#(i hate this. so fucking much. i’m nearly in tears and hiding in the bathroom just to breathe)

[ilkkawhat]

.

[liz-allyn]

Omg im so sorry i Hope i didn’t intrude and I pray that things are ok now

It seems I’ll need to drum up more fluffy head canons because Damn ma’am I pretty sure I must have violated the spider gods for you to rain such angst down on me after such a soft chapter damn it nearly killed me to see John show her those pictures I guessed it would be the first things he would show her you told me there would be blood during the eventual confrontation between him and Peter and I’m gonna hold on to that so as to keep my sanity to try and not materialise into the story so I can put a boot to johns ass myself I really really am worried about what the fuck has he placed between her thighs some sort of tracking device ??!!!? Idk but I’m worried also a little muddled about what happened with the car did ? Did Peter make it explode ? Fisks doing ? Johns ? I hope we find out soon if anyone comes after my babies aka miles of Bella I’m gonna be John wick on their ass through some teleportation that’s all we need them all there for my fluffy family ending and no one is going to ruin that

What actually Made me tear up tho is Peters reaction to honey when the car went up in flames took right back to him holding Gwen under the clock tower for me ahhh 😱 speaking of what !!! Peter might have killed Gwen is that what this was the venom inside him getting unhinged and splitting people in half and making cars explode

also the ending of the chapter is so ominous my god chills everywhere my whole body

🌌

Thank you dear!

(Spoilers for sugar and vice part 15 under the cut)

Yes, that chapter was intense! It was painful to write, too. I’ve always said that my goal is to bring you down low, break these characters down deep, but then however low they are, I always want them to come back high.

I love how much we hate my John Walker. I actually feel a bit bad sometimes because Wyatt Russell is a pretty good actor and I think he got to face some shitty fandom nerds when TFATWS came out, and as a creator I hate adding to that. But it’s too perfect. As an actor, he’s so talented. His role in Under the Banner of Heaven was terrifying and I feel like it informed a ton of my characterization of this John Walker.

If I’m gonna make a villain, it can’t be some bullshit throw away bad guy. I want you to hate my villain more than the characters do, so that you can triumph when the bad guys lose. Because they always lose.

So for clarity, because I choose vague language carefully in the bathroom scene, but John has Honey’s burner phone on him. When he says “you left this,” he’s handing it back to her, warning her not to ignore him and that he can get to her even when she thinks she’s safe (how did he get her phone out of her bedroom at the penthouse?) So that’s what he shoves in her underwear.

(In chapter 10, Honey is wearing a dress to meet the Pyms, and her favorite feature is that it has pockets. The better to hide that phone on her person and perhaps secretly record conversations.)

Also the car was rigged to explode via a bomb. Interesting how that valet got out of there quick, huh?

Thank you for reading and I’m so glad you liked it!

[eggcompany]

Blue Sugar Part Two

TW: Homophobic Slurs

Karen knew as soon as she saw Billy that something was wrong with her puppy. He had this look in his eyes, feet lazy against the floor like his shoes were too heavy, and he was quiet. He was quiet as she stripped him down, fixing his necklace when it got caught in his hair. He just wasn’t… right. 

She had the wand set out but he just didn’t look up to it. She was right, of course. Intuition. 

He curled up in her lap, keeping his tight green briefs on as he hid his face in her neck. She hugged him, running her hands up and down his spine. He just huffed and moved impossibly closer, body full of stress, hiding his face in the chair. 

“What’s wrong puppy? Tell me why you're all huffy.” She asked, turning so her breath fanned over his ear. His breath caught, hiccuping with a sob, he turned his face to look at her. She pulled back to take in the look on his face. Devastation. 

“I let Eddie Munson fuck me.” He confessed, releasing all the tears and sobs he’d been holding in. He moved so he sat across her lap instead of straddling it as he cried. He was pathetic and he knew it, crying like a baby over sleeping with someone. It made his chest hurt more than it already did. 

There were gasps and whispers around the room, Karen’s eyes widened in surprise. She just held the crying boy, petting him, trying to calm him.

“I’m not a-a fucking fag-got.” Billy sobbed out. It wasn’t backed with hate or lined with a sick disgust. It was like he was trying to convince everyone else, himself. His hands twisted the fabric of Karen’s blouse, desperate for an anchor. 

“We know. We know you're not. Did you… go all the way?” Karen asked once she cleared her throat. Looking down at his glittering blue eyes. Billy sniffed and nodded, leaning his head against her collarbone. 

“I went to his trailer to buy some pot and we ended up smoking and I get all… horny, when I’m high. And we just ended up having sex. Like… sex.” Billy explained and remembered how it happened. Eddie’s hands rolling the joints, his tongue poking out from his soft lips, his room all smokey and warm, his body even warmer…

“Did you want to?” Karen asked, the question holding so much more meaning. It caused the air in the room to still, all eyes on Billy as he shook, shame heavy on his face. 

“Yeah” He whispered so quietly it was nearly impossible to catch. He shook as he cried, shame and guilt crushing him for days finally letting up the more he said, the more he confessed. He felt like a baby, fucking pathetic as he clung to Mrs. Wheeler. But it was almost euphoric, freeing in a way. 

“Did you like it?” Karen asked, voice a bit louder, a bit more upbeat knowing it was consensual. Billy swallowed as he felt his cock twitch. All the images of that night coming back. He spoke against her skin, voice low and heavy. 

“Felt so fucking good and and he was so good at it and he was nice and he was gentle and his…um… thing felt so big. And his hands were so big and rough but like a good rough and his lips… Been thinking about it since it happened.” Billy said and shifted, he could swear he could still feel it. The way he felt loose and aching. But then he felt his stomach flip. 

“I just fucking left after. We did it and I just fucking left. Stuff dripping out of me and my legs felt all weird and I drove stupid and I ended up ruining my jeans and- and, fuck, I’m fucking stupid.” Billy finished as a fresh set of tears started falling from his eyes. He couldn’t help but feel bad about it, the look on Eddie’s face when he stepped out of the bathroom with a wet cloth and Billy was stumbling out the door with just his jeans on. Those stupid brown eyes, they looked so sad, they made Billy want to stay. Haunting him, every time he got close, those stupid big brown eyes looked back at him. And it killed him. 

“You’re not stupid puppy. You’re just confused. You got scared, which is okay, and you left. I bet he didn’t even get mad huh? Have you talked to him?” Karen asked and rocked side to side a bit, arms wrapped around Billy’s ever warm body. He just sniffed, one hand winding its way to wipe at his nose. 

“He just acted like it didn’t happen. Like he doesn’t remember. I can’t stop thinking about it. Can’t look at him.” Billy said, thinking of each time him and Munson ran into each other. He couldn’t stand to see him. Couldn’t stand to see his wild hair or his stupid tight jeans. Couldn’t stand to hear his voice, to hear him humming. Couldn’t stand catching the smell of his cologne and weed when they passed each other. Eddie just smiled at him, looking at him with that stupid face. Billy hated it. He loved it. 

“Why don’t you try again, come back, tell us, and we can help you better.” Karen knew it was wrong to play with the boy’s head. She knew Billy trusted them to guide him. But Billy was their toy to play with. Her toy to introduce more taboo things to. 

“I could- could do that. But I’m shit with words… you know that, Ma” Billy said and sat up, looking at Mrs. Wheeler. His eyes were sparkling, blue ocean waters catching the sunlight. She looked around, the other women’s eyes were all full of hunger. Like they were all thinking of the same thing. 

“You could record it. Maybe the audio would be enough. You can just try to explain it.” Karen said and Billy looked down at his own hands, fidgeting in front of his waistband. 

“I can… I have a camera” Billy said quietly. He remembered the camcorder that his step-mom had gotten, the big clunky thing that his dad hated and thought was a waste of money so they never used it. The stupid camera that came with a stand. He knew how to use it. How to record the tapes. 

He felt nervous, hoping it wasn’t wrong. But that was washed away when he looked up and saw Mrs. Wheelers smile and the other women’s happy claps and agreements rang out. 

“That would be perfect. We can make sure you’re doing it right.” Karen said and Billy smiled back, pleased that he was doing something right. He loved doing it right. 

-0-0-0-0-0-

Billy handed over the tape. He was loose from the joint he’d smoked while he was pacing in his room. He knew he should be anxious, but he just wasn’t. He handed over the tape easily from his jacket pocket. This wasn’t the Wheeler house but it was nighttime, they had to watch the tape somewhere secluded. So in this basement with a door locked upstairs with a sleeping man another floor up, he handed over his more embarrassing moments. 

He stripped out of his clothes, his loose boxers and socks covering him. He curled up on the floor between pedicured feet, under a soft blue blanket. It didn’t smell like Karen but that was okay when Mrs. Wheeler leaned down to kiss his forehead. He fell into a trance as a hand ran through his hair, scratching at his scalp. 

He heard the clicking of the buttons on the box TV, pulling the blanket closer around him, as if it would protect him from what was about to be seen. He felt sick, not the good kind of humiliated sick, but like he could puke. Like he could just die and sink through the cold concrete floor. 

But this is what they wanted, what Ma wanted. It’s what made them happy. He made them happy. That’s why they loved him.

[yoonpobs]

bad boy good thing | m

pairing: jeon jungkook x oc

genre: angst, smut, fluff, miscommunication (we hate her lol), pining

warnings: smut, jungkook is really an asshole, the angst hurts a lot tbh, unhealthy relationships (?)

words: 3, 451

summary: a series of drabbles where you're confused and jungkook's confusing

“You’re so pretty like this,” Jungkook whispers against your cheek but it’s nothing like sweet nothings that would comfort you.

No. It’s dirty, it’s relentless when he hooks his fingers upwards against your spongey walls while his other hand clamps on your mouth to keep your gasps at bay. There’s nothing that you can do when he has your pleasure quite literally in the palm of his hands.

“Mmph.” You groan, hips bucking upwards despite your mind telling you that this was wrong, that you weren’t like this.

But Jungkook had a way of clouding your conscience and leading you to unmapped territories when he looks at you with his doe-eyes that looked nothing like innocence but more like trouble.

Jungkook’s absolutely brutal when he finger fucks your pussy until it's squelching within the bathroom walls, nearly overpowering the music from outside. You’re pathetically whining and moaning under him, back stained with sweat while he presses you against the sink. When he looks at you, it’s almost worth it.

Almost.

“This fucking pussy gets wet only for me, yeah?” He growls, eyes barring anomalistically when he releases his other hand from your mouth to grip your chin to look at him.

You can’t control the moan that you let out when he drags his fingertips across the spongey surface of your cunt, your hole fluttering around his long digits that hypnotised you every single time.

“J-Jungkook—” You gasp when he presses his thumb against your clit, your wetness lubricating the movement until your legs shudder around his hips while his eyes zero onto your pussy.

The way he revs up his spit at the back of his throat should’ve been disgusting and you should’ve run for the hills, but Jungkook had a way of making everything you were taught to avoid look appetising because a dollop of his slaver drops directly onto your clit and you feel your stomach clench.

“Fuck. You’re such a slut, aren’t you?” He hisses, “Acting so prim and proper on the outside but you just wanna get fucked like a dirty little secret, huh?”

You shake your head when he pounds harder into you that your body is hiking up the sink with the force he’s exerting into shoving his fingers into your pussy. Tears of ecstasy or shame—you don’t know—but they’re accumulating at the edge of your eyes and threatening release, just like your orgasm that’s impending.

“You’re a liar.” He spits at you and it’s not as malicious as it should be because he’s smirking, a grin so menacing but addictive that you can’t help your dazed eyes that fall onto his face.

Your hand is gripping his shoulder while the other holds onto the sink because your pussy is spasming around his fingers and your wetness is everywhere. It’s on his jeans, fingers, and the remnants of your juice taint his lips—and you feel your stomach clench harder while your mind grows fuzzier.

“N-Not lying.” You whimper.

Jungkook scoffs like he doesn’t believe you, “You’re a liar. You’re a bad girl, aren’t you? What’s everyone going to think if they see you fucked out with just my fingers?”

Your eyes roll to the back of your head when he leans down in one sudden motion that you can’t even catch up with and envelopes your throbbing bud into his mouth and sucks. Sucks so hard that you scream and you’re sure the partygoers know exactly what’s going on in the bathroom.

“Jungkook!” You scream, clutching his hair.

He chuckles darkly against your pussy but doesn’t relent his actions. The dark locks between your thighs make everything much harder to focus on, but all you can feel and see in Jungkook.

“N-No—I c-can’t—fuck!—” You’re not pushing him away but your hips are unconsciously grinding against his mouth when he finger fucks your pussy all while giving you the beautiful stimulation from his hot mouth.

“You’re going to cum for me and drench my face, yeah?” He mumbles into your pussy but it’s nothing short of demanding, “Gonna eat your fucking pussy clean.”

You’re so close, so so close and Jungkook feels it. He’s generous today, hooking his fingers deeper, and harder until—

“Fuck!” You scream.

Jungkook smirks against your pussy, knowing he’s found it. And Jungkook is someone who doesn’t stop when he knows he’s doing well, he just goes harder. That’s exactly what he does that pushes you over the edge.

He hooks his fingers until you’re nearly lifted off the sink, but his hand presses against your stomach to keep you still, prolonging the intense feeling of pleasure mixed with pain.

“J-Jungkook—f-fuck, I—can’t—p-please—I’m c-cumming—” You’re a blubbering mess and you’re outwardly crying, and Jungkook loves the tears that stream down your face as a result of his hard work on your pussy.

“Cum for me pretty.” He rubs your clit vigorously as he pulls away just to see you unravel.

And you do, so intensely and captivatingly that Jungkook nearly cums himself on the spot. But you were a sight to behold when your face contorts in pleasure, pussy clenching uncontrollably while you spurt the evidence of your orgasm all over the sink and onto Jungkook’s clothes.

Your orgasm is all too long and too short, but it’s good. It sends you away to a spiral of acute gratification that doesn’t disappoint. You barely make out Jungkook’s darkened but pleased expression when your body shudders from the aftershocks of your orgasm.

When you come down, and you blink your eyes to come back to the world—the first thing you see is Jungkook’s stained shirt like he spilled water on it but it was just the proof of your arousal and his effort.

Jungkook tugs you close to make sure you see the way he sticks his three fingers into his mouth, smirking at your wide eyes.

“Good girls taste the best.” He hums.

You blush despite the fact he’s seen the worst and best parts of you, hiding away from his keen gaze when he leans down to chase your lips.

“The p-party.” You mumble.

Jungkook scoffs with a wicked grin on his face, “Bet everyone heard how loud you get for me.”

You grimace at the thought of walking out there, where your friends and peers are after the session Jungkook put you through with the redness on your cheeks that could only allude to one thing.

And what you did with Jungkook comes crashing down onto you all at once, even if your stomach still flutters at the pleasure he’s given you. You weren’t like this. You didn’t follow men into bathrooms and let them stick their fingers into your pussy just so you could chase your high. You didn’t let men like Jungkook touch you the way he did when he squeezed your cheeks to look at him.

You broke all of the rules you made for yourself, compartmentalised in your brain—and you can only blame—

“Jungkook.” You say softly, eyes looking up to him and you’re sure he sees your dried tears, “This has to stop.”

For the second time of the night, Jungkook looks like he doesn’t believe you. And that’s probably because you don’t even believe yourself.

Jungkook smirks, “You say that every time it’s over but you’re the one looking for me when I’m gone.”

“I don’t look for you.” You frown.

He scoffs.

“You don’t? Then why would the esteemed _____ who sets the fucking curve all the damn time turn up at a house party where she doesn’t belong?”

You purse your lips and look away. You both knew that parties were not your thing and definitely not one where a bunch of drunk college students was involved.

“You know the only reason I’m here tonight is because of Jimin and Tae.” You snap.

He rolls his eyes before caging you into the sink, and you realise that your skirt is still lifted up—wetness sticking your thighs together in an uncomfortable way that makes you wince.

“And where are they now?” He sneers, looking at you in a mocking manner.

You clench your fists by your side and try to look brave in front of Jungkook. There was no reason why he had this effect on you when you were older than him when he used to worship the ground you walked on when you were children. Now that the tables were turned you had no clue how to navigate it.

“They’re—they’re …” You appeal helplessly, “Does it matter?”

Jungkook tongues the inside of his cheek in a way that you noted came from a childhood habit turned attractive, and you hate yourself even more for feeling your heart flutter.

“That’s what I thought.” Jungkook snorts.

He pushes himself off the sink and away from you, and you unconsciously find yourself chasing him. Jungkook notices this but chooses to just smirk at you. You try to glare at him and convince both of you that you didn’t want him, that you wouldn’t come back.

But when Jungkook cups your jaw with his right hand and brings his lips to yours before he leaves, you know that choice was never yours, to begin with.

Sana approaches you out of the blue after one of your lectures and you know something is up when her eyebrows are raised.

“Hey, ____!”

You turn around, nearly slamming into her when she steadies herself, eyes inquisitive with a knowing smile that you don’t like.

Sana was one of those people in college that you were friends with purely for convenience. She was in a few of your lectures and somehow always ended up in your group during projects; so it was strategic for you to maintain an amicable relationship with her.

You thought you could see yourself being good friends with her, but she was far too extroverted and involved in campus affairs. Not that was a bad thing—but it was bad for your social ineptness and lack of engagement in social settings. And the fact that wherever she went, gossip seemed to follow.

“Sana.” You greet with a small smile.

She nudges your shoulders before the two of you fall into similar steps as you make your way out of the lecture hall.

“How have you been?” You know it’s small talk and that she’s easing you in, which only settles the anxiety further at the pit of your stomach.

“I’ve been busy.” You shrug, “Mid-terms are around the corner.”

She snorts, “By corner you mean two months down the road and you’re just being an overachiever?”

You blush at being called out and you know she meant no ill-intent. She laughs at your reaction while you offer her a sheepish smile in return.

“It’s always good to be prepared.”

She nods her head as the two of you approach the outdoor student lounge where a few other college kids were either dozing off or typing away on their laptops for last-minute assignments.

“So I heard …” Sana trails off and you sigh knowingly, already somewhat prepared.

“You heard …?” You parrot.

“You and Jeon are close, right?”

You stop in your tracks when you hear his name, as you feel her stop right behind you while you tuck your laptop to your chest.

“J-Jeon?”

Sana nods when you turn around to face her. You hope she isn’t as observant as you think she is because your face is undoubtedly red right now.

“Yeah. Jungkook.” She reaffirms.

“We’re … we grew up together.” You tell her, “With Jimin and Taehyung.”

You made sure to include your other two friends because you didn’t like where the conversation was going, and you needed to ensure there was some form of distance established between you and Jungkook, not wanting to further entangle yourself with him than you already are.

She raises an eyebrow, “So you’re close?”

You shrug your shoulders.

“I guess you could say that. We went to the same high school so it was natural for our paths to cross.”

Sana nods her head slowly as if processing the information.

“Why—”

“But you’re older than him, right?” She asks with a tilt of her head.

You blink at her, then you nod. Redness on your cheeks already appearing.

“Yeah. B-But … I mean by only two years. It’s not like that’s a lot.” You say defensively.

You weren’t sure why you felt the need to clarify that because there was no reason why Sana needed to know that you were just two years older than Jungkook. It was the type of information that was unnecessary and redundant given that she clearly pointed out the fact you were older.

Sana hums before looking at you with knowing eyes, but you try to pretend like you don’t see it.

“And you’ve never fooled around before?”

Her question makes you choke and causes heat to rapidly rush to your cheeks.

“What?” You cry, “Of course not!”

Sana looks at you dryly before schooling herself with a neutral smile.

“None at all?” She pries, “But he’s so hot?”

You roll your eyes, already wanting to leave the conversation, knowing it wasn’t the wisest decision to have allowed it to prolong this far after Jungkook’s name was brought up.

“He’s like a litter brother to me.” You snap.

You hate that you know you’re lying through your teeth because you would have not let a little brother do the things Jungkook has done to you.

Sana nods, sides of her lips twitching upwards at your answer.

You sigh, “What is this about?”

She waves you off.

“Just wanted to know if he was single.”

You raise an eyebrow, heart nearly stopping at the insinuation.

“Okay …?”

Sana smiles up at you like she wasn’t interrogating you on your apparent relationship with Jungkook, a young boy turned bad with the realism of college-hood and social interactions that you can’t even compare him to the boy you knew from high school; all awkward and limbs.

“My friend’s asking. You know Jennie?”

You almost turn pale. Because of course, you know Jennie because she’s beautiful, popular, outgoing and everything that you weren’t; and everything Jungkook should’ve liked—and you were sure he did.

“Y-Yeah.” You stutter.

“She always thought you two were together so she never made her move. At least I can tell her that isn’t the case.” Sana chirps.

“Y-Yeah … you can.” You mumble, eyes looking away and the only thing plaguing your mind is the visual of Jennie and Jungkook together.

“But I always did try to tell her that she was in her head about the two of you.” Sana laughs.

You turn around, and your heart knows you should keep your mouth shut but you were always too curious for your own good.

“Oh?” You furrow your eyebrows.

“Yeah.” Sana shrugs, “I mean. You’re top of the class, Ms. Student President and always put together. And not to say Jungkook isn’t but … he’s not exactly like you, you know?”

You know that. Because every time you look at old pictures of you and Jungkook you already felt the disparity, the clear-cut chase that he was at the top of the food chain while you were always left with the leftovers. You weren’t the type of girl that hung around Jungkook’s circle and he wasn’t the type of person you would hang out with.

The two of you weren’t young anymore and Jimin and Taehyung weren’t able to be that bridge between the both of you either. You and Jungkook were so drastically different and it scared you because you remember a time where you thought he was the endgame.

“I guess you’re right.” You say softly.

“Anyways. Sorry for bothering you!” Sana smiles before tugging her bag over her shoulder and offering you a small wave before she darts off in the other direction.

You’re left standing in the middle of the lounge with a heavier sense of dread on your shoulders, and the image of Jennie in your mind. She’s pretty. And you bet she’s nice too, but fun enough for Jungkook to want. Nothing like you.

But you shake your head off with the thoughts. You didn’t even deserve to think about this because Jungkook was never yours. Even if he tempts you with his words and his scalding touch, you were just someone familiar to him.

He didn’t want you.

You purse your lips and will yourself not to shed a tear in public, so you quickly turn on your heel to head towards the library; where the world is a lot quieter.

“Did you see this?” Jimin leans closer to shove his phone in front of your face.

You frown and ignore him, but he’s like an annoying brother who won’t budge when he waves the device even more.

“What?” You snap, eyes shut in irritation.

“Damn. Who pissed in your cereal?” Jimin mutters.

You roll your eyes and sigh, looking at him with a softer expression.

“Sorry.” You wince, “I just had a bad day and … I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have unloaded it on you.”

Jimin smiles at you pitifully before turning to face you, placing his phone downwards on the table.

“You wanna talk about it?”

You think about what’s been bothering you and you can only think of Jungkook. How he pretended like he didn’t know you after he fingered you in the bathroom at a party. How Sana didn’t think you and Jungkook were possible. How Jennie was interested and she was gorgeous. How Jungkook would be too.

“Nah.” You wave him off, forcing a smile that doesn’t reach your eyes.

Jimin eyes you sceptically but you rest a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

“You sure?”

You nod, before cocking your head to his phone.

“What did you want to show me?”

He blinks at his phone and then picks it up, already in a different mood when he opens his device to his Instagram page.

“Did you know Kook and Jennie were a thing?” Is the first thing you hear after Jimin shows you a video that makes your heart drop into your stomach.

It’s Jungkook—and Jennie.

But that’s not it.

They’re kissing, quite passionately and people are egging them on when Jungkook slips a leg between her thighs while he cradles her face against his own. You see people cheering and hollering when Jungkook slips his tongue into her mouth, and Jennie smiling against the kiss.

It was at the party. The party where he fingered you and kissed you on the lips before he proceeded to pretend like he didn’t know you and disappear.

You wonder how you missed all of that.

“______?” Jimin calls out to you.

You blink up at him before he looks at you with a confused yet concerned expression.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” He asks.

You clear the lump in your throat, and your point is proven. They do look good together.

“I-I …” You mumble, “Yeah. I’m okay.”

Jimin doesn’t believe you and he sets his phone down, but before he can say anything a new figure joins you at the table by slamming their stuff down.

When you look up, you see Jungkook—and it hurts so badly when you recognise his cocksure smirk with his eyes trained on your face.

“What are the two of you whispering about?” He snorts, settling into his seat.

Before Jimin can say anything, you push yourself up abruptly that startles both Jimin and Jungkook.

“I have to go.” You blurt.

Jimin furrows his eyebrows, “Are you really okay—”

“Yes.” You say tightly, packing your belongings as quickly as you can without sparing Jungkook another glance.

“You’re not even going to say hi?” Jungkook asks, and if you were in a better headspace then you’d hear the slight irritation in his tone.

You purse your lips, but still, keep your eyes away from him. You don’t respond to him, and neither do you flatter Jimin’s concerned stare.

But before you can leave, Jimin grabs your wrist and your breath hitches, head-turning slowly to face him while you ignore Jungkook’s heavy gaze on you.

“Text me?” He says softly.

You knew from Jimin’s eyes that he’s worried, and you felt slightly guilty for leaving him behind like this when you promised him to study. But you couldn’t be around Jungkook right now. Not when your mind was everywhere and you were confused about everything.

Not when the video exists.

“I will.” You reply, equally as soft.

You tug your hands away and don’t spare Jungkook another glance before you’re rushing out of the library, the lump in your throat more apparent than ever.

[midnight-on-pluto]

Comforting Denki & Shinsou masterlist

A/N: this was an ask that came in from @chilledpolarbeer that I accidentally posted, then tried to post privately because it wasn’t done and It’s now in the abiss of whatever the fuck so I’m answering it here! I believe it was an add on to a previous post that I didn’t see until it was too late, so I’ve just done the two characters you asked for because it was different then what I wrote 💕

╰➤ Denki is a naturally confident boy, he doesn’t seem the type to get insecure. He’s very flirty, talkative, and just out there so it’s hard to see he would ever cry over something he hates about himself, he simply doesn’t hate himself.

╰➤ Which is why it was shocking to have him show up at your dorm, tears forming in his red rimmed eyes, babbling incoherent sentences that seemed to make him sob more.

╰➤ First of all, you were confused. Why was he crying? What was he saying? And why’d he come to you?

╰➤ You let him in and shut the door behind him. When you turned around Denki had stopped blabbing and was now taking deep breath’s to get his point out.

╰➤ His eyes caught yours and he managed to mumble out a soft, “I’m stupid,” before completely breaking down again.

╰➤ His body moved forwards to yours, hugging you tightly and you could feel his tears soaking your shirt.

╰➤ You only understand a small part of the problem. He hadn’t managed to get out nearly as much he he’d wanted to and that seemed to make it worse.

╰➤ To help calm him down you rubbed his back, letting him crying it out so you could understand more.

╰➤ Eventually, after about five minutes, he seemed to stop. Small tears still fell from his eyes, but the sobbing stopped.

╰➤ He pulled away from you and sat down on your bed before taking a deep breath.

╰➤ “I can’t even use my quirk without being such an idiot. How can I become a hero with that? I’ll be in the middle of a fight and then—” Denki mocks his dumb mode before letting out a soft sob again.

╰➤ You quickly cupped his cheek in your hand, swiping the fallen tear from his skin. His eyes looked up at you, still glassy.

╰➤ “Denki, you’re the most amazing here,” you told him. “Sure, you’re set back can be bad, but you know your limits. You have a strong quirk, I promise you’re gonna do great things as a hero.”

╰➤ He seemed to cheer up after that, going back to his flirtatious self and chatting with you.

╰➤ Shinsou rarely told anybody about his headaches. It’s not that he was really self conscious about them, it just wasn’t something he really wanted known, especially since it was one of his weaknesses.

╰➤ It took some really hard observation to notice them too. He gets them during class, a lot. So far he’s gotten used to hiding the pain, only showing a slight wince and maybe a hiss when they happen. He’ll excuse himself, then wander off to the bathroom.

╰➤ Of course, you’ve picked up on his strange behaviour, who doesn’t when they’re staring at him for most of class.

╰➤ It’s not easy to pick up on, he’s very sneaky when it comes to leaving. He’s chosen a seat close to the door, undetectable by even some teachers, where it’s easy for him to slip out and wander to the closest empty room.

╰➤ One day when he sneaks out, you’re the only to notice. The teacher was too caught up in teaching, facing the board while everyone else either slept or watched with little to no interest.

╰➤ You quickly raised your hand and asked your teacher to use the restroom, fumbling out the door as soon as you were given permission.

╰➤ Luckily Shinsou hadn’t moved much from the classroom, he just sat against a wall, close to the bathroom across the hall. His hands covered his head, face tucked into his knees.

╰➤ You approached him slowly, it was clear that he was mumbling something inaudible, annoyed.

╰➤ “Shinsou?” You called his name and his head flew up, making him wince in pain and hold the back of his head.

╰➤ His reaction was frightening of course, but he tried giving a reassuring smile. You sat down in front of him, placing a hand on his knee while he looked over at you.

╰➤ “Shinsou what’s wrong?” You asked. You found his behaviour weird, but never knew the exact reason why he left so much.

╰➤ Tears started overflowing his waterline as he explained the pain, something he referred to as “ice pick headaches.”

╰➤ It wasn’t something you were aware of, but the way he explained it made you understand why he always left.

╰➤ Carefully, you wrapped your arms around him, snuggling into his shoulder. “I’m sorry,” you say quietly.

╰➤ At first he’s shocked, but he warms into your embrace and allows you to wait out the headache with him.

╰➤ Afterwards he just always goes to you when his headaches are bad, you make him tea and make sure he drinks plenty of water, getting the room as dark as you can while the two of you snuggle until his headaches are gone.

[earlgreydream]

brat.

| Bucky Barnes x reader | smut |

warnings: smut, mild degradation (not meant seriously), spanking, dom/sub dynamic, general chaos

a/n: I can’t deal with the pressure of my life, I need James Buchanan Barnes to make me let it go

Bucky had been agitated since you had sent him naughty photos of yourself while he was in the middle of a meeting. He had glanced at his phone and immediately turned it face down and continued speaking. After the meeting, he sat at his desk, looking at the photos you’d sent. His favorite was one where you had your tits out, wearing just little black panties, along with a black ribbon tied around your neck.

He’d originally been the one to tie the ribbon around your neck, about a year ago. He’d hooked his fingers in the satin and dragged you forward like it was a collar, making you blush and shy.

Now, you wore the ribbon around your neck whenever you were in the particular mood for Bucky to make you feel owned.

You were always under constant stress and pressure to perform well, having to control and manage everything, both at work and school. The only place where you could let it go, relinquish all control, was in the bedroom with Bucky... or on the kitchen counters, the bathroom of a club, his desk at work, and anywhere else he could get his hands on you.

When you were alone with Bucky, you became playful, soft, and sweet, and it turned him on to no end. Bucky truly thought you were the most gorgeous and hottest girl in the universe, and he practically worshipped you.

That is, except when you were being a needy brat, like today. Sending him naughty photos at work (unprompted) was strictly against your rules, and you knew you played a dangerous game with him. Bucky wasn’t one to play around when it came to testing the boundaries.

Secretly, that was why you did it. You wanted Bucky riled up, to come home and be rough with you. You wanted him hard and unrelenting, to have you screaming and writhing for him. You were tense from your stressful week, and he was too, and there was no better solution in your mind to release that built up tension.

He shut off his phone as his boss walked in, asking him about a project, and Bucky struggled to focus on what he was being told, too distracted by the image of your soft tits swirling in his mind.

“Thanks, Barnes.”

“Yeah, sure.” He called back half-heartedly, picking his phone back up once he was alone.

~you’re going to fucking regret that, baby~

~I doubt it. X~

He was practically seething at your response, ideas of how to get you in line already forming. He was fed up with your bratty attitude, and his annoyance just built over the course of the afternoon.

When he was finally finished with work, he drove home faster than normal. The door smacked loudly against the wall when he entered, alerting you he was mad. Your heart jumped in your chest, and you felt a pang of regret at your insolence.

“Y/N!” Bucky’s voice echoed, and you nervously walked down the hallway in one of his oversized button downs.

He stopped for a moment, taking in the sight of you. You looked small and meek, innocent in his big shirt. Ribbon was tied around the base of your neck, and your eyes were shining as you gazed up at him.

“Hi, daddy”

He almost melted at the sweet sound of your voice, at the utter innocence you seemed to hold. He dropped his keys in the dish by the door, snapping out of it. He stared at you with a hard gaze, entirely unamused by your earlier behavior. You sank into yourself, taking a step back. He stepped forward, and you continued until he had backed you against the wall outside of your guest bedroom at the end of the hall.

“What do you have to say for yourself?” Bucky asked you, waiting for an apology.

I’m sorry daddy, is what you should have said, attempting to win over the last bit of forgiveness he was willing to give you. Instead, you decided to dig yourself into deeper trouble, unable to resist the temptation to goad him by being a brat.

“I could’ve gotten myself off in the time it took you to get home, maybe even more than-” you didn’t even get to finish your sentence before he was on you.

He hooked his fingers into the ribbon, jerking your small body against his. His silver eyes blazed, threatening you to struggle.

“Do you think you’re fucking funny?” He growled, and you stared back at him, suppressing your fear.

“A little, actually.”

That did it.

“Get on your fucking knees, you insolent brat!” He snapped, jerking you downwards so you were kneeling in front of him.

Your knees bit into the hardwood floor, and the ribbon left a faint red ring around your neck from him dragging you by it. His hand went up your neck to your cheek, and you flinched as he sharply tapped your face. It wasn’t enough to be a slap, Bucky would never hit you in a way you didn’t like, but the sharp smack made arousal drip from your core.

You wanted him to run his fingers through your hair to guide you, like he did when he was feeling softer, but you knew that you’d pushed him too far to receive any sort of help.

He grabbed your jaw and forced your mouth open before burying himself in your throat. He did it in one quick movement that had you gagging, choking on his length. Bucky didn’t care about your fight to breathe, snapping his hips at a brutal pace, stretching your throat. You did your best to open for him, but tears slid down your cheeks from your lack of oxygen.

“Y/N, look at you, letting me fuck your throat like a little whore.” His words dripped with condescension and you looked up at him with glassy eyes.

You moaned around him, sending vibrations that pushed him closer to the edge.

“You’re going to swallow, got it?” He ordered and you made a noise of approval, feeling his cock twitch in your mouth. He came in thick spurts, his cock deep in your throat. You swallowed his seed as well as possible, gasping as he pulled out of you. You lost your balance and put a hand on his thigh to steady you. He stepped back, letting you fall forward, barely catching yourself.

You whined in protest, and he grabbed you by the hair and jerked your head back to look up at him. Your chest was heaving as you drew in oxygen, your face was sticky with tears, and your mouth was salty with his taste.

"You look so pretty on your knees for me," Bucky's tone was mocking, a slight Russian accent hanging off his words, a silent threat hanging in the air.

"I did so good, sucking you off like you wanted-" you were about to ask if he'd take care of you now, and he just let out a short laugh.

"You think you're getting off?" He spoke as if it were completely ridiculous.

"Yes?" You tried, and he shook his head.

"Then you shouldn't have been such a little brat. Brats don't get to come."

"But daddy-!" You whined in protest.

Your mouth snapped shut when he dragged you up to your feet and tore his button down off of you. You shivered in the cold air, and his fingers hooked into your panties, pulling them down your legs.

"You're fucking soaked, Y/N. Is this just from sucking me off?" He embarrassed you.

"Y/N!" He snapped when you didn't answer, fed up with your disobedience.

"Yes," you breathed, blinking back fresh tears of anxiety.

"I'll give you something to cry about." He threatened and you bit your lip, knowing it wasn't an empty threat.

"Safeword?" he asked, making sure you were able to communicate with him if it was too much.

"Falcon," you answered obediently and he nodded. He took your wrists in his hands, noticing the way your hands were trembling. He kissed your smooth skin, though his gaze didn't soften.

"On the bed. Now." He pointed, and you bent over the edge of the bed, your ass on display for him. You hid your face in your arms, hiding the embarrassment visible on your cheeks from being so exposed.

A shaky whine escaped as you heard his belt snap, fear prickling up your spine. He watched you squirm on the bed. He knew you hated being smacked with the belt, and he leaned against the wall, watching you nearly lose your mind in anticipation. He was curious to see if you'd continue the bratty behavior, or if this was what would finally cause you to break, and his fingers twitched as he ached to turn your ass pink.

As soon as the tension began to leave your body, and you settled on the mattress, he landed the first blow with the leather on your ass. You screamed both from shock, and the welcome pain that blossomed across your skin.

His dark laughter echoed in your guest bedroom, and chills made your body shudder. You were getting what you wanted, this had been your goal from the beginning. You also knew that you were completely safe, that Bucky loved you dearly, and this was just a bedroom scene, not meant to truly hurt you. Despite both of those facts, the fear was very much real. Bucky was incredibly intimidating, especially when he was mad.

"Four more, alright?"

"Yes, daddy."

Dry sobs burned your throat as he spanked you quickly, leaving pink stripes across your fair skin, but light enough they'd disappear by morning. It was more psychological than physical, and it was causing you to nearly shake with arousal. It was dripping down your legs, and Bucky noticed, adding to the shame of just being spanked. He took a step toward you, squeezing your ass in his large hands, making you whimper in discomfort. He slapped your skin, and you struggled to contain your pained yelps. It wasn’t near as bad as the belt, but the sting spread through your skin as he continued your punishment. 

You sighed in relief when he finally finished, wrapping his hand around your throat and pulling you up so your back was against his chest. He gave your throat a squeeze, making your eyes roll back. He kissed your shoulder before biting down into your smooth skin. You squirmed in his grip, mewling softly. 

“I’m sorry,” you breathed, looking up and meeting his gaze. 

“I know you are, baby,” He kissed your mouth for the first time, and you melted into his hold, ignoring your soreness. 

“Hands and knees for me, doll.” 

He released his grip on you, lightly tapping your thigh to get you to climb up on the bed. You moved onto the bed, but your arms were unsteady, so you dropped down to your elbows, letting your back arch.

“Can’t hold myself up,” you murmured apologetically, not wanting him to think that you were being bratty. He kissed your bum, and you sighed quietly at the tender action. 

“I want to come, daddy,” you begged, hoping he had softened.

“I’m sure you do.” 

You squeezed your eyes shut, knowing that you weren’t going to get what you want. Bucky’s hands wrapped around your hips, holding you steady as he stood behind you. You squirmed as he rubbed the head of his cock through your folds, a choked noise leaving your throat as he brushed your clit. You were on edge, but you knew if you spilled over, he would spank you until you were bleeding.

He noticed the shudder it caused, and his voice came deep and threatening. 

“Don’t you fucking dare.” 

“I won’t!” you promised, wanting to be good for him. 

“Better not.” 

He thrusted forward, rolling his hips until he was buried all the way in you, making you yell and grip the sheets in front of you. The stretch burned, your body never quite getting used to his size. Usually he eased into you, but he clearly didn’t care about your pleasure right now. 

He began to snap his hips against yours, using your body to chase his own release. His hands slipped off of your hips and snaked around to your front, going up to your breasts. He squeezed roughly and pinched your nipples, pulling them between his fingers, making your vision spark. You shrieked at the sensation, and you tightened around him. You held back your orgasm, fighting against the urge to release. 

“Your cunt feels so good around me, doll. If you keep squeezing me like that, I’m going to lose my mind,” Bucky murmured, his words getting lost in your mind.

You tightened around him purposely, feeling him twitch before painting your insides with his release. He groaned deeply, continuing with shallow thrusts as he emptied himself into your heat. When he pulled out, he stared at your swollen sex, his release dripping out, and down your thighs. You screamed as he slapped the sensitive area, arching your back. You whimpered out a beg to ease up on you, and he moved you to lay on your back. You were barely there, whimpering out apologies pathetically, and he kissed a line from your belly up to your lips.

“You’re forgiven, doll.” He said, kissing you sweetly.

“Please, I’ll be so good.” You were desperate, throbbing around nothing, and you wanted to release the tension your body held so bad.

Bucky watched you beg, almost inclined to put his head back between your legs.

“Fine.” He sat on the bed, pulling you to straddle his thigh. You looked at him in confusion as he held your hips down.

“You can ride my thigh and get off that way, or you can quit complaining.”

Your eyes widened, and your face burned in humiliation. You hesitated for a moment before giving into your needs, rolling your hips and dragging your core over his thigh. You squeezed your eyes shut, burying your face in his shoulder as he quietly mocked you and how desperate you were. Your thighs started to shake, and he bounced his leg, making you come with a scream as you bit down lightly on his shoulder. 

“Daddy, no,” you complained as his hand snaked down to pinch your clit, sending shocks through you.

“Watch your mouth.” He ordered, grabbing your jaw in his free hand, disapproving of your protests. He overstimulated you, turning your pleasure into torture. You struggled to catch your breath as you writhed on his lap, begging him to let you ease up. You swore at him, and he smacked your already stinging core. You yelped at the pain, letting him have his way, too exhausted to protest further. 

You could’ve cried again as he finally eased up, deciding you had adequately paid for your misbehavior. After, he spent the entire evening showering you with attention, showing his soft side and loving on you.

[stanknotstark]

5 Times You Shared a Bed with Loki and 1 Time You Made an Excuse to Share a Bed

Rubs hands together. Lets do this. 😈 

One

It’s after a battle, to start. 

Everyone is exhausted and Tony spent nearly two hours, two, arguing with the hotel concierge about the rooms. You and everyone else sat in the lobby letting Tony work his magic. 

Tony comes back and gives everyone keys. When he stops in front of you he winces then says, “YouhavetosharearoomwithLoki.”

You blink at Tony slowly and he sighs, rubs a hand over his neck with a grimace on his face. 

“You have to share a room with Loki because you’re the newbie.”

You look at the key card in Tony’s hands, up to Tony’s face, then over at Loki who sits napping while sitting up, his head tilted back on the wall while Thor talks to him about his battle he fought. 

You grab the card from Tony and make your way to the gods. When you reach them you smile at Thor who goes quiet and stare at Loki. Loki who feels someone staring at him squints open one eye to look at you.

“What?” He says, trying to put malice behind it but he’s too tired, it comes out more of a sigh than anything. 

“We’re sharing a room ‘cuz Tony doesn’t like you and I’m the newbie.” 

Loki looks at you for a second, closes his eye, sighs, then opens his eyes and stands. He waves a hand indicating you to lead the way. 

When you both get into the room there’s only one bed causing you and Loki to groan out loud.

“Tony, I swear to god.” You mumble.

“You’ll have to kill him before I do.” Loki says softly, flopping on the left side of the bed. 

You don’t even think that you could call down to the lobby and order a cot. Why did that never cross your mind? In hindsight, you’re happy you didn’t think.

Instead, you strip to your panties and bra and climb into the right side of the bed, facing the wall. You do not care that you’re in your lingerie while sharing a bed with Loki, he can deal with it. You’re tired, don’t have your pajamas on hand, and you refuse to sleep in your suit.

When Loki finally gets up, he magics into pjs, and lifts the covers to see you nearly naked causing him to sigh again. When he’s comfortable under the covers he waves a hand into the air and you gasp as soft silk envelopes your body. 

“Thanks.” You whisper into your pillow, nearly asleep.

Loki hums noncommittally and you both knock out.

Two

You both don’t talk about how you woke up facing each other but completely intertwined by the legs and arms the last time you shared a bed. So, when Tony tells you guys that it’s happening again you both give a little resistance. 

���Listen, I shared a room with him last time, I think we should take turns.” 

“You say that like it was atrocious to share a bed with me!” Loki says, you’re not really sure why he’s affronted you were all pretty tired from the battle today but not enough to be delusional.

“So you want to share a bed with me?” You throw at Loki who actually blushes.

“I didn’t say that!”  

“It’s implied.” Tony throws in with a shrug. 

Loki brings a hand up to his face and covers the irritated look that passes his face. 

“Give me the damn card.” You grumble, swiping the card from Tony’s hand. 

Tony gives you one more pitiful look then wanders off. 

You grab Loki by the arm and pull him along. He gets the point and yanks his arm from your hand but still follows you. 

When the door is closed you shut yourself in the bathroom and let Loki do whatever it is he wants to do in the room.

You close the toilet’s lid and sit there with your head in your hands. 

You’re upset about this whole situation because you actually liked sharing a bed with Loki. He was warm but not overly, so you didn’t sweat when you woke up curled into his chest. When you woke up first, the last time you both shared a bed, you had looked at Loki and really appreciated his smooth features. He was a very handsome man when he wasn’t constantly sneering or frowning at you. Although Loki did arm his insults and sarcasm with barbs you enjoyed the bickering with the god. You liked Loki. 

You liked liked Loki.

Fuck.

You only shared a bed once. What the hell is going on?

Maybe all your interactions had lead up to this and sharing the bed was the tip of the iceberg. 

This is all Tony’s fault, you’ll tear him a new one, you think.

You shake your head, look up at the door and sigh. 

Lets get this over with.

You stand and make your way outside of the bathroom to the bed. Loki lays under the covers staring at the ceiling with his hands behind his head.

“Are you finished crying?” Loki asks with animosity.

You chuckle tiredly, “I wasn’t crying, I don’t hate sharing a bed with you, that’s why I spent so much time in there.” You say, starting to pull your clothes off.

When you’re slipping off your pants Loki says, “What?” Without looking at you. 

“I kind of enjoy it, if I’m being honest.” You tell Loki, too tired to hide it anymore. 

When you’re slipping under the covers Loki magics you into the same silk pjs as last time. You give a small thanks that goes unanswered. 

You both lay in the bed, now facing in opposite directions, the lights off. You listen to the shallow breathing from both of you almost ripping through the air. 

Loki makes the first move. You feel him turn around and stare at the back of your head. Then he gets confident and slides across the small space in between you both and brings his chest to your back. He puts one hand under your pillow your head lays on and the other hand slips over your waist. You relax into him and bring your arm to cover his arm over your waist. 

Loki nuzzles into your neck.

“You smell like sweat.” He states after a few moments.

You laugh in shock and kick one of the legs he has intertwined with yours. 

“If you don’t like it you don’t have to cuddle me.”

“I didn’t say I disliked it. It was a mere statement.” Loki says, his breath ghosting over your neck causing you to get chills. 

“Goodnight, asshole.”

Loki chuckles softly but doesn’t answer. 

Three

You both still refuse to talk about what has happened the two times you’ve shared a bed. By the next time you’re having to get a hotel room you both kind of hope you get paired together again. 

Tony comes up to you and looks sheepish.

“Sharing a room again?” You ask with a raised eyebrow.

Loki comes out of nowhere and scares you a bit when you feel his presence at your side but you refrain from jumping.

“Yes, but this time I ordered two beds.” Tony says.

You make yourself not deflate in front of Tony and smile at him instead, taking the card with a small thanks. 

You don’t make a comment when Loki is tense beside you. 

However, when you get to the room you smile wide. 

There’s only one bed. 

You look back at Loki who is looking at you with a smirk. 

Loki raises his hand to magic you into pjs but you hold up a finger. “I need a shower first.” You say touching the sticky residue on your suit with a disgusted face.

Loki nods, magics your favorite silk pajamas into his hands then hands them to you to take into the bathroom. 

You gladly take them and quickly shower. Loki figures he wouldn’t mind some hot water to relieve some of the stress from the battle earlier and takes a shower too. 

When Loki comes out of the shower rubbing at his head with a towel, you gasp. He is in nothing but a towel that hangs dangerously low on his hips. You appreciate his lithe form, his creamy chest, the barely there abs. He even has a small happy trail of black hair that leads under the towel.

“Like what you see?” He snickers at your slacked jaw look.

“Is it not obvious enough?” You throw back at him.

Loki shakes his head and turns around. You see him throw the towel for his hair into the corner of the room then he drops the towel on his waist and bares his ass to you. You appreciate it for a second but turn around and face the wall with red cheeks. 

When Loki climbs into the bed and snuggles into you he chuckles at seeing your still red cheeks. 

“You are acting like an absolute virgin, darling.”

You let out a nervous giggle, “It’s not every day I see a god’s naked body, I apologize.”

Loki hums into your damp hair. “I could remedy that.”

You slap Loki’s hand that is wrapped around your waist. 

“Go to sleep.” You tell the god.

“Good night, darling.” 

Four

This time you’re pretty sure Tony does it because he has noticed Loki has become closer to you. Loki had taken to searching you out when he was bored around the tower and while he didn’t interact with you he appreciated your company of being in the same room. 

Tony hands you the card with a smirk. You squint suspiciously at him but take it. You don’t even have to indicate to Loki to follow you, he just does. 

Ok, so you’re realizing things are a little more obvious than originally thought.

When you reach the room you sit on the edge of the bed and look at your hands that fiddle in your lap. 

“Loki?” You say in a small voice.

Loki lets out a sound of inquiry.

“Are-” You frown as you watch your fingers pick and rub your other fingers. “What’s happening?” You finally ask.

“What do you mean, darling?” Loki says as he slips under the covers and looks at your back while propped on his elbow. 

You turn your body so you can face Loki but stay in your spot on the edge of the bed. 

“What’s going on between us?” You ask, biting your lip.

Loki watches as you bite your lip, his eyes flickering to yours when you let go of it.

“If I’m to be honest...I’m not quite sure.” Loki says slowly. 

You frown a little, your eyes looking at Loki but zoned out. You focus on him again when he clears his throat. Loki isn’t looking at you anymore, his other hand is now on top of the covers, playing with a piece of thread, his eyes following his fingers. “I do know I like you more than anyone else on the team. I do not have a bond with anyone else like I do with you. I can back off from these developing emotions if you would prefer?” Loki finishes a little wary.

You can’t help the pitiful sound that leaves your throat at the question. “No! I don’t mind, really,” You reassure when Loki looks at you a little doubtfully, “I just want to know what to label...us as. But I can live without knowing right now.”

Loki stares at you, an unreadable expression on his face but he quickly nods and lifts the covers, indicating for you to get in. 

You stand and undress and join Loki, this time coming to him. When you’re both comfortable you’re facing each other. Your legs tangle with his, rubbing on his legs. your right arm is curled under the pillow and your head, your left makes  a trail on Loki’s chest, exposed from his unbuttoned shirt. 

Loki’s left hand is curled under his pillow like yours, his right comes up to grab your arm, trails up and intertwines his hand with yours and brings it down to the bed, in between you both. 

“Would you mind if my feelings develop into something stronger?” Loki asks, his cool breath fanning over your face you’re so close to him. 

Your eyes flicker to his but end up looking at his facial features, memorizing them as you think. 

“No, I don’t mind.” You whisper. 

Loki hums, his thumb caressing yours under the covers. “I’m assuming you have some feelings of your own?” 

You give a little nod.

“Say it.” Loki demands in a gentle voice. 

You look into his eyes and smile a little. 

“I have feelings for you, Loki.”

Loki doesn’t quite smile but you can see the mirth in his eyes at the returned affection. 

“Go to sleep, we have a early morning ahead of us.” You tell him but don’t close your eyes, you wait for him to close his first. 

When he doesn’t right away you pout. Loki rolls his eyes with a smile but relaxes and closes his eyes. You follow him and both of you fall into sleep quickly, surrounded by warmth and comfort of someone else being there. 

Five 

This time you know Tony deliberately got you a shared room with one bed because you’re next to him when he orders the rooms. When he tells the concierge a room for two, one bed, you open your mouth. You quickly snap it shut when Tony looks at you with a raised brow, challenging you to challenge his decision. 

Loki comes up and asks what the problem is, seeing as you’re glaring at Tony and Tony is now smirking at you. 

“Nothing.” You snap at Loki, nodding your head to the concierge, telling Tony to continue on without words. 

When Tony hands you your card he grabs you, leans in to whisper in your ear, “If I don’t hear you screaming his name out tonight I’m separating you two. It’s time to make it official.”

You gasp, slap Tony in the chest as he backs off with a nod to Loki, still smirking, and goes to give the rest of the team their cards.

As you and Loki ride up in the elevator Loki questions you. 

“What did Tony tell you?” He asks

“Nothing important, he was just being an ass.” You give up lamely. You can tell Loki is even more curious now but you’re thankful he doesn’t push it.

Instead when you’re in the room you hesitate to undress yourself because your mind is revolving around the whole sex thing Tony brought up.

Loki obviously notices your hesitation because he points it out. “Tony said something that has obviously upset you. If it upsets you it concerns me. Tell me what he said.”

“It’s-” You sigh, bring a hand up to pinch the bridge of your nose and close your eyes. “He made a sex joke and now I can’t help but think of you expecting sex out of this right now.”

Loki doesn’t say anything from his side of the bed. So, you drop your hand and look at him. He stands there with a raised brow but otherwise his face is passive. 

“Look, I want sex with you, in time, but right now the whole subject makes me a little jumpy because I just don’t connect with people this fast and it makes me a little dizzy with how fast I’m starting to like you, like really like you and listen can you please say something so I’ll shut up?” You gasp out. 

Loki chuckles, shaking his head he runs a hand through his hair then looks back up to you and finally speaks. 

“While I do want sex out of this I will not push you, I do not expect it, I would rather wait till you’re confident in your choice because I want you to want me... Not to do something about the situation because someone else thinks you should be doing it.”

As Loki speaks you feel yourself relaxing, enough so to start undressing again. As you’re pulling your shirt off you smile at Loki. 

“You’re perfect, you know that?”

“I’m concerned that you’re calling me perfect for something men should do, and say, without hesitation.”

You laugh a little breathlessly, you’re in the middle of falling for Loki, harder. “Ya, no, men here on Earth can be total d-bags about sex. You’re perfect.”

Loki scoffs, “As long as you don’t compare me to those men then we shall be fine.” He says as you both climb into bed and meet in the middle.

You’re a little too excited about the whole situation and as you reach Loki push into him to kiss him but you end up just hitting your face on his. Loki pulls back with a disgruntled look and you bring a hand up to hold your hurting face.

“Ow.”

Loki blows breath out of his nose and lightly grabs the hand over your face. You look at him as he pulls your hand under the covers and then brings his other hand up to cup your jaw.

“I believe this is what you were trying to do?” Loki asks as he leans in to your face slowly. 

You can’t help but stare at his pink lips. He’s obviously going slow to give you an out but you glance to his eyes and see hesitation which causes you to lean in and capture his lips first, to show you want this, that you’re confident in your choice right now.

When your lips meet sparks don’t fly, you don’t naturally know how to kiss him just how he likes, the kiss is anything but elegant. However, when your lips meet you do melt inside, your body feels weak, your stomach has so many butterflies it makes you jittery, and you’re sure you would love to do this more so you could learn how to please Loki in every way possible. 

You both pull from the kiss and Loki looks at you with adoration. You’re not sure what you look at him with, you’re still a bit dizzy, but it makes him smile as his thumb caresses your cheek. 

“Good?” He whispers over your lips.

“Good.” You say in a small voice.

“Would you mind if I did it again?” Loki asks.

You feel yourself come back from cloud 9 and smirk at him. 

“I wouldn’t be adverse to trying it again.” You say, almost in a sing-song voice. 

Loki rolls his eyes, causing you to snicker, but he takes your lips into his again.

You both don’t get much sleep to say the least. 

+ One

Things aren’t actually official but everybody knows because Loki is touching you a lot more. Not PDA per se, rather they notice that when he walks past you he will let a hand glide over the small of your back. When you stand near each other his pinky will search your hand out and purposely give small caresses. He also never fails to catch you when you fall during missions. He’s hovering a bit. 

It’s obvious. 

But Tony wasn’t lying about that whole sex thing apparently.

That pisses you off but you don’t say anything because it’s not necessarily official.

“You have your own room.” Tony says, giving you your card with nonchalance. 

You quickly find Loki’s eyes, he’s a few feet away talking with Thor but stops talking at your worried look. He makes his way to you and Tony.

“Ah! Perfect, here’s your room card.” Tony exclaims, slamming the card to Loki’s chest a little too aggressive but quickly moves on to the rest of the team.

Loki frowns down at the card in his hands then up to you with a blank face. You look back at him but say nothing. 

Both of you head to the elevator and when you reach your floor first, you don’t move to get out of the elevator. Instead you both stand there in silence staring at your cards. 

Loki is the one to break the silence. “You know, an enemy might know our location and attack at a moments notice. I could stay in your room to better protect you if such an occurrence should happen.”

You let a wide smile break out over your face. You look at Loki. “I think I would feel better if you stayed with me. I don’t want to get hurt, you have a point.”

Loki smiles quickly and presses the button to open the elevator doors that had fallen shut, leaning across your front and as the doors open he looks back and smirks at you, leans back and holds out a hand for you to lead the way. 

You both make your way to your room a little too excited and a little too fast but neither of you will speak up on the matter. 

After tonight, you both decide it’s best to make it official. 

[winter-soldier-vibes]

You Aren’t Somebody? (Bucky x Reader)

Bucky x reader

Word count: 2647

Summary: Bucky knows that the reader has struggled with an eating disorder before, but thought they were doing better. Little does he know, they had just gotten better at hiding it. Until one night, he catches her doing something she had promised she had stopped

Warnings: eating disorder, purging, angst, fluff

Tags @abitgryffindorky @buckys2thicc @thatfangirl42 @buckfics @barnesplums @mardema @stucky-on-spiderman @thundering-barnes

Main Masterlist

A/N: It’s finals week and I am running on energy drinks, reading fanfiction, and longgggg hot showers. But the semester is almost over, and then I have no obligations aside from my hobbies. I see the requests and I’m working on them I promise! I have a list of all the requests that I get, and I am working through them I PROMISE!!! Thank you all for all of your support.

A/N 2: This deals with heavy and dark themes of mental illness. The specific warnings are above. If you feel that in any way reading this will be harmful to your mental health and your journey, PLEASE skip it. I write from my own experience and I know what I would’ve wanted to hear in these situations, and writing/reading fics helps me feel comforted. This fic is based on one experience more specifically than most of my fics, so I apologize if it’s not exactly the same as your experience. This is what I would’ve wanted to hear. If you need or want someone to talk to, vent to, or get advice from, feel free to message me, really. I’m here! <3

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

Bucky was standing in front of you, blocking the door. His piercing blue eyes were locked on you, your own refusing to meet his. 

He wanted answers that you were not ready to give.

“Y/n, please. I just want to talk about this”

“There’s nothing to talk about, Bucky.”

He looked you up and down. Your hair was in a messy bun, a few loose strands sticking to your tear stained cheeks. Your eyes were puffy, and your face was red, voice raspy. He took a deep breath. “You told me you would tell me if it was getting bad again.”

“You promised.”

You closed your eyes. He wasn’t wrong, you had promised. But that was because you never thought you’d see the day when you were purging again. You thought you had gotten over it. You really thought that this time you wouldn’t slip up.

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

You had been struggling with an eating disorder for a while. The cause, you weren’t quite sure. An innocent diet soon turned into a competition for yourself, but the end goal was never there. At first you had thought it was just about the weight and how you looked, but then you found that some of your behavior patterns were tied to your emotional ones. 

Stress was the major trigger, you had come to learn.

Whether it was a mission gone wrong, you getting injured, someone else getting injured, or even just basic social interactions you thought could’ve gone better, you found yourself inclined to comfort yourself with food. 

Until you panicked, which would lead you to the bathroom with music blaring and water running to cover up the noises of your retching. 

You hated it, and every time you told yourself it was the last time. But the more you did it, the more you felt the urge to do it. At first it was triggered by large stressors, but now smaller things could trigger you to want to throw up. You tried to keep it hidden, unaware of the true reasons for why you did it. You were able to help yourself sometimes, it wasn’t worth bringing anyone else into. 

You couldn’t explain it to yourself, so how were you supposed to explain it to anybody?

The best way that you had figured out how to describe it was that whenever you felt a negative emotion, you could soothe it in a physical way with food, especially with all the warm comfort foods that are known. But at the same time, that feeling lasted as long as you could taste, and you would feel guilty as you felt full. When you threw up, it felt like you were also throwing up the negative emotions. 

But when you said it out loud, it didn’t make sense. When people are sick and throwing up it’s one of the most uncomfortable feelings ever. Inducing it hurts sometimes, but it’s almost not as bad. Like you know it’s coming, and you’re in control of what’s happening and you could stop at any point. And there had been times where you could soothe yourself in other ways, and you knew your own physical limits. You knew when you had to stop for your own health.

Until you couldn’t stop.

Which is what led to you fainting on a mission after purging too much. Your electrolytes had bottomed out and you almost had a heart attack at an age no one should. Bucky, your boyfriend who was on the mission with you, had put it together when the first words out of your mouth upon gaining consciousness were “Is this a glucose drip?” while tugging at the IV.

He hadn’t been mad, not exactly. He wasn’t mad at you but he was furious with himself for not noticing, and for making you feel as though you couldn’t tell him. You assured him that you did trust him, but he wished you had come to him before you could’ve gotten yourself, and those on the mission, seriously hurt or killed. 

Nonetheless, you still didn’t know how to talk about it.

“Can you try to tell me about it?” he asked gently, running a hand through your hair. He held you to his chest, you unable to meet his eyes.

“It won’t make any sense,” you had said, tears glazing your eyes.

“I want to understand. Can you help me understand?”

You paused for a moment. “It’s a long story and I don’t know where to start. There’s so much going wrong.” you had said, tears beginning to streak down your face.

“I have all the time for you. And it doesn’t have to make sense, these things rarely do. I’m not here to judge you, I’m here to listen.”

And true to his word, he had. He had listened and held you while you tried to talk about what you could. He didn’t understand everything, he naturally had a ton of questions, but they weren’t for that moment. He had promised to help you the best that he could, and you had promised to try and tell him whenever you felt the urges get too strong. And if you couldn’t, to tell him after.

It was easier to talk to Bucky than anyone else. Not because he was your boyfriend, but because he seemed to understand you more than anyone else could. He had his own share of mental health struggles. Neither of you knew exactly what the other was going through, but you both understood that it was easy to feel alone and guilty even though you couldn’t control it. 

It was rough, but he was never mad. He was sometimes firm, and sometimes you had gotten angry with him. Only to later apologize to him with tears in your eyes. He was never mad with you. He understood that this was something internal. Upon research he had done and conversations he had had with Bruce, he understood that this had nothing to do with him. Some people thought eating disorders were about getting attention when it was one of the furthest things from the truth.

All he could do was love you and be there for you.

And to your surprise, talking about it did help.it took a long time, months, of long and hard conversations, panic attacks, slip ups, and really dark days. But it got to the point where Bucky felt that you were doing better, making an effort to tell you how proud he was and how much he loved you. 

And you were doing better, in a way. But you had been slipping up more recently, and you hadn’t told Bucky. You didn’t know how. After going the longest you’d ever had between slip ups, you found yourself retching over the toilet. You would have gone to Bucky but he had been away on a mission that was extended a few days. You couldn’t interrupt him because your feelings were too much to handle. People needed his help more than you did.

You were going to tell him, but he had been so tired when he had come back. He needed his time to relax, and it wasn’t the right time to tell him. And the next day when he was rested, you felt that it was irrelevant. Any negative feeling you had felt the day before had since past, and you didn’t see the point in bringing it up today. It would worry Bucky, he wouldn’t want to go on missions, and you weren’t going to do that to him. Besides, it was just one time.

Right?

You soon found yourself purging when Bucky wasn’t around. If he had gone out with Steve, if he was on a mission, or if he was down in the gym you found yourself taking more opportunities to give into your urges. It wasn’t nearly as bad as it had been, but you were spiraling. But at this point you had been slipping up so many times, you had been so secretive about it. 

It would kill Bucky inside to know that you were hiding this from him again. He would feel like you didn’t trust him. You trusted him with your life.

You just didn’t want to let him down. Not again, not when he had explicitly told you to come to him and you had been blatantly ignoring that.

You wanted to tell him, you did. But you couldn’t let him being so proud of you be based on a lie.

One day you were hunched over the toilet, legs sahking and tears streaming down your face from exertion. Bucky was away on a mission, so you didn’t even bother with the music or the water. What you hadn’t anticipated was him coming back hours earlier than he should’ve

The mission had gone much more smoothly than anticipated, which everyone was happy about. Bucky was glad he would get a few more hours with you. He had gone up to your shared room and let himself in, surprised to see you weren’t there. But then he heard you coughing from behind a closed bathroom door.

He felt like someone had punched him in the gut. You had been doing so well, what had happened?

He walked over to the door, knocking on it and calling out your name. He heard you muffle a small fuck before he knocked again.

“Y/n please, let me in.”

He heard the toilet flush and the sink turn on, you on the other side washing your face. You could feel the tears from exertion be replaced by ones of shame and embarrassment, biting your lip slightly. What the fuck were you going to tell him? 

When you finally turned off the water, you rubbed your face with a towel, sighing heavily into it. When you took it away, you looked long and hard at the doorknob. 

Bucky sighed on the other side of the door. “Y/n please. I’m not mad. We’ve been here before, I just wanna talk to you.”

You closed your eyes for a moment, taking a breath before you made your expression nuetral and opened the door. 

Bucky’s eyes immediately saddened when he took you in. your face was still red and there were tears in your eyes. You had tried to put up a front, he could tell that too. Sometimes you got angry with him because you didn’t want to be vulnerable. He was prepared because like he said - he’d helped you before.

Before he could say anything you crossed your arms. “You’re home early,” you said coldly.

“Y/n.” 

“How’d the mission go? Well, I assume.” you tried to slip past Bucky but he was blocking the door. 

Bucky took a deep breath. “Yeah, yeah, the mission went well.” He wanted to be gentle with you. “But how are you?”

You shrugged, trying to appear oblivious. “I’m fine,” voice wavering slightly as you looked away.

“Y/n please. You’re not fine. Can you tell me what happened?”

“The same thing that always happens” you said bitterly. “Something stupid comes up, I start feeling like shit about myself and I ignore it until I’m puking it up with everything else, alright? It’s the same story, different time, and now I have you looking at me all hurt just like I was worried about which is why I couldn’t tell you!” you exclaimed, eyes filled with anger and tears. Bucky looked at you as if you had just punched him in the face. He would’ve much preferred that you had.

“Y/n.”

You shook your head, trying to get through the door that he was blocking. “Bucky, just let me through the door, forget it.”

“Y/n just talk to me please, I -”

“JUST LET ME THROUGH THE GODDAMN DOOR.” You yelled, surprising Bucky. It had been a while since you had gotten this angry or defensive. But he stood his ground. Bucky was standing in front of you, blocking the door. His piercing blue eyes were locked on you, your own refusing to meet his. 

He wanted answers that you were not ready to give.

“Y/n, please. I just want to talk about this”

“There’s nothing to talk about, Bucky,” you said, feeling tears threatening to spill over. 

He took a deep breath. “You told me you would tell me if it was getting bad again.”

You closed your eyes and felt a pang in your stomach. “Bucky, I - “

“You promised,” he said, voice cracking.

You shook your head. “Why do I have to talk about this. It’s not like I’m hurting anybody” 

“You’re hurting yourself, y/n.” he said calmly.

You shook your head and narrowed your eyes slightly, tears falling. “That’s different Bucky, you know it is.”

“You aren’t somebody?”

You looked at him for a moment before a sob escaped your body, leaning on the counter for support as you brought a hand to your mouth. Bucky quickly came up behind you and pulled you into him, wrapping his arms around you. You started crying harder, embarrassed and ashamed. 

“I’m sorry Bucky, I didn’t know what else to do, I didn’t know how to tell you, I -”

“Hey it’s okay, it’s alright y/n, I’m here.” Bucky kept whispering reassurances in your ears, rubbing a hand up and down your back. 

After some time passed, you didn’t know how long, you were able to calm down enough to take some shaky breaths, hiding your red face in Bucky’s chest.

“When did this start happening again?” he asked softly

“I don’t know… few weeks at least, not really sure.”

He took a breath, trying to stay calm. A few weeks and he hadn’t suspected anything, and you were alone. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You were on a mission, I couldn’t interrupt that.”

“Why didn’t you tell me when I got back?” he pressed gently.

“You were so tired Bucky - ”

“Y/n.” he said more firmly.

You paused for a moment, knowing he wouldn’t take those answers. If they were truly the reason then you would’ve told him the next day or the day after, as soon as the opportunity came. There was more to why you waited, and Bucky knew that. 

“I didn’t want to disappoint you,” you whispered. 

You heard Bucky sigh. He was angry with himself, for not being approachable to you. All he wanted was to make you feel safe enough to come to him, and to hear that you hadn’t because you thought he had expectations for you crushed him. “Y/n, I told you you could tell me about this. When have I ever been disappointed or angry with you?”

“You haven’t. You were just so proud and I - I didn’t want to ruin that for you. I didn’t want to tell you that you were proud of a lie.”

“Hey, hey look at me.” Hesitantly you looked up to meet his eyes. “None of this was you lying. You put in the hard work day after day, and I told you I was here to support you. But I never did the work for you. You did that. I’m proud of you and I always will be because you’re a fighter. It’s okay to have bad days, it’s okay to slip up. It’s okay to need a little help too, and that’s what I’m here for. A slip up doesn’t erase all the hard work you’ve put in before. I’m proud of you for the progress you’ve made, and of the work you put in. This doesn’t change anything sweetheart.”

He pulled you back into his chest.

“I’ll always be proud of you.”

[shokobuns]

“𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫?”

satoru likes to show off.

PAIRING(S): gojo satoru x f!reader x sukuna ryomen, ex fuck buddy!sukuna ryomen x f!reader, boyfriend!gojo satoru x f!reader

GENRE: smut, college!au, some fluff/humor

WORD COUNT: 2.7k

WARNINGS: smut, threesome (i think), voyeurism, dubcon (for voyeur), masturbation (m) unprotected sex, creampie, overstim, size kink, squirting, mentions of a blowjob, marking, gojo clingy asf in public, mentions of public sex, a lot of praise

“Oh, sorry— Sukuna?”

The strawberry blonde smirks at you and a familiar sense of uneasiness overcomes your body. Your hand shakes slightly, the liquid content making small sloshes that spill over the cup. He notices this first and grabs your wrist, his much larger hand steadying yours. “No first name basis anymore, Princess?”

You look back down at your feet, memories flooding through your mind of the old nickname that spills from his lips. You don’t miss him, you truly don’t, but you do know that he gets a kick out of your own humiliation and that’s what makes you feel nervous. He’s shameless and it’s impossible to stir a reaction of unpleasantness. And he pushes your buttons whenever he can with no effort.

It all reminds you of the time his cock would be stuffed down your throat nearly every night.

You hate remembering those times, simply because they were filled with undeniable pleasure and it was so easy for him to make you feel good. He helped you take your mind off of a certain white haired bastard during a time of conflicting feelings just by plowing you into his mattress — or into the wall of a bathroom — relentlessly, treating you as if you were just a doll. And he filled you to the brim every time, hot and warm, praising your tight little pussy, squeezing your throat while waves of euphoria crashed into you all at once. The memories make you shudder when they flood for just a moment, but a call of your name reminds you why you got the drink in the first place.

“Bunny! Over here!” he raises his hand, slouching and taking up space on the couch. You sigh because it’s definitely a move to get you to sit in his lap.

“Ah, I see. Have fun, Princess.” Sukuna’s hand pats your back, urging you forward to your boyfriend.

You mumble a quiet ‘Thanks’ before taking your spot on Satoru’s thighs, his arms caging in your body while his head rests in the crook of your neck, placing the occasional kiss. His hands keep a firm grip on your thigh and you lean into his touch like usual as he continues his conversation with Suguru. It’s a natural position for the both of you because one thing you learned about Satoru was that he loved to show off.

He loved to leave shameless marks where everyone can see them, loved to grope you in public, loved to hold you tight anytime he had the chance. And you enjoyed every minute, relishing the feeling of your boyfriend making assertions through acts of affection. He’s needy, clingy even, and there was something appealing about the way he would always display it. He takes pride in the fact he can read you like a book, noting small actions that signified big feelings.

So when a certain blonde haired bastard sat down three feet away from the two of you, chatting away about things you don’t even bother to listen to you, of course he notices how you hide your face into his chest slightly, making yourself seem smaller than you usually were. His fingers lace through yours, not without him taking note of how sweaty your palms are, and his thumb brushes over your hand comfortingly. A soft kiss is planted on top of your head mid conversation and Sukuna thinks it’s funny.

It’s funny how no matter times you’ve come apart under him, you still manage to find someone else, and it’s nothing about wanting your heart and your hand marriage, two things that Satoru wouldn’t hesitate to give you. It’s about how he knew that he was one of the best fucks of your life and as egotistical as it is, there’s some curiosity about if your current boyfriend was able to provide the same quality. Before you were Satoru’s love, you were Sukuna’s favorite plaything.

“You okay, Princess?” he asks, no sign of guilt shown on his face or heard in his tone.

“Princess?” Satoru questions, eyebrows raised, “Do you know him, Bunny?”

You sigh, readjusting your position until your arm is sling around his neck and he holds you almost like a baby in his lap. “Yeah. Had a class with him.”

To Sukuna, the situation went from funny to hilarious. So this is all Satoru would know. It’s not like he has a huge problem with your past relationship being undisclosed, in fact, he understands where the hesitancy comes from, but he’d rather watch everything unfold while you try to keep a straight face. It’s pure entertainment for him, but pure embarrassment for you and that’s exactly what amuses him.

“Seems like you two are friends or something, Baby.” He pouts, waiting for an actual answer. You glare at him, a silent plea for him to drop the topic. “Well, yeah. We had to work together on a few assignments, dumbass.”

“Ah, alright,” he makes a mental note to find out what’s bothering you later and continues on with his conversation with the two other men, observing Sukuna’s line of sight. He makes sure to plant extra kisses and light nibbles on the skin of your shoulder from time to time, each one eliciting small whines. Although he knows that the pink blonde wouldn’t care anyways, it’s an extra precaution and another silent assertion. It’s not the first time he’s interacted with Sukuna before and he has a feeling it wouldn’t be the last either.

-

“Bunny?”

You respond by humming into his chest, breathing in the entirety of his scent, you hand resting on the side of his cheek. His arm wrapped around your body protectively, legs tangled together and his body providing you with warmth. One hand strokes your hair as you adjust your head to look directly into his cerulean eyes which never failed to make you sigh. His lips are pursed together, as if he’s thinking of the right words to say, and you wait patiently for him to speak.

“How do you really know him?” he asks softly, “I won’t get mad, I promise.”

You take a deep breath in, an internal debate brewing in your mind, but you ultimately decide that it’s best to not lie to your own boyfriend. Especially if you wanted to marry him one day. “We were fuck buddies.” you mutter, just loud enough for him to barely hear you.

“Oh?” he smirked, his expression of concern replaced by curiosity, “When?”

“Well- uh,” you stumble over your words, the answer on the tip of your tongue. You’re not sure how he’ll react, but you’re already in too deep and you’ve already decided you wouldn’t lie to him. “We ended it months ago. Nothing to worry about it, plus if you know Sukuna, he’s not really the type to get attached, anyways.”

“That’s true,” he agrees, recalling each time he saw him with a new girl on his arm, “But exactly how many months ago?”

“S-Six.”

“Funny, that’s how long we’ve been dating, isn’t it?” he asks, an idea brewing in his mind.

“There was no overlap, I promise-”

“Don’t worry, Bunny. I know you wouldn’t do that,” he pauses, his mind overflowing with questions as he tries to pick out the next one, “How long?”

“A year.”

“Long time, huh?” he comments, “Did you love him?”

“No! I swear, Toru, I was trying to forget you!”

“Me?”

“Yes, you, dumbass! I was in love with you!”

“Aww, my little bunny had a crush on me.” he teased, kissing the crown of your head.

“Shut up!”

“Don’t worry,” his fingers rub circles into your hip reassuringly, “I had a crush on you, too.”

You smile while he readjusts your position until your back is to his chest with his chin resting on top of your head. His fingers interlace with yours, resting near your face. With one final kiss on your head, you’re just about ready to drift off.

“Does he fuck better than me?”

“Satoru!”

“I’m just asking!”

“No, no he doesn’t,” you close your eyes, before pressing your ass harder to his crotch, “You’re the best I’ve ever had.”

“Really?” he grins, bringing your body closer to his.

“Really.”

-

You weren’t lying.

And this is reaffirmed with every little moan that leaves your lips as he leaves kisses down your body. Satoru knows all of your sweet spots, his tongue swiping your bottom lip and entering your wet cavern, wet kisses down your neck, teeth sinking into the skin of your shoulder. His mouth latches on your nipple at the same time he shoves his length into your hole so suddenly. You’re already dripping down the sheets, walls fluttering while his thumb circles over your pearl. His mouth leaves you, your body still trembling from the sensation. “Already coming? I just put it in, Bunny.”

“Yeah,” you breathe out, “Feels s’ good, Toru.”

“Yeah?” he replies, his hands holding your waist as he starts driving his cock into you as if you were a doll. His mouth comes back to your breast, licking the little dark nubs before biting down on the soft flesh. You’re lightheaded while your tight cunny barely adjusts to the stretch, his thick cock making your back arch and your nails sink into his shoulder. Your vision is foggy, barely processing the other man sitting in the corner of Satoru’s bedroom.

One thing you notice is that he’s rough today. Of course, he’s always rough, but you’re sure there’ll be more purple blooming all over your body than usual. His hands squeeze the fat of your hips so hard that they’re already becoming sore, but he fills you up in a way that hits every single spot inside of you. Despite how big he is, your little cunny swallows him whole, sucking him in like a vacuum and he groans into your shoulder at the tight feeling. “So perfect for me, aren’t ya?”

“Cumming, Toru,” you whine out, an intense feeling of pleasure forming in your lower belly.

“Then cum. But I’m not stopping.”

You nod, tears spilling from your eyes and flowing down your face as your walls convulse and flutter around his throbbing cock. You’re staring into pools of blue that gaze back at your trembling body in awe and it all makes you feel like you’re floating. He wasn’t lying and you know this for sure because there’s no time to recover, not when he’s still pounding into your cervix like he has something to prove. Your tits jiggle with every thrust into your quivering hole, the headboard violently banging into the wall. It’s not that long until your second orgasm is crashing into you, Satoru’s fingers playing with your little clit. He really isn’t going to stop any time soon.

And finally, even though your eyesight is hazy, you make out the mysterious man in the corner of the room.

Sukuna.

He’s looking at you with dilated pupils, the pink tip of his cock weeping with precum, swiping it with every pump. His hips come up to meet his hand as he focuses on how your tiny pussy takes in Satoru’s cock over and over again. It’s the lewd sobs and squelches that fill up the air of the room and the slick staining the bed that cause him to groan involuntarily. He’s shameless, fucking his fist at the sight of you spread out and your boyfriend is right there. No wonder he’s fucking you like he has something to prove.

You told him that he was the best and, of course, he had to prove it. But not to you.

It doesn’t matter because you love the way he’s fucking you right now. There’s no time for you to rest, only Satoru rhythmically pistoning his cock into your creaming cunny while Sukuna watches closely, observing how your clenching hole takes him in. After using his mouth to litter your breasts with purple bruises, he pins your knees to your chest and his cock somehow reaches even deeper than before. His thrusts become faster and faster, more and more erratic while the sudden change in position makes you squeak. “Bet you love being treated like a fucking doll, huh, Bunny?”

“M-Mhm,” you squeal, unable to form a proper answer, “love it, s’much!”

Skin slaps against skin, another knot forming in your belly. Your clit is pinched between his fingers, making you sob out his name. His lips come down to kiss your open mouth while holding your body flush against him as your cunt gushes and squirts all over his stomach and your thighs. Your walls clamp down at the same time he stills, pumping his hot seed as far into you as he can. You’re milking him for all he’s worth and he lets out soft praises that make you flustered. The sticky mess leaks all over when he pulls out, but he doesn’t leave to get a towel like usual because he’s noticed that the man in the corner of the room is still hard despite the mess on his shirt.

“Bunny?”

“Hmm?” you respond, still taking deep breaths from the intense sex you had just seconds before.

“What do you think of giving your old fuck buddy a ride?”

You purse your lips. For one, you have Satoru’s permission, but one thing about Sukuna’s dick was that it was huge, bigger than your current boyfriend, and you’re not sure if you’d be able to take it again. But there’s a feeling of nostalgia that fills your chest seeing it all over again and you remember all the nights he’s given you before.

“What d’ya say, Princess?”

The old nickname prompts you to walk over, Satoru’s cum still dripping down your inner thigh, and straddle Sukuna’s lap. You steady yourself by holding onto his shoulder, slowly sinking your ruined pussy onto the tip and going down until you’re halfway through his cock. But he’s impatient, immediately gripping your hips and thrusting upwards, forcing you to take the entirety of his length. The stretch burns, it hurts like a bitch, but it only makes the experience even more thrilling.

Your head is thrown back and Satoru comes from behind, kissing your neck reassuringly while Sukuna takes control, fucking your boyfriend’s cum back into your womb. As two large hands guide you up and down his cock, your overstimulated cunny creams around him, tightening in a way that makes it harder for him to move. Satoru’s hands from from behind to play with your tits and it’s all so much, the different sensations coming together while you’re helpless, unable to differentiate who’s who. “You’re always so fucking tight, Princess,” he praises, groaning out as your walls clamp down. “Even after getting fucked by your little boyfriend, huh?”

Your pussy adjusts to his size just like before, a mix of your slick and Satoru’s leftover cum dribbling down Sukuna’s balls. He drives his cock into you with brute force, inconsiderate of the fact you’ve already been treated like a ragdoll. With one more brutal thrust, you’re melting, overcome by a feeling of pure bliss. He spills into you, the warm feeling in your womb making your head dizzy. “Good job, Princess.” he smirks as Satoru carries you off his lap bridal style and sets you gently onto his bed.

You’re just about ready to drift off, unable to make out the conversation of the two men in the room. Once Sukuna leaves with a wave and a ‘Thanks, Princess” you use the last of your energy to pull Satoru back on the bed and hold onto him like a clingy child. “What was that about?”

“Wanted to show that cocky bastard that I was the best.”

You laugh before pressing your lips to his cheek and appreciatively gazing at his pretty face. “But you are the best.”

“I know.” he smirks, returning the favor by bringing you into a wet kiss, “Round two? With just the two of us?”

“It’s round three for me, dumbass.”

“The offer still stands.”

“Yeah, sure. Why not?”

[qyllenhaal]

Good Wives Club [2]

Lee Bodecker x Reader. 3rd POV. Word Count: 4.2k.

Spin-off to American Pie

Chapter One || Chapter Three

Summary: It's been more than a year since she's escaped the ghost of her past but life is never fair to a girl like her. Lee doesn't care that she has a husband, a nice house, and sugary fake friends, he wants what's rightfully his.

Warnings (series): Cheating, smut, violence, housewife kink, period-typical misogyny, age gap (about a ten year difference), manipulation, dark themes all around.

A/N: If anyone wants to be added to future tag list just let me know!

Y/n woke up at 5am with a dry mouth and her head spinning. Her night has been plagued with restlessness and she couldn't stay still. When she did fall asleep, it was for small periods of time. Each time she woke up she was not aware of where she was for the first five seconds, panic almost setting in before she registered the sound of her husband snoring.

The end of her irregular sleep cycle ended because she saw the hallway light was on. She sighed when realized it must be time for her husband to get ready for work. She virtually got no sleep and she'll probably be tired for the rest of the day.

She gets up from their creaky bed and starts walking down the hallway. It takes a while for her eyes to adjust to the brightness as she slowly plods down the hallway. She follows the light to the bathroom where she can hear her husband getting ready for work. On the days he goes in this early Y/n is relieved that she doesn't have to get up and cook breakfast for him.

The door is cracked but she opens it to find him inside. She situates herself in the doorway, watching him shave his face through the mirror.

"Good morning," he spoke with a scratchy voice. Even though Y/n didn't marry Llewellyn for love, she's still attracted to him and likes his company most of the time. She feels an ache inside of her that wants him to take her, but after running into Lee last night she's afraid she won't be able to get Lee's face out of her mind while beneath her husband.

"Good morning. Going in early?"

"Yep. Dad wants to do inventory today since he put it off last week."

"Oh okay," she accepts quietly, ready to leave her husband alone so he can get ready in peace.

However he asks her a surprising question, "hey, did you enjoy last night?"

"Uh, it was fine I guess. Did you?" Her hope is that he at least enjoyed himself somewhat.

"You know I don't like that super fancy stuff like that, but I have to eat crow; it wasn't all that bad and Bodecker's not as bad as I thought. He's kind of a funny guy. I still think he's not as hard on crime like everyone claims he is, but personally, he's not that bad. Florence was nice too. She invited us to dinner on Wednesday night, apparently that's the only night Lee has off. I told her we'd be able to join them."

The turn of events was shocking. Y/n couldn't believe her ears and she thought maybe she indeed was still asleep. Lou was not fond of many people and his only "friends" were his two brothers so him warming up to Lee and Florence left her speechless. So speechless that she didn't register the fact that he accepted a dinner invite for them.

"What?"

"What do you mean ‘what’? You dragged me to that dinner last night and wanted me to be nice, and now you're confused when I do just that?"

"I-I'm not confused...just shocked," she admits truthfully, "I can't believe you want to go to someone’s house who isn't your mother house for dinner —are you sure you want to go?"

"We're going Y/n."

His tone of voice indicates that the conversation is done and over with and the decision has been made. Y/n didn't even get to contest his decision but Lou can tell when Y/n is in a defiant mood. Her folding her arms and walking away was confirmation for him. She stalks her way back to the bedroom where she takes to hiding under the covers.

Lee and Lou under the same roof — it makes her stomach churn just to think about it. They're wildly different from each other but the thing she hates about them is what they have in common.

All she can hope is that this nightmare ends and she wakes back up to a life without Lee's ghost lingering around.

-

She decided to go with a floral dress again. She really wanted to take out the checkerboard dress that made her legs look good and showed off her arms, but Lou would have made her change before she had the chance to step out of the house. The floral print is dizzying, but it's the kind of dress that Lou likes to see her wear.

It's just a small dinner at the Bodecker's house but Y/n opts for kitten heels instead of sensible flats. She feels obligated to look her best despite there being less people to dress for. She's never been alone with Florence save for that day at the grocery store. Florence is always dressed to the 10's and Y/n needs to look just as good, if not better. She claims to hate Lee, but it would be so satisfying if she caught Lee ogling her breasts.

"Are you ready?"

Y/n thought Lou was too dressed up for a home dinner of four. He wore a pinstriped suit and those nice leather shoes he bought himself around the holidays.

"As ready as I'll ever be," she sighs in an attempt to let off some steam.

It was a shorter drive than Y/n expected. Florence hadn't disclosed where she lived before, but Brewer Heights wasn't that for them to live at a distance. The sun was nearly dipped over the horizon and the remaining light that hits their house makes it look like a model home. Everything little aspect and detail Y/n was going to compare herself too. She lives in a nice house, but Florence lives in a nicer house. It tears her up knowing she has the ultimate upper hand over Florence in the form of her own husband and she can't even act upon it. She would royally fuck up her life and their lives too if she decide to let her jealousy get the best of her.

As she walks up their stairs as another man's wife, she accepts that she is jealous. She's always been jealous of Florence even when she didn't know her name. What made her so worthy of all of these things? Lee used to act like he hates the woman so she must be a bitch behind closed doors. It wouldn't be surprising if she is because most people in this town will smile in your face and then gossip about you a minute later.

Lou knocks on the door and only a second later Florence is opening the door with a big smile on her face and Lee right next to her. He wore his police uniform without the jacket while Florence looked like a Lilly Pulitzer catalog girl.

It only took one millisecond of their eyes locking together for Y/n to feel the electricity between her and Lee. She drags her eyes away from his, but she can bet that he has a smirk on her face. He always liked to see her squirm; in a good and bad way.

"Y/n, Llewellyn! I'm so glad you could make it! Why don't you come on in," Florence steps to the side, nudging Lee over with her, to make way for Y/n and her husband.

Her eyes scan over every inch of their house. It's warm, cozy, and oddly comforting. Everything little thing was in its place; perfectly dusted and polished. Y/n is sure that Lee had no hand in decorating this place, it screams Florence through and through.

"Dinner is almost ready. I started the scalloped potatoes a little too late, but it should be done soon! Y/n, do you want to help me set the table?"

Y/n didn't want to leave her husband alone with Lee, but she also didn't want to be in the room with just them. She nods at Florence and follows behind her to their kitchen.

The house smells like Lou's parent's house on holidays. Y/n's stomach rumbles and she doesn't realize how hungry she was. She despises herself for wanting Florence's cooking, but she barely ate today because of how nervous she was.

"I already laid out the place mates, you can place the plates and silverware."

Y/n picks up the expensive dining ware that Florence points towards. She wonders if Florence cooks like this all the time, even when Lee works well into the night.

The walls of their dining room have an awful floral pattern. Y/n is beginning to become sick at the sight of anything that pertains to flowers. The cedar table is perfect for accommodating guests and Y/n wonders how many dinner parties they had in this room. Florence seems to put a lot of stock into being a good hostess. Y/n herself has yet to throw a dinner party at her home, but setting the plates on someone else's dining room table feels like practice. She silently imagines her house filled with Lou's family as she cooks dinner for them.

Florence enters the room and starts placing the dishes in the middle of the table. Her presence takes Y/n out of her fantasy, and when she sees how Florence made a 3-course-meal she feels worse.

"Does the food look good? I tried some new recipes from Julia Child's cookbook to try to impress you and Llewellyn," she admits, "I wasn't sure what you two would like, but Lee loves when I make those recipes from Julia Child and I bet Llewellyn would love it too! I could lend you the book some time!"

"Of course. I love her work!" Y/n lies straight through her teeth. She has no clue who the hell Julia Child is.

Florence grabs one last thing before calling the husbands into the dining room. She places one beer on the coasters designated for Lee and Lou. Lou has never been much of a drinker, but she knows that Lee can knock down a few beers in one sitting. He might be on his best behavior tonight in front of his wife and company.

"Dinner's ready!" Florence called out.

Y/n took her seat on the right side of the table and Florence sat opposite of her. Their husbands come walking in laughing as if they were young boys sneaking back into the house during a family get together. Y/n doesn't like it; she doesn't like it at all. They look too cheery with each other and she knows that Lee is doing it on purpose — she can see it in his eyes when he quickly glances at her. He takes pride in making her uncomfortable. Y/n wishes she had that same affect on him to scare him off a bit, but no matter how chummy she gets with Florence, Lee looks unbothered.

Florence stands up from her seat as if she's presenting the food on the table to an audience. Everything is placed perfectly with the main dish being the middle of the smaller plates.

"This looks great honey, you made a whole feast," Lee walked up to Florence's side and kissed on the cheek. Y/n's eyes are trained on his hand snaking around her waist and giving her a light squeeze before letting go. When she pulls her eyes away from his hands, she sees that Florence almost looks shocked at her husband's affection; Lee is definitely putting on a show for Y/n and it's a damn good one.

Lee sits opposite of Lou and the first thing he does is open his beer. The food isn't even on plates anymore and he's drinking.

"I hope you like Schmidt's, Llewellyn. Lee loves it so it's all we have in the house."

"I'm not one to drink beer often, but I'll try it. And call me Lou, Florence."

Lou was acting out of his normal character. Him only interacting with his family and Y/n left him a bit awkward in the presence of others, but around Florence and Lee he seems to be much...warmer. If Lee was someone else then Y/n would be over the moon, but because it's him she can't even force herself to even look happy about it.

Y/n takes note of how Florence places portions of food on Lee's plate. They were small portions too. She was always strict about what he ate and how much he drank. She's surprised Florence is letting him drink tonight, but she must be trying to look nicer in front of guests.

Y/n was not as controlling as Florence. She always let Lou fix his plate to his liking. She thought it made her a good wife for letting her husband make his own decisions. But Y/n felt a tap on her shoulder after she finished making her own plate. He looked down at his empty plate before looking back at her and nodded towards the food.

"Y/n," he tries to whisper but his tone is rather harsh.

"What?" She whispers back in true confusion.

"My plate."

He looked at her as if she was crazy, as if it was a common occurrence for her to fix his plate. She starts to scramble to save herself from further embarrassment, the sound of silverware against plates so loud. She can feel the stares coming from the other side of the table but she doesn't dare look up.

Her skin began to grow hot. Her husband had embarrassed her in front of Lee and Florence. The worst part was when Florence tried to change the subject to something lighthearted to pull the attention off of Y/n. She felt small and useless. Lou never expected her to fix his plate, but he looked at her as if she was crazy for not doing so. She didn't want to spend dinner almost in tears. This changed behavior in her husband is giving her whiplash and making her dizzy.

"So, Y/n, did you enjoy the other night?"

"It was really nice Florence," she replies sheepishly.

"Susie and I put so much work into planning it. You should join us next time! We're going to start working on the fundraising events for Lee's next campaign-"

"Let's not talk about that tonight Florence," Lee interrupts. It was a moment that would've left Y/n embarrassed if she was in Florence's shoes but Florence was much better at masking her emotions. Only for a split second can Y/n see Florence flinch at his interjection before she just smiles.

"Sorry Lee, you know how excited I get about those things," she masks her apology in a cheery voice.

Dinner basically became a probe of Y/n and Lou's relationship. Florence wanted to know how they met, when they got married, how long they had been together, and what their future plans together were. Y/n let Lou answer the last question by herself because she genuinely didn't know what their future plans were. Lou usually wakes up and decides what major life change they're going to undertake, that's what happened when he decided to move to Brewer Heights.

When the topic of work came up, Y/n thought the coast was clear. Lou talked extensively about the work he does with his father and what his plan is for the next five years regarding the business.

"Once my father retires I'll have to hire someone to do his job. I didn’t go study in school after high school so I can't take over his position, even though it would make things easier."

"I'm sure you can find someone. I know it's rare for someone to leave the city and come to this little town, but Brewer Heights is always a nice incentive!"

"It is nice here," Lou agrees, "and it's quiet. We were in Meade before which is okay-"

"But, it's nothing like Brewer Heights," Florence interjects. "So, Y/n, what did you do before meeting Lou?"

Lee had not looked her way since the plate-fixing incident but his eyes were sure on her now. If his mouth wasn't stuffed with food he'd be grinning from ear to ear waiting for her answer. He knows she's not a good liar, but she's going to have to come up with something.

"I helped my mom with her business. She used to sell fruit preserves out of the house before she passed."

It wasn't a complete lie. She did help her mother label her jars, but that became less frequent when her hours picked up at Tecumseh. Her parents didn't know about her job either; she told them she was a waitress and it was a safe lie seeing as they didn't go out to diners.

"I'm sorry for your loss, I'm sure she was a lovely woman if she raised such a lovely daughter! Have you ever thought of continuing her business?"

"Not really. It was pretty small. I still make the preserves sometimes for Lou and I."

"If you wouldn't mind, would you be interested in making some for us one day? You don't have to if you don't want to, but it's just so hard to find any good fruit preserves around town." Florence's social habits were very transparent once you were around her for long; she tends to make it impossible for people to say no to her by making them feel bad about even possibly saying no.

"I'd love to Florence. I have fresh peaches at home and I can make peach preserves."

"Oh I'd love that so much," she fawns, "a jar for me and a jar for Lee! He loves his sweets."

"I'm not too big on peaches, Flo. You know I like cherries more."

"You always have," she leans into him and pats him on the chest before straightening up again.

The audacity of Lee is astounding, however not only is he a cop, he's the sheriff. It's such a cowardly move to pick at Y/n when she can't react, but what someone would call cowardly, he'd call fun. She looks like she wants to disappear from her spot and it scratches an itch for him. He missed seeing her get flustered and if he'd known that it would be much more enjoyable to taunt her while his wife was around, he would have found a reason a long time ago to bring her around.

And as if the night couldn't be more humiliating for her, Lou finished his plate before anyone else. He devoured the food on his plate, like a starved man. Y/n felt embarrassed when her husband went for seconds. He never eats this much at home, even when she makes his favorite meals. It makes her want to reach across the dinner table and smack Florence in the face. She hates her; she hates that she has to smile in her face and be friends with her. It's her own fault for continuing this "friendship" with Florence, but her rage makes her blind to her own faults.

She could ruin Florence's life with one sentence: "I've been fucking your husband for years." She'd cause a scene but it would be so gratifying.

Instead she just shuts her mouth and lets dinner continue without anymore incidents.

-

Y/n thought it would show she was grateful for dinner if she helped Florence with the dishes. She was glad to accept Y/n's help and the two spent their time in the kitchen while Lee and Lou sat on the back porch. With Lee's influence, Lou took another drink out back with him. Y/n wondered what they had to talk about, but she would truly not like to know.

"Your wife cooks like that every night, sheriff?"

"Enough with the title. And she cooks every night, but she went a little overboard since she was happy with having guests," he tells him. If it was anybody else, Lee would just answer the questions and not have any for himself. However, he really wants to know what Y/n has been up to since she's adopted this new image. "How about Y/n? Does she cook for you like that?"

"Not at all. She tries, but she's not the good of a cook," he brings the alcohol up to his lips before pulling away and sighing, "she tries but it's just not her best."

"Her mother didn't teach her how to cook?"

"I don't know much about her family. Her mother was dead when I met her and her father doesn't seem to be doing so well. They're from the same area as my folks but moved when they had Y/n. Maybe she was just too spoiled considering she's an only child."

Y/n's past was a mystery to Lee too, but he's surprised to learn she hasn't opened up to her husband. All he knows is that whether it was her home life or not, something had messed her up and it was almost made worse by her time at Tecumseh. He isn't sure how she made it out, but so much of her old life still bleeds through.

"You know I thought I was getting a good girl. One that would clean and have dinner ready when I get home," Lou continued.

Lee wanted to laugh in his face. Lou is proof that you can come from a smart family and still be dumb as rocks. How could he not know what type of girl Y/n was when he first laid eyes on her? She'd dress just like his sister Sandy; shorts that suffered from mistreatment over the years and a sleeveless blouse that was always stained. He's sure her hair was mussed up that day too. Many people would mistake her for a whore (which many people did see her as one even though she didn't outright sell her body to anyone).

"It can't be that bad," Lee tried to vouch for his former lover. Even he can name some good qualities about her; they just don't include any wifely qualities.

"It's not, but things could be better. Anytime I tell her to shape-up she gets this timid look on her face and flinches a little bit. I try to be nice and gentle but I'm losing my patience with her. I’m not looking to leave her, but what’s the point of marrying a woman who can’t do anything? She won’t even talk to me about having kids — was Florence ever like this?”

“No. Her family is from here so she’s been primed to be a housewife. But I will say it’s not all that fun havin’ a doting wife…she’s overbearing at times and I can never unwind with her around. She’s always on my ass about somethin’.”

Lee felt the need to vouch for Y/n. Anytime he would go to Tecumseh, she would accompany out back or get into his cruiser whenever he told her to. All the gritty things he dealt with at work, everything he kept inside, he dumped it on her. Florence would never sit there to listen to his grievances. Lee would never admit it, but he was vulnerable around Y/n, he knew that she would always be there to listen and he attached himself to that. In the beginning she wasn’t willingly listening to his problems but by the end she was. She took care of him when he was too drunk to go home, or she would let him take his stress and frustration out on her body. However, it doesn’t seem as if Lou is budging; his mind is made up.

“I work long hours. My father is putting more responsibilities on me. I put Y/n in that nice home, the least she could do is not serve me burnt food. Hangin’ around Florence and that Susie woman should have at least influenced her or something,” he continued to complain.

Florence was the last person that would be able to influence a girl like Y/n. Lee didn't know why his wife was seemingly grooming that girl. If anything it was just another person for her to control since Lee started telling her to knock it off. The only time she can get away with controlling her husband is if they're in the company of others where Lee has to be on his best behavior.

Y/n is not the type to be influenced by another woman. The only woman she held in high regard was her mother. Y/n listens to male authority. She listens to a man that will rough her up a little bit but then be sweet on her afterwards. She’s a little fucked up and jaded from her former “profession.” Lee knows this, but not Lou. He seems to know nothing of her past and Lee isn’t going to snitch on her.

“I can talk to Florence and see if she can do something. I know she likes taking people under her wing and shit. She seems to really like Y/n too.”

“I’d greatly appreciate that Lee. I know I sound like I’m hard on her, but I do love her. It’s hard for me to show when she just doesn’t put any effort in.”

"Don't worry. I'll talk to Florence — I'll make everything right."

[notkageyamasprincess]

glad you came | kageyama tobio x reader

request: big brother!kegeyama walking in on the reader touching themselves .. 😁

notes: a huge thank you to jodie (@keijidearest​ ) for being my beta, a hundred kisses fo you, muah muah <33

characters: nii-chan!kageyama tobio x reader

genre/warnings: smut, incest, slight voyeurism, mention of dacryphilia, mutual masturbation, corruption kink, slight degradation, breeding kink

words: 2.2k

summary: tobio-nii finally finds out that his adorable little sister feels the same way

As always, your parents weren’t at home—that much was expected. But today, even Tobio would be out until late. You couldn’t help the sinking feeling in your chest when you walked into your empty husk of a house. It was so lonely ever since your older brother started spending more time on campus, and you had no choice but to comfort yourself the only way you knew how.

The bedroom door didn’t quite close all the way behind you, but you disregarded it, knowing nobody would be home to disrupt you anyways. You flopped onto the bed, and wiggled out of your bottoms, one hand creeping beneath your waistband while the other clutched your phone to browse raunchy sites. Although you took in the obscene videos, racy comics, and filthy erotica, your mind drifted to Tobio, wishing that he’d take the place of the men in all those scenarios, comforting you in person rather than leaving you alone at your time of need. Settling into your blankets, you began taking care of the ache in your core, back arching off the mattress as you slowly worked yourself up to your high. The room gradually filled up with the sounds of your heavy breathing, slick noises of your arousal, and the familiar creak of the bed as you shifted around.

Unbeknownst to you, Tobio was on the other side of the wall, quietly taking care of his own needs, stroking his length to match your rhythm. He seriously lucked out today; he didn’t think he would ever have the opportunity to catch you at a vulnerable moment like this, unsuspectingly letting out your sweet moans for him to hear. When practice got cancelled, he went straight home and took a nap, only to wake up to the sounds of your self-pleasuring. He didn’t mean to eavesdrop on his precious little sister, really. Yet, how could he let this chance pass him by?

As he gripped his cock, your brother felt his balls tighten much quicker than usual. He wasn’t expecting his innocent sister to sound so...so lewd. His orgasm was coaxed on by how slutty you sounded as you moaned, how sopping wet he reckoned you were just through the noise of you fucking yourself. Before long, he felt himself shudder as he shot out his load. Never had he cum so early, the embarrassment enveloping him as he realized what had had him so worked up to begin with. Your soft whines remained in the background as Tobio slumped down and began cleaning himself off.

As his post-orgasmic bliss dissipated, a sense of guilt and disgust grew within him, as though he had violated you himself. He laid an arm over his eyes and exhaled deeply.

A few more seconds passed, and he shamefully emerged from his room, intending to wash up in the bathroom when something made him stop in his tracks.

“N-nii-chan…feels good!”

Erotic fantasies of your brother fuelled your lust while you touched yourself. Instead of your own hands, you imagined that it was his large palms caressing your breasts, and his long fingers stretching you out, loosening your entrance for his thick cock. Your gasps and whimpers grew louder as you gave in to the pleasure, but you didn’t care, chanting your brother’s name as you came.

Lost in a euphoric trance, your eyes remained squeezed shut, allowing him to slip into your room unnoticed.. The moment his eyes adjusted to the dim lighting, he was captivated by the sight of your limp form splayed out on the bed. His ravenous gaze traveled across the expanses of exposed skin, pausing briefly on the rise and fall of your chest and your spasming pussy. He swallowed before revealing his presence.

“____, was that…my name?”

Upon hearing his voice, your eyes snapped open, and you yelped. Panic welled up inside you as you sprang up and hastily covered yourself.

Thoughts of possible consequences raced through your mind. No more hair ruffles, no more head pats, no more words of praise. He’d no longer swing by your school to treat you to lunch when he was between classes. You could definitely say goodbye to him picking you up from the bus stop after dark.

“Tobio-nii! I- how long have you been standing there?”

Now you’d gone and done it. He must be repulsed by you. No one should have been in the house, nobody should have been there to catch you, so how was this happening?

“Not important. I’d rather talk about how you were just masturbating while thinking about me.”

Blood rushed to his dick as the scene he walked in on replayed in his head, and your cute noises echoed in his mind. His shock quickly shifted into frustration: frustration that he had to conceal his possessiveness when you gave your attention to another boy, frustration that he had to control his urges when you pranced around the house in your ratty drawstring shorts, or that he had to avert his eyes when your nipples poked out from your thin sleepshirt.

Frustration that he had to live through hell hiding his feelings for you when his dear sister was exactly the same way.

“You mean to tell me,” he started, taking calculated steps towards you, “That this entire time we could have been taking care of each other? The fuck did I jerk off in the shower for?”

Huh? You were stunned and relieved, but there was no time for you to hold back your tears. Unable to process what he said, you peered up at him with watery eyes.

Thinking that he frightened you by raising his voice, his eyes widened in alarm. He gathered you into his arms and stroked the back of your head. “Whoa, hey, hey, don’t cry, angel. I didn’t mean to get angry with you; I got too excited back there.”

“No, that’s not it. I-I thought you would hate me, and I didn’t know what to do.”

“I could never hate you, ____. You’re so precious to me that I couldn’t stand the thought of anyone else putting their hands on you where mine should be.”

Pulling back, you looked into his eyes for confirmation. “Really? Because I always hated your girlfriends for stealing my place.”

“You’re so cute, but I promise you have nothing to worry about at all. I didn’t want them like I wanted you.” You felt him guide your hands to his groin, where his dick was nearly popping out from his boxers. “Do you feel that? Feel how hard I am? You made me this way.”

Your heart swelled with pride knowing that he loved you more than he did any of those whores, and seeing him so worked up, all for you brought back the familiar tingle between your legs that only your Nii-chan knew how to soothe. Freeing him from his pants, you watched in wonder as his cock stood at attention, leaking precum from the tip. Tobio’s breathing grew heavier from your touch.

“____? Do you think you could do Nii-chan a favour?” His ears reddened in mortification.  Despite the fact that he had cum earlier, all he wanted to do was shove his cock into you and fuck you silly. “I got turned on when you were crying,” he groaned and covered his face. “Sorry, I know I shouldn’t react that way, but you’re just so cute.”

On the contrary, you were really happy that he found you so endearing.. “Don’t be sorry, Tobio-nii,” you reassured, shaking your head. “Just tell me what I need to do.”

Tobio kneeled at the foot of your bed and gripped his length, grateful that you were willing to help him out. “Could you remove the blankets and show me your pretty body?”

The idea of baring yourself to him made you flustered. But if it was your brother, asking you so politely for help, you wouldn’t mind displaying your most vulnerable parts. Glancing at his hopeful expression, you peeled back the covers.

“So good, baby. Now open your legs and touch yourself for me.”

Again, you bashfully complied, spreading yourself and angling your hips to give him a better view. The way he watched you made you searing hot; he gazed at you with lust blown pupils, eyeing you like a starved wolf as he fisted his cock.

You were fixated on his dick, curiously observing the rosy colour of the tip, the slender shaft, the slight curvature upwards, and the vein running down the middle. It was the first time you’d seen one. Heat pooled in your centre when you thought about taking him in your mouth.

“Nii-chan? Can I try sucking you off?”

“What?” he panted. “You don’t—ah, fuck—have to. I can’t make you do that.”

Leaning forward on your hands, you stared at him in earnest. “I want to.”

His face scrunched up as he weighed his options, but a quick glance at your glossy plump lips was all he needed to succumb.

After he agreed, you held him gently, noting how your hand barely wrapped around the girth of it, and how it felt so much thicker and heavier than it looked.Experimentally, you eagerly licked the sides, lapping at the precum that dribbled down his length, then you wrapped your lips around him. Paying close attention to his instructions, you gingerly massaged his balls and inched him further down your throat. “Yes, yes just like that. Now swallow.”

He tugged at your hair, pushing himself deeper, alternating between looking down at you, and closing his eyes in ecstasy. Your jaw was sore, and your throat was starting to burn, but you couldn’t help but moan at the disheveled state he was reduced to. Your cunt clenched around nothing, pulsating with desire.

Tobio’s eyebrows knitted together, loving the sight of you gagging on his dick. He’d always dreamed of defiling you like this; he felt so dirty, but so good.

“Shit, you’re making your Tobio-nii feel so amazing. I’m gonna cum soon.”

You desperately longed for him to cum on your tongue, but even more than that, you wanted him to alleviate your aching core, so you reluctantly pulled your lips off of him. “Mm, wait! Not yet.” You spread your lower lips apart, looking at him with need. “Please. In here.”

Tobio regarded your fucked out expression and your dripping hole, deciding to satisfy you against his better judgement. His cute sister was begging so sweetly for him, so how could he deny your request? Besides, he wanted it just as badly.

“Yeah? You’re gonna give your virginity to Nii-chan? Gonna let your big brother fuck his seed deep into your slutty pussy?”

His filthy words caused you to shiver, yet, he was soothing and gentle as he slipped his cock inside, pushing the head in little by little, pausing until you were ready for more. He moved only the tip back and forth, parting your opening, coating his dick with your juices.

The stretch hurt a little as he inched in deeper, but there was no one other than your beloved Nii-chan you’d rather lose your virginity to. You knew he respected you enough that you could even call it off there, and he would stop without any questions. There was no doubt that he would treat you better than anyone else you could’ve had your first time with.

When you finally nodded to him, he eased in the rest of his length, and he sucked in a breath when your cunt squelched, accepting him in hungrily. He waited a few more seconds before thrusting slowly. Once you gave him the okay, he increased the pace steadily until he was slamming his cock in and out.

His cock reached places inside you that you were never able to reach with your fingers, causing your eyes to roll to the back of your head. You felt so full, so complete.

Tobio nearly spilled into you when he directed his gaze to the spot where the two of you were connected. Your cunt squeezed him like it didn’t want him to pull out and painted him in a creamy white substance. He was addicted to seeing you losing yourself on his dick as he split you open.

Pressing on the back of your thighs, he pushed you deeper into the mattress and shoved his length even deeper. Your brother enjoyed the feeling of corrupting you, wiping you clean of every man that came before him and ruining you for every man that would come after him. That is, if you would ever want another man after he’d had his way with you.

Feeling your pussy tighten, he slid a hand between your bodies and grinded the heel of his palm against your nub, forcing an orgasm out of you, and spurted his viscous cum inside. He pumped his cock a few more times before pulling out, admiring his handiwork when his cum leaked out from your convulsing hole. Rather than let it drip onto the sheets, he lifted your pelvis to place a pillow underneath, then collected his release with his fingers, only to push it deep inside you again. Contently, he plugged you back up with his cock, brushed some hair out of your face, and pecked you tenderly on the forehead.

You laid there, basking in each other’s warmth, filling the void in each other’s heart.

Tobio nosed the crook of your neck, breathing in deeply. “Mine.”

a/n: well, well, well... tobio-nii makes a comeback

[bestiesenpai]

Taker pt2 - Sukuna

Ah, the smell of freshly baked step-brother kink in the morning -3- the flavor is so good, I like to have it with my morning tea. Femme reader and this is the second and final part for this series(?)

part one

Content warnings: Sukuna big meanie, noncon+dubcon, degradation, a smol bit of praise!, spanking, choking(brief), pseudoincest(duh)

The incident you had with Sukuna was burned into your brain forever. You couldn’t even pass the couch anymore, gaze pointedly turned away from it whenever you were near. Sitting on it with your family was too much, especially when your mother sat in the seat Sukuna had been when he had his cock buried into you.

So, you did what seemed like the right idea: ran away to your grandparents house. It was under the guise of spending time with them and no one questioned it. They welcomed you with open arms, excited and surprised at the sudden visit.

It was nice with them, not having to deal with Sukuna sending you dirty looks when he walked past the lounge room and not having to avoid him in the halls at night when you were trying to use the bathroom or get a glass of water.

But when it came to you and your step brother Sukuna, nothing good lasted long.

“Oh Sukuna, hello!” The front door opened and your grandpa stepped back to reveal Sukuna, bundled up in a hoodie and sweats.

“Hey gramps.” Sauntering into the house with his hands in his pockets, Sukuna smirked widely at your horrified expression. “Hey little sis, ‘m here to take ya home!”

“W-what?” It had only been a week since you’d been gone, and while you had been planning to come home in a few days you weren’t expecting Sukuna to come get you.

“Yeah, you don’t remember texting me last night asking to pick you up today? Dad let me borrow the car, it’s parked out front.” Hooking his thumb behind him, Sukuna dropped the smirk when your grandma came into the room and donned an innocent pout.

“Sukuna, good to see you! Staying out of trouble I hope?”

“Eh, not really.” He shrugged and laughed lightly. Your grandparents didn’t know the half of it. Just a few days ago Yuji texted you that Sukuna had gotten into another fight and stumbled into your empty room dripping blood.

Your grandma laughed easily, patting him on the chest and muttering something about how rowdy young men can be. Glued to your spot, you watched in agony as Sukuna chatted up your grandparents, talking about something that you didn’t quite catch.

“(Y/N), don’t just sit there Sukuna came all this way to get you! Pack your things.” Your grandma caught your eye, brows knitting at seeing you not moving.

“But-” You stammered, trying to say something more diplomatic besides ‘I don’t want to go home with my perverted step brother that bullies me’.

“You need help getting your stuff together? Where’s your room, I’ll help.” Sukuna was already walking past you and toward the bedrooms, and you couldn’t stop him now. Biting your lip, you followed after him and darted into the bedroom you’d been using.

“Not so fast!” You tried to slam the door shut before Sukuna could come in but he was faster than you thought and much stronger than you remembered. His hand caught the door, shoving it open and shoving you back into the room with ease.

“Why’re you here?” You huff, turning your back to him and gathering the clothes you’d left strewn about.

“I came to get my little sister of course!” He said loud enough for your grandparents to hear. He had one eye over his shoulder, checking to see if one of them would come into the room. With the coast clear, Sukuna turned to you and dropped his voice. “I can’t have my little princess avoiding me forever now, can I?”

“It’s only been a week!” The sentence comes out as a whine and you throw your head back, stamping your foot in a huff.

“A week far too long to be apart from you.” With a dark chuckle, Sukuna walked up to you and pushed you on the shoulder, turning you to him. “I won’t let you slip through my fingers that easily.”

“I hate you.” You glared harshly at him and pushed him back.

“Ouch, those words would hurt if you meant them.”

“I do.”

“Nah, I’m sure you’ll be taking them back real soon.” Snatching the clothes out of your hand, Sukuna threw them across the room. “Now hurry up, I’m tired of fucking waiting.”

The drive home was heavy with unspoken tension. Not a word was spoken from either of you, not that Sukuna particularly cared. He had the radio turned up to some blaring punk rock station, mouthing along to some of the songs and humming every so often.

Entering the house, your heart dropped at realizing it was just you two alone again. It was the middle of the work week and both your parents were out, and Yuji had university classes to attend. Only you and Sukuna, who had no school or job to go to, were in the house.

“My room, now.” Shoving you in the back, Sukuna nearly made you fall over.

“Hey!” He forced you up the stairs and to his room at the end of the hallway, knocking you into the closed door a few times as he fumbled to turn the knob.

“Home sweet home.” Sighing happily, Sukuna closed and locked the door behind him. You’d been in Sukuna’s room only once, when he wasn’t home and you had to collect a few things he’d ‘borrowed’ from your room.

There was an electric guitar and amp in the corner next to a desk covered with random papers and old fast food bags. Multiple overlapping posters were hung on the walls of different bands and strange art that Sukuna liked, along with a few gravure models above his bed. The faint smell of cigarettes and body wash clung to the air, making the dark room feel even darker.

“So, tell me why you left me.” Pushing you to the middle of the room, Sukuna walked around you in circles.

“You know why.”

“Mmm, I don’t think I do.” His voice sounded behind you, and in one swift motion he knocked you out at the knees and sent you to the floor. “Try again.”

“You know why!” You shouted at him, attempting to stand but his hands on your shoulders kept you on the ground.

“Try. Again.” Bending down to your line of sight, Sukuna stared at you with widened eyes.

“I don’t know what you want me to say! You fucked me, Sukuna! And- and I didn’t like it!” Immediately his hand was around your throat, constricting your airways and forcing you to sit up straight on your knees to try and breathe.

“Ya say you didn’t like it but then why’d you cum twice? Certainly weren’t saying you didn’t like it when I was fucking you so good. What were the words you said, ‘I love my big brother's cock’?” Tilting his head to the side, Sukuna let out a disappointed hum. “No, there has to be another reason and I think I know what it is.”

Letting you go, Sukuna straightened up and stared down his nose at you, a hollow look in his eyes as he watched you clutch your throat and gasp in air. Sometime during all this, your phone had fallen out onto the floor and Sukuna picked it up.

“You’re screwing around with a little boyfriend, aren’t you?”

“Wh-what? No I’m not.” You choked, lungs still burning.

“You didn’t want your big brother Sukuna to find out you were fucking cheating on him, right?” Waving your phone in front of your face, Sukuna jerked it out of reach when you tried to grab for it.

“Give it back, that’s not true!” You played the game of cat and mouse, desperately trying to get your phone back from him and leave the room. “Sukuna, it’s not true and you know it!”

“Liar.” Tossing your phone onto his bed, Sukuna grabbed your upper arms and forced you to stand. Stumbling back onto his bed he dragged you with him and as soon as he sat down he threw you across his lap.

A short grunt left your mouth as your chest collided with his legs, hands scrambling on the bed to try and drag yourself off. Sukuna kept a tight grip around your middle, yanking your bottoms and panties off in one go.

“Suku-” Your cry was cut off by a hard slap against your ass, hot pain shooting across your body and only getting worse when he landed a hand on your other cheek.

“You fucking bitch. Do you hate me now?” Sukuna huffed, smacking you again and putting more of his weight into it. Your bottom was already stinging and with each smack that landed it only made it worse.

“S-sukuna! Stop, stop-” Tears were easily streaming out of your eyes and dripping into his mattress. Your feet beat against the bed, trying in vain to stop him from hitting you again.

“You’ve already forgotten your training too? Wow princess, I’m fucking disappointed.” Smacking you again, Sukuna yanked your shirt collar up, forcing you to rest on your elbows and look back at him. “What’re you supposed to call me?”

Squeezing your lips together, you shook your head hard. You couldn’t even focus fully on him with all the tears clouding your vision and there wasn’t a hope for you to actually speak either with the way you were hiccuping.

“Say it.” He barked, slapping the back of your thighs this time.

“Ow!”

“Oh so you can speak! What are you supposed to call me?”

“Big- big brother! Big brother, big brother!” Shaking your head harder, you sucked your bottom lip into your mouth, trying to calm your frantic cries.

“Much fucking better.” Letting you fall back onto the bed, Sukuna hit you a few more times in rapid succession. “But it seems you’ve forgotten just who you belong to.” Without warning Sukuna shoved you off his lap and back onto the floor.

Landing on your ass, you yelped loudly and flipped over onto your stomach, the cool air in the room doing nothing for how hot and irritated your skin was now. It hurt and there was no hiding it, your crying the only sound in the room.

“Quit your crying, you dumb baby. I went easy on you, you should feel grateful.” Walking over you, Sukuna dug through his dresser before procuring a large black t-shirt. Holding it up to the light, he smiled and tossed it down to you.

“Wh-what-?” Trembling fingers grabbed the shirt and turned it over, and you blinked hard to clear the tears and look at what was printed on the front.

“Like it? Had it specially made for you.” On the front of the shirt in big, bold white letters were the words ‘big brothers cumslut’. Sukuna didn’t wait for a response, taking in your horrified expression with glee as he stripped himself. “Go ahead, put it on.”

“Big brother…” You whined, coming to stand on your knees and keeping your ass away from your feet. Twisting the shirt in your hands, you couldn’t decide what was worse: the shirt or the fact that Sukuna was barely two feet from you with a hard cock only getting harder with his hand pumping it.

“Don’t keep me waiting.” He warned and walked past you to lay on the bed. Hanging your head, you stood up and whined again, grabbing the edges of your own shirt and lifting it up. “There we go, nice and slow.”

Your body shook as you took your shirt and bra off, cheeks burning when Sukuna let out a low whistle and fisted his cock a few times at the sight of your naked body. Tears wet your lashes again as you slid the new shirt on, the words on it permanently branded your chest.

With a soft mutter, Sukuna pulled you over to him, moving you to straddle him with his cock nestled between your legs. Laying heavy hands on your hips, he pushed your ass flat against his thighs, not caring in the slightest about your pained squirming.

Humiliation clung to you like a second skin as the weight of the shirt settled on your body. Embarrassment burrowed deeply in your brain as the memories of being spanked by your big brother and crying like a baby took up space in your brain. There was already shame hanging over you from being fucked by Sukuna the first time and you thought it couldn’t get any bigger.

But when he maneuvered his cock between the lips of your cunt, pressing it flush against your wet sex without sticking it in and pushing and pulling your hips to grind against him, it increased tenfold.

Your hands slapped down onto his chest, whether you wanted to stop him or get more momentum was unknown even to you. It was deplorable the amount of your slick he was able to build up just by grinding you on his cock.

“You like that, stupid girl?” Sukuna groaned lightly, his lip caught between his teeth as he watched your cunt envelop him, the tip of his cock poking out every so often.

“I-” You struggled to answer. Every slide back brought the pain in your ass back to the forefront of your mind and every slide forward had sparks shooting up your spine at the way your clit rubbed against him.

“See, I just had to be a little mean to you, to teach you a lesson.” Sukuna kept talking, catching your hazy eyes but not really caring if you were listening. “Big brother just had to remind you of a few things, but as long as you’re good he won’t have to do it again.”

“O-okay.” Nodding your heavy head, you sniffled away the remaining tears. “M’sorry, brother.” You weren’t even sure what you were apologizing for, the words just tumbling out of your mouth easily.

“Ooh princess.” Sukuna cooed, pouting his lip and lifting a hand to shake your head by the chin. “I know you are. That’s why you’re gonna make me feel real good to make it up.”

“Mhmm.” Sukunas hand dropped from your chin and grabbed onto your hips again and this time you moved with him. The slow push and pull of your hips picked up when you began to move on your own accord, gliding your cunt across his cock.

Seeing you move on your own, Sukuna let go of your hips and put his hands behind his head, lacing his fingers together and sighing contently. His lip caught between his teeth again watching you grind yourself on him.

“Big brother, I-” The pleasure you were getting from this was mind numbing, the direct stimulation on your clit combined with the hazy fog you were already in from getting spanked making you forget how to do anything except keep moving.

“So good for me, aren’t you.” Sukuna groaned and his arms shook as a jolt went up. “Just like that, keep going.”

“Brother…” All the pleasure you were getting was amazing, but you were growing needy. There was something you still needed, something the clenching of your empty cunt wouldn’t let you ignore.

Lifting yourself up with horribly shaky arms, your eyes were glued to Sukunas cock, glistening with your juices and absolutely rock hard. Stuffing part of the shirt in your mouth so you could see better, you grabbed Sukunas cock and attempted to guide it into your cunt.

“Aht, not so fast princess.” Snatching your hand off of him, Sukuna grabbed both your hands and held them up and away.

“Lemme go- I wanna- want your-” Your attempts at tugging your wrists free was weak and in vain. Sinking back, Sukuna’s cock resumed its previous spot hugged by your cunt.

“Don’t forget you were still a bad girl, you still need to learn your lesson.”

“Meanie.” Pouting down at him, you sloppily jutted your hips forward. The move made Sukuna’s breath hitch and you did it a few more times, rutting against him in a feeble attempt at getting back at him.

“You think you’re doing something but really you’re just gonna make me cum.” Squeezing your wrists one more time, Sukuna let them go and put his hands on your thighs. “And when I cum it’s all over.”

The implication of his words took several long seconds to reach your consciousness. If you wanted to cum, it would have to be this way, and it would have to be before Sukuna came. Slowing down, you tried to angle your hips forward to put more pressure on your clit.

“Don’t slow down now, keep going!” Catching on quickly, Sukuna smacked your thighs and squeezed them, forcing you back to the pace you were at earlier.

“Brother, please!” Digging the tips of your fingers into his chest, you tried to forcibly slow down.

“Quit being such a greedy brat and take what I give you.”

“Gimme- yo-your cock!” Gone was the shame that had clung to you so heavily. Nothing else mattered now except for the achingly empty feeling inside you desperate to be filled by your big brother's cock.

“You have it right here princess.” Sukuna grinned, thrusting his hips up. The sharp movement had your heavy head lolling forward and eyes screwing shut.

“Big brother, fuck.” Your chest heaved greatly as you fought to keep getting air into your lungs. Your shirt was bunched up by your waist, held in place by Sukuna so he could get an uninterrupted look at you humping him.

With renewed vigor you ground your hips against his as fast as you could, zealously chasing the pleasure that you could get from this moment. It had your toes curling and you were absolutely gushing around his cock, making the slide even easier.

A couple sharp, high pitched cries leave your lips just as Sukuna cums at the same time as you. His back arches up off the mattress, a deep groan rumbling from his chest. You don’t stop moving and Sukuna doesn’t let you, making you fuck him through both your orgasms.

Some of his cum catches on the front of your cunt, but most of it splatters across his crotch and lower stomach. Every thrust of your hips seems to push more out, spurting the sticky white fluid out in a disjointed pattern.

When the stupor of his orgasm wears off Sukuna lets you go, lets you fall forward and then to his side in a tired, mushy lump. As he catches his breath he watches your thighs twitch from the aftershocks of your orgasm, the shine of your slick cunt glaringly obvious to him.

Lazily, Sukuna grabs a few tissues of the bedside table and wipes himself clean. He would have had you do it and made you lick him clean, but he couldn’t trust you not to stick his soft cock into you and try to fuck him.

“Hey, princess this isn’t a fucking hotel.” He jerks your shoulder, forcing you to sit up and shake off the light sleep that had dusted across your eyes.

“What’re you doing?” You grumble, steadily growing annoyed as he forces you to your feet and towards the door.

“Good girls get to sleep in my bed, but you’re still on fucking punishment, remember?”

“You’re being mean, s’not fair!” Pushing back against him, you almost make it back onto his bed.

“Get out, you little bitch! Learn to act right and be a good girl.” Wrapping an arm under your breasts, Sukuna hoists you up and drags you out of his room, dumping you unceremoniously out into the hall.

A pitiful whine leaves you, but you gather yourself up and stand in front of him. You don’t even realize you’ve started crying until Sukuna rubs a rough hand across your face and wipes a few tears away.

“Shut up and go put your shit in your room.” You nod, lower lip trembling and sniffling loudly, but make no sign to move. Rolling his eyes, Sukuna slaps the doorframe. “Fine, since you’re being so pathetic, here’s a deal. Are you listening?”

“Y-yes.”

“If you go and put all your shit away you can come and lay down in my bed. Deal?” Crossing his arms over his chest, Sukuna tapped his foot impatiently as he waited for you to answer. “Well, do we have a fucking deal or not?”

“Yes.” Wiping your eyes again, you take a few steps back.

“Yes what?”

“Yes big brother.” There’s a pout on your lips as you say it and Sukuna swipes his thumb across your bottom lip.

“Good girl. Now get going, I don’t wanna have to come and get you again.” Giving your ass a pat and reminding you of the pain in your backside that had been pushed away, Sukuna grinned. With a quick nod you scurried away, feet landing heavy on the stairs as you went to grab your bag.

Man, did Sukuna love having such a good little sister or what?

[drarrily-we-row-along]

hello, excuse me if this makes you uncomfortable but my birthday is September 14 and I have very few friends and therefore I did not receive congratulations or gifts, could I please ask for something with drarry and scorbus? something like Harry and his children living in the manor anda Lucius and Narcissa still alive, I know it's out of your comfort zone and if you can't or don't want to then sorry for the inconvenience🥺😖

Scorbus

Hello friends, First thing- Happy birthday to the nonnie who requested this. Second thing- Yes! For your birthday and for the other lovelies who have requested Scorbus, I will write one (1) Scorbus fic. I will do my best but I've got to be honest- I don't have any real feelings about Scorbus (I don't read much of it and didn't enjoy The Cursed Child). So we'll have to see how it turns out.

cw: talks about hospice care and future death (not of a main character- we're talking about Lucius, no death will take place in the fic) without further ado, here's the best take I can give you. <3

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

"But Daaad," Albus whined, "I don't want to go!"

"I know, bud," Harry replied, instantly regretting calling his 15-year-old 'bud', as he helped Lily find her bag.

James came in and flopped on Albus' bed, "It's just because he-"

"Shut up!" Albus shrieked, pouncing on him and smothering him with a pillow.

"Boys-" Harry started even as the boys started screaming and wrestling and Lily started to cry about not being able to find something. "Enough!" he shouted, casting a shield charm between the boys. "All of you," he said, "Let's just take a breath."

"But-" multiple voices rang out.

"No buts," he interrupted. "Deep breaths. Right now."

(Read more below the cut)

Everyone glared at him but at least they stopped talking.

"Okay," he said, "James, please stop intentionally trying to bother your brother."

Albus stuck his tongue out at him.

"Al, please finish packing. Lily, your straightener is in the bathroom under the sink."

They let out a collective groan.

"Look guys," he said. "I know. I know it's hard when I have to go to work. I know being in a house where someone is about to die is difficult. But Draco is a good friend and if I can help Lucius pass on, I need to do it. Okay?"

All of his children nodded sullenly.

"Besides," he added, "The manor is huge. You won't even have to see Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy. And," he said, smiling at Albus, "Scorpius will be there. I'm sure he'll be glad to have a friend, yeah?"

Albus rolled his eyes and just muttered, "Can you get out so I can pack, please?"

With a sigh, Harry nodded and left, thinking for the thousandth time that single parenting was really fucking hard.

---------

He hadn't expected this to be his life. Harry had expected that he'd join the aurors or that he'd go on to be a quidditch player.

Working as a hospice care healer had never been in the plans. But there was no denying that he was good at it; he wasn't grossed out by all of the ways that bodies failed as a person began the process of dying. He didn't mind the late nights and early mornings. He actually usually enjoyed listening to stories from his patient as they reflected on their lives. And death didn't bother him. He'd spent nearly twenty years in this profession, he was good at his job, and he liked it.

Still, as he stood looking at the Manor, nerves that he hadn't felt in years settled in. He couldn't be sure if it was because the Manor still gave him the creeps all these years later, if it was because it was Lucius Malfoy and they'd never had the best of relationships, if it was because he was anxious about how Draco would handle his father's death, or something else entirely.

"Let's go," Albus snapped, impatient and anxious.

He nodded once and stepped up onto the top step and rang the door bell.

Draco opened the door, looking exhausted.

"Hey," Harry said softly, aching to hold him, to take him into his arms and hide him away from the rest of the world and all that was happening to him.

But they didn't do that. Not in public, not where anyone could see them including their families. Maybe especially their families. "Hi," Draco replied and Harry knew he was wishing for the same thing. "Thanks for coming."

"Of course," he said because there hadn't really ever been a choice. He loved Draco and he would do anything that would help make this easier. "Let me just get these guys settled in and I'll check in with your dad, okay?"

He nodded, "I have you guys set up in the West wing," he said as he started inside, "I know this is probably not the way you were hoping to spend your summer hols-" Draco started.

"It's okay," Lily said, falling into step beside Draco. "I'm sorry about your dad," she added.

"Thank you," he replied.

And Harry smiled, if nothing else, he and Ginny still agreed it was important to raise their kids to practice kindness.

-----------

It was a long day. The first day at a new job almost always was, lots of intake paperwork, lots of working to make sure they had all their doses right in order to keep their patient comfortable, and inevitably lots of input from the patient's family.

By the time Harry had gotten everything set up and diagnostic spells and alerts in place, Lucius was sleeping comfortably in the hospice bed, Narcissa on the cot beside him.

Only Draco remained awake, watching Harry work from the sofa in the corner.

When he finished he nodded to the door and Draco followed him out. "You okay?" he asked softly once the door closed.

"Will you stay with me tonight?" he whispered.

"Yeah, love," he replied, giving Draco's hand a quick squeeze. "Of course."

Draco nodded once and led the way through the halls to a different wing entirely. He opened the last door on the left and let Harry in first.

Harry looked around curiously. He'd obviously seen Draco's room in his own home but not the room he occupied when he stayed at the Manor.

"It's actually not the room I stayed in as a child," Draco informed him as he made his way to the drawers to pull out two pairs of pajamas. "It gave me nightmares," he said, "after everything in this awful house."

He hummed, "It must be hard," he said gently, slipping into the comfortable clothes Draco had tossed him. "A lot of trauma wrapped up in an already challenging event." He folded down the covers and climbed in, making a space for Draco so he could curl up in front of him.

"Harry?" he asked once he'd settled back against him and pulled Harry's arm snug around his waist.

He hummed, pressing a kiss to the smooth, soft skin of Draco's neck.

"Do you think you might want to tell our families about us?"

Harry froze, "Do you think you might want to tell our families?" he asked.

"I asked first."

"Personally," Harry said, "Yes. I would like that. I don't like keeping things from my kids and you're," he swallowed. It was silly to be nervous, he'd said this before, but he couldn't help the surge of adrenaline. "I love you, Draco. You're important to me. But the real question is do you want to tell them? You dad-"

"My father is a bigoted arse," he snapped. "And yes he is dying but Harry you make me so happy and I just," he sighed. "I don't want to keep it a secret anymore. If he hates it, he hates it but I don't want him to go from this life thinking that he got to control mine."

Harry didn't quite know what to say.

"I'm awful. I know. I-"

"Draco," he said, squeezing him a little tighter, "I wasn't judging you. I don't think you're awful. Grief and death affect us all differently. If that's what you want, let's do it."

"Let's tell our kids first."

--------

Harry called a family meeting the next day after he'd check on Lucius and they'd done a bit of exercise and gone for a walk.

In retrospect, this might not have been the best thing to call it. Family meeting had never had the best associations and the last one they'd had was to tell the kids that he and Ginny were getting a divorce.

His kids were cagey, Scorpius was withdrawn, and Draco was honestly a bit erratic.

"Okay," he said, smiling at the room, only Lily smiled back. "So we," he said pointing back and forth between him and Draco, "have some news."

"Oh Salazar, please no," Albus whispered.

Harry gave him the look the one every parent had perfected by the time their child was three. "It's good news," Harry said.

"We're together," Draco blurted.

James barely looked up from his book as he said, "Called it."

Lily said "Like together-together?"

And Albus promptly burst into tears, fleeing the room.

"Albus!" Scorpius shouted, jumping up and chasing after him.

Harry and Draco looked at each other. "Maybe he thought that Ginny and I would get back together someday?"

James rolled his eyes, "That's not it. He and Scorpius are like," he waved a careless hand, "a thing."

Draco's eyes widened.

"Oh," Harry said. "And no one could have said something about this before?"

James shrugged, turning the page, "I tried to say something yesterday and you told me to shut up."

"I did not use those words," Harry said.

"Yeah, but that's what you meant."

Harry opened his mouth to argue, he was careful about his words, never wanting his kids to feel like they were unloved and unheard.

"It's fine, dad," James said, waving him off, "You should talk to Albus."

He was right, they really did need to talk to Albus and Scorpius.

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

When they found them, Al and Scorpius were sitting together on one of the swings and Al was still crying.

"Alright," Harry said, transfiguring a couple of sticks into chairs. "Let's talk about this."

"You're the worst," Albus shouted at him. "It's like you're intentionally trying to ruin my life without even knowing you're doing it."

It took everything in Harry not to point out the fallacy in that logic. Draco, too, if the sharp intake of breath was anything to go by. "Could you tell me more about why you feel that way?" Harry asked, gently squeezing Draco's thigh.

"Because he thinks you're going to ask us to break up," Scorpius said, biting his bottom lip.

"And even if you don't, everyone's going to think it's weird," Albus said, a hiccoughing sob escaping.

"Think what's weird?" Draco asked.

"If you guys are dating and we're dating," Scorpius said.

Harry nodded, "I think I understand," he said. "But honestly, guys, we're not going to ask you to stop dating and it doesn't really matter what other people think."

"Easy for you to say," Albus sniffled, "You're Harry Potter. Everyone already loves you."

"I agree with you dad," Draco said, "other people's opinions are irrelevant. It's not as though you were raised together or anything like that."

"Well everyone already hates you anyway," Albus snapped, "So why would it matter?"

"Albus," Harry warned, "Apologize."

"No, it's alright," Draco said. "I used to be a lot like you, you know," he said. "I used to really care about what other people thought and how they felt."

"What changed?" Scorpius asked curiously.

"Your mum, actually," he said, with a little smile. "She helped me to look at myself and see who I really was, not the person that people believe me to be. She helped me to recognize that other people didn't define me, I did." He shrugged, "At the end of the day, if I chose to listen to them I was still the one defining myself that way."

"That," Albus started, wiping his nose on the back of his hand, "Makes sense."

"Good," Draco said, nodding once.

Harry squeezed his hand, "Right, well, congratulations, you two. Please be sure if you decide to make things physical you talk to one of us about protection spe-"

"Dad!" Albus shrieked, covering his ears. "Shut up! Shut up! Merlin save me."

Draco laughed, attempting to stifle it with a cough and failing in Harry's opinion.

"I'm just saying," Harry said, holding up his hands in defeat. "We should probably have this conversation at some point."

Albus shook his head and Scorpius had turned as red as a beet.

"Well. I'm off, then. Back to work," Harry replied.

Draco took his hand, "I'll walk you," he offered and they headed back to the house.

"Well," Harry said, once they were a good distance away. "That was unexpected."

"Was it, though?" Draco asked. "The way Scorp talks about Albus," he trailed off. "Well, let's just say he reminded me a little too much of me at that age."

"Had a crush on me that long have you?"

He laughed, "Longer. My father was just too bigoted to take my ramblings for what they really were."

Harry leaned over and pecked his cheek, "Well, I after that, I think that telling your parents will be a piece of cake."

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

See the rest of my drabbles here

[pigeonp0st]

Hi!! Can you possibly write a head cannon where y/n is kurts twin and is dating Quinn? Sorry if this isn’t specific any storyline is ok.

Quinn Fabray x Reader #3

Words: 2,024

Warnings: Mention of Car Crash, Hospital

Notes:

I was reading a story that involved a car crash and just...sort of took inspiration from that for more direction. I hope this is what you were looking for, thank you for requesting (and sorry for spelling mistakes)

———

You got into a car crash.

It wasn’t really your fault, it’s not as if you could have known that some dude driving a truck wanted to push you off a cliff…well, you’re sure he didn’t exactly want to; but that’s not the point, you think.

The point is that you got into a car crash. A car crash (or truck crashing, really) that you should have died from, but you didn’t. A car crash that should have presented lifetime injuries, but it didn’t.

And you’re lucky. That’s the magic word that keeps going around. You’re lucky.

Yeah, fuck that.

You don’t feel very lucky, laying down in your hospital bed and feeling so much pain everywhere, laying down in your hospital bed and not even being able to go to the bathroom by yourself... this doesn’t feel lucky. This feels miserable and shitty and—

Quinn. Quinn is here.

Quinn is sitting in the corner of the hospital room, reading a book with red rimmed eyes and shaky hands.

Quinn she— she wasn’t here yesterday. You wonder for a moment how she could have found out, and then you realize��

Kurt.

Kurt went to school today. You figure he must have relayed the news to the Glee club. If you had been awake yesterday, or even the day before—the night you got into the crash—you would have told him not to tell her.

Quinn doesn’t deserve to find out about this the way she probably found out about this. Quinn doesn’t deserve the worry she’s probably feeling...you know it would have been better for you to text her yourself so she knew immediately that you were fine. So you would be able to downplay the injuries.

Kurt likes being dramatic, and Quinn likes to panic.

“Quinn, you can’t be here,” you rasp out, your throat dry from lack of use. Her green eyes immediately snap up towards you.

“Y/N,” Quinn breathes out, voice full of relief as she sets her book down and moves towards the side of your bed to cup your cheek. “They said you woke up earlier but I had to see it to believe it.”

You give her a weak smile, not able to resist nuzzling your face into her hands. Her eyes watering with more tears almost makes you regret it. “Baby,” you whisper, “Kurt...my dad...what if they see? Where are they?”

Quinn’s face morphs into something guilty and apprehensive. “They both... sort of know about our relationship now…” she rushes to continue when she sees your wide eyes, “they were shocked, but they seem to be doing fine with the news.”

You blink at her, once, twice, and then drop your eyes closed with a wince. “Kurt’s gonna bother me so much about this,” you mumble. “How did they find out?”

You feel Quinn tense before you manage to open your eyes to see it.

“Me yelling at the nice lady up front to let me see my girlfriend probably told them as much,” Quinn says slowly, as if she expects an angry reaction. You don’t feel much anger. You haven’t really cared about them knowing for a while now…

In the beginning it just made sense to keep it a secret from them. Now, not so much.

Plus, nearly dying put some things into perspective for you.

“Does Finn know?”

Now it’s Quinn’s turn to wince. “I’m not sure,” she admits quietly, then adds, “i’m sorry if i’ve made things awkward for you.”

You can’t help but laugh at that, a laugh that turns into a coughing fit, and then turns into a whole bunch of growling while you grit your teeth in pain. “Fuck, fuck, that really hurt.”

Quinn’s hand is trembling again. “Do you want me to get the doctors?” She asks, with no small amount of panic. She’s terrified, and has been terrified since the moment Kurt told her you were in an accident.

“No, no, it’s fine,” you assure her, ignoring the pull of stitches that feel like they’re everywhere, and the hurt in your ribs. “I’m sure Finn will get over it eventually, when he finds out.”

“It’s not as if you two were siblings when I dated him,” Quinn jokes, though her eyebrows are furrowed with her worry.

You give her a smile that you hope is reassuring and try to relax into the hospital bed. Your eyes are heavy with tiredness, and you feel extremely drugged (yet at the same time not drugged enough), but you want to stay awake for Quinn.

Quinn has other plans.

She kisses your forehead, then promises against the skin there, “i’ll be here when you wake up.”

And right before you drift off into the dream world, you hear her say; “please don’t do this to me again,” in a voice that’s so weak and scared that you want to open your eyes again and reassure her.

You fall asleep instead.

——-

Quinn is there when you wake up again, but so is Kurt.

They’re talking. About you, you realize bitterly. About the crash, and the physical therapy you’re going to need to go through for your shoulder.

They’re talking quietly, as if to not disturb you, and it’s weird hearing the two most important people in your life talk. Especially since you know that just a day ago Kurt was terrified of Quinn.

Maybe not terrified...he was intimidated. Everyone is of Quinn.

(Quinn admitted to you once that sometimes she thrives in their fear, and other times she just feels alone. She told you that she doesn’t want to hurt people anymore just because she’s hurting, and that she’s trying to make people comfortable around her again.

The intimidation used to be from fear, now it’s from awe, so you suppose her plan hasn’t really worked. People worship the ground she walks on.

You worship the ground she walks on.)

Quinn is more deep than you expected though, and more deep than you’re sure everyone else expects. She’s more funny, more smart, more self-deprecating, more hurt, more nerdy, more goofy—than you ever realized.

She’s just a person full of surprises.

“Y/N?”

You jump in the hospital bed in alarm, your side and shoulder aching in protest. Yep. Quinn is full of surprises.

“Are you okay?” Quinn asks, giving you a sad smile. “Sorry for shocking you.”

Kurt pokes his head over her shoulder (it’s weird seeing them so close), “you don’t look so good,” he points out, as if you hadn’t already figured that out. The glare you send him has him shrugging.

“I’m fine, babe.” You ignore Kurt’s smirk at the nickname. “Could one of you just ask the doctors for about twenty pills for the pain?”

“And a hairbrush,” Kurt jokes, though his eyes are lined with the worry he thinks he’s hiding well, “got it.”

“You try getting pushed off a small cliff by a truck, see how you look afterwards!” You yell at Kurt’s retreating back.

There’s a tense silence the second Kurt is out of the room. Quinn’s eyes are focused on a spot on the hospital sheets, and she doesn’t look at you, even as she tries to make a joke for some levity;

“Twenty pills is a definite overdose. I hope Kurt isn’t actually asking for that amount.”

You snort, shaking your head. “They wouldn’t give it to him even if he asked.” Then, quietly, you ask; “Quinn, are you alright?”

She shakes her head. “You almost died,” Quinn mumbles, and she says it like an explanation, you suppose it is one.

It was terrifying, those moments when the truck hit, and those long moments after when you were still conscious.

“I keep thinking about what would have happened if you weren’t even a bit as lucky as you were,” she admits, closing her eyes. “You almost died. The only reason you're here now is because you were lucky.”

“Quinn—”

“You can’t die,” Quinn says, her eyes desperate when they snap open to look into yours. “You don’t get to leave me. That can’t be an option.”

But it is, because nothing is really guaranteed in life. Quinn knows this, has known this since a very young age, you imagine.

“I’m sorry,” is the only thing you can manage to say in the face of Quinn’s sadness.

Quinn seems to get a hold of herself after your apology. She just shakes her head and runs a hand through her hair and she’s Quinn again. “It’s not your fault. Just work hard at getting better soon so you can help me get through the school days.”

You nod, then hesitate. “Will you love me if I never drive again?” It’s meant to be a joke but it comes out more seriously than you intend. Quinn’s eyes immediately go soft and loving.

“Yes. I’d love you even if you didn’t even want to sit in a car again,” she says, and you believe her. You believe her.

“Then you’d have to walk everywhere with me,” you laugh, even as tears fall down your cheek. Quinn immediately bends down to kiss them away.

“The more calories burned, the more junk food I can have,” Quinn reassures, and you love her.

You love her so damn much.

——

Kurt is eyeing you and Quinn with something like wonderments in his eyes later that day.

Quinn can’t bring herself to care much though. What he thinks about her relationship with you in the least of her concerns right now. The only thing she really cares about right now is you.

She cares about you looking at her the way you’re looking at her right now, with a dopey drug induced smile. She cares about the fact that you’re looking at her at all. You’re looking at her right now because you’re alive.

You’re alive, Quinn reminds herself. The what if’s don’t matter.

“Quinn, will you marry me?” You ask, words slurred together. It brings Quinn straight out of her thoughts and into the real world.

She blinks at you for a couple of seconds and then nods uncertainty. You won’t remember this anyways, Quinn assures herself, but as she looks over her shoulder at Kurt’s wide eyes she realizes that he will.

Welp.

“One day,” Quinn continues, for appearance sake. Kurt snorts behind her.

She can’t be whipped enough for her girlfriend that she accepts a proposal this young. (She is though. She hates to admit that she’s incapable of saying no to a question like that from you, but it’s the truth.)

“I wanna get married now,” You protest, and Quinn doesn’t really know what to say to that.

“Y/N you can’t force the girl to marry you. Have some respect,” Kurt says, laughter in his voice. Quinn’s thankful for his intervention, though she won’t show it.

You pout at Kurt, and then at Quinn, “Fine. Just tell me when you’re ready, okay?” You ask, and Quinn loves desperately. She loves.

“Yeah. Okay.”

Not even Kurt’s rambling about ‘the disgustingness of love’ keeps her from the lightness in her chest at seeing you smile at her the way you are now.

You’re going to be okay.

The both of you will be, Quinn realizes, when Kurt cuts off his complaints to start planning for your wedding.

“We won’t be getting married for a while,” Quinn reminds the both of them. She gets blissfully ignored after a side glance from Kurt and another pout from you.

She’ll be okay, and even—Quinn realizes—Kurt will be. She wasn’t paying attention to how devastated he seemed earlier today, but in the face of his relief and happiness the differences between his behavior now seem obvious now.

He was devastated, but he’s okay now, because you’re awake. Quinn’s okay now because you're awake.

“Quinn, will you wear a suit for the wedding?” You ask, bringing Quinn out of her thoughts for probably the fifth time today.

Kurt snickers at Quinn’s resounding grimace, and his amusement only raises when Quinn mumbles, hesitantly, “we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.”

“That sounds like a no, dear sister.”

[fandomlovingfreak]

Glacial Passion (2/?)

Regulus Black/Reader

Rating: Suggestive Content, but no lemon

Word Count: 1809

MasterList Link I AO3 Link I Wattpad Link

Summary: Glacial, cold, icy… all words that described Regulus Black’s grey eyes. Was there truly no emotion behind those eyes, or did a caring man exist beneath? Could she defrost those glacial eyes?

Disclaimer: Regulus Black (Walburga Black, Orion Black, and Sirius Black) is a character from Harry Potter by J.K. Rowling. Reader or y/n is not owned by Rowling. This work has not been created for profit or financial compensation, and is a transformative fair use work in accordance with Section 107 of the United States Copyright Act.

Notes: So I am a liar, and this will be longer than 3 chapters probably:) I kept writing chapter 2 and it ended up being more like 6000 words, so I’m splitting it up baby

Enjoy

Pulled from sleep abruptly, I sit up, disoriented in the unfamiliar bedroom. Glancing around as the memories of last night come flooding in. This bed, now empty , belongs to my husband. Noticing said husband's absence, I rest my hand where I last saw him, noting that the sheets are cool to the touch. I glance towards the two doors leading to the closet and bathroom. Something deep inside me hopes that Regulus would pop out of either of the doors. 

Maybe he went to get something--

No. It's absurd to let myself believe that Regulus simply stepped out of the room for a moment. My foolish heart wants to believe he didn't, but I'm all too aware that Regulus abandoned me in our bed the morning after our wedding.

Why I assumed having sex with him would magically make him love me, I don't know. It was ridiculous, a miscalculation , an expectation that I had been holding onto consciously or not.

I laugh bitterly to myself. How stupid can I be? 

How stupid.

***

I assume running into me in the library of the house was an unpleasant accident on his part, partly from the stuttering pause when he walked through the doors and partly from the icy look he gave me.

How someone can look at another with such-- coldness , especially someone you could at best call a stranger, is unfathomable to me. I look back down at the book that I've spent my day entertaining myself with to shield myself from his frigid eyes.

It's helped pass the time to an extent, the time I should have been with him doing whatever newlyweds do on their first day of marriage.

At first, I had wandered the halls aimlessly debating with myself if breakfast with his parents, alone, would be too unbearable. It was a perfectly tragic breakfast, with Walburga asking me an array of pointless questions that had little to do with getting to know her new daughter-in-law.

Worst of all, she had been relentless in her demanding way about the importance of an heir, as if I were supposed to pop one out after one night. I had to admit, the idea of exposing her son and his use of contraceptive charms had been a delicious idea at the moment. In the end, though, I chose civility with my charming husband, even as the spite I felt for him in the current time had nearly pushed me towards the edge in these conversations.

I had wandered into the library after escaping my in-laws, and I hadn't left since then. The novel chosen to occupy my time had been working to make me forget that I was beyond annoyed with Regulus and my situation... but then he walked in and ruined what little sanity I had collected in the past hours.

Regulus still stands in the door frame, looking as if he may turn around and walk away before engaging me in any conversation or even a simple hello. If this son-of-a-bitch turns around and pretends he didn't see me, I swear I will make myself a widow.

"(y/n)."

My shoulders tense, "Regulus."

He doesn't respond for a second before asking, "Have you had a nice day?"

Un-fucking-believable , "No."

Not even married a full twenty-four hours, and he left me alone to fend for myself in this creaky, horrible old house with only his parents and a house-elf for company, and he dares to ask me if I've had a nice day?

If I hadn't just had one of the most soul-draining days of my life, I would've laughed at the look on his face. He doesn't quite know what to do with my firm 'no'. Naturally, I am not happy, and I will not hide my unhappiness from my dear husband.

"What is the matter? Did you--"

"You ran off to Merlin-knows-where, leaving me alone in this house. I did not have a good day, thank you for asking." I go back to the book I was reading. I had been enjoying this moment of reprieve from the anger I was feeling, but now that he's returned, I can barely focus on the little black words.

"Mother and father were here--"

"I don't find their company appealing," I spit back. How dare he not even explain himself. And suggest such a-- repulsive alternative . His parents? He really wanted me to spend my first day as his wife with his parents?

"I assumed you would want to get to know your family."

"You didn't suppose I would want to get to know my husband?" I can't help but bite back. His calm tone further aggravates me.

"You should know your family." 

"They are not my family."

I peek over my book to see his face. Confusion and a tinge of annoyance lace his features.

"They are your family."

" No , they are not."

He lets a frown crease his forehead for a moment before he goes back to his mask of passivity. "You are my wife." 

"That is true." My jaw clenches uncomfortably. What was his point?

"Then you are family, which makes my family yours ."

I shake my head, "no, it does not. "

Regulus looks frustrated, "When we have children. Then you will consider my family as yours?"

"No."

"No? How can you say no to a fact? A child of ours will be related to my family as well as yours and bear the Black name."

"That is all true, but it does not make us family."

Regulus has the decency to look shocked at my words, "I am your husband. Of course, we are family. With a child, that's even more so."

"Our marriage is a glorified contract at best. You do not love me, and I do not love you. You don't even try to love me. You made it fairly clear today that you don't intend on trying. Yes, any child born between us would be my family, but that does not make us family. Family implies some bond of familial familiarity. I don't know you, and at this rate, I don't see myself ever knowing you." I keep eye contact as I lay out our situation to my husband. Husband didn't even feel like it should apply to him. The warmth the word could have brought to me has been extinguished by Regulus's lack of emotion. Lack of-- everything.

Regulus stares back.

"I can't love you."

His words pierce any anger I felt. I knew that this morning. Knew it as the hours passed by today, and I still heard nothing from him. I feel the lump of sorrow firm in my throat, and before I can stop myself, I whisper, "but why?" The weakness I let seep into the words disgusts me. I can't afford to be weak in this marriage.

His icy eyes stare into my watery ones. Stupid tears. 

"It's not who I am."

Rage fills where the sorrow sat a moment ago. "I have been damned to an eternity of misfortune. I don't understand what I did to deserve this."

Refusing to show this vulnerability, I practically run from the room.

I walk past the doors to the other bedrooms of Grimmauld place, finding mine— ours . Collapsing on the bed, I let myself tear up completely. 

I hate it here, and I can't think of any way to get out of it. Nothing can fix this— this mistake of a marriage.

Wiping the tears from my eyes, I look up at the heavy canopy. I don't know how I'll survive this marriage; at least my sanity won't survive. How anyone can live in this dreary home is beyond me.

***

Regulus paces the room, not expecting an argument from her. (y/n) had been so... docile the entire night they spent together. Nothing could've prepared for him to hear her frustrated words or her claim that she possibly wanted anything from him.

And her quiet "but why"... he nearly lost his cool at the broken sound of (y/n)'s voice. He hadn't expected her to be so�� emotional.

Despite their marriage being arranged, his wife clearly came in with the hope she could grow to love him. And she seemed to hope that he could love her as well.

If he had any idea how to be in love, he would try for her. But… it's complicated. Even with the bonding spell between couples like them, he doubts he can act as she wishes.

Maybe he could act it , but that's not fair to (y/n). 

Regulus knew that it would be much crueler to pretend to love her when he truly did not.

***

(y/n) doesn't accompany him to dinner. Walburga and Orion don't comment, but he can tell that they are curious to know why their daughter-in-law wasn't present. 

When he makes his way to their room, he isn't surprised that she doesn't turn around to greet him.

For a moment, he watches her as she sits at her vanity. She is a rather pretty girl, he muses. He supposes he should be appreciative to have such a beautiful wife. But, unfortunately, not many men in these marriages could say they were attracted to their wives.

He's about to approach her when she speaks.

"I want a child." 

Regulus's mouth goes dry, " You do ?" 

(Y/n) turns around in her vanity chair, "I do."

"Where-- did this come from?"

"Is this not why we married?"

Regulus crosses his arms across his chest, "that's beside the point."

"It's not! This is why marriages like ours take place!" She gets up close and personal to him, "that's why your parents chose me for you. So I would have your children and continue your line ."

He doesn't argue with her because she isn't wrong.

"We don't need a child now."

She laughs bitterly, "You'll deny me this as well?" 

"I'm not— denying you anything."

"You have no right to say no to me, Regulus Black."

"We've been married for less than a week."

"The sooner, the better." She echoes his own words.

Regulus sighs, running a hand through his hair. This is the last conversation he wants to have at 10 P.M.

"We are not having a child right now. That's final."

She gets back up in his face, "We will see about that." (y/n) moves around him towards the door.

"Where are you going?"

"I'm sleeping elsewhere." He almost snorts at the irony of her leaving the room when she's all but declared she could seduce him into giving her the child she wants.

Instead, he grabs her arm before she can leave, "you stay here. I'll leave."

"I am perfectly capable of sleeping in a different room."

"Stay here," he gives her a serious look.

(Y/n) looks away from him, pulling her arm free, "fine."

[ashintheairlikesnow]

Would lowkey kill to see Kauri attempting to write poetry in his relationship with Jake era (omg Jake helping him/being the one to write it down) I always forget that he was a writer and loves poetry and I love him 10 times more every time I remember

CW: Some references to past trauma, forced illiteracy, some brief internalized victim-blaming/slut-shaming, Kauri’s low self-esteem

Takes place after Worth the Risk and Kauri’s first glimpse of his own past

“This is fucking stupid. I can’t fucking do this.” Kauri picks up the notebook, hard-backed blue with little golden stars twinkling on the cover, and throws it full-strength across the room until it smacks into the wall and drops to the ground, open to his own scrawling, struggling handwriting.

Chris, wrapped in a big fuzzy blue blanket and curled up in an armchair playing a game on his phone or texting Laken or maybe both, flinches and looks up. “Kauri?”

Kauri looks away from the earnest concern in those huge green eyes and kicks ineffectually at the coffee table, hissing when he doesn’t actually miss and his toes connect with the hard wooden leg. “Fuck. Fucking-... bullshit, I’m an idiot trying to do this, just-... god damn it. I should know better.”

There’s a silence, and then Chris asks, softly, “Know better than, than... than to what? What were you, um, you doing?”

Kauri’s jaw is set and for a second he considers lying. He’s a good liar, after all, and Chris is always so ready to believe him, he wouldn’t even question it. Safer to lie, hide the ideas inside his head, talk instead about something soft and surface-level. 

Safer to be stupid, always.

But he’s trying not to do that anymore.

He’s trying.

“Writing,” He says, finally. “I was... trying to-... write something.” The words are ground out of him nearly against his will. He glares at the notebook lying open on the floor, the scrawling handwriting of the fucked up slut still thinking he can be anything else. Looping and childish, too big almost to fit within the lines. 

“Oh.” Chris pauses, and then brightens, setting his phone aside and straightening up. “You, you sad you think that you used to, to, to, to write, didn’t you?”

“Yeah.” Kauri’s head hurts, a sharp punishing ache. How dare he think in metaphor and simile, how dare he try to build the villanelle, how dare he remember vaguely arguing with someone in a coffeeshop over old poetic forms being superior to poems that don’t even try to fit within a rhythm, and he just-

This is so-

He’s so stupid, thinking he could just pick it up again like it hasn’t been a decade or close, like he’s still whatever stupid shit lived in his body before he-

signed up for this-

followed a fucking hot guy outside in the dark and got thrown into a van and made into Kauri. 

“Well, my... my professor for, for, for, for Playwriting says... says writing is a muscle. You, you have to exercise. And you can’t do the, um, the, the, the-the heavy weights until you start with, with small ones.”

Kauri snorts, derisive, but it’s not because Chris is wrong - of course he’s not wrong. Part of Kauri knows it, too, that he used to write all the time, around the pounding inside his skull he knows that he used to scribble lines on napkins and paper towels and the margins of his study books, bringing together the poem itself only later, usually alone or with a boyfriend on the other side of the room. He used to be able to do this.

He used to do this all the time. 

“I wish Owen had wanted someone who could write a fucking poem,” Kauri says, voice breaking on the tears that threaten. “Maybe then I’d still be able to.” He pushes himself to his feet and stomps over to scoop up the notebook almost violently. “Why are you taking Playwriting, anyway? I thought you wanted to do set design.”

“I, I do.” Chris shrugs, eyes on Kauri, watching him walk back towards the doorway that leads to a hall and then to the kitchen. “But I thought-... I, I, I figured-... maybe if I learn how to, to write a play, it would help... visualize. For, for, for set-building. You, um. You know?”

Kauri exhales, slowly, and then nods. “Yeah. I get it. That’s a good plan - I mean, not that I would know, I’m a college fucking dropout, right?” He laughs, bitterness in every word, in every sound.

“No,” Chris replies, simply. “You, you were... abducted. We were, um. We, we, we were stolen. Your words were, um, were stolen, too. That’s what Dr. Berger-”

“Fuck Dr. Berger,” Kauri snaps, and leaves the room before Chris can make any more sense and possibly break apart Kauri’s determined self-loathing while he still wants to soak in it. 

Hating himself for what he can’t do - or what he’s been told he can’t do - is so much easier than trying to do it anyway.

Everything was easier than trying to get better.

So why is he still trying?

Notebook clenched in white-knuckled hands, Kauri climbs the stairs like a man moving to the gallows, one by one, his thoughts a swirling morass of self-hatred, and then he moves into the bedroom he shares with Jake here and stares at the rumpled covers on the bed.

He sleeps here every single night, wakes up to the same face pressed red on one side from the pillow, hears the same deep voice rumbling good morning, feels the same arm slide over his waist, the same scratchy stubble rubbing his jaw when he’s kissed. 

I have generally found, in my work, the fucking therapist’s voice echoes inside him, that when you begin to do the work to rebuild, you will find yourself dedicated over time to reconstructing not just a room, Kauri, but the entire city that was once leveled. Does that make sense?

He’d told her it didn’t.

Kauri spent years dodging therapy whenever Nat didn’t talk him into it, and he hates going. He hates having to spill all the darkness inside him to someone who never stops being so goddamn calm.

But the first time she’d said, have you ever heard about the effect that solitary confinement has on the human mind? He had told her he didn’t know, but he’d started crying, too, and hadn’t been able to explain why. 

Part of you knows, Dr. Berger had said gently. Part of you always knew.

He had never really wanted to know the person who had inhabited this skin, or try to be him again. But standing here looking at the evidence of the life he is slowly building - his clothes in a crumpled heap on the floor by the bed, his toothbrush in the little cup in the bathroom, a picture of he and Jake in a frame by the bed now, the very small silver ring he wears sometimes even though they’re not and they probably won’t but it kind of feels good to wear it sometimes... 

He wonders if Liam Harker wanted a life like this one.

---

“It’s really dumb,” Kauri mutters, pulling the pillow over his face, burning red with embarrassment. “I didn’t even really mean for you to see it-”

“It’s not dumb,” Jake says, gently. Kauri feels the dip in the mattress as he sits down, feels the warmth of his hand resting on Kauri’s thigh through the blanket. “I’m sorry I read it. I didn’t know what I was looking at. If it was supposed to be a secret-”

“No. I didn’t. I forgot I left it out on the dresser. It’s not your fault. It’s so fucking stupid. I don’t know why I even-”

“Kauri.” Jake’s voice sharpens, a little. “Stop. Stop calling yourself stupid. You’re not, and you never were, and you don’t have to repeat what that asshole told you about yourself anymore, remember?”

Kauri swallows, hard, a lump in his throat he can’t quite breathe around. “When does it stop being his voice,” He asks, muffled, “and start being my own?”

“When you let it,” Jake says, rubbing his leg soothingly. “Just like my dad’s voice. You’re not stupid. You’re one of the smartest people I’ve ever met in my life. I’m sorry I read it, but that’s because it wasn’t mine to read, not because it was dumb, or bad. It wasn’t.”

Kauri hesitates, then pulls the pillow to the side, looking at the sincere affection in Jake’s face, his slight smile. “Yeah? You’re not just-”

“Saying that? No, I’m not. I mean, I’m not, like, a poetry person-”

“It’s not even a real villanelle, anyway.”

“I have no idea what that means. I just... I thought it was pretty good, actually. When I realized-...  I put it down when I realized you were writing about-... you know. Yourself.”

“Liam,” Kauri says, hoarse, barely able to pronounce the name. “I wrote-”

“Yeah.” Jake takes his hand, pulls it to his lips, presses a kiss to Kauri’s knuckles. “I know. It’s really good, Kaur. You should keep writing. I promise I won’t look at any stray papers I find anymore, yeah?”

Kauri takes a breath. He feels almost dizzy, in a way that is both terrible and wonderful. The way you open yourself to the people you love is a horrible, amazing risk. The way you spill the darkest parts of yourself, not things you’ve done wrong but the things you are afraid of allowing back into the light, in case it washes them all away again.

But the light he lives in now isn’t cold, and it isn’t taking him away from himself. The light he lives in now is sunlight.

“What?” Jake’s eyebrows raise slightly. “What’s that face for?”

“Jake. What if-... what if I ask you to? Read them?”

Jake’s lips press together, and he nods, smiling slightly, closing his eyes and leaning his forehead against Kauri’s hand. He’s always warm, Jake, even on the coldest days. He’s always warm. “I’d be-... be fucking honored, or something that sounds less bullshit than that, but I mean it. I’d be... I love you, Kauri. Seeing inside your head is what I want to do for-... for forever.”

“Maybe I’ll ask then,” Kauri says, and pulls Jake’s hand and then Jake himself, the taller, larger man settling on top of him, holding himself up on his elbows, careful not to rest all his weight. “I love you, too, you know.”

“Yeah.” Jake kisses the tip of his nose. “It’s pretty fucking great.”

Kauri’s eyes glimmer, but he closes them so Jake can’t see, and kisses his forehead. “It’s nice to think that I’m lucky and mean it.”

“I think you should read your poem to Dr. Berger,” Jake says, and when Kauri groans, he pulls back. “I mean it. She should know.”

Kauri wants to argue, but he looks into Jake’s eyes, and sighs, and says he’ll think about it.

---

AN APOLOGY

I am built from the hollow air left after your heart stopped beating

Your hands still gripped tight to the life they were ending

I know you thought of home but I don’t know where your home is

The sound of my voice is a green valley that only sends back screaming

Covered in smoke and dust that I told myself smelled like cologne

Pathways that remember your laughter silent in the years that followed

Have I done enough to build a life you would have enjoyed living?

I am built from the hollow air left over when your heart stopped beating

The heat of their hands as inevitable as a river tore down every foundation

Their cruelty buried you so deeply that only I remain

I don’t deserve the love that should have been yours to receive

The sound of my voice is a valley echoing back your screaming

I owe you an apology for walking around inside you

Crumbling ruins with my touch and calling it preservation

I’m sorry for every blade of grass growing through our bones

Am I nothing but hollow air from when your heart stopped beating?

-

Wildflowers grow inside me from soil windswept over ash

Is that life worth everything not quite dead so deep below?

Is Kauri Grant good enough to make up for Liam Harker’s loss?

In the valley of my body, does anyone but me still hear you screaming?

I owe you an apology and have to hope the life I live provides it

I wish I could ask for forgiveness from the shape of you  

We’re both ghosts, in the end, mosaic pieces shattered in shadows

I’m sorry that I’m all that’s left.

I built myself from hollow air in the shape of a heart still beating

The sound of my voice will always carry the echo of yours screaming

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