat with a grimace. "I don't think the judge would listen to that."

You laugh at his comparison of the conversation to a court hearing. Jimin can be funny sometimes, and you have to admit that he's not that bad of a friend either. You've come to enjoy his company without the topic of Jungkook the past few days, but talking about him is always appreciated.

"Are you the judge then?" you cheekily ask.

"I might as well be, since I'm not biased like a certain someone," he teases with a grin.

"A lawyer has to see the bright side of things, but if I was the prosecutor, I wouldn't tell you that your lecture is in five minutes."

His smile falters as his eyes widen; you remember his schedule? He ran late for a lecture yesterday, but he’s in disbelief that you reminded him today. "Th-Thanks," he breathes as he packs up his belongings before giving you a curt, shy nod. His heart pounds when he walks away, and he resists the urge to look back at you.

It's a good idea, because that's when Jungkook settles down on his former seat.

"I'm thinking you might be forgetting who you belong to," he starts as he gets comfortable on the stiff chair. You instantly smile at his appearance.

"No, I'm very well aware of it." Your tone is high-pitched in excitement.

"It wasn't a question."

"Oh..."

“You talk more than you work,” he observes with a quirk of his brow. “One would think another nerd would be a better influence on you.”

“I work at night,” you defend worriedly, “I promise I’m not slacking off. Can I get a kiss please?”

You’re so adorable when you’re needy. He hides a smirk with a bite of his lip; he thrives from your loyalty to him, but he knows Jimin is a threat to it. He wants you to stop talking to that freak, and he justifies it as a concern for his grades. “I’ll kiss you when you’re not procrastinating. Do you think you deserve even a pat on the head?”

“I do! I’m halfway done with the research paper, please Jungkook,” you beg pathetically, “I-I’ll show it to you, I have it with me right now.” You start unzipping the case of your laptop until he holds up a hand for you to stop.

“You’re going to read it to me, but not here.”

When he stands up, so do you in a haste. He leaves the cafeteria with you hot on his tail, almost jogging when his strides are much bigger compared to yours. You resemble a clueless lamb following a lion, desperate to hold his claws with your hooves. You don’t know where he’s leading you as you walk down the halls until you stop in front of a door. You’re about to freak out when he swings open the door, but you realize the lecture room is empty.

“You want me to read here?” you inquire meekly. It’s a little intimidating to do it in complete silence, because you have a tendency to stutter when reading out loud and you don’t want to embarrass yourself in front of Jungkook where no one can talk over you. 

“Yup.” He snatches your laptop case from your hand with the handle, and roughly opens it before placing the device on the front row wooden desk. It’s a large hall, and the desks stretch out to the half of the room. You’re feeling stage fright for no particular reason; it feels like reverse claustrophobia. “Open the document and give me your phone.”

You don’t question him and hand in your phone before going through your files on the laptop. Jungkook is looking through your contacts and grins when he finds himself saved as: the love of my life ♡. Jimin is saved by his name, and he finds his WhatsApp through his information below. Once he opens your empty chat with him, he switches to your camera and pushes your back so you’re bent over the desk. You sharply inhale and ask, “Kook?” 

“Don’t get distracted now,” he lightly scolds and starts pulling down your pants. You stopped wearing skirts after the incident a week ago to appease him. You stammer with your back arched, and your ass is on full display for him. It’s humiliating. “Start reading.”

“H-Humans are- Jungkook?” you warily look back at Jungkook when he slides the slit of your panties to the side.

“Are you slacking off?” he condescends. 

You bite your lip anxiously and continue reading, “Humans are social animals that n-need social interaction,” Jungkook spits in his hand, “the extent of our social relationships is the most important predictor of h-happiness.” You squeal when you feel wet fingers graze your folds, but you know better than to stop and ask what he’s doing.

“Continue,” he coaxes softly as he brushes his fingertips over your pussy lips. 

“Um, o-one of the main reasons our brains have developed the way they have is so that we can be social,” you speak between shaky breaths. Your cheeks are tinted crimson with embarrassment from his touches; why is he pleasuring you when he specifically told you, you didn’t deserve any? “Being happy a-all of the time is neither possible nor desirable.”

“Is it now?” He slips a finger in your cunt and you involuntarily let out a cry as you push your body forward. You don’t notice him holding up your phone behind you while slowly sliding his finger in and out of you. His saliva is mixing with your arousal as you answer in a gasp, “Yes.”

“Tell me why.”

“B-Because negative feelings are natural. When it comes to negative feelings, the most important thing to remember is to learn,” you pause to exhale with quivering lips, “to control certain potentially harmful thoughts.” You whine his name when another finger is added to your heat. You’re moving your hips back and forth until he slaps your wet folds as a warning. “Sorry,” you peep and continue in a breath, “Happiness all of the time entails epistemic irrationality.”

It’s difficult to keep your eyes open when you just want to indulge in his thrusts, but you’re encouraged to stop reading when he doesn’t comment on your moans. His pace is quickening and you chase his fingers with your hips, cum dripping down his wrist as you mewl.  

“You enjoying yourself, whore?”

You nod and whimper, “So much.” You’re clutching the edge of the desk as he fingers you with fervor.

“And you're my girl?” 

“Yes, all yours, I love you so much,” you pant, not stopping for a moment to question his words. He has a full view of your sopping wet cunt on the camera, and he lightly blows on you, making you shiver. He’s recording you confess your love for him while getting fingered.

“Only me?” he presses.

“Only you, Jungkook, I love you more than anything,” you slur as you start to feel a knot in your stomach.

“Then pee.”

“Wh-What?”

“Touch your clit and pee.” He removes his fingers from your clenching hole and takes a step back. “Prove your love to me.”

You mourn the loss of his hand while staring wide-eyed at the floor. You’re contemplating his demand as your hand slowly reaches down to your clit. Is he asking you to squirt? Your breathing is shallow as you near your climax, and you still don’t know if you’ll go through with his requirement.

It drips out in tiny drops as you come undone, moaning as clear liquid spills out of you for only a few seconds. 

“Good girl, my good little girl,” Jungkook whispers as he intently watches you humiliate yourself in the name of love. You’re twitching and trembling in shame when he stops recording you and sends it to Jimin without a second’s waste. “Are you okay, baby?”

You hum with a pout as you collect yourself by standing up straight, a sway in your posture. 

“Give me your panties, you’ve made a mess on the floor,” he chastises as he holds out a hand. You slip and step out of them before giving it to him. In return, he passes your phone before feigning a gasp, “Shit, I think I sent Jimin a video of you when I was trying to forward it to my phone.”

Your mouth falls open as heat consumes your entire being. “H-Huh?” Tears brim in your eyes almost instantly; your heart is pounding from anxiety.

“How will you ever look at him now,” he empathizes with a fake frown. “He must think of you as such a slut now.”

“Let me delete it,” you panic as you open your phone. “Wh-Where is it?”

He motions you to give him the phone and opens WhatsApp after. “He’s already seen it.” There are two blue ticks under the message.

“No, no, no,” you pull your hair in agony with a whimper. You quickly put your pants back on and cry as you do so.

“I guess that’s the end of your friendship,” he raises his eyebrows to himself without a hint of sympathy.

“What do I do?!” you wail and fling your hands in stress.

“Avoid him. I’ll make sure he won’t leak it.”

He steps forward to lean in your face intimidatingly. “And don’t talk to him ever again.”

You don’t exactly have a choice now, do you? 

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